by Verna Clay
Cecelia interrupted, "I'll buy your business."
All heads jerked in her direction.
Chapter 3: Recluse
Connor MacKenzie lowered his paintbrush when his hand started its usual cramping.
Looks like I'm done for the day.
With a disgusted toss of his brush onto the table beside his easel, he reached for his cane and limped to his chair in the living room. Easing into the recliner, he pushed it back and closed his eyes, focusing on relaxing his right hand and arm. If he couldn't get the muscles to relax, he'd have another sleepless night. His doctor was pressing him to have surgery to reconstruct damaged nerves, and he was given an eighty percent chance of almost full recovery. It was the other twenty percent that gave him night sweats. He'd been warned for years that this time would come. If he lost his ability to paint, after losing his wife in the same car accident that injured him, and then his baby son because he couldn't care for the child during the years his recovery had taken, he figured he'd probably shrivel up and die.
Thinking about his boy stuck a lump the size of Mt. Whitney in his throat. After the accident, when the foster care system had talked of placing the two month old under their authority, he'd known he had to do something. The doctors said he was looking at the likelihood of a minimum of four years recovery time. He'd done it in three. It had taken two years to get out of the wheelchair and walk with a cane, and another year to regain function of his right hand.
So, in the best interest of his son, because he and Rose had no living relatives, he had allowed his child to be adopted by a couple his doctor referred. The couple was childless, well-educated, wealthy, but most importantly, loving. They had come to visit Connor and he'd checked them out big time, even hiring an investigator. They had passed the investigation squeaky clean.
All too clearly he remembered that rainy day as he lay immobilized in a hospital bed with pins in his head and pain wracking his body, his gut-wrenching decision to let Sean be adopted.
Connor swiped a hand over his eyes. He hadn't thought about that day for a long time, but Sean's fifteenth birthday had just passed, and he always became melancholy around that time.
Breathing slowly—in and out, in and out—he worked at relaxing. Forcing his mind away from his son, he wondered if the charity foundation had received his painting yet, and what they thought of it. When he'd read the letter from a representative, his first inclination had been to refuse, but then he'd seen the name of the organization the proceeds would be funneled to. It was the same one that had arranged the adoption of his son. It was a wonderful non-profit and they had done right by him and Sean. He knew his boy was happy and loved.
One of the criteria that Loving Arms Adoption Agency encouraged was for the adoptive family to send updates at least yearly to the birth parent or parents. Every January, Connor received a letter and pictures from the Barfields encapsulating his son's previous year. As always, they encouraged him to let his son know he was alive and spend time with him, and he always sent a thank you card, never accepting their offer. The pain would be too much.
An hour later, he felt his body relax and he dozed.
Chapter 4: Learning the Ropes
Cecelia unlocked the door to Dixie's Cuppa Joe and stepped inside. It was five-thirty and the sun was making a glorious appearance. For a moment she simply glanced around the darkened room and then remembered she needed to disarm the alarm. Reaching for the light switch, she illuminated the shop and walked to the box in the back near the delivery entrance. She was so excited it took two attempts to enter the code.
I own a coffee shop in this wonderful town!
For the past three months, since her crazy declaration that she would buy Dixie's Cuppa Joe, she had prepared for this cross country move. Her New York employer had been shocked, but not as shocked as her mother and father. They simply could not understand why she would want to leave her charity work, her beautiful penthouse, and friends from a lifetime spent in the Big Apple.
Explaining her decision was not easy because, in some ways, she couldn't understand it herself. She only knew it was what she wanted more than anything. She wanted connection. However, even fully understanding that desire eluded her.
Brushing her musings aside, she walked to stand behind the counter to gaze at the chairs and tables scattered throughout the cozy room. For the past week, after signing the papers finalizing her transaction and funding the purchase, Dixie had taken her through the daily ropes of running a coffee shop. She now knew the secrets to brewing coffee that brought huge numbers of residents and tourists to Dixie's Cuppa Joe. And although she still had much to learn, she could prepare some of the coffee drinks and smoothies that made the shop so trendy. Quickly, she reviewed a few of the most popular selections—Mocha Madness, CinnaBomb, Very Vanilla Velvet Vienna—and hoped she could remember how to make them. Of course, Julie Hackstetter, who worked at the shop part-time, and Justin Blake, who worked full time, as well as two other part-timers, knew everything there was to know. Cecelia appreciated the fact that Dixie had trained her employees in every aspect. She almost giggled when she realized that soon she would be considered a barista.
