by Colleen Coble, Kristin Billerbeck, Denise Hunter, Diann Hunt
Zoe grew quiet, lost in its beauty. “I never get tired of that view. The pink of the sky against the lush greenery here. I almost have to pinch myself that I get to live here.”
William put his car in park and watched Zoe, who was lost in the heavenly view. “I agree,” he said.
“Did you know that I plan to run romantic dinner evenings on the train when it gets here?”
“If I can get the train back to Smitten.”
“I believe you can. We all do.”
“It’s one of the things that attracted me most to the town. That, and the opportunity for big successes with a small budget.”
“I love the train,” she said, still staring at the lake. “The romance of it. Someone else is driving, and as a passenger you get to take in the view with someone special. I thought we’d run murder-mystery nights and have everyone dress up from a bygone era. Doesn’t that sound like a fun way to meet people?” She finally turned her gaze back to him.
“You have an old soul, Zoe.”
She blinked as she digested his comment. It was perhaps the first compliment to come out of his mouth that she couldn’t fling off with ease. She picked up the wooden turtle on his dashboard and ran her fingers across its belly. “What does the turtle mean?”
“My last temporary assignment was in Hilo. I told you that at dinner, right?”
She nodded.
“On my days off I used to go to the coast and take pictures of the turtles. They fascinate me. With all these temp jobs, they remind me that the turtle is always at home wherever he goes.”
“I live over there.” She pointed to the last cabin on the lake. Her long fingers caught his eye in their elegance, and he thought if any woman could make a man stay put, it was Zoe Thomas. Even in her holey jeans and oversized T-shirt, she possessed a quirky style all her own with a wispy scarf wrapped around her waist and short gray suede boots. She looked like a Hollywood star incognito for a weekend getaway.
He put the car in drive again and pulled up to the side of the gravel road in front of her lonely cabin at the end of the row. The sun was behind the mountain, and the brightness of the moon cast a deep blue hue over the valley.
“Looks like we’re out of daylight,” he said as she reached for the door handle.
“Yeah.”
“The ride goes faster with company. Do you need a lift to town in the morning?”
“No thanks.”
“I can come back for you if you’re worried I’ll leave too early.”
She shook her head. “Thanks again for the ride.” She looked down in her open palm and handed him back the wooden turtle. “The turtle is at home wherever he goes,” she echoed, but he didn’t understand what she meant by the remark.
He worried that if she left him now, she’d forget the warmth she’d shown him, and the initial chill would return.
“Zoe.” He reached for her. “Please. Let me get the door for you.” He clambered out of the car and around to the passenger door. As he opened it, she turned away from him to gather up her belongings. If he didn’t make his move, he’d regret it, and she’d go back to remembering why she didn’t like him.
He reached for her hand and helped her out of the car. The movement forced the canvas bag off of her shoulder, and its contents spilled out onto the gravel road. She immediately bent and he followed, grabbing up various cooking utensils and Tupperware boxes. They both stopped at the orange Jell-O salad remnants, which looked a deep violet under the moonlight as they jiggled on the pebbles.
“The one day my Jell-O doesn’t set right . . . I may have to turn the refrigerator up at the store.” She recovered. “When it’s legal to cook there and all.”
He lifted her chin away from the mess. “Show me the lake?”
She shook her head, and the last of the sunlight reflected off her dark tresses. “I shouldn’t. I have to get things ready for tomorrow.”
He felt the tug of her fears speaking for her and watched as she closed her eyes as if thinking on what might happen if she let him into her world. He slid the half-emptied canvas bag from her shoulder. “Let me walk you in.”
He plucked the rest of the items from the ground and put what was clean back into the bag.
“You don’t have to do that,” Zoe said.
He dropped the bag and all its contents again, then advanced toward her as though she might run. His palms wrapped around her cheeks. She lifted her chin toward him, and he bent to press a kiss on her lips. She returned his kiss and then pulled free and ran to her doorstep, leaving a trail of items on the overgrown lawn underneath the wooden rail fence that surrounded the property.
