by Nancy Naigle
“You weren’t the sheriff’s son. I caught hell for that from the old man.” Scott whistled. “Now that I’m the one who has to resecure the land every time someone trespasses on it, it’s not nearly as cool. Did I just say that? We’re getting old, Buckham.”
Connor gloried briefly in the shared memory. “We sure had that down to a science back then. How about I go take a look and put the chain back up? That is, if they didn’t completely cut it like they did that one time. It’s my trustee, anyway. We’ve got the funds set aside. Maybe it’s time we put up a pole gate rather than just a chain and save everyone a bunch of hassle.”
“Yeah, Connor, that would be great if you could do that. Big help, in fact.”
“Consider it done,” Connor said.
Mac handed Scott the coffee cup.
“Thanks for the coffee, Mac.” Scott tugged on his hat. “I’ll catch y’all later.”
“Hope you don’t catch me with that radar gun,” Mac teased.
“Just doing my part to keep this town’s books in the black,” Scott said over his shoulder.
“Well, I guess I better get my day started, too,” Connor said.
Mac wiped his hands on his apron. “Me, too. I’ve got to finish up Garrett and Jill’s wedding cake.”
“I hear Jill put in a tall order.” He regretted the pun as soon as it left his lips, but Mac didn’t seem to notice.
“Yep. Took me nearly all day to match the flowers to her color swatches.”
Connor could picture that soft-coral color in his mind with no problem.
“That wedding cake might be my best creation yet. The beaded design will match Jill’s dress, and it’s taken some doing, but I think she’s going to love it.”
The woman in the chair piped in. “All your creations are fabulous, but I think the cake you’re designing for the grand opening of the artisan center is going to be my favorite.” The woman smiled wide. “Hi there. Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear.”
“No problem. I think we’re all fans of Mac’s work around here. Do I know you?”
Mac stepped closer to the woman. “Y’all haven’t met? Sure you have. Anita’s from up the road in Hale’s Vineyard.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not always good with names.”
“I’m friends with Katherine. She was in my yoga class.” The dark-haired woman smiled. “Nice to meet you again, Connor.”
Anita looked like the yoga type. Graceful and at peace with herself. At first glance, he’d thought she was in her early thirties, but now, closer, the lines that accented her smile disclosed a few more years on her.
“I didn’t realize Katherine had made any friends while she was in town. She’s a sweet gal, but Adams Grove plucked the happy right out of her.” Just one more example of relationships destined to go nowhere from the start.
Anita had been talking, but he’d missed most of what she’d said. “I was so sad when she went back to Chicago,” Anita said. “I’m trying to get Mac to do another one of those competitions. Katherine was telling me about one up in Chicago. I should call her.” Anita put the fork down from her left hand and pulled a napkin in front of her. “Mac, honey, let me use your pen.”
He pulled the pen from his coat pocket and handed it to her.
Anita jotted down her phone number. “When you talk to her again, tell her I have a new cell phone number. It’s been too long since she and I have talked.”
Connor took the napkin, and Anita kept right on talking. “Anyway, she was here with me the first time Mac ever baked his famous vanilla-almond layered cupcakes. Miniature wedding cakes—absolutely to die for. I swear, if they won’t make two people fall in love, nothing will.”
Mac was enjoying the ego massage Anita was giving, no doubt about that. “Well, both almond and vanilla are known to increase passion and lust in the ladies. The creamy marzipan filling is the magic.” Mac winked at Connor. “I’m no magician, but I always keep a few on hand, if ya know what I mean.”
I think I do. “And they say a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Sounds like you’re on to something here that’ll work on the ladies, Mac. Toss a couple those into a box for me, too.” Maybe those magical little cupcakes will cure what’s ailing my mood today.
Chapter Three
As Connor walked up the block and got closer to his office, he resisted the temptation to spin the stacked bakery boxes on his finger like a basketball. He’d been able to do that back in the day, but there was surely no good sense in potentially wasting Mac’s famous bear claws, even if the five-second rule applied. That sixteen-year-old boy inside of him still often tried to take over. Even now, seeing the old bank building, he got the urge to press his nose to the window and daydream of the olden days—bank robberies or a withdrawal from the big vault to keep a family indiscretion secret. The abandoned building had always evoked a strange magnetism to him. Maybe it was because of the stories his granddaddy had told him from back when he was the president of that bank.
Buying that old bank building was definitely one of Connor’s proudest achievements to date. Once a grimy abandoned piece of history, the building still had good bones, and he’d been able to restore its place as one of the gems of Main Street’s history.
Connor stepped between the solid columns that flanked the extra-tall doors and walked inside the office he now shared with Carolanne.
Across the long solid-wood counter that used to be the teller space, Carolanne stood with her back to him, filing.
He watched quietly for just a moment as the sunlight from the front window cast a gold-and-auburn shimmer through the tight braid in her hair—a contrast to the darker brown it had looked hanging down her back this morning.
“Got time for a snack break?” He raised the bakery box for her to see.