The shop door opened and Justin entered. With a drawl, he said, "Howdy, Miz Cecelia! Looks like this is D-Day, as in Dixie's Cuppa Joe New-Owner Day."
She smiled at the twenty-something young man who said he'd moved to the town from Dallas, Texas, at the age of fifteen to live with his grandmother after the death of his parents in a small plane accident. Although he was well acquainted with grief, she never saw Justin without a smile or kind word on his lips. He was the main barista and proclaimed he loved his job.
Cecelia confided, "I'm so nervous my knees are shaking."
Justin laughed, "Now don't you worry, ma'am. Me and the workers got everything under control."
Sincerely, Cecelia said, "I know you do. This is just so mind-bending. I never thought I'd leave New York and I'm feeling a little overwhelmed."
Justin approached the counter and reached across the granite countertop to pat Cecelia's shoulder. "We're going to have a wonderful day."
The door opened and Julie entered with two other employees. She gushed, "Gosh, I can't believe I made it on time, what with getting a cranky fourteen month old up and dressed and then having my seven year old decide she hates everything in her closet. Maudie gave me the worst time. Sadly, it appears the princess phase of her life is over. Now she's moved on to hobo. She wanted to wear Levis with holes in the knees and a ratty T-shirt."
Julie seemed to realize she was rambling and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. As ya'll know, I talk too much."
Cecelia laughed. "What did Maudie finally wear?"
Julie chuckled. "I gave her an ultimatum with three outfits. Two of them were frou-frou, so she was somewhat placated with the third, a pair of Levis sans holes and a nicer T-shirt."
Trying to be helpful, Cecelia offered, "Julie, if you need to adjust your work hours, I'd be happy to do so."
"Oh, goodness, no. Jacob takes Maudie to the bus stop when he leaves for work at my dad's ranch and he drops the baby off with Sarah. It works perfectly." She rushed past the counter. "Just let me put my purse in my locker and I'll be right back."
Samantha and Tilly said greetings and rushed after Julie. By now it was almost six and Cecelia continued the routine already set by Dixie in meeting with everyone in the main room. It was a time for discussing new drinks, answering questions, but mostly for starting the day off on a good note. With a voice full of excitement, she said after everyone gathered, "I want you all to know how much I appreciate the support and help you've given this past week while I transitioned from city gal to country gal. As far as understanding this business, I know I've only scratched the surface, but I've a mind to learn. This place would be nothing without you and I welcome your input and suggestions." She paused and then confided, "Whenever I visited my brother and his family, I'd always come to Dixie's Cuppa Joe just to bask in the homey atmosph
ere and talk with locals. It was then that my secret desire to become a part of this community was birthed." She swallowed thickly. "Thank you for making this possible."
Justin said, "We're going to have an awesome day!"
The other employees immediately agreed and Cecelia said, "Okay, my friends. Let's get to work."
At six, the OPEN sign was turned over and the first customers entered the shop. Mostly, they were ranchers or farmers getting a head start on the day. Around seven, locals who lived in town began arriving, and closer to eight, owners of nearby businesses grabbed their morning coffees. By eight-thirty, every table was full and several people stood in line. Justin and Julie were the baristas that day and Tilly ran the cash register while Samantha organized and kept the glass case full of pastries that had been delivered shortly before six from a local bakery. Angie, a woman of around sixty, who handled bookkeeping and bank deposits, would arrive around nine. Cecelia had deliberately asked all of the employees to work that first day. Later, that would change to two or three employees opening the shop and the bookkeeper going back to afternoon hours.
