When he got to the bookstore and opened the doors, a little pony-tailed girl trotted next to him. She looked up. “Hello, my name is Bailey Brown.”
A woman in her thirties walked in after her. “Bailey, don’t forget, you can have one book and don’t put anything up your nose.” She turned to Jake. “Hi. I’m Mallory Brown, and that little critter is my daughter.” She looked around the store. “You don’t have tiny candies or beans or pencils lying about, do you?”
He quickly deduced that Bailey liked to stick things where they didn’t belong. “No.” He gave her a quizzical look. “Pencils?”
She laughed. “That must have sounded crazy. A few months ago, she pulled the eraser off a pencil, and poor Dr. Lydia spent over an hour trying to get it out of her nose. Last month she got a bean stuck in her ear canal.”
He chuckled. “No pencils that I know of, but there is a book with a box of beads attached.” He leaned to the side to see past Mrs. Brown to Bailey. “Yep, looks like she found it.”
“Oh no.” Mrs. Brown took off at a sprint toward her daughter. “Bailey, you put that down, or I will thump you.”
A minute later, Mrs. Brown had Bailey by the hand, leading her out the door empty-handed.
Agatha walked in around eleven. “Just checking on you. I can’t help today. Doc and I are headed to Silver Springs to the movies.” She smiled. “If he buys me dinner, he may get lucky tonight.”
Jake’s eyes opened wide. He didn’t know how to respond to that. The only thing he knew was the geriatric residents of Aspen Cove saw more action than him. “Umm, have fun?”
“I see that look on your face. You young ones are impossible. Your mind went straight to the gutter when what I meant was, if Doc bought me dinner, he’d get lucky because I’d bake his favorite dessert.”
“Sure, that’s what you meant.” He knew by the twinkle in her eye that she knew exactly what she was doing.
“You need to get some help in here. I’m too old to have two jobs.”
He winked at her. “If you’re still thinking about that kind of dessert, you’re not old at all.” Pointing to the help wanted sign he hung in the window, he said, “I’m working on it.”
The door opened and in came Natalie and Will. Both looked as if they were walking the plank or heading to the scaffolds for a hanging.
Agatha glanced between them; her eyes focused on the book in Will’s hand. “I better get going. Looks to me like you have an important meeting.” Agatha might have been elderly, but she moved quickly when she wanted to, and she left the bookstore as quickly as an Olympic sprinter off the blocks.
He pointed to one of the tables in the shop. He’d had many shapes and sizes brought in, so people could sit and enjoy. He envisioned the Book Nook as a place where the residents gathered. Where people could play checkers and kids could do homework. He even considered selling coffee and tea, but liquids and books weren’t a good mix.
“Hey, Will, I’m Jake.”
The boy took a seat and hung his head. “I’m supposed to tell you I’m sorry.”
He glanced at Natalie in time to see her roll her pretty eyes. Then he turned back to Will. “Are you sorry?”
Will traced the graphics on the cover. “Yes, I am.”
“Good, because a sincere apology is the first step in making amends.”
“I apologize, too,” Natalie said. “I’ve never had a brother and never had kids. I didn’t even babysit as a teen.” The words spilled forth quickly. “Honestly, I don’t know how to raise a twelve-year-old boy.”
Jake sat back. “I hear it takes a village. Having been here a couple of weeks, I’d say Aspen Cove is the perfect place for Will to grow up. As for the book”—he shrugged—"like I told you yesterday, he can work off the debt. I’ve got stock to unpack. The restroom needs cleaning, and the floors could use a sweep.”
“I’m not cleaning the bathroom,” Will blurted.
They both glared at him.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “But do I get to keep the book?”
Will seemed like the typical twelve-year-old with a one-track mind, but his eyes told another story. There was a lifetime of hurt and worry etched behind the green.
Natalie gripped the edge of the table and stood. “I’ve got to go. My shift starts soon.” She nodded to Will. “It looks like yours does too.”