He collected them all and climbed the three steps to her log cabin, where he left the bag on the stoop under the porch light. “Good night, Zoe,” he said to the closed door. As he walked the short gravel path to his car, he stared back at the house, and a smile bloomed from every cell. Hawaii was the sea turtle’s home. Smitten was Zoe’s home. He wanted to understand what it took to call a woman like Zoe home.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Zoe tossed and turned all night. He’d kissed her. Out of the blue. She hadn’t done anything to encourage him. Not that she could remember anyway, and she wasn’t the sort of girl who had that kind of come-hither look that made a man melt. Which made William Singer even more confounding than he already had been. She couldn’t erase the kiss from her mind. It hadn’t felt forward and obnoxious. It seemed . . . natural, which confused her to no end. And sweet.
The kiss put her into a kind of trance that lasted all night and well into the bright morning sunlight. She would have forgotten to exit the bus if Rod, the driver, hadn’t woken her from her reverie.
“Zoe!” he shouted. She looked up to see the other passengers waiting for her to exit.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She looked at the faces waiting for her to make a move. “Thanks, Rod. I’ll see you tonight.” She hiked her canvas bag with the day’s groceries over her shoulder and padded down the steps.
A grin overtook her at the sight of her new business. Her new business, little Zoe Thomas’s new business. She saw her bicycle in the window and silently thanked Clare for taking care of the details. For some reason, she felt only lightness and happy thoughts at her vision. The fears had been banished. She’d like to chalk it up to prayer, but truth be told, she hadn’t gotten a lot of praying done thinking about that kiss. She crossed the brick street to the white clapboard storefront and headed down the alley to the back door. She unlocked the door and entered, breathing in the familiar musty scent. The interior of Cupid’s Arrow looked more like the inside of a barn than a retail space, though in a charming, romantic way. Its rough-hewn plank walls slapped with whitewash and rustic wood floors echoed back to another era when Smitten was a man’s town. A few bits of lace and some chandeliers had transformed the place to create an aura of romance for both men and women. Zoe dropped her bag on the counter and examined the open electrical boxes as though she had some idea of what she was looking at, but all she knew was that the exposed wires needed to be covered. With what, she had no idea.
Tess would arrive soon. She’d called the night before to tell Zoe what she’d been able to glean from Grandma Rose about her long-lost beau, and she’d agreed to pick up Arnold that morning. It took everything for Zoe not to blurt out that William Singer had kissed her, but the giddy emotion she felt bubble at the thought of sharing kept her from spouting off. If anyone heard her tone, they’d know her disdain for Mr. William Singer was something she had to work at.
Tess announced her arrival. “We’re here!” she shouted.
Zoe was washing her hands, getting ready to prepare the night’s dinner before she finished decorating the shop for that day. “Back here!” she shouted as she walked through the doorway to the front.
Arnold scuffled toward her with his walker. Zoe cringed with every step. “Arnold, be careful. I’m worried about you on these old planks. They’re not even.”
“Quit fus
sing. You’re like an old woman sometimes, Zoe. I may be old, but I’m not an invalid yet.”
She crossed her arms and sighed.
“Arnold and I were talking about David Hutchins,” Tess said, her eyes shining. “Grandma’s first love.”
“He served in the Korean War with my nephew.” Arnold nodded, still studying the walls and following the wires with his eyes.
“You didn’t tell me that,” Zoe said, feeling oddly disappointed.
“I’d forgotten. I told my son when he called last night that you girls were stirring up trouble from the past and he reminded me. After that, I called my nephew to see if he kept in touch.”
Tess balked. “We’re not stirring up trouble. We’re trying to solve a mystery. If David didn’t die in the war, how did his dog tags get in our grandma’s attic?”
“He lived through the war,” Arnold stated. “My nephew confirmed it. In fact, James told me he got a Christmas card from him last year.”