Cecelia now walked from table-to-table greeting known patrons, introducing herself to others, and making everyone feel welcome. As she moved from one group to another, a wave of happiness engulfed her and she almost pinched herself. She hadn't felt so alive in years.
At nine, the crowd of customers was almost out the door. Justin called, "The daily delivery to Maple Street is ready." He pushed the cardboard carton holding a giant coffee and a Cinnamon Fluffy-Puffy toward Tilly. Tilly bagged it and handed it back to him.
Cecelia said, "Do you want me to make the delivery?"
Justin replied, "No, but thanks. Julie is taking over for the few minutes I'll be gone. Besides, you should keep getting to know the townspeople."
Cecelia watched Justin leave and gave passing thought to the man who had come to be known as Mystery Man. According to Dixie, she'd received a call several months back from a guy she said had the hottest voice she'd ever heard, that is, besides Alligator's. He'd asked to have a standing order of coffee and a Fluffy-Puffy delivered every morning at nine. He'd said he wanted to start a tab and he'd pay once a month. He always paid on time and included a generous tip. The check came from a trust fund that gave no clue as to the identity of the man and he was the recipient of much speculation. Justin said that during one of his deliveries, groceries were also being left on the porch by an employee of Biggie Bag-n-Save Big Mart.
So far, everyone except Cecelia had made the coffee delivery. His instruction for leaving his order was to set the bag on the table beside the front door. None of the employees had ever seen him up close. Tilly speculated that he was horribly scarred, like in Phantom of the Opera. Justin said he was a mafia hit-man hiding from the CIA. Julie said he had lost the love of his life and spent his days wasting away in drunkenness and that's why he needed coffee every morning. Dixie speculated that he was an alien from Mars plotting the demise of the earth. Alligator said he was a nutcase. Whatever the truth, they had fun inventing stories.
Justin returned shortly and shrugged, meaning nothing had changed.
By three o'clock, which was closing time, Cecelia and her employees were exhausted. She and Justin were the last to leave and she locked the door behind them. He grinned and teased, "I think ya done good, Miz Cecelia."
Cecelia reached to touch his arm and said sincerely, "I couldn't have done it without you and the others."
Justin didn't refute the obvious. He just waved and headed down the street to his shiny red, classic pickup that he'd once informed her was a 1965 Ford F250.
Cecelia turned in the opposite direction to walk toward the home she had leased. She glanced at the clear blue sky and thought, Life is good.
That evening, while relaxing in a tub of bubbles in the small bathroom, as opposed to the state-of-the art bathroom in her penthouse, she laughed at the change in her lifestyle. It seemed that she was following the lead of her brother. After he had married Tooty, even before, while writing his latest suspense novel and staying at Julie and Jacob's place, and later at Tooty's inherited home, he had given up luxury for country living. He said he'd never regretted his decision. Cecelia could understand why. She loved the quaint little white clapboard cottage that was now her home, with its yellow shutters and red flower boxes. The maple floors, mellowed with age, and a few antique pieces of furniture that came with the house—dining table, hutches, and bedroom set—gave the place character and charm. She had purchased a floral couch of greens and yellows and matching green chairs. Little by little the cottage was turning into a beautiful home. She was even considering asking the owner to sell it to her.
Her mind wandered in a different direction and she sighed with happiness—so many of Miles and Tooty's friends had come to wish her well on her first day. Of course, she had met many of them on previous visits, but now they were fast becoming her friends, too.
She lifted a cloth and dripped water down her neck, loving the honeysuckle fragrance of her favorite bubble bath. Her eyes drifted closed and she thought about the different families, trying to fit all the relationships together.
Sage and Sarah Tanner were pillars of the community with fourteen year old twin boys, Preston and Toby, and an eight year old daughter, Hannah. Cecelia's employee, Julie Hackstetter, was Sage's daughter from a previous marriage. Julie had told Cecelia a little about Sage and Sarah's tumultuous meeting and romance. Seems Sarah, a romance writer, had met Sage at a photo shoot in which he was the hero on the cover of her book. They had had a rocky beginning which caused Sarah to dislike him. When she'd shown up at the Lazy M Ranch for six weeks of dude lessons, she hadn't known Sage was the owner and sparks had ignited.
