“Kids these days.” The man winked at Holly as he paid for the food and drinks and the two books.
“They think they know everything and we don’t know anything.” His wife laughed as she approached the counter with her books. “But give them eight uninterrupted hours with their own children and they’re pulling their hair out.” She froze in front of the pastry case. Her eyes lit up. “Are those chocolate gobs?”
Holly leaned back to see where the woman was pointing. “We call them whoopie pies. You must be from Pittsburgh.”
“Just north of the city.” The man jerked his head toward the case. “Give us two of those gobs...and put them in a plain brown wrapper.” He winked at his wife. “We’ll have them with coffee tonight.”
Holly smiled at the friendly couple as she handed them the full bag of supplies. “Where are you folks headed?”
“We’re on our way to Gettysburg.” The husband raised one bushy eyebrow. “We’re having an educational vacation this year, a last hurrah before school starts.”
“I just hope the motel has a hot tub.” The wife threaded her arm through her husband’s and waved goodbye as they returned to their family.
The van backed out of its spot and continued east. Holly dropped her head to the counter. “I’m ready to close. I’m exhausted.”
The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she heard a thump and then a muffled cry from the direction of the alcove. She glanced at the corner table. Empty. “Riley?”
Her heart jumped into her throat as she raced around the counter.
Riley lay on the floor, her arm clutched to her middle. “My arm hurts.”
Holly dropped to her knees. “What happened?”
“I was looking for a book to read. I couldn’t reach.” Tears started flowing. “I want my Daddy.”
“I’m here, honey.”
Holly hadn’t heard Mac come in. His face was stern as he knelt and reached for Riley’s injured arm. “Let me look, Riley.”
“I don’t know what happened. I had an irate customer and I saw Riley move to the back table. I thought she was coloring.”
Mac nodded. “Yeah, well, that’s why you need to keep your eyes on kids all the time, Holly.” He picked up his daughter. “We better get this arm checked out at the emergency room.”
“Do you want me to come?”
Ethan Johnson and Adam McClain came in with Crystal and Shelly.
“You have a business to run. I’ll take care of my daughter.” And with that he was gone.
Ethan approached the counter with his usual swagger. “How about four iced mochas, Miz H?”
Holly took a deep breath, her thoughts still on Riley’s injury. “Four iced mochas, coming right up, Mr. Johnson.” The teens congregated around the couch while Holly readied the ingredients for the drinks. Only the middle of the afternoon and she felt like pushing the teens off the couch and flopping down for a twelve-hour nap. She set the drinks on the end of the counter. “Four iced mochas.”
The teens collected their drinks and disappeared to the alcove. Holly was wondering what condition the magazines were in when Hawkeye and Skinny Smith showed up for their monthly order of beans. “Hello, gentlemen.”
The twins dipped their chins in unison. “Miss Hoffman.”
“Could you make us two Spanish macchiatos, Holly? I read about them recently and they sounded delicious.” Skinny leaned forward, one bushy white eyebrow raised in challenge. “Do you think you can make a Spanish macchiato?”
“Of course, Skinny. Have a seat while I get them ready for you.” Holly gritted her teeth as she pushed through the kitchen door, wondering where her mother had put the sweetened condensed milk. Of all days...
* * *
BY THE HUNDREDTH time she’d wiped the counters, mopped the floor and cleaned the pots, Holly was exhausted. And she hadn’t heard a word from Mac. She prayed Riley wasn’t hurt badly.
After flipping the sign to Closed, she locked the door. The sun had set. The sky was the color of an old bruise. She tossed her apron on the counter, turned off all the lights and sank onto the couch. Slipping off her sneakers, she sighed. Her back was killing her, a steady pulsing that intensified as she lay down. She couldn’t walk the three blocks to the house. She would just lie here for five minutes, just five minutes, maybe ten.
The last thing she saw was the square of light from the streetlamps shining through the windows onto the freshly mopped floor. Her eyelids slammed shut.
