by Mia Ross
“Pretty, huh?” Ben asked as he passed by her to set a couple of flowerpots on a windowsill.
“Very.” Inhaling the mingled sweet scents of a variety of flowers, she added, “And it’s going to smell great besides. What are those?”
“Got me,” he replied with a shrug. “I’m a hammer-and-nails kinda guy.”
“Hyacinths,” Ann called out. “Spread them out a little more, Ben, or they’ll be too strong.”
“Gotcha.” Whistling “Here Comes Peter Cottontail,” he took one of the lilies Lauren was holding and switched it for one of the hyacinths. To her knowledge, Lauren had never met a man who still knew that song, and hearing it from such a rugged guy made her smile.
Since he had so many plants in his crate, Lauren gave him a hand spreading the daffodils around before they headed out for more. As they reloaded and went back in, she asked, “You’re pretty laid-back, aren’t you?”
“Yup.”
She hadn’t meant to turn this into an actual conversation, but she heard herself say, “Your life seems pretty hectic to me. How do you manage to be so easygoing?”
Setting the crate on a wooden bench between two windows, he gave her his full attention. “You said you’re not really into religion, so you might not like my answer.”
“I’ll keep an open mind.”
After hesitating for a moment, very quietly he said, “I do the best I can with what I get, and I leave the hard stuff up to God.”
Eloquent in its simplicity, the philosophy suited the solid, down-to-earth contractor perfectly. Unfortunately, Lauren couldn’t get her head around it, and she frowned. “That works for you?”
“Mostly. When it doesn’t, I know it’s ’cause the timing isn’t right for what I want. Eventually, everything ends up the way it’s supposed to be. We just have to be patient and trust that He knows what He’s doing.”
“I guess that’s why they call it faith,” Lauren commented thoughtfully, glancing around the light, airy space. It seemed ideally suited to their unexpected discussion, and she said, “It’s so inviting now, I can only imagine how it is when it’s full of people.”
“You don’t have to imagine it.” When she met his eyes, he gave her a gentle smile. “You could tag along with Julia tomorrow and see for yourself.”
It was so tempting, she longed to accept. Instead, she hedged. “I don’t know. Easter’s an important day, and I’m not sure it’s right to be here when I don’t worship the rest of the year. I’d feel like a hypocrite.”
“Like the sign out front says, everyone’s welcome. All you have to do is come inside.”
He made it sound so easy, but Lauren still wasn’t certain she belonged here. Or anywhere, for that matter. But gazing up into Ben’s warm, understanding eyes, she found herself wondering if she’d somehow staggered onto the path her life was meant to follow. It had led her to this delightful little town filled with friendly people who liked her instead of judging her.
Since she’d run out of reasons to say no, she relented with a smile. “I’ll think about it.”
While she helped finish the decorating, an unfamiliar sensation began circling around her, enveloping her in something she hadn’t felt in so long, it took her a while to identify the emotion. Finally, she realized what it was.
Contentment.
Instinct told her it was no coincidence that she’d begun to rediscover her old self after leaving Jeremy. More than that, the positive feeling reinforced her decision with a steely resolve that shocked her. Filled with luxuries most people only dreamed of, the glittering lifestyle he’d offered her had captivated her at first.
In the end, it came with a price higher than she was willing to pay. And she was never going back.
Chapter Four
Ben watched with curiosity as determination glinted in Lauren’s eyes. It muted the bright blue with something darker, and he made a mental note never to do anything that would earn him such a ferocious glare. He might be bigger than her, but he wasn’t too proud to admit that look scared him.
A woman scorned? he wondered while they continued arranging flowers throughout the sanctuary. For the life of him, he couldn’t picture a man appealing enough to catch her interest and stupid enough to let her walk away. Or run, he amended with a frown. You didn’t leave a huge, bustling city for the outskirts of Maine without a good reason. He didn’t know what had brought her here, but his gut told him it wasn’t a pretty story.
