by Mallory Kane
Bellows rolled out from behind the desk again and looked Matt straight in the eye. “If you remember, your contract states that your life is insured for five hundred thousand dollars. If you die while performing your duties, your beneficiaries will receive a lump sum payout, no questions asked. But that payout marks the end of the contract. Do you still think your proposed salary plus benefits is ‘too good to be true’?”
Matt swallowed. Bellows seemed genuinely passionate about his company. Maybe the job was legitimate after all.
“Okay then, I need you to talk to Sheriff Hale and coordinate crowd containment and security during and after the town hall meeting.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, before you leave, please correct your second misleading statement.”
Thinking back, Matt realized what Bellows was talking about. “Yes, sir. I believe Henry Kemp has compartmentalized his separate lives. On the one hand, he’s a loving grandfather. On the other, he’s an avenger, out to right what he feels is a grave injustice. He can’t comprehend that destroying the Lockharts will destroy his own family.”
Bellows’s mouth twitched at the corners. “That’s more like it. I’ll have someone on Henry Kemp during the town hall meeting. You keep an eye out for any other suspicious characters. Remember, your number one priority is keeping Governor Lockhart alive.”
FAITH SCOTT STARED AT the portable phone handset she held. A twinge on the right side of her rounded belly made her jump. She rubbed the spot. “Sorry, Li’l Bit. I’m a little frazzled. I just found out that you and I are going to be really busy for the next few days.”
“Faith? Faith!” It was Glo, shouting from the storeroom downstairs.
Faith walked over to the door leading to the stairs. “What? Are you okay?”
“Was that the telephone? It better not have been Valerio. He’s already late. If he doesn’t walk through that door in the next thirty seconds, he’s not going to be able to walk. I can’t lift these cases of mayonnaise by myself, and I’m not traipsing up and down the stairs eight times when he can lift two cases at once.”
Faith looked at the wooden stairs descending down into the darkness and sighed. Normally, she could easily bring two or three gallons up by herself, but not now—not with a baby on board. “I’ll come halfway down, and you can hand me one jar at a time.”
“Hell, no, you won’t!” Gloria McDonald yelled. “You stay right there.”
Faith heard Glo’s tennis shoes thudding up the stairs. At the same time, the back door opened and closed and Valerio Rodriguez pushed through the swinging door from the kitchen, snagging the apron that hung beside it.
“Ah, mi ave blanca. You are so beautiful today.” It was his usual greeting. “I am here, ready for anything.” He slipped the apron over his head and tied the strings behind his waist.
Gloria McDonald, dressed in a white uniform with a green apron and glistening red lipstick, rose from the dark staircase like a kraken from the depths of the ocean.
“There you are, Valerio. Get your lazy butt down the stairs and bring up two cases of mayonnaise. You should have brought them up yesterday. Faith ran out last night and had to go down there and get a jar.”
“Perdón,” Valerio said to Faith, then turned to Glo. “You need mayonnaise so desperately and yet you came up the stairs empty-handed?” He spread his hands. “Ah, poor Glori-ah. I know you’re terribly old and decrepit, but even those flabby arms could lift one jar.”
“Listen, you big windbag, I can beat you to a pulp with one hand tied behind my back. You just name the place and time. Go ahead, name it.”
“Glo,” Faith said as Valerio let fly a string of probably insulting Spanish. “Valerio—”
“Yeah? Well, right back at you!” Glo snapped.
“Both of you, be quiet!” Faith yelled.
Glo and Valerio turned to stare at Faith, open-mouthed. Faith gathered her long, wavy hair with both hands and lifted it off her neck. It seemed to ease the ache between her shoulder blades.
“I’m sorry,” she said, letting her hair fall. “But I need to tell you something.”
Glo’s red cheeks cooled down, and the tendons in Valerio’s neck began to recede.
“What is it, honey?” Glo asked, looking Faith up and down. “Your water didn’t break, did it?”
