Chapter Twenty
Robins chirped and chattered in the tops of the Bradford pears that bloomed up and down Clayburn’s Main Street. April 6, but already the trees wore a cloak of new yellow-green leaves. Mickey tugged at the hem of her shirt, wishing she’d picked something more comfortable to wear.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Doug said again, maneuvering his pickup into a tight spot in front of Latte-dah. “I just didn’t feel right leaving Kayeleigh with the kids too long.”
“Not at all. This is nice. I’ve always liked the coffee shop.” Well, that part was true. But she did mind a little that they were staying in Clayburn for their date. There was no way she and Doug wouldn’t be the talk of the town after tonight. If they weren’t already.
She put aside any hope of keeping her friendship with Doug a secret from her brothers. They may not live in Clayburn’s city limits, but rumors traveled faster than the pony express around here. And this would be a rumor of the highest caliber.
Doug put the truck in park and climbed out. “Hang tight,” he said through the open window. “I’ll get your door.”
Feeling silly sitting there while he ran around the front of the vehicle, she pulled on the door handle. Nothing happened. Doug jerked on the handle from the outside. Nothing. The door didn’t seem to be locked. She watched through the window as he fished his keys from his pocket and joggled them in the lock until the door finally unlatched. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t just being thoughtful.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “There’s a trick to this door.”
“And to think I was all impressed.” She feigned a pout.
“Don’t worry, if it had stayed stuck, I would have brought you something out to eat.”
She laughed. “That’s real big of you. Thanks.”
He winked. “Wouldn’t want you to starve to death.” He put a hand on the small of her back and followed her inside.
She took a deep breath, savoring the heady aroma of strong espresso and cinnamon and vanilla. Immediately it brought back memories of the first night she’d gotten to know Doug at Jack and Vienne Linder’s wedding. The place looked very different tonight. At a table near the window, a family with teenagers laughed together, oblivious to them. And an elderly couple sat side by side on the sofa in front of the fireplace, sipping coffee and reading hardcover books. Other than that, the place belonged to her and Doug.
She hoped it stayed that way. He’d made it clear this wouldn’t be a late night, so maybe they could escape before their date became fodder for the Courier. She smiled to herself, imagining Doug himself stopping the presses to censor the gossip column.
Doug claimed a table on the other side of the fireplace. “This okay?”
“Sure.” She took the chair he held for her.
“I’ll go order for us. Do you know what you want or do you need to look at a menu?”
“No…I’ll just have the soup and half a sandwich. Whatever the special is.”
Vienne didn’t seem to be working tonight, but the college-age girl behind the counter—Allison, Mickey thought her name was—smiled in her direction and took Doug’s order.
He came back to the table with their drinks and they admired the art displayed on the wall over their table—some of it Jack Linders’s—until the girl brought their food.
“So Kayeleigh’s babysitting tonight, huh?”
“Yeah. First time. I hope I’m not sorry.” He pulled his cell phone off his belt loop and checked the display.
“She’ll do fine. I see her with the kids at the daycare. She’s good with them. We probably ought to pay her for all the help she gives us on the days she’s there after school.” She didn’t mention that Kayeleigh had been sporting an attitude lately. This wasn’t the time or place, and besides, she’d chalked it up to the fact that the girl was on the brink of being a teenager. It was a tough age to be.
“I was hoping we could go to that new Mexican place in Salina.”
“This is fine, Doug. Really. It’s fine…”
The bells on the front door jangled, and he eyed the two couples coming in. A middle-aged couple she didn’t recognize, and Trevor and Meg Ashlock, with their new baby in tow. Trevor raised a hand in greeting. She and Doug returned his wave in unison, but they didn’t come over. For a minute Doug seemed to retreat to a faraway place, and Mickey wondered if there was something going on at work between them.
Doug motioned toward the foursome. “Those are Amy’s parents,” he whispered.
