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The Boss's Bride (The Heart of Main Street)

Page 7

by Minton, Brenda


  Waiting and wondering if he was really in a meeting or if he was with the pretty secretary she’d caught him with. She sighed, because not marrying him had been the right thing to do. Someday she’d find someone to love her. Someone who wouldn’t let her down. Someone who would let her be herself, not try to change her into his ideal wife.

  She was Gracie Wilson, farm girl, hardware-store employee and a person with faith to get her through hard times. She belonged in this town, with people who accepted her for who she was.

  An image flashed through her mind of Patrick Fogerty. He accepted her for herself.

  Chapter Six

  Workshops for Women. Patrick had approved this idea, so he’d deal with the fallout. There were a half-dozen women in his store. His employee seemed to be their fearless leader and the person responsible for a renewed interest in his bachelor status.

  Gracie Wilson. She moved through the group, showing them how to sand an old cabinet and then apply a coat of stain. At the next meeting she would work with them on step two.

  She looked his way and smiled. He started to turn but instead he smiled back. She’d been quiet since the day of the impromptu meeting at the Cozy Cup Café. Today she’d come to work with circles under her eyes, as if she hadn’t been sleeping. If a person needed a smile, a friend, it was Gracie. As much as she seemed to surround herself with people, she also seemed to be alone much of the time.

  He understood loneliness.

  He poured himself a cup of coffee and pulled out an order form for a company that supplied the wood he used for the rocking chairs that seemed to be a big hit with locals and curiosity shoppers who were wandering into town. It was a long shot, but maybe he’d keep the store going with rocking chairs and handyman jobs.

  It hadn’t worked for his family business. But here, where there were no big discount stores, maybe, just maybe, he’d make it. Maybe someday he’d be a local. He liked that idea. He liked the idea of living, not just making a living.

  He guessed it had something to do with his dad, losing him to a heart attack in the store he’d given so much of his life to. In the end his dad had been alone, aside from Patrick, because he’d always put the store first.

  The front door chimed. He moved through the store, thankful for the distraction of a customer. As he walked he did a quick survey of stocked shelves, stopping to rearrange tools that had gotten moved out of order by an earlier customer.

  He smiled at Ann Mars with her topsy-turvy bun and her stooped walk that made her appear even smaller than her barely five feet. She smiled up at him. He loved that she always wore that smile. He didn’t doubt for a minute that she’d had her share of hard times but also didn’t doubt that smile was genuine.

  “Patrick Fogerty, you are a sight for sore eyes.”

  “Am I really?”

  “Of course you are. I have a lightbulb that needs to be replaced and I thought, since you’re such a tall drink of water, that you might come over to my shop and replace it for me.”

  He glanced back at Gracie. She was showing a woman that he knew from church—single, of course—how to brush stain across a cabinet door. The woman glanced his way and then whispered something to

  Gracie. Gracie smiled a little but she didn’t look at him.

  Ann Mars cleared her throat.

  “Let me tell Gracie where I’m going.” He tried not to think about the pile of work in the back room or the stocking he needed to do out front. People first.

  A new life and a new outlook.

  “You go right ahead. I want to look at these flags you’ve got in stock.”

  Gracie glanced his way, her dark eyes shifting from him to her student and then back. She stepped away from the group of women. “Problem?”

  “I’m going to change a lightbulb for Miss Ann. Will you be okay for a few minutes?”

  She laughed just a little. “A few minutes? Do you really think you’ll get away without visiting her for a little while?”

  “I’m going to try. Maybe if I promise to sit down and have coffee with her in a day or two?”

  “I’m sure she’d love that.” She glanced back at the group. “I think several people would like to have coffee with you.”

  “Gracie, I’m really not interested.” The words came out sharper than he intended and her eyes widened. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Go help Miss Ann. I’ll be fine here.”

  The walk to the This ’N’ That took less than three minutes. He entered the dark, stuffy interior of Ann Mars’s store. A cat ran past him. A cat in the store? He watched it head behind the counter and then heard the telltale sound of scratching in sand.

  “Here we go.” She pointed to a light above the door that led to the big back room of the store, which was also crowded with used merchandise, shelves, stacks of boxes and who knew what else.

  Patrick saw a ladder leaning against a nearby wall. He pulled it out and opened it. As he went up the ladder, Ann held up a bulb.

  “Thanks.” He grinned down at her.

  “You’re very welcome. By the way, I heard what you’re doing for Merva Duncan and that’s real nice of you kids. I wonder, do you think maybe you could do something for Opal Parker?”

  Opal. He remembered her from church. An older woman who always wore gloves and a hat to Sunday services. “I think we probably could.”

  Ann clasped her hands together and smiled. “Oh, that would be wonderful. She’s a sweet woman and she tries to keep her place up, but she’s getting up in years and it isn’t easy for the old gal to get things done.”

  Old gal? He thought Opal Parker had to be ten years younger than Ann Mars. He swallowed his grin and finished changing the lightbulb. Ann handed up the light fixture and he screwed it into place.

  “All done.” He started down the ladder.