Holly was riding Twister at the fair. She trotted him around the barrels, her saddle creaking. The crowd looked bored, but for some reason she didn’t want to go faster. Suddenly they started to applaud—another rider had entered the ring. Wait a minute, she thought. I’m not finished. You’re not supposed to come in the ring until I’m finished. “You’re too slow,” someone shouted.
Using an English saddle, the other rider rode a magnificent black horse. She wore black riding pants with black boots up to her knees. Her white blouse sparkled and her black top hat set off pale blond hair tied in a French chignon. The rider was Ms. King. Somehow she was Mac’s wife, too.
Twister continued to trot around the barrels. Her Western saddle squeaked loudly with each bounce, but the crowd had ceased to pay attention. All eyes were fixed on the black horse and pale rider as they cantered along the rail. When the pair was at the opposite end of the ring, a magnificent white stallion galloped through the gate. Dressed in white-tie and tails, Mac looked unbelievably handsome as he rode past Holly and Twister toward the woman on the black horse.
“Mac.” Her lips couldn’t form his name.
Suddenly night fell and a spotlight shone on the beautiful couple as they galloped around the ring to thunderous applause.
Left in the dark, Holly looked down at her jeans and dusty boots and her black T-shirt. Twister plodded around the barrels and the saddle continued to squeak.
“Be quiet.” The judge in the box glared as she rounded the third barrel.
“I can’t.” The words formed but nothing came out.
“Shh.”
Holly opened her eyes. She lay on the couch, her head wedged between the back cushion and the arm. The square of light from the streetlamp flickered as a shadow passed by. What was that? she thought. Rats? No way, please don’t let it be rats. Cappuccino cat must be sleeping on the job. She pushed herself up from the couch, propping herself on the arm for support.
“Somebody’s on the couch.” The voice rang out clear as a bell. A shadowy form stood behind the counter at the cash register.
“Hey, who’s back there?” Her brain still felt foggy from sleep as Holly struggled to sit up.
“Let’s get out of here.” An unfamiliar male voice came from the door.
The person behind the cash register rounded the end of the counter and raced for the door. Holly shot off the couch. She reached out and caught the tail of the runner’s shirt. He jerked away and she pitched forward, slamming her head into a table. The thief tore through the door. The last thing Holly saw before she blacked out was two dark shadows racing past the window, leaving the door wide-open.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“HOLLY, WAKE UP.” Mac patted Holly’s pale cheeks. Ever since Pierre’s call, Mac’s heart had been pounding like a kettledrum. He should’ve done more about these petty thefts. It was only a matter of time until someone got hurt.
Her eyelids fluttered. “Mac?” She struggled to lift herself from the floor.
Mac wrapped an arm around her and helped her to her feet. “Feel okay?” He struggled to retain his professional demeanor, but the sight of Holly stretched out on the floor had sent fear like a dagger into his heart.
His arm tight around her waist, Mac walked Holly to the couch. Easing her onto the cushions, he sat beside her. “Do you remember what
happened?”
Holly closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “I was having a dream, a weird dream.” She rested her head on the back of the couch. “A customer was riding a horse, but then the customer was—” Opening her eyes, she looked at Mac.
“It doesn’t matter, Holly. What did you see when you woke up?”
“I heard squeaking and I thought the noise came from my saddle. It was so loud, but I condition my saddles...at least I used to.”
“The window back here is open,” Moose called out from the alcove. “This is how they got in.” The window squeaked, followed by a slam as Moose closed and locked it.
Pierre sat on the coffee table in front of Holly. “Thank goodness I was working late. I did not hear anything until they ran outside and down the porch. I saw two of them go around the side of the building.” He squeezed her hand. “How are you feeling, mon amie?”
Holly leaned her head against Mac’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “I have a pounding headache.”