“Oh.” That had to be a little awkward for Meg, though her smile and warmth toward the couple seemed genuine. She cringed at the image that formed of her and Doug having dinner with Harriet Thomas and wondered if he was thinking the same thing.
“Is your soup good?”
“Very.” She took a sip as if to prove it, grateful for the change of subject.
“Save room for dessert. There are some big honkin’ cream puffs in the dairy case calling our names.”
“I don’t dare. I’m still trying to lose the five pounds I gained over the holidays.”
“Oh, come on. Live a little. You can bowl it off Sunday.”
“Okay, okay. You twisted my arm.” As if bowling a few lanes was going to work off a thousand calories.
Outside the wide front windows, the sun sank behind the storefronts. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the cue for Latte-dah to come to life. A group of high school kids drifted in and scooted two tables together for a rowdy pizza party—Vienne’s latest offering. Two more tables filled up with retired couples. The soothing jazz that had been playing over the speakers was quickly drowned out, and she and Doug had to practically shout to hear each other.
Worse, it became obvious that they were being watched with great curiosity. When Clara Berger and her cronies parked at the table beside her and Doug—and a whisper-fest commenced—he touched her hand and cut his eyes to the gossips’ table. “How about we take those cream puffs to go?”
She repressed a grin and nodded. “Good idea.”
“I’ll go get them.”
She nodded toward the restrooms in back. “I’ll be right back. Meet you outside?”
Doug gave her a thumbs-up. It felt good to be in cahoots with him. Even if this wasn’t exactly a covert sting operation.
When she came out of the restroom, she avoided meeting any of the eyes she felt trained on her. Through the window, she could see Doug waiting for her, leaning on his truck. As soon as he saw her, he went around to get her door. Thankfully, it opened on the first try.
He jogged around to the driver’s side and climbed in. He put the key in the ignition, but looking up through the windshield, he let out a snort of laughter. He tapped her arm and nodded back toward the coffee shop. “Don’t look now, but we, um…we seem to be the main attraction.”
Trying to be casual, she followed his line of vision to the front window of Latte-dah. Above the café curtains, no less than six pairs of eyes peeked back at them.
“Oh, good grief!” Mickey dissolved in giggles.
He clucked his tongue and lowered his voice. “I do believe they have us married off, on our honeymoon, and probably prematurely pregnant with our first child.”
“Doug!” She was glad her face was already flushed from laughing. She could hardly believe he’d said that out loud.
“Well? Am I wrong?”
She rolled her eyes. “Sadly, no. It is Clayburn, after all. So how do you propose we deflect those nasty little rumo—”
Before she could spit out the last syllable, he leaned across the bench seat, wrapped his arms around her, and planted a kiss—a long, slow, I-mean-it sort of kiss—squarely on her mouth.
News of his shenanigans would be all over town by the time she got back to work Monday morning. Sooner than that, no doubt. Only nobody would know it had been a joke. How was she ever going to face the rumors?
Chapter Twenty-one
Mickey was so shocked she didn’t know whether to slap him or kiss him back. Given their au
dience, she chose the latter option—happily, she realized. Putting her hand on the back of his neck, she played along with the little show he’d orchestrated.
Finally he pulled away, gave her one last gentle peck, and settled back on his side of the truck. “There,” he said, turning the key and revving the engine. “That’ll give ’em something to chew on.”
“I’ll say,” she muttered. “For a few weeks to come.” Feeling a little breathless, she put her hands in her lap and tucked her chin.
Doug put the truck in reverse, stretched his arm across the back of the seat, and slowly backed onto Main Street.
Mickey sighed. News of his shenanigans would be all over town by the time she got back to work Monday morning. Sooner than that, no doubt. Only nobody would know it had been a joke. How was she ever going to face the rumors?
An involuntary gasp rose in her throat as she imagined the look on her brothers’ faces if they heard about Doug’s mischief. She pushed her breath down before it escaped. She hadn’t said a word to any of her brothers or their wives about where she was spending her Sundays. Even when Rick or Tony or Alex teased her about her “old maid” status, she’d kept her mouth shut about Doug. Not that there was anything to tell.
