Mail Order Soulmate

by Jean Oram

  “Look at you, getting so big.”

  His diaper had leaked a bit while he’d slept and she changed him into a borrowed one-piece outfit that had a hippo on the front, the navy blue bringing out the darkness of his eyes and hair.

  “Mummy needs to go to the store so she can touch up her roots and look pretty.” She gave Xavier kisses all over his belly. Gaining weight and dying her hair had given her a decent all-new identity, one she intended to hold on to. “But it’s scary outside. Too much snow for Mum.”

  She carried Xavier down to the living room, where Zach was wrestling with the chair’s large shipping box, snipping the tape so the carton would lie flat. “I suppose Xavier’s still too small to enjoy in a cardboard box fort?”

  “A little bit. But I’m not.”

  “Sorry, you missed playtime, Mama.”

  “When is this snow ever going to end?” she asked, standing in front of the window. She was embarrassed by the amount of dark roots that were showing, and had resorted to a ponytail, hoping Zach hadn’t noticed just how far from being a true blonde she actually was.

  Outside, the whole street was a winter wonderland of softened shapes and dampened sounds, the pure white coverlet sparkling when the sun made a random appearance. But the storm had also left her housebound, as she didn’t know how to drive in these conditions, and the stroller was impossible to push.

  She’d seen a mom go by with a set of twins bundled on a sled, marching up and down the street, getting her exercise, while walking the dog, as well.

  The problem was, if Catherine asked for a sled Zach would get one. It would be too easy to take advantage of his generosity. Especially since he seemed to enjoy spoiling Xavier. He’d bought the boy a lovely stuffed giraffe and a hippo. Xavier was too young to play with them, but during his tummy time on the rug he loved to stare at the giraffe with his big, beautiful eyes.

  Zach came over to stand beside her and watch the falling snow. “It’s peaceful.”

  “Mesmerizing.”

  He turned away, saying casually, “It will probably end about in April.”

  “April!” she exclaimed, startling Xavier, who was cozied up against her chest. Catching Zach’s expression, she relaxed. “You can’t joke about things like that. It’s still only November and not officially winter yet! I can’t imagine it getting worse than this.”

  “It’s not uncommon to get snow into May around here.”

  “Zach!”

  He flinched, pretending to cower. “What? The mountains and altitude bring on storms and strange weather patterns. It’s not my fault.”

  “I’m blaming you if it snows in May.”

  “You’ve got cabin fever?” he asked, becoming a bit more serious.

  “I feel like I’m going to go bonkers.”

  “Then let’s go out,” he said simply.

  “In this?” She could barely see across the street, snowflakes were falling so steadily. It was like the frozen equivalent of a typical rainy November in the UK.

  “In this.” Zach grinned and headed to the coat closet in the entryway. Seconds later he reappeared with an armload of clothing.

  “I don’t think I could manage to walk in this. Not with the stroller.” She was afraid to use the baby carrier that kept Xavier snug to her chest in case he suffocated under all the layers.

  “We’re driving.” Zach jingled his keys and Catherine’s heart lifted, until she sized up the pile of clothing. It was so much work to get ready. But Zach had explained to her the other day, as he’d gotten bundled up to drive to the store for milk—in his repaired Land Rover, which looked amply suited for the weather conditions, as well as a family of three—that you always wanted to be dressed for the worst. He’d listed possible things that would leave you stranded, such as accidents, an icy patch that put you into the ditch, a weather-induced breakdown, or a road closure or avalanche. She hadn’t even thought of avalanches being a danger, and now cast a suspicious glance at every peak that dared show itself through the hovering clouds.

  “Can we stop at the chemist?” she asked, hoping they carried her usual brand of hair dye so she wouldn’t have to puzzle through which brand would be the closest match to her existing color.

  “The drugstore? Sure.”

  “Then I’m in.” Taking Xavier’s snowsuit so she could begin the process of wrangling him into it, she asked, “Remind me again why I moved here?”