“A Christmas card!” Tess squealed. “So he’s still alive now?”
Arnold shrugged. “He’s not that old. Seventy-eight or so.”
“Is he married?”
“How would I know if he’s married?”
“Where did the Christmas card come from?” Tess probed. “What did the postmark say?”
“Tess,” Zoe said calmly. “Arnold doesn’t know where the card came from. His nephew got the card.”
“This year? Or last year?”
“Tess!”
“All right, but, Mr. Warner, you’ll find out for me, won’t you? You’ll ask your nephew? Or you can give me James’s number. I could call him.”
It was so like Tess to ignore that which she didn’t want to hear.
“Tess, Arnold came to look at the electrical for me.” Zoe talked through her teeth. “Maybe we could bring this up later?”
Tess frowned. “Okay. Clare’s coming to bring Arnold home in a little while. I’ve got to get going.” She raised her voice. “Bye, Arnold!”
He grunted as he held on to the walker with one hand and ran his other along the wire at eye level. “You’re renting this place, right?” he asked.
“I am, but it’s owned by Miss Draper, and she specifically told me she had no money for upgrades. If I wanted to rent it, I had to take it as is.”
“I’ll bet she said that.”
Ellie Draper was nobody’s fool. She ran the chocolate shop in town, and though she was very sweet, when it came to business she was ruthless. Compared to the rest of Smitten, at least. Not that Zoe regretted it. The spot on Main Street was worth the effort. She simply had to make it work until her stream of income was constant.
Arnold looked up toward the ceiling, and Zoe held her palms up behind him, worried that he’d lose his balance and topple over. “Here’s your problem.” He turned his walker around so that the padded seat faced him, then settled into the ready-made chair. Her shoulders relaxed with him safely seated as he pointed toward the wall.
“You’d be grandfathered into code with this old copper wiring, and it looks like it’s in good condition. You can’t go wrong with copper. Not in electrical, not in plumbing. So that’s no trouble. The only thing I see is that this junction box needs to be covered.” He pointed a shaky finger toward the metal box on the old wooden wall. “You can go buy a cover for it, screw it in, and you’re ready to go.”
“That’s it?” The tightness in her jaw returned. “The new city manager made it sound like I had major work to do before I open. He said I couldn’t cook in here.”
“You’re cooking in here?” Arnold’s fuzzy brows lifted.
“Remember? So I don’t have to go back to the cabin when I’m working.”
“Roll me back there,” Arnold said. “Your problem must be in the kitchen if this guy threatened to shut you down.”
She did as she was told and took Arnold near the stove. He rose, wobbled for a moment, then braced himself against the wooden island until he hobbled to the stove area and positioned himself behind the appliance where the wall ended. He groaned. “Oh. Uh-huh.” Another grunt. “No, that won’t do.” He gazed at her. “Do you have a flashlight?”
“Right here.” She handed him one. He lit it and manipulated the beam of light behind the stove. He clicked his tongue a few times and moaned again. There were a few disappointed groans, and Zoe knew there was more to her electrical problem than an easy fix.
“The new city manager is right. You’re running too many circuits on this panel. It’s not really a danger, but it is against the new code, and you won’t be grandfathered in for that. These appliances suck a lot of electricity, so you’re going to need a new panel if you want to cook. If you unplug the stove, you’re fine, but it’s still only temporary. I’d cover those wires if I were you. They’re legal for now, but they’re not ideal.”
“How much will a new panel cost?”
“Probably be about five hundred dollars.”
“Five hundred! Zoe, you can’t afford that.” Clare’s voice of doom preceded her into the room. She was wearing her work overalls with her leather gardening gloves hanging out of the pocket.
“Relax, Clare. I’ll think of something. I can cook at Mom’s house until I get it fixed. I only need a few cents to get the place open for Friday’s grand opening. I’ll tackle this like I’d eat a side of ribs at Zak’s place. One bite at a time.”
