by Marina Adair
“Don’t worry; they spelled your name correctly.”
“Good to know, Gramps.”
“It’s a sweetheart of a picture of Hannah,” added the major. “Even the boys seem content. Not so squirrely.”
“You look less hard-ass than usual.”
Jake narrowed his gaze on Moody, his teeth set.
Moody grinned. “Yeah, that’s the look.”
Jake ran one hand down his face. Exhaled. The men would razz him on the photo the entire day if he let them. He held up his hand. “Let it go.”
“For now.” Moody would only let it drop for so long.
Jake’s gramps nudged him with his elbow. “Behave. Hannah’s headed our way.”
She was coming toward them now. Jake started to smile, only to swallow it instead. Her steps were tentative. Longing flickered in her eyes, fading to wariness. He’d told her the previous evening that he’d be at breakfast. There was no warm greeting on her part. Only a new detachment. A quick look his way and she focused on Moody and the major. Jake became the invisible man.
She placed a mug before each of them, then poured their coffee from a thermal carafe. Steam rose. A dark-roasted brew. She placed the carafe in the center of the table, an easy reach for all three.
Pen and order pad in hand, she addressed the older men with genuine warmth. “What sounds good this morning?”
They rattled off their breakfast choices. Jake came next. He stared at her hard from behind his sunglasses, willing her to look at him. She did not. Instead she eyed his bandanna as she took down his order.
Afterward she read back their selections, starting with Moody and Jake’s gramps. “Two corned beef hash topped with eggs, sunny side up.”
Moody blinked. “We didn’t order eggs.”
“You need your protein.”
Jake’s granddad chuckled. “She’s always looking out for us.”
“Two glasses of orange juice.” She stared down their raised eyebrows. “You need your vitamin C.”
“You’re like a granddaughter,” Moody approved.
Jake was mildly amused. He liked the way Hannah watched over the older men. He hoped she’d take care of him too. Perhaps by adding something special to his own breakfast. He listened intently.
“One order of lumberjack pancakes,” was all she gave him.
“And . . . ,” he pressed, “don’t forget my sides of scrambled eggs and bacon.”
“And . . .”—the major winked at her—“his side of corned beef hash.”
Jake removed his aviators, jammed them atop his head, and canceled, “Real funny, Gramps. Erase the hash, Hannah. I’ll pass.”
She had avoided looking at him while he was wearing his shades, but didn’t hesitate to meet his gaze without them. Strange. She held up her order pad for him to see. “I never wrote it down.”
His granddad grinned. “Gotcha, boy.”
Her gaze flicked off his. “I’d planned to bring you a side too, Jake. One of Gram’s vanilla-maple Danishes.”
The best Danish on the planet. She’d thought enough of him to add an extra. He liked that. A lot. Things were improving. Somewhat. “Thanks,” he said.
Jake stared at her with such intensity that she moved on, distancing herself from him. He hadn’t missed the clouding in her eyes. A hint of sadness. The heaviness in her steps as she proceeded to clip their breakfast ticket on the order wheel at the service window. He took a sip of his coffee. Brooding and reflective.
She confused him. He didn’t like uncertainty. He preferred clarity. Especially with women. What had appeared the start of a relationship the previous day had weakened overnight. For no apparent reason. Which made him crazy.
Crazier still with Moody’s observation, “Hannah doesn’t seem too fond of you this morning.”
“She seemed more sad than mad,” his granddad reflected.
Jake shrugged. “I’ve no idea. Maybe she got up on the wrong side of the bed.”
“As long as it wasn’t your bed.” His gramps spoke low and direct.
“Nope, not mine. I slept alone,” he assured him.
“She usually has more pep in her step,” said Moody.
“Bigger smiles too,” added Jake’s gramps.
“Don’t blame me.” Although he already blamed himself for Hannah’s changed attitude toward him. He felt like the fall guy in a relationship that never got off the ground.
“We’re not pointing any fingers, son,” the major said appeasingly. “I’m sure her mood will improve.”
