Home to Sparrow Lake (Harlequin Heartwarming)

by Lynn Patrick

  Gloria winked at Alex. “Kristen does make a nice addition to Sparrow Lake, don’t you think, Chief Novak?”

  “She sure does,” he agreed with a big grin.

  Though she was starting to get uncomfortable, Kristen forced a smile.

  Gloria went on, “She’s already made her mark on Sew Fine. Very impressive.”

  “I agree.”

  Kristen thought Alex’s expression was a little too proprietary as he reached across and patted her arm.

  “I need another drink.” He nodded toward the coolers and buckets of ice. “Can I get you ladies something?”

  Gloria said, “I’ll take an iced tea.”

  “Kristen?”

  “I’ll have a diet soda. Thanks.”

  As soon as Alex left, Gloria leaned closer. “Nice catch, Kristen. The ladies have been eyeing that hunk for quite some time.”

  Growing seriously uncomfortable now, Kristen stirred in her seat. “I wouldn’t say I’ve ‘caught’ him.” And she didn’t want to talk about it, either.

  “Well, I’ve noticed the two of you hanging out around town together.”

  Kristen admitted drily, “I’ve had some run-ins with the law.”

  “Whatever it takes, girl.”

  It certainly wasn’t as if Kristen had gotten arrested on purpose. About to say so, she stopped when a couple of older women approached the table. They seemed mildly familiar but she couldn’t recall their names. However, they both knew Gloria and greeted her warmly. Obviously aware Kristen might need her memory nudged, Gloria made introductions all around.

  “Welcome back to Sparrow Lake, Kristen,” Mrs. Roberts said. “I love to see younger people returning to their roots.”

  “Well, I’m here for the summer anyway,” Kristen told her. “Did I meet you one time in the past? Did you know my mom?”

  “Sure did. We both worked at Unique Food Market with her,” the other woman said. “I hear you’re now running Sew Fine.”

  “And doing a great job of it, too,” Gloria said.

  “Actually, my sister, Heather, is the manager. She deserves most of the credit for the store’s success.”

  “Well, of course we want everyone to have credit.” But Mrs. Roberts gave her an odd look.

  “Kristen is just being modest,” Gloria said. “She’s making improvements that will grow the business.”

  Kristen’s neck warmed with her discomfort. She didn’t know why, but suddenly everything seemed to be getting on her nerves. Her aunt had pushed her at Alex. Her sister had teased her about him, and Gloria had indicated that people already pegged her and Alex as an item. And now Gloria and Mrs. Roberts were acting as if they expected Kristen to stay in Sparrow Lake to run Sew Fine.

  She’d only been here two weeks, as Alex had reminded her.

  Suddenly things were moving way too fast for her.

  It was as though everyone thought she was here to stay. In some ways, even she seemed to think so. It had taken her three whole days after getting her friend’s email before she’d managed to send out a résumé.

  Kristen gazed around the courtyard and thought it looked like a perfect scene from a movie about a happy small town: colorful, friendly, laid-back. Everyone seemed to know everyone else’s business.

  They all seemed to know what was best for her, pressuring her to make decisions she wasn’t ready to make.

  As if her doubts about returning to her childhood home suddenly manifested, she caught sight of a dark figure standing in the grill area. She stared, and Brian, dressed all in black, glared back for a moment before turning and sliding into the shady area behind the store. Andy Eccles, a paper plate loaded with food, followed. Neither young man bothered to return her wave. Maybe things had happened too fast for Brian, as well.

  “Something the matter?” Alex was back with the drinks.

  “Uh, no.” She straightened and smiled. She was being ridiculous, trying to find something wrong with a day that was absolutely right, something wrong in people who seemed nothing if not kind and encouraging. “Did you see Aunt Margaret? She said she would join us.”

  “She and John went inside. I think he’s showing her something.”

  “His etchings?” she joked.