“Here.” Valerio dragged a chair over. “Sit, nueva madre. I’ll get you a glass of water.”
“No! Just stop a minute and listen.” Faith felt the baby stirring restlessly. She rubbed the side of her belly. “You’ll never believe who that was on the phone just now.”
“Who?” Glo and Valerio said in unison.
“The governor’s public relations agent. According to her, the governor wants to hold a town hall meeting here on Saturday.” Saying it out loud made it sound even more impossible than it had through the phone line from Governor Lockhart’s PR officer. She shook her head.
“In Freedom?” Valerio said.
Glo frowned. “Here?” she asked.
Faith lifted her hair again. She was hot and tired and trying her best to tamp down the panic that was pushing its way up her throat. “Here,” she squeaked. “At the café.” She took a deep breath. “I guess I could use some water.”
Valerio rushed around the counter and filled a glass with ice and water and slid it toward her. She picked it up and drank gratefully. The chill liquid soothed her parched throat. “Apparently, when she first decided to run for governor, she announced it here. I don’t remember that. Anyhow, she wants to hold a meeting here Saturday.” Some water spilled out of the glass she held. That’s how badly her hands were shaking.
“That’s right,” Glo said. “It must have been about ten years ago. I guess you were about fifteen and giving your grandmother a hard time. As I recall, it wasn’t that big a deal. We closed for dinner that night and opened the double doors in front so everyone could hear her talk. Someone brought in a microphone and speakers.”
Faith shook her head. “Well, it’s going to be a big deal this time. The café only holds sixty people, and the governor’s PR person said they were going to have TV and news crews here and they’d wire the place for sound, with loudspeakers outside so everyone can hear.”
She picked up the water glass again, and the ice cubes tinkled noisily. “I don’t know how we’re going to handle it.”
“What else did the person say?”
“She said they were going to take care of everything, but I’m afraid—”
“Well, then let them,” Glo declared. “All you need to do is stay out of their way.”
“But it’s my café. I should provide water or coffee—?”
“No, you shouldn’t,” Glo insisted. “If the governor thinks she can waltz in here and disrupt everything without so much as a by-your-leave, then she’s responsible for making things go smoothly.”
“Glori-ah?” Valerio said. “What about the threats on the governor’s life?”
Glo sent Valerio an impatient look. “Rumors. That’s all. Everybody who ever ran for office in this state has had at least one threat against them. Hell, everybody in the state’s probably got somebody who’d rather they weren’t around.”
The panic Faith had managed to quell was trying to rise again. “Threats? I know there was that man who was stalking Bailey, but—?”
“I’ve heard people saying that Lila Lockhart is going to run for president.”
“President?” Faith swallowed hard. “Oh, my God. She’s going to announce it here?”
Glo looked at Valerio, then both of them looked at Faith. She knew they were thinking the same thing she was. If there was even a rumor that Governor Lockhart might announce a presidential bid, the town of Freedom and the Talk of the Town Café would be trampled in the stampede of media, supporters, dissenters and rubberneckers.
A sharp pain struck Faith in her right side. She winced and rubbed at it. But this time rubbing didn’t make it go away. At the same time, she noticed that her head
was throbbing. The pain was concentrated in her left temple.
“Faith?” Glo said. “Everything okay?”
She nodded and moved to stand, but the pain stabbed her again. “Li’l Bit is rowdy today. Probably because Mommy is close to panicking about this town hall meeting.”
“Come on. Let’s get you upstairs. You need to take it easy the rest of the day.”
“No. I have to make pies, and we’ve got a dozen chickens to roast for the special tonight.”
“I can roast chickens with one hand and make pies with the other,” Valerio declared. “Just watch me.”
“And I’ll call Molly to come in,” Glo added. “She’ll be glad for the overtime, and I can take care of the side dishes and the register.”
Faith stood carefully, trying to pretend that the pain had gone away. “I’ll just rest for a few minutes. I’ll be back downstairs in an hour.”
