Hmm...maybe she should allow him to think she was one of those lucky people who could eat anything they wanted without gaining weight. Instead she said, “It’s my grandma’s secret ingredient.”
“Which is?”
“I can’t reveal it,” she said through another mouthful.
“Who am I going to tell? Seriously, do I look like I’m going to run out and open a competing bakery in Brookhollow?”
She studied him. “Maybe I should make you sign something.”
“Ha.” He rolled his eyes. “Funny lady.”
Leigh coughed on crumbs as she suppressed a laugh. “It’s protein powder.... Plus she uses a sugar substitute.” She pushed the basket at him.
He reached inside and took one. He hesitated, examining it. He sniffed it. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me these were healthy to eat before now,” he said through a mouthful.
“Excuse me, I hadn’t realized you were trying to keep your boyish physique.”
Now it was his turn to choke on his muffin. “Okay, let’s continue,” he managed to say.
“Ready.”
He remained silent behind her.
“What now? Time’s wasting.”
“I know, I just noticed how small your hands are. No wonder you type so slow. Can you even reach all the keys?”
Leigh glanced at him, eyebrow raised yet again. “Are we typing or not?”
“Sorry. Okay, so the first line of dialogue is, ‘Don’t go down there.’”
“Wait,” she interrupted.
“What?”
“Who’s saying this?”
“The detective.”
She frowned and pursed her lips.
“What?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. This was his book. “Nothing,” she said, typing in the dialogue.
Logan held a hand out to stop her. “No, really, what?” He frowned, studying the words on the page.
Leigh sighed. “Okay, it’s just that it doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t make sense?”
“That the detective would say, ‘Don’t go down there.’ It’s kind of like telling a child, ‘Don’t look in the cupboard for a cookie.’ Of course they’re going to do it now, even if they hadn’t planned to.”
“Exactly,” Logan said with a nod.
“You want the bad guy to go downstairs? But in the next scene, that doesn’t work in the detective’s favor.”
“Not in that scene, but eventually it will.” Logan reached for his notes and flipped ahead. “See, here.” He pointed to a scribbled paragraph, written diagonally across a length of cash register receipt.
“Is this from the grocery store?” Leigh picked it up and turned it over.
“Yes.” Logan took it from her and turned it back, scribbled side up. “See here, when the detective sneaks out of the basement through the door leading to the root cellar...”
“Where did the root cellar come from?” Leigh frowned.
“Chapter one—you didn’t read it.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Can we continue now? Me doing the writing—you typing?” Logan asked with amusement.
“Sure.”
His cell rang in his pocket and he stood, checking the caller ID. His expression darkened.
“If you have to answer that, go ahead. I think I can make out the rest...if I squint really hard.” But the light moment between them had disappeared.
“I’m sorry, it’s important,” he said as it rang again. Moving away, he answered the call.
Leigh watched his long, anxious strides as he paced the backyard. In the silence of the neighborhood, it was impossible not to hear his side of the conversation, despite the distance he put between them.
She felt a pang of guilt listening, but she couldn’t help it. She was curious about him. Really curious. Since their first night working together, she’d tried to resist the urge to look him up on the computer, but that afternoon she’d caved. Not that she’d learned anything about his personal life.
“Yes, of course I have time to speak to her.... Hi, sweetheart, you’re up late,” he said, glancing at his watch.
Sweetheart?
“How was school today?” she heard him ask.
It sounded as though he was talking to a child. His?
“Give them time, they’ll come around. You’re the coolest kid I know.”
The concern in his voice touched her.
“That’s great. I can’t wait to see it.... I know, I miss you, too...just another couple of weeks....”
Couple of weeks for what? Man, she had to stop eavesdropping. His call was none of her business.
“Okay, be good for your mom.... I love you.” He disconnected the call and Leigh watched as he stood there for a second longer. He turned back toward her and their eyes met momentarily, before she quickly returned hers to the laptop screen.
Logan climbed the few steps to the gazebo and sat back on the bench. “Sorry about that.”
“No problem.” Don’t ask questions. It was none of her business.
“Where did we leave off?”
“The detective is going downstairs,” Leigh said. Clearly, he wasn’t about to explain the call.
“Right.” Logan cleared his throat, then stood again. “That was my daughter.”
She fought to conceal her surprise. Never would she have pegged him for a father. How old was the girl? Did that mean he was married? Divorced? Where was she? Despite the insane curiosity mounting within her, she struggled to respect his privacy. “Really, Logan, that’s your business.”
Quietly, he rejoined her on the bench. “Okay, sorry, tell me again—where were we?”
“The detective’s going downstairs....” Leigh prodded, studying him. The little piece of himself he’d displayed in those few seconds had revealed a different side of the man she was getting to know.
A man she wanted to get to know even better.
CHAPTER THREE
“OKAY, GUYS, CLIMB IN.” Leigh opened the sliding side door of her minivan and hid a yawn as she helped the kids in. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been up so late on a weeknight. The progress was slow because of her inexpert typing and Logan’s inability to decipher his own writing, but he’d been happy with the work they’d been able to accomplish in five hours.