A look of horror was in Will’s eyes. “You’re leaving me with him? He could be a serial killer.”
“He’s not.”
“But he fits the profile. He’s a middle-aged white man.”
“I’m thirty-six. I’d hardly call that middle-aged.” Technically it was, but somehow the term didn’t sit comfortably in his head.
“You’re ancient,” Will tossed back.
Natalie moved toward the door. “Promise not to kill him?”
His shoulders shook with his laughter. “That’s a tough promise to make. What if I promise not to implicate you?”
Will waved his hand in the air. “I’m here, and I can hear you plan my death.”
Jake rose from the table and walked Natalie the rest of the way to the door. “Would anyone miss him?” He stared at her lips as her tongue snuck out to lick the dryness away. A thread of heat uncoiled in his stomach and settled lower. What the hell was happening to him? He hadn’t had that strong of a reaction to a woman in years.
She sidestepped him to look at her brother. A smile spread across her face. “I might miss him. The jury is still deliberating. Bring him back when he drives you crazy.” She walked out.
Jake returned to the table. “Ready to earn your keep?”
Chapter Seven
Natalie finished filling the salt and pepper shakers and turned around when the bell above the door rang. Jake walked in with Will, who looked tired but happy.
“Looks like you both survived.” She glanced around the nearly empty diner. The only person present was Baxter, and he was finished. “Sit wherever you want.”
As usual, Will trudged toward the corner booth. He seemed to like the out of the way space where he could go unnoticed and watch everyone. She would have picked the same table.
She’d learned to read people early on. It was an act of self-preservation.
Though it had only been a couple of days, she knew Will would want a root beer and guessed on tea for Jake.
She brought the drinks along with her and set them down on the chipped Formica tabletop. Reaching over, she ruffled Will’s hair. “You hungry?”
“Starving.” He looked at Jake and smiled. “He made me dust all the shelves, sweep the floor, stock and clean the bathroom. I oiled the furniture, washed the windows, and read.”
“You read? How is that a chore?”
“Work hard and reap the rewards,” Jake said. “Take shortcuts and deal with the consequences. He earned that reading time.” When he looked at her and winked, her heart somersaulted and landed in her stomach. It wasn’t a feeling she felt often. She likened it to having whipped cream with hot chocolate. The warm sugary sweetness tasted good despite not being good for her.
“What did you read?” He’d already nearly devoured the second Harry Potter book. That morning they’d driven into Copper Creek and bought him clothes. On the way back, they stopped by the library for a card and book three.
“Hunger Games,” he said with excitement. “Jake said I could read it if I promised not to fold the corners of the pages.” He drank his root beer and wiped the drop running down his chin with his sleeve.
“Hey, buddy, use your napkin. We just bought that shirt, and it needs to last.”
He lowered his head. “Sucks to be poor.”
“It’s all perspective. There are people with less, and to them you’re rich,” Jake piped in. “I’d say you’ve got a pretty sweet deal going on here. You’ve got a sister who cares, you’re fed, and you look healthy.”
“Speaking of feeding—” She pulled out her notepad and looked at Jake. “I’m guessing grilled chicken and veggies for
you.” She turned to her brother. “Cheeseburger or fried chicken?”
“Burger.”
“You got it.” She scrawled Jake’s name across the top while she walked to the window and clipped the order on the wheel. Next, she checked on Baxter. “Do you need a piece of pie, or anything else?”
“I need a good night’s sleep,” he said.
“You and me both.” She rubbed her tired eyes. “I’ve been sleeping on the couch so Will could have the bed. It’s not conducive to a good night’s rest. Kind of lumpy and, every time I move, the frame squeaks.”
“I won’t complain then.” He pushed his plate away. “My biggest problem is the smell of muffins coming through the floorboards. That and working on my house way too late into the night.”
“You bought a house?” She hated when a prick of envy pierced her gut.