Mac wanted to do nothing more than wrap his arms around her, and he was just about to when Sonny burst through the door. “What the hell happened here?” When he caught sight of Holly he crossed the room in three short strides. Rounding the coffee table, he sat on the couch next to Holly and gathered her into his arms. “Oh, my goodness, is she dead? My baby sister is dead.”
Holly’s muffled voice sounded from the folds of his Pittsburgh Steelers sweatshirt. “I can’t breathe.”
“She can’t breathe! Who knows CPR?”
Pierre glanced at Mac and raised his eyebrows.
“She’s not dead, Sonny.” Mac peeled the man’s huge hands from his sister’s head. “But she was unconscious a little bit. You need to stop bouncing her around.”
Sonny eased away and looked down at Holly’s face.
She took a deep breath and said, “You’re not getting my share of the inheritance yet.”
Sonny scowled. “That’s not funny, Holly. What happened here?”
Holly managed a bleak smile. “Nothing.”
“Are you kidding?” Mac said. “You were unconscious when Pierre found you.”
“I don’t think so. I was—um—shaken up. I’ve taken worse falls barrel racing.” She rubbed her temples with both hands.
“Yeah, well, you’re no spring chicken. After a while your body stops bouncing back like it used to.”
Holly scowled. “What’s with you and spring chickens, bro?”
Mac smoothed the hair from her forehead. “You have a headache? I better get you to the emergency room.”
“But—”
Mac laid his hand on her cheek. “Better safe than sorry. The good news is it’s the middle of the night. They should take us right in.”
With her eyes only half open, Holly stared at him a moment as if deciding whether she wanted to argue the point. Apparently she didn’t have the energy because she sighed. “Okay, Chief McAndrews, you win. But what about—” She pointed toward the counter.
Mac followed her gaze to the counter. The cash register drawer hung open as did the door to the pastry case. A basket of biscotti had been knocked all over the floor. He caught Moose’s eye. “Dust for fingerprints before anybody else shows up.”
“Why on Earth would they come to a coffee shop?” Holly mumbled.
Sonny tapped her knee. “Why were you here so late anyway?”
“I was exhausted.” Holly threw her brother a faint smile. “I was busy today.”
“And I wasn’t around to help.” Louise walked over from the doorway and perched on the coffee table. “I’m sorry, honey.”
“What are you doing here?” Holly’s eyes widened.
Louise glanced up at Moose, who was staring at her with narrowed eyes. “I heard about the break-in.” She patted Holly’s hand. “Don’t worry. Moose and I will take care of things here. Mac’s right. You should get checked out at the emergency room.”
“Listen to your friend, Holly. After all, she is a nurse.” Mac propped his hands on his knees and levered himself off the couch.
“Good idea, although I know from experience she has a hard head,” Sonny said, swiping at his eyes.
“Ha-ha.” Holly elbowed her brother in the ribs.
Mac couldn’t help but notice the look of affection passing between brother and sister, but then, he’d known the family for years. They were tight. “Let’s go, Hard Head Hoffman.” He lifted Holly from the couch and wrapped his arm around her waist. He had no intention of leaving her side.
* * *
HOLLY LAY ON a stretcher in the emergency room cubicle, a white curtain drawn around the bed for privacy. Her memory of the events of the evening was still fuzzy. The dream and the robbery were all one in her brain. “How did you hear about the break-in?”
Mac stood by the bed, his face drawn and circles under his eyes. “Pierre called 911 and Moose was on patrol. I forgot to tell you Pierre had been missing some money, too, and I told him we’d keep a watch on the place.”
“That’s right. I remember now. Pierre said he had so much work his wife would forget what he looked like.” Holly ran her hand over the smooth sheet covering her middle.
Mac reached for her hand. “You said you were busy today?”
“Oh, man, I was inundated. First Wendy Valentine met with Ms. King. You know, she’s a nice woman. Then our moms and Riley came over. Hey, she talked you into getting a puppy.”
Mac’s somber face finally creased in a smile. “She wore me down.”
