“I guess Mr. Randall is still considering selling the plant. Only time will tell.” Joe shrugged. “I guess I should go. See you all Saturday, if not sooner. Gracie, good idea on this block party.”
“Thanks, Joe.” Gracie turned back to Josh. “And you’re right, I’m definitely not an electrician. Patrick must be around the corner.”
They walked together and found Patrick on the far side of the house pulling ivy out of the eaves. Gracie watched him, smiling as he worked. She admired him. He was good, kind and decent. That was all she felt, she told herself—admiration.
He was her boss. She couldn’t fall in love, not now, not like this, with Patrick. A man who might or might not stay in Bygones. A man who was honest about not wanting a relationship. Her heart couldn’t take any more. It had been trampled on by Trent. She’d trusted him and believed they would get married, have children and love each other forever.
Maybe her heart was the one who couldn’t be trusted? It didn’t seem to know right from wrong.
“There he is.” She made the unnecessary comment and walked away, leaving Josh to talk to Patrick.
Leaving because she really had to get a grip and stop staring up at the man on the ladder with the perspiration-dampened shirt and dark hair glistening in the soft sunlight of early evening.
Patrick watched Gracie walk away and he wondered what had put that frown on her face. He hated the distance between them that had been growing for the past few days. It was his own doing. He’d kissed her. She was his employee. He felt the ladder shake and he looked down. Josh Smith’s hand reached to steady it.
For a grown man, he sure knew how to walk into some messes. He had spent the better part of his life staying unattached and avoiding drama. He’d seen enough of it in his parents’ marriage over the years. Constant turmoil had reigned in the Fogerty home during his growing-up years. He loved his folks but they hadn’t known how to have a marriage.
“You coming down?” Josh called up to him.
“Yeah, sorry.” He averted his gaze from the retreating back of Gracie Wilson. She didn’t do drama. He knew that about her.
“What’s up with Gracie?” Josh asked as Patrick landed on the ground next to him.
“I think there’s a lot going on.”
“Yeah, I guess there is. I saw the real-estate sign on a portion of her family land. That can’t be easy.” Josh walked with Patrick. “And the wedding thing. Do you think they’ll eventually work it out?”
“I don’t think so.” He had wondered the same thing for a while, so he knew there had to be other people in town wondering if it had been a case of cold feet. He looked for Gracie as he and Josh walked. She’d moved to a new flower garden.
As he watched she pushed her hair back from her face and swiped her brow with the back of her gloved hand. She’d work all night if they let her. He smiled and looked away, only to find Josh watching him.
“She’s lived a lot of life in twenty-five years,” Josh offered.
“She’s still young.” Patrick had tried to avoid that thought, the age difference between them. He had tried to avoid a lot, actually. Like his overwhelming need to talk to her.
Josh laughed so loud several people turned to stare. Patrick shot him a look and walked away. Unfortunately, Josh followed.
“Patrick, seriously, man, you have to give up the
island-unto-yourself routine.”
“The what?” Patrick shook his head and picked up the sprayer of weed killer.
“You’re an island. You came to this town thinking you’d start your little business and have a quiet little life in a small town. There’s no such thing. Small towns are all community. And that equals people in your business.”
“Great. That should have been on the information sheet when we signed up for this.”
“Come on. You and I have talked. You know this is what you wanted. Maybe you’ll get a piece of land and settle down here. You’ll get married, have a couple of kids.”
“Maybe so. And you’re not going to stay?”
Josh shrugged off the question. “I don’t know yet. Back to the problem at hand. I have some electrical problems in my back room.”
“I thought we’d already solved that with the new lights.”
“No, I think there’s a bigger issue. I thought maybe you could give me a hand.”
“I can. I’ll trade you out. I’m trying to put together a website for my rocking chairs. I thought I’d add pages on the new businesses in town.”
“I can help you with that. And more. If it’s on the web, you want people to find it when they do searches.”
“Yeah, I guess. That’s where I’m lost.”
“And I’m not.”
“Why’d you come here, Josh?” Patrick had wondered more than a few times about his new friend who seemed to be stepping down a few notches to take up making coffee. “You could obviously work anywhere and not have to worry about creating a successful business.”
“I needed a break from the rush of life. You know, I think we’ve both been there. You get busy and all of a sudden you realize your friends are married and settling down with families. You’re still working fifteen hours a day with no social life.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s where I was.”
“So, now we’re here. Life is quiet. There’s time for relationships and socializing.”
“Yes, there is time.”
Josh looked in the direction of Gracie Wilson. Patrick didn’t look, not this time. She was young. She’d been in this town her entire life. She’d never traveled or seen much of the world.
Thanks to his mom, he’d been places and had experiences. She’d insisted. Thanks to those experiences, he knew where he wanted to be and what he wanted to do. Gracie Wilson seemed to still be searching for herself.
“I’ve got to run.” Josh looked at his watch. “I’ve got an order coming in. The delivery truck broke down and he’s running late.”