Doug was quiet on his side of the vehicle. He was probably already regretting his rash actions. But she could not get that kiss out of her mind. Good thing he couldn’t read her mind. She’d done her best not to let her daydreams wander to the possibility of Doug having such feelings toward her, but she couldn’t control what she dreamed about him at night.
Now he’d gone and made one of those dreams come true—and it was all for a laugh.
He turned onto Pickering Street. “Okay if we take our cream puffs to your house? I’d invite you to mine, but I don’t exactly want to split them eight ways.”
“Eight?”
“Harriet might be there. She was going to check on the kids. And she does love a good cream puff.”
Mickey laughed. “Sure. My house is fine. We can sit on the deck.” If he could see right through her—know she was thinking of the last time they’d sat on her deck—he gave no hint.
He stared straight ahead until he slowed in front of her house and parked at the curb. But instead of getting out of the truck, he put the bag of cream puffs on the dashboard, turned in his seat, and reached for her.
There was nobody to show off for now. Nobody he was trying to fool. Except her? Trembling, she let him take her into his arms again, let his lips find hers. She drank in the sweet taste of him. Cream puffs had nothing on this man. She savored a kiss that was beyond anything her dreams were made of.
But what were his intentions? She slowly came to her senses and pushed away from him. “Doug…what is this? I don’t—”
He reached for her tentatively. When she didn’t respond, he put a hand over hers. “Mickey, I think—I think I might be falling in love with you.”
“No, Doug.” She started shaking her head. “No. I don’t think…I don’t think you can know that.” Oh, dear God. I’m not ready for this. Please…help me know what to say.
His eyes challenged her. “Why can’t I know that?”
She shook her head, overwhelmed. “It’s too soon, Doug. You’ve only just lost…Kaye.” She whispered the name. The name of the only woman Doug had eyes for mere weeks ago. No matter how much she wished it were true, he couldn’t possibly love her yet. Love didn’t die that quickly—or grow that quickly, for that matter. Did it? Oh, but how desperately she wanted it to be true. She hadn’t dared to hope until now. Or perhaps she had, but hadn’t fully admitted it to herself. And now he’d gone and ruined everything.
She pulled her hand out from under his. “What was that all about…in front of the coffee shop? Is that your idea of a joke?”
He chewed at the corner of his lip. “I-I saw a chance to—to make my move.” His mouth lurched in a lopsided smile. “I’m a little rusty, Mick. That was—clumsy. I’m sorry. But are you going to sit here and tell me you didn’t feel something?”
She blew out a huff of air. “Of course I felt something, you idiot. That’s not the point.”
“What is the point, then?”
She shook her head. He’d said he loved her. “Doug, I never thought you could be interested in me—that way. It’s so soon…after Kaye. I always thought the pressure was off with you.”
He studied her for a moment, and what she saw in his eyes terrified her.
He reached as if to touch her arm, then drew it back, resting his hand on his knee. His hands fascinated her. The strong hands of a laborer. Yet so gentle when they caressed his children, or when they touched her.
“I meant what I said, Mickey.” His voice was husky, and he reached for her hand, seeming confident this time. “Maybe I’m speaking out of turn, but I’m not going to pretend otherwise.”
“Oh, Doug.” Was it possible that she could feel the same way about him? So soon?
She’d known Doug DeVore for years. She remembered the twins as babies. Remembered when Harley was born, and Doug came in, passing out bubble gum cigars and bragging that he’d finally gotten that Harley he always wanted. She smiled at the memory. He still didn’t own a motorcycle, but oh, was he devoted to that little girl.
She knew the kind of man Doug was, admired him as a father, and as a husband, but she’d never allowed herself to look at him the way she looked at him now. He’d been a married man most of the time she’d known him.