Holly sat straight up. “She was hurt. Oh, I forgot. Mac, is Riley okay?”
“She’s fine. Not even a sprain.” Pushing her back against the pillow, his face sobered. “Are you okay? Are you dizzy or anything?”
“My head hurts a little.” She reached up and touched his face. “You look exhausted.”
“Who else came in today?”
Holly closed her eyes against the bright fluorescent lights. “A family on their way to Gettysburg.” Thinking of the helpful grandparents, she murmured, “I hope the hotel had a hot tub.”
“Holly?” Mac patted her hand.
“They had a set of twins about thirteen or fourteen who went back in the alcove. Maybe they opened the window.”
“Maybe, but I doubt the family came back to rob the place, although you never know. I’ve heard of parents who teach their children to steal.”
“Terrible.” Holly shook her head, and then winced at the shot of pain in her right temple. “The usual bunch of teenagers came in and they all ordered complicated drinks and, speaking of complicated drinks, the Smith twins came in for their monthly supply of coffee beans and ordered—” she placed a hand on her forehead as she struggled to remember “—something with sweetened condensed milk. Oh, I can’t remember.”
“Having memory problems, are we?” The doctor strolled into the cubicle, reviewing her chart. “Holly, what are you doing wrestling with hoodlums in the middle of the night?”
Holly smiled. “Believe me, that wasn’t my intention.”
“Twice in one day, Chief?”
“Not on purpose,” Mac said, resting his hand on her arm. “Which reminds me, you said you were busy yesterday, but why were you still there at midnight?”
“That’s what I was telling you. I was so busy with customers I didn’t get cleaned up until late. I was so exhausted I sat down on the couch for five minutes to rest. The next thing I knew I saw shadows and heard people talking.”
Peering into Holly’s eyes, the doctor said, “Mac, do you know how long she was unconscious?”
“No. She had come to by the time I arrived.”
“Vital sighs appear to be normal. Do you know what day this is, Holly?” Holly squinted as a beam of light shone into her eye.
“Well, when I went to wo
rk this morning, it was Wednesday, so if it’s after midnight, it must be Thursday.”
The doctor straightened and glanced at Mac. “I don’t think it’s necessary, but I could order a CAT scan.”
“I don’t want—”
“CAT scan? She needs a CAT scan?” Rose rushed into the room, followed by Fritz. Holly’s heart sank as she saw the exhaustion on her parents’ faces.
“I’m fine, Mom. I don’t need a CAT scan. Edna the librarian might need a CAT scan, but I don’t.”
Mac smiled. “Her name’s Eliza.”
“Who’s Eliza?” Her father pressed his lips in a firm line and waited for an answer.
Her mother smoothed the hair from her forehead and rested her hand on Holly’s cheek. “Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“A little bump on the head, no big deal. I’ll be up and about in no time.”
“Twenty-four hours,” the doctor muttered, scribbling madly on the chart.
“What’s that, Doctor?” Mac stepped back and reached for the doctor’s sleeve as he started to leave.
“The nurse will give you all the instructions, but she needs to have someone nearby for twenty-four hours to keep an eye on her, watch for signs of confusion, dizziness. With those provisions, I’m releasing her.” He nodded briskly and pointed his pen at Holly. “No more wrestling with hoodlums, young woman.”
Her father rounded the bed and stood next to Mac. “She was safer in the military.”
“Oh, Dad, don’t start.”
“You are pale,” Rose said.
“Why don’t I leave you three alone while I follow up with Moose?” Mac wiggled Holly’s foot under the sheet. “I’ll be back.”
Rose trailed after him. “I’ll call your brothers.”
Fritz settled into the chair by the bed. “How do you feel?”
“I am so ready to get out of here.”
Her father glanced at the clock on the wall. “Shouldn’t be much longer. How’s your head?”
“Like Sonny said, I have the Hoffman hard head. I’m fine, Dad.”
Wanted--The Perfect Mom Page 16