  “Because it happens to be where the best men are.”

  Quite simply, she had to agree.

  Having already stopped by the drugstore, Zach led Catherine to the entrance of Brew Babies. The pub held pretty much all the town’s nightlife under one roof. While it didn’t open for another few hours, he knew Moe was expecting him, as Zach and Ethan had been working together to update his wiring and technology in hopes of increasing his internet speed.

  Zach carried Xavier in the car seat, Catherine having grown comfortable with him taking the boy more and more often, even allowing him to scoop Xavier up if he was fussing while she showered in the mornings. Progress. Same with how the smudges under her eyes had disappeared, replaced with a healthy glow that made her look a little bit like that actress from Titanic. British, flushed and lively, blonde and curvy, and pretty much his ideal woman when it came to looks. That Catherine didn’t take him too seriously was simply icing on the already delicious cake. He was a lucky man.

  He hurried to reach the door first, crunching across the snow. He swung it open for his bride and she stepped in, stomping the snow off her boots. They paused for a moment to allow their eyes to become accustomed to the dimmer light inside.

  “We aren’t allowed to serve babies,” Moe said. He came around the long counter at the other end of the pub, where he’d been unpacking a box of new wineglasses.

  “Babies is in your name, and doesn’t most of what you serve come out of bottles?” Zach quipped.

  “Funny. I’ll have to try that one on Amy.”

  “Did I hear my name?” Amy came down the hall where the office and washrooms were, massaging her lower back. She was about five months pregnant and, as far as Zach could tell, as happy as could be. The kind of happy most people longed for. He might even be hoping for a little bit of it himself.

  “You must be Catherine,” she said. “I’m so sorry I missed meeting you at the surprise party. Since we bought the pub a few months ago, it’s been a little bit crazy keeping up with it all.” Amy came forward and gave Catherine a welcoming hug, which seemed to take his wife by surprise. “Ginger McGinty is beside herself over how Zach found himself someone without her. Be sure to rub that in whenever you can.” She smiled and bent to look at Xavier, so Zach hoisted the carrier and sleeping boy higher. “Oh, he is even more adorable than everyone’s been saying.”

  “You must be about five or six months along?” Catherine asked.

  Amy beamed and nodded. “Five and a half.”

  “You may as well come in,” Moe said, as they were all still standing near the doors. “I doubt we’ll get fined for having a minor in here, since we’re technically closed and not serving alcohol.”

  “I always forget your pubs aren’t like the UK’s,” Catherine said, taking in the establishment. “Ours allow minors.”

  Zach moved to the bar and slid onto a stool, then placed the car seat on the counter. He adjusted the carrier, making sure it was safe where it was, and then unzipped the snowsuit Xavier was bundled up in, so he wouldn’t grow too warm.

  “This is nice, though,” Catherine said, taking in the quiet room. A few tables, a jukebox, the long bar and a temporary stage pretty much made up the place.

  Zach caught Amy and Moe sharing a proud look.

  “It’s like a nightclub and pub mixed together.” Catherine was rubbing her crossed arms like she was cold, but Zach wondered if it was something else. Something about being in the bar.

  “Can I get you anything?” Moe asked. “The kitchen is still closed and I can’t serve alcohol, but soda or a
water?”

  “Water would be lovely, thanks,” Catherine said, after which Zach offered Moe the two separate price quotes Catherine had whipped up on the computer.

  She already had an amazing system, with nicely labeled folders, and it made him wonder how they’d gotten by without her.

  Well, they hadn’t really. Which explained why his savings had dipped so low and how his pension felt like it shrank every month. At least now money would be coming in reliably, covering their costs and more.

  He couldn’t believe he and Logan had let it ride for so long. They were lucky to still be in business.

  “Catherine did up two options for you.” He smiled at the pride he heard in his own voice. Dang, but wasn’t he a lucky man? Had he already thought that today? How about this hour? Because he was. Truly was.

  Moe pulled the sheet toward him and gave it a glance, elbows resting on the bar’s surface. “Which would you recommend?”