Her mood did, in fact, take a turn. Five minutes, give or take, and a tall man with short brown hair dressed in a brown sport coat and knife-creased khaki slacks entered the café. All clean-cut and polished. Preppie, Jake thought. The man stood just inside the door, sharply eyeing the crowd. He wasn’t familiar to Jake. But that meant little. He didn’t know everyone in town.
Moody noted the new arrival. “Gregory Manor, our local success story,” he said with pride. “He’s a fine lawyer.”
Jake recognized the name from his conversation with Hannah. Greg and she had grown up together. They had a history. He’d been her first kiss. An off-target kiss, more cheek than mouth. Still, he’d gone in lips first.
“Bet Gregory came home to check on his father,” the major assumed. “His dad had a bad fall off a ladder while cleaning the gutters at his home. Damn autumn leaves.”
“Bet he planned to see Hannah too,” added Moody.
Jake was curious to observe them together. He had little time to wait. Hannah came toward them now, clutching a tray piled with plates that looked like their order. All attentive and careful. She managed to avoid the crush of departing customers, as well as the brush of waitresses running circles around her. Including hostess Lauren, who cut her off at a corner table. Thankfully, there were no upsets. She focused on safely reaching their booth.
All the while the buzz around Greg increased. The excitement circled throughout the café as customers focused on the man. He was welcomed with handshakes, slaps on the back, and wide smiles. As popular as any politician.
Drawn toward the commotion, Hannah glanced his way. The man stood in profile to her. Jake watched her watch Greg. She started. Color drained from her face. Her grip on the tray turned her knuckles white.
Her body suddenly sagged and the tray swayed. Jake’s gaze shifted to their meals. His Danish rolled off its plate and his order of bacon flipped onto a serving of corned beef hash. Orange juice splattered the rims of the glasses. An accident waiting to happen.
He reacted. He straightened from the booth before she dumped the dishes onto their table and the floor. His best efforts weren’t good enough. Hannah came out of her trance too late. The tray teetered and the edge smacked him square in the chest. He took the brunt of the mess. A serving of corned beef hash cleared the rim and coated his T-shirt. The egg atop it smeared the logo on his chest, the yolk runny. A full glass of orange juice splashed his groin. Sticky. He smelled of hash.
Shaken, Hannah lowered the tray onto the table. “Oh no, Jake,” she said brokenly. “I’m so sorry. It was all my fault.” Her worry touched him.
He hated to call attention to himself, but everyone was now looking his way. Even Greg eyed him. “Not a big deal,” he was quick to say. “I stood up too quickly and unsettled you.”
She fidgeted. “That’s not quite—”
“It was exactly how it happened.”
There was a deeper stir throughout the café when Greg approached them. He squeezed Hannah’s shoulder, greeted her warmly, “I came to have breakfast.” He cut Jake a look. “I’d rather eat it than wear it.” He scrunched his nose. “You could use a shower.”
A shower? An obvious observation. Jake lived by his gut feelings. He took an instant dislike to the lawyer. He wondered how Greg would react to corned beef hash squished on his starched white shirt. Citrus splashed down his zipper. Undoubtedly not well.
Word of the mishap had already reached Nan in the kitchen. She s
hot through the swinging doors and came straight to them. She carried two dish towels, one damp and the other dry. She handed them to Jake. “Maybe these will help,” she said. “Wipe yourself off.”
He swiped at his T-shirt, but the stain only sank in and spread. His chest flexed. The hash smell was all over his skin. He passed the towels back to Nan. Said, “I need to clean up. Change clothes.”
“What happened?” the older woman asked.
Jake looked at Hannah. Her expression was downcast, so he gave his own brief accounting of the incident. “Greg—” he began.
“Gregory,” the attorney corrected.
“Greg,” Jake continued, “came into the café and everyone was glad to see him. His arrival caught Hannah off guard. Surprise tipped her tray. She would’ve recovered had I not jumped up to help her. I jarred it further. My interference caused the plates to shift. This is the end result.” He indicated his ruined shirt and damp jeans.
“Your helpful hands weren’t so helpful after all,” Greg said.
“I appreciated the rescue,” said Hannah.
“Not really a rescue but more of a disaster,” from Greg, his tone distasteful.