Her reluctance to get too close to him was an obvious hint, but he hated to think about where a clue like that led. It was none of his business anyway, he reminded himself as they wrapped up their floral job. She was Julia’s friend, which meant he’d be nice to her but keep a respectable distance. Anything other than that was a complication he didn’t need right now.
When he and Lauren met up with Ann in the vestibule, he said, “All set. Did you need anything else?”
“Me? No.” Her dark eyes went to Lauren, glimmering with fun. “But since she’s here, our guest needs a bonnet for the contest.”
“Bonnet contest?” Lauren echoed in a voice normally reserved for the cute blonde in a slasher movie. “What on earth is that?”
“For Easter bonnets,” Ann explained as if it was an everyday occurrence everyone should be familiar with. “Julia has so much on her mind these days, she must have forgotten to mention it to you. While the children are off hunting for their eggs, we award a prize for the prettiest ladies’ hat.”
Judging by the horrified look Lauren gave him, Ben suspected the long-standing tradition hadn’t slipped Julia’s mind. Knowing what Lauren’s reaction would be, she’d purposefully neglected to tell her friend about it. Smart lady.
Hoping to lighten the moment, Ben said, “There was one year it didn’t work that way, though. Eddie Wilkins won.”
“Oh, that was different,” Ann insisted, waving him off. “It’s not every day you see a hat with a working toy helicopter on top.”
“A helicopter? Are you serious?” Lauren started laughing. It was a bright, happy sound ideally suited to such a beautiful morning, and he was glad to be around to hear it. What would it take, he wondered, to coax it from her again?
“Yeah,” he answered with a grin. “It got away from him, though, and someone finally found it in a tree up in Turnberry.”
“Very clever,” Ann agreed, rubbing her hands together with enthusiasm. “But Lauren doesn’t need anything like that. I’ve got an old gardening hat in the choir room. I’ll get that while you two pick out some flowers to put on it.” Neither of them moved, and she shooed them with an impatient motion. “Off with you, now. We haven’t got all morning.”
She hustled off, and Ben turned to Lauren with a shrug. “Around here, she’s the boss.”
“What about Pastor McHenry?” she asked as they retraced their steps to pick a few blossoms from each display.
“She lets him think he is. I guess that’s why they’ve been married so long.”
“That’s how my parents are, too,” Lauren commented in a fond tone. “It seems to work for them.”
Talk of happy parents dimmed the sunny morning for him, and Ben regretted bringing up the subject. Fortunately, Ann reappeared with a broad-brimmed sun hat and saved him from himself.
“Here we are, dear,” she said cheerily, handing it to Lauren. With expert fingers, Ann took flowers from each of them, threading the blooms into the faded ribbon that circled the crown and tied the hat on. When she was finished, she held it up with an expectant look. “What do you think?”
Lauren slid him a dubious look, and Ben answered her unspoken question. “Pretty as a picture. Try it on.”
She nailed him with a glare that could have frozen the harbor over in July. But for Ann, she called up a good-sport smile and went along. Once she’d tied it in place, Ann fussed with the floral decorations a little and stepped back for a better look.
“Very nice,” she announced with a nod. “You young folks have cameras on your p
hones these days. Would you like me to take a picture for you?”
“I don’t have mine with me,” Lauren replied. “Sorry.”
Ben fished out his own and handed it to Ann. “Great idea. When you’re done, I’ll take one of you two.”
While Ann lined up the shot, under her breath Lauren hissed, “I’ll get you for this.”
Far from intimidated, he chuckled, which only seemed to make her madder.
“I mean it,” she assured him.
“I’m sure you do. You’re gonna be here awhile, so you’ll have plenty of chances.”
“Say cheese!”
After Ann snapped a couple more for good measure, Ben looked over Lauren’s shoulder at the results. Something about the way they looked together caught him by surprise, and it took him a few seconds to shake off the unexpected reaction. Hoping to sound casual, he smiled at Lauren. “That’s a keeper.”
Some of the ice in her eyes melted, and she tilted her head at him. “Me or the hat?”