The weight of his hand smothered hers. “Mickey? What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know, Doug. I…I’m confused.” Maybe she had a right to love him now that Kaye was gone. But if he could forget Kaye so soon and fall in love with someone else—with her—what did that say about him? About her?
For the second time she pulled her hand away. “I can’t think with you—touching me that way.”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t look sorry. But he rearranged his lanky frame back behind the steering wheel.
“It’s just too soon, Doug.”
He reached for her, then seemed to remember her rebuff and pulled his hand away. “Kaye’s not coming back, Mickey. I loved her with every cell of my being, but she’s not coming back. I believe God put you in my life for a reason.”
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
“I won’t rush you, Mickey. But I know what I want. And I intend to go after it.” Tentatively, as if she were a wild animal he meant to tame, he reached across the seat and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “I love you.”
“Doug…” Something inside her snapped, and her breath left her slowly. No man had ever treated her with the tenderness she felt beneath his gentle touch right now. Since college, in spite of the fact that her brothers’ wives were always trying to set her up with somebody, she could count the dates she’d had on two hands. Clayburn wasn’t exactly a mecca for eligible singles.
If Doug was ready for a relationship, why should there be any reason to hold back? He was a good man. A godly man. With him, she wouldn’t need to worry for one minute that there were secrets in his past or things she didn’t know about him.
She’d seen the kind of man he was, and if she hadn’t, the entire town of Clayburn would have testified on his behalf. Everybody loved Douglas DeVore.
As if he’d read her mind, Doug took her face in his hands. “What’s holding you back, Mickey?”
What was holding her back? Doug said he loved her. He knew what love felt like. She’d never been in love before, so maybe she was just slower to recognize it. She could trust him. Trust his love.
She placed her hands over his, trembling at the revelation. “I don’t know what’s holding me back, Doug. I…I think I might love you, too.”
He enveloped her in his embrace and kissed her thoroughly. And she stayed there, willingly, feeling as if she were exactly where she’d always belonged.
Since he’d declared his love for Mickey, it seemed like Kaye was all he could think about.<
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Chapter Twenty-two
Hey, I hope it’s not too late notice, but do you want to go to church with us?” Doug squeezed the phone between his ear and his shoulder and held his breath, waiting for Mickey’s answer.
“This morning?”
“Yeah. We’d pick you up about eight forty-five. You don’t have to dress up or anything.”
“Well…um…”
He could almost hear her internal calculator tallying the minutes: how long it would take to shower, dry her hair, do her makeup, get the kids dressed—
The thought brought him up short. It wasn’t Mickey’s “calculator” he was hearing. It was Kaye’s. If he didn’t quit doing that—mixing them up in his mind, blending their two unique personalities into one—he was going to stick his big fat foot in his mouth one of these days and be in deep, deep trouble. He shook his head, as if doing so could reset his memory.
Mickey’s short laugh broke his reverie. “I guess I could make it,” she said. “But what do you mean I don’t have to dress up? Can I wear what I wear to bowl?”
“Sure.” She always looked like a million dollars. He wasn’t worried about that.
“You’re positive? I’m not going to get there and want to kill you because every other woman has a dress on, am I?”
“I promise. Anyway, you’d be the most beautiful woman there if you wore a gunny sack.”
“Oh, aren’t you racking up the brownie points?”
He smiled into the phone. “Yes, aren’t I.”
“Well, if I’m going, I don’t have time to stand around chit-chatting.”
“Okay, babe. See you in a little bit.”
Babe. The endearment had rolled off his tongue so naturally, but he’d never used it with Mickey before. The dial tone rang in his ear. Babe. He wondered if Mickey had noticed, and more important, if she’d known that babe had been his pet name for Kaye.
Today would be a test of sorts. It had been over a week since they’d left the coffee shop and taken the cream puffs to Mickey’s house—cream puffs they never had gotten around to eating. He smiled at the thought of those sweet kisses in his truck. Sweetness that had moved quickly to passion. He’d walked her to the door and left—before things heated up too much.
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