Wanted--The Perfect Mom

by T. R. McClure

  Mac propped his ankle on his knee. “I’m not surprised. Wednesday I drove by and your line was so long I ended up getting coffee at the gas station. Again.”

  Holly made a face. “So you said. I figured you aren’t particular when it comes to coffee.”

  “I was in a hurry.” Mac patted his knee and threw her a look. “I can appreciate quality.”

  Wondering if he was still talking about coffee, Holly shivered. “I’m afraid business might slow once people get over the novelty of having a coffee shop in town.” While he read her menu board she studied him. He looked less severe than he did in uniform, more like the boy she knew in high school. Even his close-cropped light brown hair showed hints of the blond streaks she remembered. Suddenly he turned his head and caught her watching him.

  “I was thinking about our encounter the other day.”

  Heat crept up Holly’s neck and onto her cheeks as she remembered her rudeness. “I apologize, I—”

  “I’m the one who should apologize.” Cup clasped in both hands, Mac leaned forward. “I wasn’t very nice to you when we were kids.”

  She sipped her coffee, let the hot liquid lie on her tongue before swallowing. Over the rim of her mug, her eyes met his. “Really? I don’t remember.”

  Did he know she was lying? Of course she remembered. The incident in eighth grade was one of those memories that stays with you forever. It’s bad enough to think everybody is laughing at you. In Holly’s case, she had known they were. Thanks to Mac and his timely, loud and accurate insult.

  Mac kept her gaze as if trying to read her. Balancing the coffee cup on his knee, he took a deep breath. “We moved here two weeks before school started, two weeks before I entered the tenth grade. Chris was one of my first new friends. But then Chris was friends with everybody.” Mac stared into his coffee cup. “The first time he invited me to your place was for a family Christmas party.”

  Holly had a clear picture in her mind of fifteen-year-old Mac coming in the door with Chris. “That was the year Thomas and Sonny got into a fight and knocked over the Christmas tree.”

  “Never a dull moment at your house,” Mac said, grinning. “We moved here because my mom wanted to be near her sister.”

  “Who was your aunt?”

  “I doubt you knew her. She worked for the federal government. Three months after we moved here she got a promotion in Maryland. She left and we were back to not knowing anyone in town.”

  “Until you met Chris.”

  A ghost of a smile lit his face, then quickly disappeared. “I spent a lot of time at your place. Mom started nursing school. She was hardly ever home.”

  “I can’t believe you preferred the chaos at—”

  “There’s no excuse for the way I treated you, the things I did.” Mac shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

  His shoulders were set and he couldn’t meet her eyes. Apparently his apology hadn’t come easy. Although moving to a new school didn’t entirely explain why he’d singled her out for his verbal attacks. Maybe she would never know. But then, he had always been a mystery. “No worries, Mac. You were going through a hard time.”

  He shrugged. “Being with your family helped.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “I remember you riding your bay horse all the time, running barrels in the field. What was his name?” Mac pulled a paperback from the shelf and studied the front cover.

  “Twister.” She had avoided Mac through the end of eighth grade and all through ninth, but in tenth grade, things changed. She shot up five inches, thinned out. Part of the reason she’d begun competing in barrel racing was Mac’s constant presence at Chris’s side. Even then, she’d sometimes see Mac leaning on a fence post, watching. When she caught him watching her, he’d walk away. Riding Twister had built her confidence. The trampoline incident faded. “I haven’t ridden in years.”

  “Too bad. You were so good.” He returned the book to the shelf.

  Holly drummed her fingers, wondering how the old gelding was doing. “He was a good horse.”

  “So what possessed you to open a coffee shop in Bear Meadows?”

  She leaned forward. “Walking around European cities all those years, visiting cafés, I always thought, I can bring this home, this feeling of carefree abandon. I want this, but at home.” She looked around the shop. Her shop. The comfortable chairs, the used books, the menu on the back wall. Her gaze returned to Mac, who was watching her, his blue eyes alert. “Why did you come home?”