Her eyes seemed to survey his running gear, followed by one of those looks, the kind mothers usually dole out. “Are you not working today?”
He plopped the box down. “You need to ease up. You’re not in New York City anymore, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“How could I forget with you reminding me daily?”
He liked the familiar sparring with her. “Maybe these will sweeten your disposition.” He pushed the box across the counter. “I had a few important things to take care of this morning, like picking these up from Mac’s.”
She walked closer, then paused. “You are so bad. Mac’s bear claws? I can smell them from here.” She took two quick steps to his side and lifted the top of the box. “What’s the occasion?”
“It’s not every day a guy meets Cinderella.” He waved one of the pastries under her nose. “Pretend this is your glass slipper.”
“Too many of these and it won’t fit!” She eyed the pastry. “If this is what they’re arming Prince Charming with these days, it’s not fair…but I like it. Good thing I’m not in the market for a man or I’d be a goner.”
“You could use a little more meat on those bones of yours.”
“Lucky me.” She leaned forward and took a bite of the pastry, and then took it from his hands. “Mmm, that’s good. Thanks. What’s in the other box?”
“Something for later.” Why did I even buy those cupcakes? One horny morning and I’m suddenly falling for sappy old wives’ tales to get laid? Somehow, “Hey, baby, want a cupcake?” sounded a little perverted.
“They’re still warm.” Carolanne wiped the sticky sugar from her fingers.
Connor took the other bear claw from the box, but hesitated before taking a bite. “Question for you. Have you met a brunette named Anita from Hale’s Vineyard? She was in the bakery this morning.”
“If it’s the same one I’m thinking of, she teaches a mean hot yoga class. I heard she’s going to be teaching here in town once they finish the renovation on the storefront down on the first block.”
“That’s one of Mac’s buildings, isn’t it?”
“You’d know better than me. I’d had no idea he owned half the buildings on Main Stre
et until you told me.”
“Has to be the same lady. I think she and Mac are a couple. They seemed pretty chummy, but I’m surprised no one’s been talking about it.”
“I heard she was a widow. Good for Mac. She seems really sweet.”
He bit into the bear claw. “I ran into Scott down at the bakery, too. Someone pulled the chain down at the Dixon farm again. I told him I’d go secure it and look into upgrading the entrance with a pole gate.”
“The way that property is all grown up, I’m surprised anyone can even find it anymore.”
He walked over to one of the locked filing cabinets and got the keys to the property gate. “Guess I’ll go get that knocked out.” Connor headed for the door. “I’ll see you later,” he said as he turned to go upstairs to change out of his running clothes.
Dressed for the day, he took the back stairs down to the alley. Teddy Hardy was carrying a box of clippings from the florist out to the dumpster.
Connor waved to Teddy, then opened the door to the storage shed behind the building. He grabbed a small toolbox, put it in the trunk of his car, then pulled his blue Mercedes onto Main Street.
He drove past the airport and Malloy’s Construction, then pulled into the emergency lane to slow down for his turn. It was a little early in the year for trespassers on this land. Must have been the hot days we’ve had. Usually, it was a bigger summer problem, with kids wanting to hang out at the spring-fed pond. It was always a good way to cool off.
Connor pulled his car right up to where the chain had once blocked the entrance to Old Pond Road. The grass held the indentation showing someone had recently driven down the path, but the only thing back there was the abandoned farmstead and acres and acres of overgrown cropland and woods that led down to the huge pond. Too bad the trust dictated that the land remain inactive and the entry barricaded. This would be a prime piece of real estate if the remaining family would sell, not that anyone local would ever buy it. The old-timers in town still whispered about the drowning that had happened here, even though it was so long ago.
Thick gravel crunched beneath Connor’s expensive leather loafers as he approached the old wooden post. Someone had pried out the staple that held the locked end of the cable. He went back to the car and got his hammer to pound the staple back into place. With a few swings, the cable was back in place. Just like new. He quickly took a measurement to see what size pole gate they’d need.
He’d have to come back when he was more suitably dressed to do a once-over around the house. A review of the property, fencing, and land was due anyway. He put the tools back in the trunk, then headed back to his office in town.
Connor had just returned to the office when the bells clanked against the front door behind him again, and Mac walked in.
“If you’re here surveying how we liked your bear claws, they were too good to resist,” Carolanne said. “You’re still the number one baker in this town.”
“I was going to say I’m the only baker, but I guess now that Derek is here helping me out, that’s not true, so I’ll take that as a compliment.” Mac’s face turned a little pink against the white of his uniform. “I’m actually here to discuss some business with Connor.” He looked apologetic. “Is this a bad time? Anita said she could watch the store for a little while.”
“Not at all.” Connor motioned for Mac to follow him down the narrow hall to his office. “Come on back.”
Mac paused at the door. “Do you mind if I close this?”
Carolanne went back to her filing. When she’d first partnered with Connor, she’d tried to talk him into hiring someone to do this kind of work. He’d won the first round, and she had to admit that he’d been right. She had plenty of time to do it herself, plus she’d come to rather enjoy the smaller tasks that administrative help would’ve covered for them.