Despite her previous claim that scary books didn’t interest her, the more she read, the more engaged she was becoming. Enough so that she’d struggled with apprehension returning to her dark house alone just before midnight.
Unable to sleep, she’d stayed awake reading the first half of the first book in the series.
“Move all the way to the back, guys,” Leigh told the Myer twins as she got in to do up their seat belts. David and Joshua Myers, eight, had a PD day from school, and she’d volunteered to babysit for their mom. Melody Myers worked three jobs since the death of her husband several years before and rarely asked for help.
“Where are we going Miss Leigh?” four-year-old Isabel Miller asked.
Leigh only winked as she climbed through the seats and jumped down from the van.
They all stared at her, hopeful.
“It’s a surprise,” she said as she closed the sliding door.
“Where are you taking them?” The deep voice of the man behind her made her jump.
Her hand flew to her chest as she turned. “Logan, you startled me.”
“I’ll try to stop doing that.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“I saw your lights on last night. Thought you said the book wouldn’t get to you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.
“Yeah, well, I hadn’t expected you to be
such a good writer.” Her gaze met his. He was actually a very attractive man, especially when his features softened and he didn’t appear irritated at the world. His dark, wavy hair needed a trim and his week-old beard was scruffy, but she suspected he cleaned up quite nicely.
“I’ll accept that backhanded compliment,” he said, nodding toward the van. “Road trip?”
Leigh yawned. “Yes, if I can keep my eyes open. I haven’t been up that late in a while.” She lowered her voice and leaned in to say, “I’m taking the kids to the corn maze.” A faint musky cologne reached her nose. He smelled good.
“Corn maze?” His brow furrowed. “What’s that?”
“Shhhh....” She looked over her shoulder to make sure the kids hadn’t heard. “You’re kidding, right?” He’d never heard of a corn maze? When she was a child, the corn maze had been one of her favorite outings during harvest, whenever they were lucky enough to be in Brookhollow.
“No.”
“You really are a city boy, aren’t you?”
“Hardly ever venture past the skyscrapers. So, are you going to enlighten me or am I going to have to look it up for myself?”
“It’s a maze made of out cornstalks at the Monroe family farm.” She paused, wondering if she should invite him along. How would the kids’ parents react? He was still a stranger after all. After several nights working with him, she still didn’t know him very well. She still couldn’t believe he was a father.
Logan cleared his throat. “I can’t go,” he said, staring at the sidewalk.
Had she asked him? “Did I invite you?”
“No, but you were struggling with whether to or not.”
Her mouth opened.
“Part of my job as a writer is to observe human behavior,” he explained. “I could read your expression.”
“Oh. Well, you’re welcome to come along if you want,” she said, glancing at her watch. “But we should get going.” She walked around to the driver’s side and opened the door.
“I really can’t. I’m doing a school visit at Brookhollow High this morning.”
He was what?
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“Sorry, I just, um, you do surprise me, that’s all.”
“Good. So, gazebo at six?”
“Of course,” Leigh said as she closed the door. Feeling unexpectedly disappointed that he wasn’t going with them, she pulled the van away from the curb and turned onto Cedar Street, all of a sudden looking forward to six o’clock.
* * *
LOGAN SLID INTO a corner booth at Joey’s Diner on Main Street ten minutes later, wearing a satisfied smile. The fifties-style, family-owned-and-operated restaurant hadn’t changed one bit. A group of older men sat on red-and-white-striped bar stools at the counter drinking coffee and reading newspapers, and the booth in the corner was occupied by a group of women playing bridge. A young waitress leaned on her elbows on the counter chatting with an older woman, whom he recognized. He couldn’t remember her name, but he was great with faces. He searched her apron for a name tag as she wrapped cutlery in paper napkins. Tina. That’s right. She and her husband, Joey Miller, owned the place. Noticing him, she nodded at the young woman.
The girl, April by her name tag, stood and smiled as she approached. “Hi there. Coffee?” She held the steaming pot and turned over the white ceramic coffee cup on the table.
“Yes, please. Could I also get a menu?” The smell of bacon coming from the kitchen was making his mouth water. He wasn’t sure exactly what else he wanted, but definitely bacon.
“This must be your first time at Joey’s,” April said.
“No, but it’s been a while.”
She lifted his coffee cup and, picking up the paper place mat, full of advertisements, she turned it over. “There you go. We serve breakfast until eleven,” she said, pointing to the eclectic selection. “I’ll give you a few minutes to decide?”
“Yes, thank you.” Logan scanned the list. What he really wanted was more of those muffins from Ginger Snaps, but by the sign on the front door they weren’t open for business yet.
“So, where is Jonathan taking you for your anniversary tonight?” he heard Tina ask as she refilled ketchup bottles in a booth a few feet away.
April sighed. “The Haunted Hike at Monroe’s.” She rolled her eyes as she collected the empty salt and pepper shakers from the nearby tables.