By the time she got to the top of the stairs, she was nearly bent double with cramps. “Don’t do this to me, Li’l Bit. It’s only been thirty-two weeks. I need you to stay put for another few weeks. The doctor said you need to grow some more before you’re ready to come out.”
She lay down on her bed and turned onto her side, massaging the area of her tummy that hurt so badly. She closed her eyes and wished her grandmother was here to comfort her. Gram’s warm hand on her forehead and her lips against her cheek could cure any ailment.
A tear slipped from her eye and slid across the bridge of her nose. “I wish you could have known my Gram, Li’l Bit. She’d have loved you so much.” Faith held her breath, trying to stop the sobs that wanted to erupt from her throat.
“Stay healthy, Li’l Bit. I need you to be big and strong. You’re all the family I’ve got left.”
Chapter Three
Despite her best intentions of grabbing just a catnap, Faith slept for a couple of hours and didn’t make it downstairs until after seven. By that time, dinner was in full swing. Almost everyone was eating the special. Valerio’s tequila-lime roast chicken was a café favorite.
Glo winked at Faith as she carried trays laden with plates of chicken, baskets of rolls and drinks. Faith looked at the pass through window and saw three more plates waiting to be delivered to their tables.
“Two to table seven,” Glo called out, “and one to the counter.”
Faith glanced at the customer sitting at the counter and saw that it was Matt Soarez. His dark eyes met her gaze and he gave a brief nod.
She didn’t like the way she felt when he looked at her. Her heart fluttered like a teenaged girl’s, while at the same time a frisson of fear slid through her. She recognized both sensations, but the fear quickly killed the flutter, because it made her think of Rory Stockett, her baby’s father.
Deliberately ignoring Matt’s nod of greeting, she grabbed the plate of chicken and set it in front of him, then topped off his iced tea. By that time, Glo was back and taking the other two plates.
“Glo, I’ve got those,” Faith said, but Glo shook her head.
“You cut the pies. I’ve already got two orders for apple with caramel pecan ice cream.”
The next hour was busy, but by eight-thirty, all the diners had cleared out except Matt. As soon as the dishes where piled into the dishwasher and the leftovers were thrown out, Faith sent Glo and Valerio home.
“Molly’s coming in early tomorrow,” she told them, “and I feel great. You two need to get some rest. Neither one of you has had a day off in over a week.”
“I don’t need a day off,” Glo protested.
Valerio said, “I’m happy to get overtime.”
Faith held up her hand. “I need both of you to be in top form when I go to the hospital. So please, don’t overdo it now.”
Glo and Valerio looked at each other, then back at Faith, but before they could open their mouths, she said, “End of discussion. By the way Glo, could you pick up a Help Wanted sign tomorrow? Molly’s going back to school in a couple of weeks, and I need to hire someone to take her place.”
“Sure thing, hon,” Glo said.
When Glo and Valerio finally left, Faith locked the back door behind them and made herself a cup of hot tea. As the tea was steeping, she leaned against the stainless steel table and rubbed the right side of her belly, which still ached. Her eyes pricked with tears. This time of night, after the café was closed and everything was quiet, was the loneliest time of her day. It’s when she missed Gram the most.
“Oh, Gram,” she murmured. “I let you down. You were right. Men are like butterflies.”
She smiled although her eyes were filled with tears as Gram’s words came back to her.
Most men are like butterflies, Faith honey. They’re pretty and you want to follow them, but sooner or later they’ll end up leading you into… at that moment Gram would pause and then say delicately, manure.
Faith would always ask about her grandpa. But Grandpa was different. Right, Gram?
Gram would get a faraway look in her eye. Your grandpa was one in a million, Faith. One in a million. I hope you can find one, but you may have to let a lot of butterflies go by.
“Don’t worry, Gram,” Faith murmured as she stroked the side of her tummy. “No more butterflies. Once I get the loan paid off, Li’l Bit and I are going to be just fine by ourselves.”