Jake had heard enough from the man. He threatened the attorney with a look that had him taking a step back. Behind Hannah. His shield. What a wimp.
“So everyone’s okay, then?” Nan asked, making certain.
“We’re cool,” Jake assured her. “This is far from the worst thing ever to happen to me.”
Nan eyed her granddaughter. “I’m fine,” Hannah said.
She next took note of Greg. “Nice to see you.” A warm and genuine welcome.
“You’ll see quite a bit of me during my father’s recovery,” he announced. “I’ll be in town for several days.”
Greg was the good son with strong family ties. Jake had had enough of him. He snagged his jacket off the hook, tossed it over one shoulder. He dug a fifty-dollar bill out of his jean pocket and handed it to Hannah. “That should cover our breakfasts along with a tip.”
Hannah gasped. “Way too much.” She tried to pass the bill back to him.
He refused to take it. “You deserve it.”
“Return and I’ll fix you a special breakfast,” Nan offered.
“Will do,” he agreed.
He cut his gaze to his gramps and Moody. They’d observed the incident but remained silent. Unusual for Moody, who always had two cents to share. The major spoke now. “Mind if we start without you, son?”
“Chow down.”
Hannah quickly served the remaining breakfasts. The men dug in. Forking down the leftover plate of corned beef hash along with Jake’s lumberjack pancakes. He couldn’t fault them. They were hungry.
So much for their family breakfast together.
Better luck tomorrow.
Chapter 4
Hannah watched Jake leave the café. His shoulders were set. His stride long. Purposeful. She felt awful about the tipped tray and food slide. All dumped onto him. She needed to apologize further without everyone in the diner staring at them. Soon, she hoped.
She quickly checked on her remaining customers, clearing away plates and refilling the carafes with coffee. Most had headed out the door for church. Tray in hand, she headed to the kitchen and dropped off the dirty dishes with the dishwasher. She sought the comfort only her grandmother could provide. Always warm and nonjudgmental.
Hannah found her gram at the big yellow mixer. “Muffin batter,” she was told. “Butter pecan.”
Hannah’s favorite. She became mesmerized by the circling mixing bowl. The snap of her grandma’s fingers made her blink. “You don’t seem yourself this morning,” Nan noted.
“Just feeling a little . . . off.”
“How so? You should be in high spirits after that great parade photo and article in the Moonbright Sun. You and Jake were quite the pair. I’ve heard lots of positive comments on the spread. Did you have a good time?”
“Pretty much so.”
“What’s gone wrong since?”
Hannah sighed heavily. She had no problem confiding in her gram. Nan had been her confidante over the years. Broad-minded and wise. “It has to do with the legend.”
“What about it?” Her grandmother slowed the speed of the mixer, asked, “You chanted. Did you catch an image of your future spouse?”
Hannah kept Jake’s kiss to herself, held deep within her heart. She did, however, explain that she’d seen an unknown man’s reflection in Jake’s mirrored aviators.
“You must’ve been standing quite close.”
Hannah blushed. “Close enough.”
“You didn’t recognize the man at all?”
“The profile was hard to determine. The vision looked a little like Gregory.”
“A little or a lot?”
“Too hazy to honestly tell.”
Nan eyed her thoughtfully. “You expected someone else?”
Hannah shrugged. “Merely hoped.”
“Ah, perhaps somebody in a black leather jacket?”
More heat in her cheeks. A question she couldn’t confirm or deny.
Nan stopped the mixer. She laid out several muffin tins with liners. Then used a measuring scoop to fill each one. “Gregory’s home now,” she said. “Are you glad to see him?”
“He’s a good friend.”
“He’s a fine man. Accomplished and established. Keep an open mind, little one.”
“Is the legend always right?” Hannah needed to know.
“Do you want it to be wrong?”
“I’d merely like some leeway.”
Her grandmother read her well. “A chance to know Jake better?”
“I haven’t been friendly with Jake since I saw the image,” she confessed. “I pretty much blew him off afterward. He may have already lost interest.”
“From what I know of Jake, he may be mildly put off but never discouraged. Should he decide to date you, he will.” Her gram winked at her. “Even with some competition.”