  Ann flipped the switch and the light came on.

  “I saw the light,” she sang out, then chuckled and smiled up at him. “You are a true gentleman, Patrick. Now, I want to give you some money to help pay for paint. And for flags. I’d like for the folks in town to have flags for their porches.”

  “Miss Ann, you don’t have to.”

  “I want to. We’re all in this together, Patrick.”

  “I know we are.” He tossed the old bulb into the trash.

  “I’ll bring you a check later.” She walked with him to the front door. “Patrick, why isn’t a good-looking man like yourself married?”

  “I’ve always been too busy working, Miss Ann.”

  “Too busy for love? Posh. Who’s too busy for love?”

  He smiled down at Ann but he wouldn’t allow himself to get sucked in, telling her the bits of personal information she and Coraline Connolly seemed to always be digging for. What would he tell them? He’d been busy working, trying to save a family business, and the woman he’d been dating found that a friend of his had more time for her?

  His mistake, not hers. He hadn’t blamed Geena for wanting someone who could spend time with her.

  “I’ll see you later, Miss Ann. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.” He ignored her disappointed look.

  “Secrets, Patrick?” She stood on the sidewalk and called out to him. “There’s nothing that makes me more curious than a man with secrets.”

  He waved as he walked back to his store.

  The first Workshop for Women had ended and Gracie felt pretty sure it had been a success. She walked with a few of the women as they made their way out of the store with their new purchases. One of the ladies stopped to admire the rocking chairs that Patrick made.

  She watched as her boss headed her way from the This ’N’ That. Ann Mars remained on the sidewalk in front of her store, hands on her hips. Gracie smiled and waved at the older woman, who waved back.
She doubted the visit had been all about a lightbulb.

  She knew the women in this town and how they kept themselves in the middle of everything going on. Patrick was handsome, single and a good Christian. He was a catch.

  She wasn’t interested in catching another man anytime soon. Her gaze strayed to her boss again. But if a woman was going to catch a man, he might as well look like Patrick Fogerty with his broad shoulders and easy smile.

  “Introduce me, Gracie.” Phyllis Glassner hadn’t left. She’d been pretending to look at the plants and now she stood next to Gracie, a bright yellow potted mum in her hands.

  “I thought you were dating Johnny Fuller?” Gracie headed for the door. Phyllis followed.

  “I was. He’s signed up to join the army and said he isn’t interested in dating right now, not when he doesn’t know where he’s going or how long he’s going to be gone. And your brother Daniel says he’s too busy to date. There isn’t much else in this town. Good single men are in as much demand as customers for these stores.”

  Daniel. Gracie’s thoughts rested on her brother. She didn’t know what he was up to these days. He worked hard on the farm and at the granary. And then he worked hard on the computer. He said he was taking online classes. She didn’t doubt him, but she also didn’t know what kind of classes he was taking, and he wasn’t telling.

  She walked down the aisle of the store to the register. Patrick had entered the store and he straightened a few shelves as he made his way to the back.

  Phyllis had followed her to the register with the mum still in her arms. She shot Gracie a pleading look that made her want to groan. Phyllis was the last person she wanted to fix her boss up with. Because… Gracie couldn’t think of a good reason. Phyllis was as sweet as she was pretty with her halo of honey-blond hair. She taught Sunday school and raised sheep.

  Gracie lifted her gaze again, barely glancing at Patrick before ducking her head to ring up the mums for Phyllis.

  “Anything exciting happen while I was gone?” Patrick walked behind the counter. His arm brushed hers.

  Gracie swallowed and looked not at Patrick but at Phyllis.

  “No, nothing exciting. Patrick, this is my friend Phyllis.”

  Patrick held out his hand. “Phyllis, nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too. I wanted to let you know we’re having a potluck and movie night next Friday at the church. We’d love to have you join us.”

  “I might do that.” He smiled but then looked down at Gracie. “I need to get an order filled. If you don’t need any help up here, I’ll be in the back.”

  She barely had time to respond as he walked away, rounding the counter and heading to the back of the store. Gracie handed Phyllis her change and smiled at the other woman, who wore a disappointed look.

  “Well, he’s as hard to get to know as they say he is.”

  “Oh, he really isn’t. I think he’s just preoccupied. I know he loves brownies, Phyllis.”

  Phyllis smiled again, her face lighting up and her light gray eyes flashing. “Brownies. Thank you, Gracie!”

  Gracie managed a smile. As Phyllis walked away she let out the sigh she’d been holding back. She wasn’t a matchmaker. Or the Advice for the Lovelorn columnist.

  People shouldn’t ask her to help them out in the romance department and she shouldn’t be giving anyone advice. She’d royally messed up her own life.

  She rested her elbows on the counter and covered her face with her hands. One of these days people would stop asking why she’d walked out on the most eligible bachelor in the county. People would stop gossiping.

  In a small town, there would be another scandal. Someday.

  A hand touched her shoulder. She jumped a little and looked up. Patrick handed her a glass of iced tea.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded and sipped the tea. “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “You don’t look good.” He grinned and shook his head. “That didn’t come out right. You look great. Beautiful as… You know what I mean.”