“For your anniversary? That’s hardly romantic.... I thought you said tonight might be the night.”
The young woman shot a glance toward the men at the counter and placed her fingers to her lips. Nobody looked up. Logan quickly went back to perusing the menu. “Shh...maybe I was wrong. I’m starting to think he’s never going to ask. I mean, we’ve been together four years now....”
Logan set the menu aside. Bacon and eggs it was. He took a sip of his coffee.
“Ready to order?” his lovelorn waitress asked, coming back.
He pointed to the chalkboard menu near the door. “I’ll have your special—the bacon and eggs, hash browns and toast.”
She scribbled on her order pad. “White, whole wheat or multigrain?”
“White is fine, thanks,” he answered, quickly adding as she turned to go, “Um, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but what was it you mentioned about a haunted hike?”
Moving his coffee cup, she turned his place mat over yet again. She pointed to the small ad in the corner. “Monroe’s Haunted Hike tour. It’s at the family’s farm, just outside town—where the pumpkin patch is...and the Christmas-tree farm.... You have no idea where I’m talking about, do you?” she said, tucking her pen behind her ear.
“I’m not from around here.”
“Oh. Well, then where...?”
“California.”
In truth, he wasn’t actually from anywhere in particular. His birth certificate said he was born in Oakland, but since then he’d moved from one foster home to another in every city from Los Angeles to Fresno, until running away at fifteen and hitching rides out East.
“Are you here visiting family...or friends?” April asked.
The only family he had was Amelia and she was half a world away. His few friends were all back in the city. Moving around so much as a kid made developing lifelong friendships nearly impossible and besides most people only used you or let you down. “Nope. Just here to get some peace and quiet,” he offered when she remained silent.
She glanced at his hand. “Trying to take it easy while your hand heals?”
“Actually I broke my wrist here...in my quest for peace and quiet.”
“How did you manage to do that?” she asked, sitting on the bench on the other side of the booth.
Logan stared at her. By all means, sit down, why don’t you? In New York, it was understood that everybody was on a tight timeline. And that your business was your own. “I was...hanging a sign.”
Recognition crossed the woman’s face. “Aw, good for Leigh, she’s been talking about getting that sign put up for quite a while.”
He did a double take. “You know which sign I...?” Shaking his head, he added, “Well, it didn’t get hung.” He held up the cast.
“Let me guess, she was trying to use that rickety old ladder?” She turned. “Mom, how many times have we told Leigh to get rid of that ladder?”
Tina, behind the counter, waved a hand. “Too many.”
“Anyway, I hope her luck starts to change.”
“What do you mean? What’s wrong with her luck?” Might help explain why he’d found her hiding from the ex-husband’s new wife the other day.
April’s eyes widened and she scrambled out of the booth. “Oh, nothing, I’m just babbling. Anyway, the Monroe Farm is hard to miss, just go down Main Street—”
Logan held up his good hand. “Wh
oa, go back. What did you mean?”
She bit her lip and shifted from one foot to another under Logan’s insistent gaze. She sat back in the booth. “I really shouldn’t be talking about this.”
“That’s right, you shouldn’t,” her mother said, wiping a table nearby.
“I just meant that Leigh has had a rough few years...with her divorce.” April turned to her mother. “Mom, do you want to jump in here?”
Tina paused near the table and grabbed April’s order pad. “Nope, I’m not having Leigh angry at me. I’ll go place your order.” She clucked her tongue as she sauntered off to the kitchen.
The waitress toyed with the edge of the napkin. “You know, Mom’s right.”
Logan took the napkin from her and let the girl off the hook. “You know what, don’t say any more. If I want to know about Leigh, I’ll ask her.”
The night before, Leigh hadn’t questioned him about Amelia even though he suspected she’d been dying to know more. He needed to respect her privacy the way she’d respected his.
The door of the café chimed as a couple entered and waved to the men at the counter. “Be right with you guys,” April said, then turned back to Logan. “Monroe’s is straight down Main Street, and just as you pass the city limit sign heading onto the highway, you take the exit toward Pocomoke River. The farm is just a few miles south.” She paused. “You won’t be able to walk there, it’s too far, and I’m guessing driving must be tough with that cast. If you want, you can go with my boyfriend!”
He laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.” He couldn’t help but feel for the woman’s boyfriend, even though she was joking. Kendra had called him the world’s most unromantic and clueless man she’d ever known. It amazed him that their relationship had lasted as long as it did. “Have you been?” he asked.
“Yeah...our first date, actually. He thought it was a good idea then, too.” She scoffed. “I clung to him the entire time.” Her face softened a little at the memory.
“Could be why he’s taking you there tonight.”
She smiled. “Could be you’re right.”
Ha, maybe he did get romance sometimes.
* * *
THE ORANGE PUMPKIN patch sign at the entrance of the Monroe Farm was barely visible and the children in the back of the van had already started squealing.
Falling for Leigh Page 5