“I think I did a good job with the hanging plants. How many flower arrangements did you want for Friday?” Clare said.
“I’ll take whatever you can spare. Honestly, Clare, you have the greenest thumb. It seems like you can grow flowers just by dreaming about them.”
“I’ll need a number.”
“Of course you will.” Zoe looked back at Arnold, who was tinkering with the stove. “Arnold, sit down for a minute. I have to check something in the front.”
He ignored her and kept right on tinkering.
“I don’t think he heard you,” Clare said as they went through the doorway to the brighter part of the storefront that faced Main Street.
“He heard me. Arnold hears what he wants to hear.”
“I heard that!” Arnold shouted.
“Told you.”
“I sure hope this isn’t a mistake,” Clare said as she pulled a spray bottle from her overall leg pocket and sprayed the plants she’d stationed around the room. “I don’t understand where you got your romantic sensibilities from. It’s one thing to be a romantic, but to put your life savings on the line for it?” Clare shook her head. “In Smitten of all places!”
“In Smitten more than any place. We’re the romance capital now, remember?” Zoe walked to the front table where she’d displayed a myriad of trinkets and antiques that brought to mind romance. “On Friday, I’d like to have a bouquet of red roses with baby’s breath here on the antique lace. Between the chandelier and the candelabra.” She felt giddy just picturing the end product. “Hey, thanks for dropping off my bike last night.”
“I didn’t drop off your bike.”
“Yes, you did. It’s right there.”
“I didn’t drop off your bike.”
“So what do you think of bouquets in Victorian vases?” Zoe continued. “I’m sure Aunt Petunia has some vases lying around.”
“Maybe you could set them in an old teapot. That way you wouldn’t need as many roses. It would be cheaper and still look just as romantic.”
“Sometimes I can’t believe we were raised in the same household. You have a scarcity mentality, Clare. God can make more good things, I promise you.”
Clare spritzed her with water. “Aren’t you worried? You should be worried.”
“Why should I be? You’re doing all the worrying for me. I worried my bike wouldn’t be here and look, there it is.” She was worried, but telling Clare wouldn’t help. Zoe walked to the table on the opposite side of the room. “I’m thinking yellow roses here. That way I’ll know who is really interested in love and who wants friendship.”
“By the roses we put out?”
“I’ll bet you the men will congregate to the yellow side and the women, the red.”
“You really think people are going to show up?”
“I know you are going to show up. I’ve got this great guy for you to meet again. Remember Josh Campbell?”
Clare’s face scrunched up. “He played chess in high school. That Josh Campbell?”
“You can’t judge someone by high school. Think about the fashion statements we made.”
Clare peered down at her frumpy overalls, cuffed at the ankles. “Your point?”
“My point is, you’re my sister and you’ll be here.”
“Are you inviting the new city manager? I really liked him, and so did Mom.”
She wondered if Clare could see the redness in her cheeks. “Absolutely not. If William Singer had his way, he’d find a law on the books from 1837 and shut me down like I’m running a brothel.”
“Oh, Zoe. Must you be so crude? I thought William seemed very nice, and he seemed so interested in all you had to say last night while you just thumbed your nose at him. You were actually embarrassing. Mom and Aunt Violet even said something when you left.”
Zoe’s first thought was that she was glad that Mom and Aunt Violet weren’t in the car with them on the way out to the lake. “I didn’t do any such thing. You all arranged for him to drive me home without asking me if that would be all right. We don’t even know him. He could have been an ax murderer.”
Instead, he was worse. He was a world-champion kisser who made her feel alive and full of sunlight and buttercups.
“You know how we feel about you living outside of town.”
“Well, showing a perfect stranger where I live and that I live by myself isn’t exactly protection, is it? You know, everyone always says about the serial killer, ‘He was just so quiet and polite.’”
Arnold shuffled out of the back room, got to the doorway between the rooms, then rested on his walker. “Zoe, I’m tired and ready to go home.”