  Zach spun the sheet so he could read the bottom number. The price difference was negligible, but he knew Moe and Amy were being careful with their money, seeing as they had a baby on the way. Something Zach understood. Having Xavier in the house had changed a few of his financial priorities, too, and oddly enough, he no longer seemed to find the urge to max out his credit card during late-night online shopping sprees. Although he had developed an inexplicable urge to buy the kid everything he could possibly want.

  He needed to be wise with his money, as Catherine had suggested. It wasn’t just him now. He couldn’t simply list the house if times got tight, and take some high-paying, dangerous job to fill his bank account again.

  “Option two makes it easier to expand your network later down the line, and will allow for heavier streaming,” Zach said. “However, unless Blueberry Springs suddenly improves their infrastructure, you’re not that likely to find yourself needing that in the next few years. Plus, you can always come back and expand what you set up with option one.”

  They discussed a few more details while Catherine and Amy chatted about babies and pregnancy.

  Decision made, Moe filled in Amy, who agreed with his choice.

  Moe turned to Catherine. “I heard you’re doing the books for Zach and Logan.”

  “I am,” she said.

  “She’s doing a great job,” Zach stated, even though it wasn’t necessary.

  “Are you looking for more work?” Moe asked. “We could use some help keeping the bar’s accounts straight and on track. Just a few hours here and there.”

  Catherine opened her mouth and glanced around the pub, her mind obviously whirling. Zach didn’t know much about her past, but the dark look that shadowed her gaze told him before she said so that despite this being a decent job working for good people, her answer was going to be no.

  Catherine had hesitated for a few beats too long. She could feel the way Zach had noted that, tucking the fact away to use as a hint to try to crack into her past. He was like that. Silently aware. All the time.

  She loved it.

  Except for when she didn’t.

  “I could use more work,” she said carefully. “However, I don’t think I’m equipped to do the books for something as large as a nightclub.” Had her voice tightened when she’d said the word nightclub? She didn’t think so, but her throat had definitely seized up a little. “But thank you for thinking of me.”

  “You sure?” Moe asked. “The job’s yours—as much of it as you want.” Beside him, Amy nodded.

  “That’s very kind.”

  “It’s not beyond your reach,” Zach said. His voice was soft, coaxing.

  Confidence wasn’t the issue. In fact, she was quite confident. Confident she could not work in another nightclub, even if it seemed warm, cozy and friendly.

  “No, thank you,” she said, wincing at the sharpness of her reply. “I’m not ready for something like this.” And she wasn’t. She was scared she’d land herself in the same old predicament as last time.

  “We could send you to the city for training,” Zach offered. Moe and Amy shared a small shrug, wordlessly agreeing.

  “And what would I do with Xavier?” She fussed with one of his booties. “The whole idea is for me to be able to work around his schedule.”

  Moe and Amy had eased away, no doubt aware that this was quickly becoming a fight. Their first fight as a couple.

  Were they a couple?

  As flatmates, then? Because they were not a couple. There wasn’t even any attraction there. Other than the purely physical kind, which counted for nothing but a boatload of trouble. And the banter and jokes they had? Good friends had that. Flatmates, too.

  “You’re right. It’s too much,” Zach said casually, sending Catherine mentally off balance. He was pulling back from the verbal tussle as if he’d already been knocked out.

  She turned away, unsure how to react to what had felt like an unintended dig.

  So was that it? Fight over? What was his long game?

  As she pondered their fight, a cowboy came in and sat down at the other end of the bar. He was wearing a hat and boots, and looked like he may have ridden up on a horse.

  “Can I get a whiskey yet?” he asked Moe.

  “Nope,” he replied.

  “Aw, man,” muttered the cowboy. “We’re still before hours?”

  “We are, Cole.”

  The man spun away from the bar, pausing as though debating whether to stick it out until opening or not. He spotted Catherine and winked.

  She turned back to Zach and Xavier.