Sometimes it was still a challenge to feel like she’d put in a full day at the office with the slower pace of the small-town practice compared to New York—not that she missed that rat race.
She went back into her office to review the real estate closing she was handling in the afternoon. Several of the older farms in the county were being split up and sold. Too bad the younger generations were not carrying on the agriculture that had carried this town for so many years. It was sad to see so much of that land get broken up. As one generation died, the next was making decisions that would change this town, but on the flip side, it was nice to see the town growing enough to stay alive in the tough economic times. Almost every shop on Main Street stayed busy, and the few empty buildings were in the process of being revitalized. That was a good sign for Adams Grove.
Mac and Connor walked by, still talking all the way to the door.
When Connor closed the door behind Mac, he pulled his hands up on his hips and stood there shaking his head.
“What’s the matter?” Carolanne called from her office. “You OK?”
Connor looked her way, then walked toward her office with a serious look of concern on his face.
I hope nothing is wrong with Mac. “I heard the door close. Is everything OK? I mean, he’s not sick, is he?”
“No. No. Nothing like that.” He laughed. “I jumped to the same conclusion, though.” Connor sat down in the chair across from her desk. “He was talking about how things may have been different with Derek if he hadn’t grown up in New York with his ex. Water under the bridge. He wants to change his will. Again.”
“Thank goodness he’s OK. He can change his will a hundred times if he wants to pay for your time. Why would you care?”
“I shouldn’t worry. He’s a smart man, certainly capable of making his own decisions.” His set face and clamped mouth told more than he was saying.
“Then why do you have that flustered look?”
Connor looked behind him, then spoke in hushed voice. “Remember I mentioned Anita this morning?”
“The lady at the bakery, yeah.”
“Well, Mac wants me to rewrite his will so everything goes to her. He’s going to let her administer stuff to Derek instead of it going directly to him.”
“So? People do that all the time. I guess you were right about them being an item.”
“Yeah. Only, this change doesn’t sit well with me. They couldn’t have been together all that long, or else everyone would’ve already known. It would be different if they were married. I asked him if he had someone in his family he could ask instead.”
“Not your place to make those decisions for him. You know that. If that relationship falls apart, he’ll come back and change it again.”
“Maybe I’ll just let it sit for a week or two, give him a chance to think about it. I told him we could take care of a trust for him. Maybe he’ll come to his senses.” He pulled his ankle up to cross his knee. “Be different if they were engaged or something.”
“You don’t have to be married to someone to count on them, Connor.”
“Well, it doesn’t hurt.”
She closed her file and leaned forward. “Since when did you get so opinionated?”
He pressed his fingers together. “I trust my gut, and I have a bad feeling about Mac’s decision.”
Trying to lighten the mood, she teased, “What, are you going to tell me you’re psychic now? You’re not going to whip out a crystal ball, are you? There’s not a crop circle on the top of this building I don’t know about, is there?”
Her reaction seemed to amuse him. “Oh, hell no.”
She sat back in her chair and folded her arms. “Then you need to let it go. Our job is to advise and execute.”
Connor got up. “If I stall, I bet he’ll come to his senses.”
“Helping them make good decisions is one thing, but stalling a request based on your own moral code….that’s a whole other issue. And a problem when what you’re pushing them toward actually benefits the practice.”
“You know I’m not steering him to let us handle the trust to get his money.”
“Just say
ing it’s a fine line.”
“I don’t see the big deal. If he thinks he can trust this lady with his whole estate, then he’ll still feel that way in a couple weeks. No harm, no foul. Or he ought to marry her and make it really official, and I’d shut up about it.”
“Not everyone wants to get married.”
“What do you have against marriage?”
“I just don’t agree that marriage is the only way for two people to form a good partnership.”
“It is telling, though. Seriously, if you trust someone enough to carry out your last dying wishes, there’s more to it than friendship, so why not seal the deal?”
“If Garrett and Jill weren’t getting married, would you have felt the same way about the changes we just made to Garrett’s estate?”
Connor nodded. “Yeah. Absolutely.”
“Well, that’s stupid.”
Connor jerked his head up, locking his line of sight on Carolanne. “Stupid?”
“Yeah. It’s shortsighted and silly. Marriage is a piece of paper, and it does not mean that someone won’t hurt or backstab you just as easily as if they were just in love.”
He sat back down. “Are you seriously telling me that you still never want to be married?”
“This isn’t about me.”
“I’m asking.”
“Why do you care? You have to agree that it’s an odd tradition, especially for women. We give up the better part of ourselves, even our names, to melt into someone else’s life.”
“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds like hell, but that’s not what marriage is. It’s not giving up anything. It’s sharing.” He studied her for a moment. “I know you’ve said you have no interest in marriage, but people say that kind of thing all the time. I never thought you really meant it.”
“I don’t joke about that stuff.”
“Fine.” Connor rolled his eyes. “You being an old maid will work to my favor. I won’t have to worry about you taking off time for a big wedding and honeymoon or maternity leave. That’s fine by me.”