She blinked the tears away and picked up her teacup. Enough feeling sorry for herself. She still needed to lock the front door and close out the cash register.
She heard the slight squeak of the swinging door, and a low masculine voice said, “Busy night.”
Faith started and almost spilled her cup. It was Matt. She’d forgotten he was still here. She didn’t look at him, afraid the traces of tears were visible on her face.
“Busy is a good thing,” she said. “The busier we are, the sooner I can pay off the loan.”
“Loan?”
Faith bit her tongue. Damn it. That had slipped out because it was on her mind.
She’d been so careful not to let anyone in town know that she’d been stupid enough to believe Rory Stockett’s lies. She slid past him and through the door out into the dining area.
Matt followed behind.
“I got the impression your grandmother left you this place free and clear.”
Faith almost laughed. She looked at him, steeling herself against the fluttering of her heart and the sinking feeling in her stomach. “Nothing’s free, Mr. Soarez.”
Matt smiled, but his eyes narrowed assessingly. “I thought you were going to call me Matt.”
“Matt,” she said reluctantly, wishing she hadn’t sat and talked with him the night before. She didn’t know anything about him, but she knew all about his type. He was a butterfly if ever she’d seen one.
He was in town temporarily, working a construction job. He was handsome and charming, and when he looked at her with those dark, soulful eyes, he made her feel like the most beautiful, desirable girl in the world—just like Rory had. And just like Rory, he’d be gone within a few weeks.
But at least this charming drifter wouldn’t stomp on her heart as he walked away because he wouldn’t get near it.
“Was there something else you wanted? Because I need to close up,” she said pointedly.
He shook his head. “I just wanted to be sure you’re all right. Glo said you weren’t feeling well.”
Faith took a step backward and rubbed the side of her tummy. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day, and it’s going to be a very long weekend.”
He looked at his watch. “It’s not very late. You want me to make you a fresh cup of tea?”
“Make me—?” At first the words didn’t even make sense. Nobody made tea for her—not since Gram died. “No. I mean—”
She looked at him. He was a lot taller than her but not as tall as Rory or as thin. Matt was lean but solid. His chest and abs were obvious beneath the white T-shirt he wore, and the muscles in his arms were sharply defined. Dark jeans hinted at powerful thighs. The imp
ression he gave was that he’d never start a fight, but he wouldn’t turn away either.
And he wouldn’t lose.
“Hey,” he said, amused. “I can make tea. I can even cook a few things.” His brows lowered. “Speaking of cooking, when did you eat?”
Faith set her cup down. “I had a—I think it was—” She stopped. When had she eaten last?
“Okay, that settles it. I’m fixing you some dinner. Want some of the chicken special? A cheese quesadilla? Some eggs?”
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s late.”
“No, it’s not. It’s a long time until breakfast.”
“It may not be late for you, but I still have to close out the cash register, review the credit card receipts to be sure there are no duplications, clean off the tables and check the salt and pepper shakers and—oh,” she stopped. On the far table, near the door to the basement, was a huge dishpan of dirty dishes. Glo had missed them while she was cleaning up.
“—and wash another load of dishes.”
Matt swiveled on his seat, checking out the loaded pan. “I’ll get that for you.” He looked back at her. “Why aren’t your employees here helping you with all this?”
“Because I made them go home. Glo has worked eight days straight without a day off, and Valerio will be here at 4:00 a.m. to start the chicken stock and the dough for the rolls.”
Matt got up off the stool, laid a twenty on the counter and headed to the back table to get the pan full of dishes.
Faith took his twenty and put his change back on the counter, then started sorting through the credit card receipts. “Thanks for helping with the dishes. Put them on the table in the kitchen.”
“I’ll load them in the dishwasher and turn it on,” Matt said, coming around the counter.
“There are clean dishes in the dishwasher. And the mechanism’s tricky. I’ll get it.”
“Faith, I’ve worked in my share of diners and restaurants. Let me do this for you.”