“Yep, it’s a small two-bedroom bungalow on Hyacinth. It was the cheapest place in town because it had no roof. The plumbing and wiring are shot, but I’m working on it bit by bit. If all goes well, I should be out of the apartment above the bakery by late summer or early fall.”
She leaned against the booth. “I don’t know what I’ll do. I wasn’t expecting a roommate.”
“Sometimes it’s the unexpected that’s the most rewarding.” He looked toward Will and Jake. “He’s your brother, right?”
“News travels fast.”
“Small town living at its finest.”
“True, but I love it.” She stared out the window. “There’s such a feeling of community here.”
“There is. I’m fairly new in town, and yet I feel like I know everyone. Why don’t you live in town?”
“I couldn’t afford the rent. Besides, most of the places are falling down, and I don’t have your skill set. I can paint and garden, but plumbing and electrical are beyond me.”
“There’s lots of development going on. Between that real estate mogul Mason Van der Veen and Wes, there’s bound to be something opening soon. Aspen Cove is growing faster than California did during the gold rush.”
She closed her eyes and imagined living in a house where she could spread her arms and turn around without hitting anything, a place where Will had his own room. Where the kitchen had full-sized appliances. A home with a shower that didn’t share the same space as the toilet. The only benefit to that layout was she could sit to shave her legs.
“I hope Aspen Cove never loses its charm.” Why she loved it, she couldn’t say, but she was drawn to the tiny town.
“Everything changes, but who knows. Some change is good. Holy hell, we have a bookstore. That job was how I could afford the house. I’d call that a good thing.”
“I’m happy for you.” Even though she was envious, she was excited for Baxter. He was one of the good guys. All a person had to do was see him with his twin Riley to know they were nice people. He treated her like she mattered.
Baxter turned his head toward the corner table where Jake and Will sat talking. “Your brother seems to have found a friend in Jake.”
“More of a mentor, I think.”
“Order up,” Ben called.
“You need anything else?”
“Nah, I’m good.” He pulled a twenty from his pocket and placed it on the table. “Keep the change.” He slid out of the booth and left.
She swiped up his dirty plate and the twenty and went to deliver her next order.
“Thank you,” Jake said as she put his plate of chicken and steamed broccoli in front of him.
“You’re welcome.”
When she set the cheeseburger down for her brother, she reminded him not to waste.
“What about you? Have you eaten?” Jake asked.
“I’m good.” She never liked to lie. She was starving, but her employee meal went to Will. Although Maisey probably wouldn’t mind if she got something else, she never wanted to take advantage of someone’s generosity. “I’ll eat at home.”
Jake eyed her, then nodded. “Are you off soon?”
How long had it been since she heard anything close to those words? Her last job was as a cocktail waitress in a dive bar in Taos. Nightly, she got a pat on the bottom and a “Hey, babe, what time do you get off?” Somehow, Jake’s asking didn’t seem to be a pick-up line. Although the way he constantly stared at her lips said otherwise. Not that she would have minded. Jake was right up her alley: sexy, nice, and temporary.
“I’m off at four. Riley is coming in to take over.”
“How many days a week do you work?”
“Are you hitting on my sister?” Will asked.
Jake’s cheeks turned pink. “No. Just … just …”
Will grabbed his stomach and fell onto the bench laughing.
“Ignore him.” She turned her back on her brother. “I usually work six days a week, but two days are half shifts.”
“Six days?” Jake asked.
“If I’m lucky. I like the work. It keeps me busy, and it’s the only time I really socialize.”
Will sat up. “Sounds like hell to me.”
She frowned at him. “What did I tell you about your language?”
He lowered his head. “Let my words show my intelligence, not my ignorance.”
“I’ll have to write that one down,” Jake said.
“Quote collector?” she asked.
“No. Life coach.”
Will cocked his head. “People need coaches to live?”
“Some. I’m more of a mentor.”
Natalie threw her fist into the air. “Nailed it.”