  At least it looked as though Moe was a stickler when it came to obeying local serving laws. Catherine liked that. But just because he didn’t serve outside the permitted hours didn’t mean he wouldn’t shift money around under the table or avoid paying his taxes.

  “And doing the accounting here isn’t ‘too much’ for me to handle if I wanted to,” Catherine said to Zach, unable to resist taking up the argument again.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.” She sat a little straighter, her eyes locked on the bottles of liquor lined up against a mirror on the opposite wall. Her gaze was resolute, her cheeks hot. She caught Zach’s eye and this time refused to be the first to look away.

  “It’s not too much for you,” he repeated simply, opening his clasped hands.

  “It’s not!” She spun to face him instead of his reflection.

  “Okay.” He wasn’t nearly as insistent as she was, and it was making her flustered. He’d thrown her off and gotten under her skin.

  “Can you guys help us out over here when you’ve finished your lovers’ spat?” Moe called.

  Zach tipped his chin upward, acknowledging Moe. He said to Catherine, “So we agree that it’s not too much.”

  He calmly slid off his stool, hand extended to help Catherine off her own. She refused his assistance.

  “It’s not too much at all,” she said, tossing her ponytail behind her as she flounced toward the makeshift stage over by the jukebox.

  She heard Zach mutter, “I do love a sassy woman.”

  She fought the urge to turn and stick out her tongue. Knowing Zach, he might take it as an invitation to do something that would make her body throb and her head grow light.

  Wait…if they were in agreement…had she just inadvertently agreed to something? Such as the nightclub’s accounting? He’d turned that whole argument around on her. She put her hands on her hips and spun to face Zach, causing him to bump into her. His hands slipped around her waist, bracing her against him. He felt good. Too good.

  “You don’t get to mess with my mind, you hear me?”

  “I do.”

  “Which is it? You do get to mess with my mind, or you do hear me?”

  He was watching her with a sincere, forthright gaze that made her anger dissolve. He didn’t know why she feared working the books here in the bar; he only saw what she’d done to fix his. He believed in her. Didn’t understand her, but was cool about it all just the same. It made her want to roll up
onto her tiptoes and kiss him.

  Oh, she was a mess, wasn’t she? She turned to Moe and Amy, disentangling herself from Zach. “What do you need?” she asked.

  “We want to test the karaoke system.”

  “Lovely.” Catherine stepped to the stage and took the microphone.

  “That’s not too much?” Zach teased. “To sing?”

  She glowered at him, silently telling him to watch it. “How about a duet?” she asked sweetly, a challenge weighting her words.

  “Would love to.” Zach hopped onto the stage with ease. “Got a second microphone?”

  Moe shook his head. “One thing at a time, pal.”

  Cole spoke up, pushing back his cowboy hat. “That gal at the town office…”

  “Nicola?” Moe suggested.

  “Yeah, that’s the one. She said the second microphone will be here in time for tomorrow night’s turkey sing-off, or whatever she called it.”

  “She comes up with the best ideas,” Amy said, her head bent as she adjusted a few knobs on the sound system. “I wish she was still working full-time.”

  “If this is a turkey sing-off, does that mean we’re the turkeys?” Catherine asked Zach. “Because if so, I’m going to win. It’s a Team Waffles thing.”

  “You brought me up here, Pancake.”

  “Not a pancake. I’m a waffle.”

  “I thought you were a turkey.”

  “You could have said no to the challenge.” She gave him a slow scan from his toes to his nose, implying that if he’d done so he’d be lacking as a man.

  “I could have.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “Maybe I’m not all that smart.”

  “Best singer wins a turkey for Thanksgiving dinner,” called Cole. He had that perfect twang you heard in the movies.

  “A live one?” Catherine asked. “Heaven help me, please say no.”

  “No.”

  She pretended to wipe sweat from her brow. Although, if Zach continued to stand so close, she might just start sweating. There was something about having him so near that made her very aware of how manly he was from the heat radiating off him to the way his aftershave smelled.