  With a quick look at the clock, Mac stood and carried his empty cup to the counter. “I’ve got to run.”

  Grabbing her own cup, Holly followed more slowly. She might have bought his answer if she hadn’t seen the brief flicker in his eyes. Fear? Embarrassment? She couldn’t tell. She studied his broad shoulders. Whatever emotion she’d seen, it reminded her that there were two sides to Mac McAndrews. One very sweet...and one very ugly.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE BELL OVER the door jingled.

  Mac’s large frame blocked her view of the door, yet Holly breathed a sigh of relief at the interruption. Until the person walked up to the counter.

  “Are you busy?” Her father glanced from her to Mac and back again.

  Holly wiped sweaty palms on the front of her apron. “Hi, Dad. What brings you here?”

  Ignoring her question, Fritz faced Mac. The two men were about the same height. Chin thrust out with a hint of challenge, the older man eyed the younger.

  Mac stretched out his hand. “Good morning, Mr. Hoffman. Nice to see you.”

  Fritz’s hand came up slowly, then tightened around Mac’s. “Chief.”

  The refrigerator pump kicked on. A batch of ice crashed down into the ice machine. Holly looked from one man to the other. A current sizzled between them.

  Holly wasn’t sure what was going on, but she couldn’t let it continue. “Do you want a cup of coffee to go, Mac?”

  Her father finally released Mac’s hand and, without a word, wandered over to the alcove.

  Mac watched him go, and then lowered his voice. “No more coffee today, thanks, but before I go I wanted to mention something. Remember the day you ran into me coming out of The Cookie Jar?”

  Holly’s eyes narrowed. “Are you referring to the day you tripped over the flowerpot?”

  Mac threw a half grin her direction before continuing. “Anyway, the day we ran into each other, Sue asked me to come in because she thought she was missing some things.”

  Her arms erupted in goose bumps. Sue couldn’t afford to miss anything. If Sue went out of business, Holly might, too. “Missing what things?”

  Mac glanced toward the pastry case. “Well, she thought somebody was taking baked goods.”

  Holly followed his gaze. She suddenly realized nobody was taking inventory of her own baked goods. She could be missing food and not even know. “Is she missing anything else?”

  “She left her change at the store a couple nights last week and took the cash upstairs. When she came down in the morning the drawer was cleaned out. I looked around but saw no sign of a break-in.” He slid his empty cup across the counter. “Have you noticed anything missing?”

  Holly motioned toward the cup. “My mug inventory is dwindling. But they’re not stolen, they’re kind of borrowed long-term. When the store is crowded, people take their coffee out on the porch and then keep right on going.”

  “I’m sure they’ll all plead innocent. You should charge them for the cup when they buy coffee.” Mac chuckled. “Maybe Sue put the change somewhere and then forgot. She hasn’t been herself since, well, you know.” He glanced toward the alcove where her father could be seen looking out the window. “I wanted to give you a heads-up about the possible thefts.”

  She set her cup next to his. Mac caught her arm. Her ski
n tingled where his warm hand wrapped around her forearm. Looking up, she saw concern in his eyes.

  “Just be careful, okay? I got notice this morning someone robbed the bank’s branch office in Shadow Falls. That’s fifty miles from here but still, who knows what’s going on? The culprit might be one person, or a gang.”

  Holly licked her dry lips and said, “Don’t worry, Chief, I can take care of myself.” She pulled out of his grasp and rounded the counter. Pausing across from him, she reached for the empty cups.

  Mac wrapped his fingers around her wrists. “I’m sure you can, but all the same, I’ll have Moose Williams stop by every once in a while, just to see what’s going on.”

  The touch of his warm hand sent tingles up her arm and managed to scramble the neurons in her brain. She met his gaze and, like one of her many tumbles from the back of her horse, found herself unable to breathe.

  Between Mac’s touch and her father’s unexpected appearance, Holly’s brain seemed to be misfiring. Her father chose that moment to return. His gaze lighted on Mac’s hands circling her wrists. Holly pulled her hands back across the counter. “Would you look at that? I forgot to uncover the pastries.”