“Do you need help?”
“No, I’ve got it. Hang in there, Patrick. I really feel like things will take off and these stores will survive.”
“I hope they do.” Because if his store didn’t make it, he didn’t know where he’d go or what he’d do. And it wasn’t as if there were jobs in Bygones.
He waited until Josh left and he headed for Gracie, who was having a very long conversation with Opal Parker. The two were looking at a flower bed and Opal had knelt next to it, her hands motioning. Gracie joined the older lady, kneeling next to the jumble of weeds.
“Hi, ladies.” He walked up behind them. Gracie smiled up at him, her hand on the arm of the elderly Miss Opal.
“Patrick.” Gracie moved weeds to show bulbs that were covered with a thin layer of dirt, leaving the tops exposed.
“I was just showing Gracie my lovely prayer garden. Each of these bulbs represents a prayer answered.” She pointed to a climbing rosebush. “And my sweet husband planted that on our twenty-fifth anniversary.”
“Those are wonderful memories, Miss Opal.” Gracie leaned in close to the older woman. “I’ll take special care to cover those bulbs.”
“Thank you, dear. And I really appreciate all of you helping me this way.”
“I’m glad we could help, Miss Opal.” Patrick held out a hand to help the older woman to her feet.
She dusted her hands and hugged Gracie. “I’m going to go inside now. This air might not feel cool to you youngsters, but it chills me right to the bone. And Patrick Fogerty, you are a true gentleman.”
“Thank you, Miss Opal.” He offered her his arm and she took it and smiled back at Gracie.
After helping Miss Opal to her front door, Patrick found Gracie covering the prayer bulbs with straw that had been brought in for such projects. She tamped it down and straightened, pla
cing her hands on the small of her back.
“She’s quite a lady.” He shoved his hands in his pockets to resist the temptation to put an arm around Gracie, who shivered a little as the breeze picked up. “And she’s right about the cool air. I didn’t notice it ten minutes ago.”
“I’m ready for a cup of coffee and to call it a day.” She looked west at the setting sun. “Not much more we can do now.”
“I would invite myself over for a cup of coffee, but I think we’re avoiding giving the impression that people have something to talk about.”
Gracie shrugged it off. “I’m kind of beyond caring what people say. Once you’ve been the Bygones Runaway Bride, what more is there to talk about?”
“I think you might have a point.”
“I have lunch meat that isn’t sour and bread that isn’t green,” she offered, and they both laughed at the memory of his not-so-long-ago offer.
“Sounds…appetizing?”
“You can put chips on your sandwich. That makes everything better.”
Thirty minutes later, he agreed. He’d never had chips on a bologna sandwich, but it did make it better. From across the table, Gracie pushed the bag of chips his way.
“More?” she offered.
He shook his head. “I think I’m good.”
Relaxed. He sat back in the chair that hadn’t been made for a man his size. It was a miniature designed for a small dining room. He felt like a giant in this tiny house, sitting across from five-foot-tall Gracie.
He’d been a man of faith since his early teen years, but here in Bygones he was learning more about himself and his faith. He was learning that sometimes a person had to relax and trust that the God who created the world could handle everyday problems. He’d learned that sometimes a person had to make a tough choice and pray for the best.
Sitting across from Gracie, he learned that it was good to take time to enjoy the simple things in life. Simple meaning bologna sandwiches and chips. Simple meaning a quiet evening sitting with a woman who loved life.
“What was it like growing up in Michigan?” She wiped her hands on a napkin and tossed it, with her paper plate, into the trash.
“Busy.” He knew she wanted more than that. “I grew up in an affluent neighborhood. My family business had prospered for years and my parents enjoyed that prosperity. My mother enjoyed it more than my father. He worked long hours and we went on vacations without him.”
His father had cheated on Patrick’s mother. For years. He didn’t want to think about that part of his life, his story. He had loved his dad and he’d respected him. It had hurt to find out about the woman he’d had a relationship with. It had hurt because she attended his father’s funeral, robbing Patrick’s mother of her time to grieve and instead turning grief into anger and bitterness.
“Patrick?” Gracie reached across the table, resting her hand on his. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
He shook his head to clear his thoughts and somehow found himself brushing his thumb across her fingers, studying the pale pink of her nail polish and the soft silkiness of her skin. This was how a man fell.
But what did he do once he fell? He didn’t want to be the next man to break Gracie Wilson’s heart.
“I should go.”
“Should you?” Her eyes narrowed. She pulled her hand back from his. “Maybe you should.”
They stood at the same time, the action putting them front and center into each other’s space. Patrick touched Gracie’s face, running his fingers down her cheek. Her breathing stilled.
Yes, he should go. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded, and as he walked to the door, she remained in the spot he’d left her. He couldn’t remember any other moment in his life that made him want to stay with a woman more than that one.
And that woman, just weeks ago, had planned on marrying another man. Life didn’t move that fast, did it?