“Nailed what?” asked Jake.
She shook her head. “Nothing.” She turned to Will. “Eat up. Riley will be here in a few minutes, and we need to leave.” She walked away, smiling. She’d never met a life coach, although she probably needed one. A coach who looked like Jake could be a bonus.
Fifteen minutes later, Riley walked in for her shift, and she and Will walked out. The entire twenty-minute drive home Will talked her ears off about the bookstore and Jake.
“Nat, he’s the coolest guy. Did you know he’s got some chick’s kidney inside him?”
She’d never been given a nickname, and she liked it. “I did. You’ll meet Katie one day, and she has the same woman’s heart. Weirder yet, Bowie is married to Katie, and he used to be engaged to the woman who died and had her organs donated.”
His eyes grew big, and so did hers because as soon as she turned into the gravel driveway, she saw the government vehicle with the large Department of Social Services emblem on the side.
She killed the engine and sat for a moment staring at the car. “What are they doing here so soon?” She didn’t mean to say it out loud.
“Are they here to take me away?” Will’s voice grew high-pitched and frantic.
“No, they just want to make sure you’re okay.” She had hoped to have a few weeks or even months until they showed up for a welfare check.
An older woman with glasses and a head full of gray pin curls stepped from the sedan. She smoothed the wrinkles from her black pants and reached back inside for her clipboard.
Natalie took a big breath. “Let’s go, Will.”
He shook his head. “No. Let’s leave.”
“You’re made from tougher stuff. Let’s face her and get this over with.” She opened her door and walked toward the woman. When Will continued to sit in the car, she waved at him to join her.
“Are you Natalie Keane?”
“Yes.” Natalie leaned in to see the tiny letters of her nametag. Fran Dougherty. Below her name was her title, Social Worker. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”
Will left the car and moved to Natalie’s side.
“We like to make our first visit unannounced. It’s better to check in right away because the first few days are the hardest.” She turned to Will. “How are you, Will?”
Green eyes watched her in a hard stare. “How do you think I am?”
She seemed to ponder his response. “I’m sure you’re confused.
You’ve had lots of changes in your life recently.”
Natalie could see his fists forming and his body growing stiff. She laid her arm over his shoulders and pulled him to her side.
“Mrs. Dougherty just wants to make sure you’re being taken care of. Shall we show her around?” She hoped her voice held more confidence than she felt.
Will looked up at her with an expression that begged for her not to let them take him.
“I won’t,” she whispered, hoping he knew what she meant.
“You seem familiar with the process,” Fran said.
“Yes.” Natalie walked them to the front door. “I grew up in the foster care system. My mother died when I was six.”
Fran scribbled something on her paper and waited for Natalie to unlock the door.
“Do you have neighbors?” Fran asked, looking around. The only thing visible was the highway and the forest.
“Not really. The closest neighbors I have would be Abby Garrett and Cade Mosier. She owns a bee ranch, and he raises cattle.”
“People ranch bees?” Will asked in awe. His once tense demeanor melted into excitement over the talk of insects.
“I don’t know the right term for it, but she has a bunch of hives.”
“I believe they are known as apiculturists,” Fran added.
“Cool.” Will stepped aside so Natalie could open the door.
They entered the home that once felt like a hug. Now it was cramped with the three of them jockeying for personal space.
“This is where you both live?” Fran quickly wrote notes across the page. “Where does Will sleep?”
They pointed to the loft.
“Where do you sleep, Natalie?”
She nodded toward the couch. She was grateful she’d tidied up this morning. Leaving a blanket on the couch made it appear like she hadn’t cleaned all week. “I know it’s small, but it provides us with all we need.”
“Twelve-year-old boys need privacy. They also need friends. Have you registered him for school?”
Natalie shook her head. “He’s been here for less than a week. And it’s the beginning of summer. I’ll put that on my list.”
One Hundred Decisions: An Aspen Cove Romance Page 5