  “I don’t know if he has etchings, but I think he has art of some sort.” Alex obviously hadn’t heard the funny old story about a man who promised to show a woman his etchings just so he could get her alone.

  “I’m sure they have plenty to talk about, even without art. They’re both interesting,” he pointed out.

  “Well, Aunt Margaret is plenty interesting. I don’t know John all that well.”

  “He’s a good guy.”

  “I’m sure he is.”

  He gazed at her closely. “I assure you, his intentions are honorable.”

  “Aunt Margaret can make her own decisions about what she wants to do and who she wants to do it with.”

  Again, he asked, “Is there anything wrong? You seem a little tense.”

  “It’s just that we can’t force things to happen for other people. We need to give people space.”

  “Well, sure…” Alex leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. To her relief, he changed the subject. “When I went to get the drinks, I saw them whipping up some homemade ice cream for dessert. It’s made from local cream.”

  Trying to relax, Kristen took a deep breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever had homemade ice cream.”

  “Well, then, it’s time you tried some.” Alex rose and held out his hand. “Come on, let’s go get dessert.”

  Realizing she’d been panicking over nothing worse than good intentions, Kristen hesitated only a second before taking his hand and getting to her feet.

  A soft rock song started up. Someone had brought a portable stereo. Kristen recognized the song, one of her favorites, and let the melody flow through her.

  Relax, already.

  What in the world had gotten her so uptight? No one could force her to do anything, and she didn’t want to spoil the day. She was determined to decompress and not think about jobs or futures or anything. That could all wait.

  She would just enjoy the present.

  *

  MARGARET WAS IMPRESSED with the watercolor John had hanging in his office. “Ed Williams. I know him. He was a visiting artist at the university for a semester.” Her finger near the glass covering the painting, she traced a curving line. “Even though it’s abstract, you get the feeling of movement and sky and water.”

  “That’s what I love,” said John. “Anything with sky and water and sailing gets to me every time.”

  She could see that. He’d decorated his office with a nautical theme. Sea colors. A ship’s rail and wheel. He definitely had a creative side, which appealed to the artist in her.

  He said, “I’d have Turners if I could afford them.”

  “Good taste,” remarked Margaret. “I’ll have to look at the other pieces you’ve collected.” He’d already invited her over to his house for coffee some afternoon, and she was thinking she would take him up on it. “Do you sail?”

  John laughed. “At the moment, I just motor—I have a small bass boat. When I lived in Chicago, we had a twenty-two-foot day sailer.”

  “We?”

  “My late wife and I.” He suddenly looked a little sad.

  Margaret nodded. She knew that sadness well. “You must miss…your sailboat.” She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by getting personal too quickly.

  “Yep, I sold it. I plan to get another one someday, though.”

  And another woman? Margaret wondered. Maybe he hadn’t only called her to make sure Kristen came to the fish fry.

  “Do you know how to sail?” he asked.

  “Oh, I used to know a little about it. It’s been years.”

  “If you got on a boat, it’d probably come back to you.”

  “Maybe. I’m sure not as strong as I used to be, though. The body kind of goes downhill as it gets more m
iles on it.”

  He glanced at her appreciatively. “Maybe you’re stronger than you think. You’ve held up pretty well.”

  They laughed together. Margaret liked John’s compliments, and she also appreciated his sense of humor.

  “Besides, you can get yachts now with all kinds of automatic thingamajigs,” said John.

  “That would definitely help.”

  Was he just making conversation, or was he suggesting they sail together sometime? Margaret wondered. Intriguing thought. She’d always loved a bit of adventure.

  John walked to a window and checked on the party outside. “How are Alex and your niece getting on?”

  “Actually, they were getting along just fine before tonight. They went out to dinner in Lake Geneva earlier this week.”

  “Great. Shall we go see how they’re doing?” He added, “But first I have to check on the food, make sure it’s holding up.”

  “I’ll help.”

  They headed back outside and cut through the crowd to the food tables.