Chapter Fourteen
Friday, the day before the block party, Gracie was still trying to make sure all of the loose ends were tied up. This had to work. For the sake of the business owners and her town, this block party needed to bring in new customers, the people who generally drove to larger towns and bypassed their own small town.
“Stop worrying.” Coraline had been looking at stencils for a room she was painting. “My goodness, Gracie, you’d think someone was about to give birth.”
Gracie smiled at that. “It feels a little like birth. This event is important to the stores.”
“I know it is, but you have to trust God in this. It’s going to be what it’s going to be and there’s no changing that.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right.” Gracie saw a flash of dark blue and looked out the window. “What’s he doing in town?”
Coraline turned to look out the window. “Land sakes, that man is like a bad penny.”
“I think I’m going to turn the sign to Closed and head home.” She looked at the clock above the counter. “It’s time and I’m not going to stick around to see if he’s coming in the store.”
“Where’s Patrick?” Coraline asked as she headed for the front door. “I’ll get these stencils tomorrow. Put them on the counter with my name on them.”
“I will. And Patrick took Rufus to the vet for shots.”
“He was here when the workshop started, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.” Gracie had to wonder where the conversation was going but she didn’t want to ask.
“The women do love that man. I think because he fits that ‘tall, dark and handsome’ thing to a T. And my goodness, the look in your eyes when they flirt.”
“Miss Coraline!” Gracie gasped and then put palms to her heated cheeks.
“Oh, Gracie, you look pretty when you blush.” Miss Coraline leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Do not let Trent bother you. He was a picture of perfect righteous indignation standing in the front of the church waiting for you. He simply couldn’t believe you’d leave him at the altar. He thought he was too good for you, Gracie, and that you should adore him for marrying you. He isn’t nearly good enough for you.”
“Thank you.” Gracie felt the heat climb into her cheeks again.
“See you tomorrow, honey.”
Gracie locked the door after Coraline left and she hurried back to close out and lock up the register. She saw Trent drive past again. Maybe he would leave town before she went out to get into her truck.
Her plan to escape unraveled. She cranked and cranked but her old truck wouldn’t start. She sat for a minute, giving it time to rest. It still wouldn’t start. Her only option was to walk home. Instead she hurried back into the store.
She was sitting in the store room when the back door opened. She looked up, smiling, expecting Patrick. Trent walked in, looking smug and not as handsome as she’d once thought.
“What are you doing in here?” She reached into her purse for her phone.
“I wanted to thank you for ruining my life.”
“I ruined your life? How is that, Trent?”
“Because my parents know why you didn’t go through with the wedding and they blame me.”
“Oh, and you were blameless? Trent, I have let everyone in this town talk about me. The stories range from my having an affair with Patrick Fogerty to my being fickle and not knowing what I want. Some people think I have cold feet and we’ll get back together. You are the victim in all of the stories. So how has this ruined your life?”
“Because you made me look like a fool.”
“You’re the one who cheated on me. I kept it to myself, thinking I could get past it and that I’d trust you again. But then she texted you and I knew that marriage to you would be a mistake.”
“We could have worked it out.”
“If I loved y
ou, really loved you, maybe I would want to work it out. Maybe I did love you in the beginning, but love isn’t something you abuse, Trent. It isn’t something you take advantage of. I hadn’t realized it until recently, but I fell out of love with you a long time ago.”
The back door creaked open. Gracie’s heart raced and she froze. Patrick walked through the door. He looked at her, a long look that she didn’t want to interpret because it might hurt. He turned his attention to Trent Morgan.
“You can leave my store.” Patrick stood a good six inches taller than Trent. Gracie watched as her ex-fiancé exited the building and then she slumped in the chair.
When she looked up, Patrick was leaning against the worktable watching her. She saw what she hadn’t wanted to see in his eyes, sympathy.
“I should go home.”
“He cheated on you, and you let people think that you had cold feet? Why would you do that?”
She shrugged it off. “I really don’t know. And what’s more embarrassing—cold feet or the fact that he didn’t even wait until we were married to cheat?”
“You deserve better.” Patrick handed her the purse she’d left on the worktable.
“Thank you. I like to think I do. But so far…”
“So far?” He opened the door for her.
“So far I’ve got a horrible record in the romance department. And really, this isn’t a conversation I want to have with you.”
“I see. But you should know that I understand. I think the last woman I dated thought I was having an affair, but the only one I saw more than her was the store I was trying to save.”
“We do what we have to do, Patrick.” She looked away for a brief moment. “My truck won’t start.”
“Let me give you a ride.”
“I don’t mind walking.”
He opened his truck door and motioned her in.
“Let me give you a ride.”
She nodded and climbed in ahead of him, scooting to the passenger side and buckling her seat belt.
“Thank you for coming to my rescue, again. It’s becoming a habit.”
“I don’t mind.” He started the truck and pulled onto the road. “So, you’re not going to work things out with Trent?”
The Boss's Bride (The Heart of Main Street) Page 15