  “Thanks for the coffee, Holly. I’ll see you around.”

  Mac disappeared through the door with a jingle. Silence returned to the coffee shop. Fritz strolled around the tables, walked past the shelves of books and then returned to the counter. “I can’t believe what people pay for a cup of coffee these days.”

  “What was that about?” Holly tossed the wrappings in the garbage.

  “What do you mean?”

  “That thing with Mac. You looked like two big dogs, sizing each other up.”

  Her father chuckled. “Ask him.” He studied the menu board. “I remember when coffee was a quarter.”

  Holly took a deep breath. Looking down at the embroidered flower on her apron, she let out the air slowly. “Well, you’re in luck. You get the family discount.”

  Her father shot her a look. “Discount? I figured I’d get coffee for free.” He finally smiled.

  Holly reached for a ceramic mug and then hesitated. “Did you want your coffee to go?” Although her father’s first visit to her new coffee shop was a momentous occasion, she couldn’t imagine he actually planned to hold a conversation.

  “Well, I do have a project back at the house.” He glanced at the pastries in the case. “Oh, what the heck. I can spare a couple minutes. Go ahead. I’ll take one of those bear claws, too. Sue is quite the baker. She’s probably half the reason you get people in here, just for her baked goods.”

  Holly shook her head. She didn’t bother to remind her father that if people wanted the baked goods they could walk down the boardwalk, buy a box and take them home. The Wildflower provided a destination with ambience. She set the cup on the counter, then retrieved a bear claw from the case.

  Carrying her father’s order to the low table, she set down the coffee and pastry and sat, waiting for her father to finish his inspection.

  Her dad settled into the chair opposite and picked up his cup. He sipped, set down the cup and forked off a bite of the breakfast treat.

  “Do you like the coffee?” Holly had spent days finding the perfect blend for her signature coffee, with just the right amount of acidity and strength. She was proud of her creation.

  Fritz held the cup under his nose and sniffed. “Strong.”

  Holly pursed her lips, biting back the immediate retort that came to mind in favor of a more diplomatic answer. “The proper terminology is bold.”

  “If you say so.” Fritz stared out the front window. “I still can’t believe people in this town will pay the kind of money you’re asking, especially when so many are out of work.”

  “Thanks for the encouragement, Dad.”

  He finally looked directly at her. “Encouragement has nothing to do with it. You either make it or you don’t. You have to understand business.”

  “You don’t have a business degree. Sonny and Thomas don’t have degrees.” Leaning forward, Holly propped her elbows on her knees and clenched her hands into fists. It took everything she had not to blow up at the man. “Are you afraid I won’t pay you back at the end of the year?”

  Fritz set down the cup with a clatter. “I have to stop at the hardware store.” He wrapped the half-eaten pastry in a napkin and shoved the package into his shirt pocket. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  And ten minutes after he showed up at her shop for the first time, Holly’s father disappeared out the door.

  Holly dropped her head in her hands. What happened to the father she knew and when had he become so darn difficult?

  * * *

  BEFORE LONG, MAC was stopping at The Wildflower every morning for a cup of Holly’s special blend. The caffeine helped him function and he was supporting a local business. Right?

  He didn’t know if his simple apology would be enough, but her animosity had lessened. So he arrived promptly at seven, got a mug of coffee and chatted with whoever was working. Sometimes her mother, sometimes Louise and sometimes Carolyn stood behind the counter while Holly busied herself in the kitchen or storeroom. On Saturday mornings, Holly would sit with him and share a coffee and the local news. Then he would grab a coffee to go and continue about his day.

  The Friday before Memorial Day weekend, Mac paid for his coffee and ran into Chris Hoffman on his way out the door.

  Chris slapped his shoulder. “Hey, man, long time no see.” Tall, thin, with stylishly cut jet-black hair, the thirty-year-old turned as many heads now as he did in high school.