“Gregory?”
“He’s always been devoted to you.” Nan sprinkled a pinch of cinnamon sugar atop the muffin mix. “My best advice, sweet girl—it’s not the worst thing in the world to be pursued by two men. Rather exciting, I’d imagine. Why not divide your free time between them? Enjoy them both. Gregory will be in town as long as his parents need him. Jake”—she shrugged—“who knows? He’s a loner, on his own schedule.”
“He could leave at any moment.” Realistically speaking.
“But I doubt he will.” Nan moved two trays of muffins to the convection oven. Already preheated. She set the timer. Paused. Adding, “Don’t force life. Let it happen. Sooner or later the image you saw in Jake’s sunglasses will become clear and you’ll know who’s meant for you. Have faith in the legend’s choice.”
Hannah’s heart lightened. Possibilities emerged. Gained life. She would be patient.
Her grandmother went on to gently massage her hands, which were reddened with swollen knuckles. Hannah sympathized. “Your arthritis is acting up.”
“My fingers are sore today,” Nan admitted.
“What can I do to ease the pain?”
“Nothing at the moment, honey. But easier days ahead. You’ve met Sydney Byrne, I believe.”
Hannah nodded. “Pretty lady. Medium height, brown hair worn in a bun. Her parents were killed in a car accident, from what I remember. She came to live with her grandmother in the large Victorian on Maple Street. She finished up her last two years of high school here.”
“Exactly right,” Nan confirmed. “Sydney moved away and only recently returned for her grandmother’s funeral. She owns Bread and Cie in San Francisco. After her grandma’s passing, she came back to Moonbright to settle the estate. She’s fixing up the place and I hope she’ll stay awhile. She bakes amazing homemade bread and I’m going to talk to her about making weekly deliveries. I hear she makes a wonderful honey wheat loaf. Sourdough and marble rye too.”
“No more kneading
and rolling out dough for you.” Hannah cupped her grandma’s hands in her own, holding them lightly. Relief settled deep. Nan worked so hard, even in pain. Hannah was grateful for Sydney and hoped she and Nan could come to an arrangement.
“Order up, Hannah,” one of the line cooks called to her.
“Gregory’s breakfast,” she told her gram.
“Feed the man. Then I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Anything.”
“The dining room has quieted down for the moment. The other waitresses can cover your section. I’d appreciate your going upstairs and checking on Jake.”
“Whatever for?”
“A courtesy call. He saved your tray from fully toppling over and took the brunt of the hash and juice. Bring him back downstairs and I’ll fix you both breakfast.”
“I don’t have time to eat.”
“Make time.”
Hannah managed a smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
She located Gregory at the front counter and served him a sizzling plate of country fried steak and eggs. He patted the empty stool next to him. “Join me?”
An offer she might have accepted, if not for Jake. Gregory was good-looking and personable. He’d been a great playmate and friend when they were younger. He’d always shown interest in her. She liked him a lot. Their relationship was comfortable. Caring and easy. But he didn’t make her heart race or her stomach go soft. Jake did both.
Be that as it may, the image she’d seen last night in the mirrored lenses persisted in her mind. Just out of focus. More blur than believable. While the vision wasn’t Jake, she wasn’t certain it was Gregory either.
She touched his arm but turned him down. “I have an errand to run for Gram.” She left out who and where.
Gregory cut a bite of country fried steak. “Care to catch a movie later?”
“Thanks, but no. I’ve seen the double feature twice already.”
“I’ll think of something else for us to do then.”
“I’m working until three.”
“I’ll give you a call. We’ll touch base later.”
Hannah topped off his coffee mug, then cut back through the kitchen. She took the storeroom steps to the second floor and crossed to Jake’s apartment, where she stood outside the door. She breathed deeply, slowly raised her hand, and knocked. There was no immediate response. She fist-bumped the door a little harder. Still no answer. She wondered if she’d missed him. Perhaps he’d gone down the outside staircase as she’d come up from inside. A considerate move on his part. He wouldn’t disrupt the busy kitchen staff.