“Both.”
Where had that come from? he wondered with a mental groan. He hadn’t meant to say it, but it jumped out of his foolish mouth all on its own. He’d have to be more careful around their intriguing guest, or he’d be blurting out all kinds of things he shouldn’t.
When they joined everyone out in the square, families were beginning to arrive. The adults greeted each other with hugs and handshakes, while the kids fidgeted in place, anxious for the hunt to start. Ann was in charge of the chaotic event, and when she stood on a chair and clapped her hands, the crowd settled down almost immediately.
The pastor’s wife wasn’t tall or intimidating in any way, and he’d always marveled at her ability to make people listen to her. He towered over her, but he didn’t have half the authority she did. How did you get that, anyway? Maybe one of these days he’d get up the courage to ask her.
“Good morning!” After the gathering returned her greeting, she skimmed the faces with a motherly smile. “I know you’re not here to listen to me ramble on, but there are a few rules for our Easter egg hunt. First, no grown-ups allowed. The children made these eggs, and they’ve earned the right to find them on their own. Second, the limit is six.” Pausing, she aimed a knowing look at several of the older children, who had the decency to squirm. “Third, have fun!”
With that, she threw up her hands, and the race was on. Any adult who didn’t want to be crushed by a horde of excited rug rats retreated under an old maple tree, where the bonnet contest was getting underway. Ben was astounded to see who this year’s judge was. “Nick McHenry?”
“Put your eyes back in your head,” Nick grumbled, his rigid smile doing nothing to mask his disgust. “Julia talked me into doing this.”
“I thought Cooper and Bree were the judges this year.”
“Mayor and Mrs. Landry had some mysterious last-minute thing this morning,” Nick replied in a voice loaded with sarcasm. “Bree called Julia, begging for her help with this nonsense. She knows I hate this town stuff, but she volunteered me anyway, so here I am.”
His old buddy was glowering like a troll who’d been dragged out from under his favorite bridge, and Ben couldn’t hold back a grin. “When did you get back?”
“Last night,” Nick replied with a yawn. “Every time I take a trip, my flights go haywire.”
At least you get to go, Ben thought enviously. It wasn’t like him to be that way, and he turned his attention to the pretty distraction standing beside him. “You two haven’t met yet. Nick McHenry, Lauren Foster.”
The fake smile softened into a real one, and Nick held out his hand. “It’s great to finally meet you. Thanks for coming to cover the store while we’re away.”
“I’m happy to do it,” she assured him. “Julia’s helping me out, too, so it works for everyone.”
The comment struck Ben oddly, and he wondered what she meant by it. It seemed the more time he spent with Lauren, the more curious he became about her. Although he made a point of steering clear of complicated women, he was pretty sure she was hiding something—but what? Since he wasn’t likely to find that answer anytime soon, he put it aside and scoped out this year’s selection of bonnets.
With her love of costumes, Amelia Landry had an extensive collection of extravagant hats. This one looked like it had come straight out of a 1920’s movie, except for the flocked rabbits and sheep she’d glued on. That she’d made a miniature version of it for the Pomeranian cradled in her arms was icing on the cake. The Bakery Sisters had gone Western, with matching cowgirl hats that had tiny horses circling the brims. There were plenty of others, from pretty to downright strange, but amid all the craziness, what stood out for him were Lauren’s changing expressions.
They went from bewildered to amused, and she gradually got into the playful spirit of the contest. While they waited for Nick to make his choice, she mingled with some of the other entrants, complimenting their taste—or smoothing over the lack of it—with a skill that impressed him. Tightly wound as she seemed at first, once she loosened up, she had a real way with people.
When Hannah bounded over to say hello, Lauren’s face lit up as if she’d just reconnected with her long-lost best friend.
“Ben! Lauren!” Out of breath, Hannah held up her basket for them to see. “Look!”
“Awesome,” Ben approved then leaned down to murmur, “I think you’ve got more than six, though.”
“Noah’s sick, so Gramma said I could get some for him. I didn’t want my little brother to miss out.”