As for Julie, she had married Jacob, a young man she'd met as a teenager when he vacationed with his parents at the dude ranch, the same summer that Sarah arrived. It had been at Julie and Jacob's wedding that Cecelia's brother, Miles, had met Tooty for the first time. He'd come to the area to finish his current novel. Later, he'd asked Sarah Tanner if she could recommend someone as his assistant. When Tooty showed up for the interview, he'd thought her much too young for the position.
Cecelia smiled and ran more hot water in her bath. Life sure had thrown her brother a curve. Now he was married to the love of his life and they had five children.
Thinking about life's quirks, she laughed and shook her head. The woman Miles had been dating in New York, Monica Newport, was now also a resident of this quaint town. Through unforeseen circumstances, she had been hired to care for the daughter of the local rodeo star, Dirk Branigan, while he convalesced with a broken leg. Of all the people in the world, Cecelia would never have believed that spoiled Monica could become such a sweet woman. In fact, as impossible as it seemed, she was one of Tooty's friends and didn't resemble the socialite she had once personified. She was married to her rodeo star and mother to Dirk's twelve year old daughter, Tessa, and their adorable baby named Candi.
Cecelia rose from the tub and grabbed a fluffy towel, still thinking about the townspeople. Another family she had become friends with was Jackson and Annie Martinez. Annie was the mother of Jacob Hackstetter, Julie's husband. After being widowed, she'd moved to Paxtonville to be near Jacob and Julie and fallen in love with Jackson, a much younger man. Angel was their ten year old daughter.
Annie's grandmother had even moved to Paxtonville after marrying one of Sage's ranch hands, Newt Tucker, a died-in-the-wool crotchety old bachelor who'd changed his mind after meeting spitfire Molly.
Throughout the evening, a grin kept escaping Cecelia's lips as she pondered her new town, her new friends, and her new lifestyle.
Chapter 5: Delivery Gone Awry
For Cecelia, the next two weeks passed quickly while she learned everything about her business. Her employees taught her how to make all the drinks on her menu and she jotted suggestions from patrons and employees for new concoctions.
While in bed, she would often try to t
hink of cute names for beverages. The creative side of her nature thanked her. She had so many ideas—from designing advertisements for the local paper to rearranging chairs and tables in her shop. Shopping online for cute pictures having to do with coffee became her favorite evening pastime, as well as contemplating and surfing the net for ideas in decorating her shop for Christmas.
On the Wednesday of her third week, she felt comfortable in her ability to manage her business. Her employees even said she was great to work for. Her life in New York seemed light years in the past.
Justin said, "I got Mystery Man's order ready. Cecelia, are you acting as barista while I'm gone?"
Cecelia said, "Hey, why don't I deliver his coffee? I'd like to see where Mystery Man lives."
Justin replied, "Sure. That's a good idea for future reference. Here's how you get to his house. You walk to First and Main and turn right. The second street you come to is Maple. You turn right again, and it's the fourth house on your left."
"Got it." Cecelia grabbed the pretty sack with the coffee and Fluffy-Puffy inside, and headed out the door. She called a few greetings to patrons as she left the shop, but didn't stop to chat. She didn't want Mystery Man's coffee to get cold.
*
Connor peered through the privacy blind allowing him to see out, but not allowing anyone to see inside his home. Usually, a young, skinny, dark-haired man delivered his standing order, but not today. Instead, a woman of average height with thick brunette hair that reached past her shoulders walked the flagstone path of the property he'd rented for the past six months. She wore a white, short-sleeve button down blouse and knee-length tan skirt. With her curves, she definitely wasn't a teenager. He decided she was probably in her mid to late thirties. She was intriguing, but he wouldn't let his mind wander in that direction.
Anxious to start the day's painting, he was already mixing colors in his mind. He dismissed the woman from his thoughts and started to turn around when he saw the lady stumble. For an instant he thought she might recover herself, but then she went down hard on her knees and her elbow skidded against a flagstone. The bag she carried somersaulted into the air and landed several feet from her.