  “I do. And I have a mirror. I know how bad I look.”

  “Do you need to take a day off?”

  “No, I want to take off. Maybe to a deserted island, one without my dad and brothers. One without the Bygones Gazette and hundreds of people who think they know the scoop about their own local Runaway Bride.” She frowned. “Is that too much information?”

  “Not at all. I think we all have days like that. Your last couple of weeks have been one extreme to another.”

  “True. I was going to be married, and now I’m back at home with my dad and my brothers. And my brothers are a mess. They’re either trying to fix things for me, or they’re asking me to fix something for them. They’re helpless and I made them that way.”

  “I think they’re all old enough to take care of themselves.”

  “Yes, they are, aren’t they?” She looked at the Gazette that she’d been reading through that morning before the store opened. “And maybe it’s about time I let them take care of themselves?”

  “You aren’t going to leave Bygones, are you? Because I’m not sure I can survive this town without your help.”

  “You have Coraline and Ann.”

  “Very true, but they can’t sand cabinets, build bookcases or show a customer how to install a ceiling fan.” He had remained next to her, towering over her in his flannel shirt, close enough for her to detect the scent of pine and citrus. “And the other problem with Coraline and Ann is that they can’t imagine a guy being single and happy.”

  Gracie slid the paper in front of her, ignoring his happily-single comment that would crush the hearts of so many single women in Bygones. “I’m not leaving Bygones. I guess I’ll never leave.”

  “You know, marriage isn’t the only way to leave town.”

  “You’re right.” She looked over the paper again. “But I don’t want to leave. I think it is time I get my own place.”

  A place of her own. She had thought about it a lot over the past week. A place she decorated herself with food she picked for herself. She could eat frozen dinners every night if she wanted. She could date without her brothers standing guard, questioning anyone who came to pick her up.

  The front door chimed and Ann Mars made her way through the store for the second time that day. She looked at the two of them, her eyes narrowing as she studied them.

  “Patrick. Gracie. I thought you had a store full of customers.”

  “It’s the afternoon lull,” Patrick explained as he walked out from behind the counter. “Do you need something else, Miss Ann?”

  “No, not at all. I was just bored and thought I’d make my rounds and bring you that check. What’s that serious look for, Gracie?”

  Gracie looked up from the paper and managed a half smile for the older woman. “I’m thinking about getting a place of my own.”

  “Well, I think that’s a wonderful idea. Do you have a place in mind?”

  “No, I was just going to look through the Gazette. But there isn’t much in here.”

  “The most interesting thing in that issue of the Gazette is the story of the Bygones Runaway Bride.” Ann cackled and her thin, gray brows arched. “Oh, that’s you, isn’t it?”

  “I guess it is.”

  “Well, honey, it just so happens I have a little one-bedroom house for rent.”

  Gracie perked up, her smile widening. “Really? Is it expensive?”

  “Can you mow a lawn, maybe help an old gal clean her house and do some other odd jobs?”

  “Of course I can.”

  “Then it’s yours for utilities. If you can just help out my sister Lottie, you’ve got a house.”

  “Oh, Ann, thank you.” Gracie left her place behind the counter to hug the woman that even she towered over.


  “You’re welcome, Gracie. I’m glad I finally found someone I can trust. Lottie isn’t as well as she used to be and she needs a little help from time to time.”

  “When can I move in?”

  “This weekend should be fine. It’s furnished. You’ll just need a few dishes and blankets.”

  Gracie had a place of her own. She would be twenty-five in a month and she was finally going to live in her own place. For a girl who had lived at home even while attending a nearby community college, this was a big deal.

  Ann Mars glanced out the window. “Well, what do you know, I have customers. I guess I’ll hurry on back to my store. Gracie, come by later and I’ll get your key.”

  “Thank you again, Miss Ann.”

  “You’re welcome, Gracie.” Ann Mars waved as she started toward the door. “Patrick, you owe me a cup of coffee.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Gracie smiled at her boss and then watched as the older woman hurried, at her own hurrying pace, out of the store and down the sidewalk. There were a few cars on Main Street. Gracie walked to the door and looked out, watching as several people hurried into the Cozy Cup Café. A woman walked out of the Fluff & Stuff carrying a little dog and a bag of merchandise. As she watched, an older gentleman stopped to sit in one of Patrick’s chairs.

  “Sometimes I think the town is going to survive.” She glanced back at Patrick. He walked through the store and joined her at the window.

  “I hope so. I know I’m not a local, but I’m pretty invested in the survival of this town, too.”

  “I would hate it if you…” She bit down on her lip and focused on the older man in the rocking chair. “It would be a shame to lose you and this store. And if the town makes it, we’ll be able to rehire the men the police force laid off. Not to mention the men my dad had to let go. My brothers aren’t all about running the granary.”

  “It’s hard taking over a family business.” Patrick stood next to her, a giant of a man with a quiet voice. “I have to admit I had times when I resented our family business. It took a lot of my dad’s time. And then it took a lot of mine.”

 

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