  “Look at you,” Mac said, “you’re the poster boy pilot.” He gripped Chris’s outstretched hand. “Where have you been, Chris? Or should I say, where haven’t you been?”

  “Flying right seat with the big boys. I just got back from LA.” Chris laughed as he shut the door and looked around the shop. “I’m on a ten-day break and I thought I’d check out baby sister’s business venture.” He turned at the sound of the kitchen door banging open. “There she is—the family entrepreneur.”

  Holly paused when she caught sight of Mac and Chris. Just a few days ago she would have been irritated at the sight, remembering how often Mac had inserted himself between her and her closest brother. But since Mac’s disclosure, she’d started to let go of that old hurt.

  “Hey, bro, welcome home.” She shot a look at Mac. “Good morning, Chief McAndrews.”

  Mac smiled and said, “Good morning, Ms. Hoffman.” He tore his gaze from Holly’s bright green eyes and slapped Chris on the back. “Let’s get together while you’re home.” He reached for the door.

  Chris’s face lit up. “Why don’t you join the family Monday afternoon at the farm? Thomas is burning burgers.”

  “Sounds good, Chris. I look forward to catching up.”

  “And bring your mom and your little girl.”

  The words were a bucket of ice water on his thoughts of spending time with Holly away from the shop. “Mom is on a bus trip and my, um, Riley is still in North Carolina with her grandparents.”

  “Another time, then.” Chris grinned.

  Without a backward glance, Mac left the coffee shop and paused on the porch, taking a deep breath of the cool morning air. The tempting aroma of fresh-baked bread reached him and he glanced down the boardwalk toward The Cookie Jar. There had been no more instances of disappearing change or baked goods. Maybe Sue had been confused, after all.

  Across the street, Tom Johnson waved as he got out of his car and walked toward the bank. “Beautiful day, Chief,” he said.

  Mac nodded and held up his cup in a wordless salute. Tom disappeared into the bank, locking the door behind him. No banker’s hours for Tom, Mac mused as he clattered down the steps to his police car. He didn’t regret coming back here. Bear Meadows was made up
of good people, salt of the earth. But he had no social life. Any high school friends had either moved on or were busy with families, as he had once been. He pushed thoughts of his daughter out of his mind. Her grandparents would entertain his daughter over the holiday better than he ever could. He liked talking to Holly, but she scared him. She always had. Mac backed out of the parking space.

  He took a swig of coffee and headed toward Shadow Falls for a visit with their police chief. The bank branch had been robbed again the previous day, only this time the culprits, a man and a woman, were caught on a surveillance camera. Seemed like the perfect distraction.

  * * *

  “WHEN DID YOU get in?” Holly wiped the counter, where a dried glob of chocolate syrup resisted her efforts. Mac’s daughter didn’t live with him. Interesting. He must know as much about childcare as she did.

  “Late last night. We’re staying in the Daffodil room.”

  Holly paused. “I never took Valerie for the B-and-B type. For a woman you met over a glass of pinot noir at the San Francisco Airport, I’m surprised you convinced her. How does she like sleeping in a room where everything is yellow?”

  Chris settled onto the stool at the end of the counter. “The Jacuzzi Dad installed makes up for the over-the-top cheerfulness. And she wanted the baby to be around her grandparents. Harley just started to walk last week.” He leaned on the counter. “You don’t mind my asking Mac to come over, do you? You two weren’t exactly friendly back in the day.”

  Holly frowned as the last trace of chocolate disappeared into her cloth. Chris had been home with chicken pox the day Mac had turned Holly into a laughingstock in gym class. He had never mentioned the incident and she doubted any of his friends dared to tell him about it. “He made some comments I wasn’t happy about.”

  Chris shrugged. “We were kids. Boys pick on girls. That’s our raison d’être.”

  Holly sighed, feigning nonchalance. “In response to your question, no, I don’t mind. The more, the merrier.”

  “Good,” he said. “Is your business doing well?”