  Margaret had to admit John was the most intriguing man she’d met in a while. He was warm and had a sense of humor. Even better, he had a hidden creative side. Who would have guessed that he collected art? Exactly the kind of man she would like to get to know better.

  *

  AS MUSIC WAFTED through the balmy afternoon air, Alex was happy to see that Kristen seemed more relaxed. She’d definitely been a little on edge today and he hadn’t even arrested her for anything. On the one hand, she hadn’t seemed averse to fixing up her aunt up with John McClintock.

  On the other hand, Alex had gotten the strong sense that Kristen might not be totally comfortable with the way he’d been pursuing her. Okay. So they had only known each other two weeks. And just because he felt they could easily develop something more meaningful didn’t mean that she was in the same place.

  Yet.

  He wasn’t ready to give up on the possibility.

  They watched as a group of young guys moved the food tables to clear a small dance floor. People drifted out into the space with partners or even alone, every age group represented from two-and-a-half to eighty.

  “Are the twins coming today?” Alex asked.

  “I don’t know. Heather said something about dropping by, but it may be later. She has a busy schedule.”

  Alex nodded. “A lot for a single mother.” He nodded toward the dancers. “Want to take a spin?”

  “Sure.”

  They did a kind of modified two-step to the soft rock, Alex’s arm around Kristen’s waist. He wanted to draw her closer but decided he would respect her desire for space on all levels until she learned to completely relax with him. She sure felt good in his arms, though.

  Margaret and John also made use of the dance floor. Over Margaret’s shoulder, John flashed him a thumbs-up.

  Alex merely smiled and was glad that Kristen hadn’t seen the gesture. Maybe having everyone in town take an interest was too much pressure on a new relationship.

  *

  WHEN ALEX DROPPED Kristen and Margaret off at the house later on, Kristen was in a much better mood. Dancing had been fun. She had enjoyed the music and the freedom of moving around the concrete slab of a dance floor. She had to admit she’d enjoyed sliding in and out of Alex’s arms even more.

  Of course, dancing had taken its toll. Her feet hurt. As she took the wedges off and tossed them near the bed in her suite, she heard laughter from a television show coming from Brian’s side of the house. Recalling the somber black figure at the party, Kristen padded down the hallway to see what her brother was doing. The door stood ajar and Brian lay stretched across the bed on his stomach. Kristen took a deep breath and knocked.

  He didn’t turn around or look up. “Yeah?”

  “I want to talk to you. I know you’ve had a lot to deal with—”

  “I don’t have much to say.”

  She didn’t like his belligerent tone or the way he’d cut her off. “You should have something to say. You were late for work every day this week.” She’d been busy on the phone or at the computer when he came in and, later, hadn’t wanted to talk to him when others could hear. Then he’d apparently slept all day Saturday so this was the first chance she’d gotten to have a talk. She said, “We depend on you to process the orders,” hoping he still liked that sort of approach.

  “I won’t be there forever. I’m going to college in the fall.”

  She swallowed her annoyance. “Yes, but you’re supposed to be helping out this summer.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “So are you. Does that include hanging out with cops?”

  So that was what had prompted his sour expression earlier. “I’ve gone out with Alex in my free time.”

  “Yeah, you two are having some big romance. I saw you sucking face with him at the fish fry.”

  They had never kissed at the fish fry, but she ignored the sarcastic remark. “It’s not some big romance,” she said, wondering if it could be. Ignoring the sudden rush of her pulse, she asked, “What were you doing this week, say, on Wednesday night?”

  He swung his feet across the bed and sat up, but his back was still to her. “Is this another interrogation?”

  “Brian, I really am wondering what you’re doing when you’re out…alone or with friends. Some truly strange things are going on in town.”

  “People are strange.” He snickered.

  “It isn’t funny, Brian. Breaking and entering isn’t amusing…and neither is stealing pies. You told me before that you weren’t involved with stealing.”

  Now he stood up to face her, an expression of mock horror on his face. “Someone stole a pie? Wow, big crime!”