“That’s really sweet of you,” Lauren said, hunkering down for a closer look. Carefully nudging the top ones aside, she smiled at the excited little girl. “It looks like you found the best ones.”
“I don’t want any ugly Easter eggs,” Nick’s niece informed her in a very grown-up voice. “I left those for the boys.”
Again, Lauren’s laughter caught Ben pleasantly off guard, and he noticed Ann watching them from across the lawn. Clearly delighted, she sent him an approving smile before focusing back on Nick and his list. Now that Ben thought about it, she’d been whispering with Amelia over something earlier. With their own sons happily tied down, had they turned their attention to him? It would be just like them, and while he recognized that they meant well, he resolved to nip their matchmaking in the bud. Not that it would work with Lauren, who seemed just as determined as he was to avoid getting wrapped up in anything serious. Still, he didn’t want to risk them starting something he had no intention of finishing.
“Okay, everyone,” Nick announced loudly, holding up a bronze hat stand with a plaque on the front. “We’re set. It was a tough call, but this year’s winner of the Bonnet Trophy is Lauren Foster.”
He held the trophy out for her, but she whispered, “I can’t. These people worked really hard on their hats, and your mother threw this together for me five minutes ago.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd, and Nick leaned in to mutter, “It’s either you or Amelia Landry, who’s won this thing five years running. She’s a real sweetheart, but come on—she made a hat for her dog.”
“Actually, I think that’s adorable.”
Nick didn’t move, and when she flashed Ben a “help me” look, he shrugged. “Up to you.”
After a moment, she shook her head and accepted her prize. Undoing her hat, she set it on the stand and smiled from Nick to the others gathered around. “Thank you very much.”
She was rewarded with a round of applause, and the square quickly emptied out. Ben was thinking it was time to get going when Julia hurried over to where he and Lauren stood chatting with Nick. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What now?” Nick growled. When she tilted her head at him, he backpedaled. “Sorry. What’s wrong?”
“We hid four hundred eggs. The kids only found three hundred and forty-two of them.”
Sending a horrified look around the large park, Lauren groaned. “Are you telling me there are fifty-eight eggs still here, just waiting to rot
and stink up the whole town?”
“And our wedding reception,” Julia added, sending Nick an urgent look.
“The raccoons will get them.”
Ben thought that made sense, but Julia clearly disagreed. Folding her arms, she gave Nick a stern glare. “Then we won’t know how many might be left. I’m not going anywhere until we’ve found every last one of them.”
Evidently unwilling to go up against his unyielding fiancée, he relented with a glance over at Ben. “Gimme a hand?”
“Sure.” Chuckling, Ben draped an arm around his shoulders and angled him toward the gazebo. “Anything to save the wedding.”
* * *
Easter Sunday dawned bright and beautiful. It was the kind of spring day that made you believe anything was possible, and Ben felt optimistic while he pulled his one suit out of its plastic wrap and dressed for church.
When he reached his father’s house, though, his mood dimmed considerably. The truck was gone, and taped to the storm door he found a note:
Gone fishing. See you tomorrow.
Trudging back to his own truck, Ben tried to summon some kind of emotion. Disappointment, anger, something. Sadly, the best he could come up with was ambivalence. The fact that his father had chosen to dodge the Easter service he once looked forward to should have worried Ben, but he couldn’t dredge up much of anything other than pity.
While he drove into town, he recognized that over the past few months, the one thing he could count on was that he couldn’t rely on his father anymore. Missed meals, disappearing, showing up late and hung over for work—they’d all become things Ben had been forced to accept because he didn’t have the first clue about how to change them.
For all intents and purposes, he was single-handedly running Thomas and Sons. Nick had run his own online magazine for years, and he’d often teased Ben that he was way too nice to be the one in charge. Sadly, Ben was beginning to agree with him, but he was a fairly smart guy, and he could figure out a way to remedy the situation. Had to, if the business he depended on for his paychecks was going to continue.