  She was beginning to get angry. But she tried again to sound understanding, “We all have changes to deal with.”

  “Changes? So what?”

  “What is the matter with you?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with me. It’s you who’s got your pantyhose in a wad.” He started for the door but stopped short, since he was going to have to go around her. “Why don’t you call your cop boyfriend and talk to him? Ask him about the stolen pie. Maybe he ate it himself when he ran out of doughnuts.”

  “You’re being facetious.”

  “Ooh, big word. Did you learn it in college?”

  “That’s it!” she snapped. “I don’t appreciate your tone, Brian. I’m trying to deal with a bad situation—”

  With one step, he brushed past her. “Deal all you want.”

  “Brian!” She turned to watch him stride down the hall. “I don’t want us to be like this! Don’t you care about your family? We care about you.”

  He didn’t answer. Heading toward the lakeside door, he stopped for one last comment. “Call Mom and talk to her if you want. Talk to her stupid husband, too. I’m sure he’ll have plenty to say about me.”

  “Acting out won’t make things better.”

  He slammed the door on her final words, though it was already past ten o’clock. What could she do? Run after him and tackle him? Upset, Kristen stalked back to her bedroom. For a moment she just stood there, considering whether or not she should indeed call their mother. Her mother would no doubt share concerns with their stepfather, and she worried that getting Mike involved would make things worse.

  Alex would be a better person to talk to. He would understand where a rebellious teenager was coming from. Their conversation in Lake Geneva had struck a good note with her. She glanced at the clock, halfway tempted to call him, even this late. But there was no reason to get someone else involved with family problems, she soon decided, especially not when she was upset.

  Resolving to sleep on it, Kristen only hoped that tonight Brian would not go out and do something worse than stealing pies.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  KRISTEN FOUND HERSELF agreeing to twin-sit again on Monday. Heather had called with another emergency—the regular babysitter had the flu. Planning to redeem herself, Kristen readily agreed. Her sister
had been nice about the FamilyMart fiasco, but she wanted to show Heather she could handle anything that came up. As the oldest in the family, Kristen had always been ultraresponsible, so she wanted to make up for getting so frazzled the other day.

  When Heather opened the cottage door, however, the twins weren’t in sight. “Where are they?” she asked, noting her sister looked tired.

  “Playing in their bedroom,” said Heather. “Having a major sort-out with dolls and horses.”

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  “I was up late. We have an exam tonight.”

  Kristen shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it all.”

  “Come on, you’ve gone to college. You’ve worked. You know how it is.”

  “Yeah, I kind of do. I don’t have two children, though.”

  Heather went on, “You’ve always been busy. You were never home when I called in Chicago. Probably working overtime. I know you’re some kind of incredible workhorse.”

  “You tried to call me? And I wasn’t there?” Apparently, Heather hadn’t wanted to leave messages, and Kristen hadn’t noticed the number coming in to her caller ID.

  “Now don’t start feeling guilty, Kristen. I know you loved your job. And I love studying landscape design and maintenance. I love my kids, too. I’ll get through this.”

  Noticing Heather didn’t say she loved her job managing Sew Fine, Kristen promised, “We’ll get through it.” She didn’t want Heather to think she was totally on her own. “And we all love Addison and Taylor. They’re bright spots for the future of the family. I look forward to spending more time with them.”

  “Let’s see what those ‘bright spots’ are up to.” Heather laughed and motioned Kristen down the hall toward the bedrooms.

  The twins had twin beds, a dresser and a couple of toy chests in their room. At the moment, the rest of the floor space was filled with an army of fashion dolls, mostly naked, some flat on their backs, others stacked in piles, the majority with wild long hair. Horses of various materials and sizes lay here and there among them, hooves in the air. Various pieces of doll clothing were scattered about. Kristen was reminded of a movie scene depicting the end of a battle back in the days when there was cavalry. Addison and Taylor sat in the center of it all, moving people and animals around.