“On the outside. On the inside, not so much. My sister was artistic, creative and very feminine. I’m more of a tomboy.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got two arms and two legs and the packaging seems to be in order.”
Daisy’s lips twitched as she took the snapshot from his hands.
“Thank you, I think.” She inspected the photo. “Either way, I look like the children’s mom, which is a dilemma. How can they heal if they see her face every single day?”
“You’re approaching this all wrong,” he said. “Maybe the fact that you look like their mother is a blessing.”
She wordlessly slid into the chair across from him, and once again disappeared into her thoughts.
As the silence stretched, Mitch bit into the lemon meringue pie. He blinked in surprise as the flavors slammed into his taste buds. “You made this?”
“You don’t like it?” Alarm registered on her face.
“Daisy, this is the best pie I’ve ever had.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
Mitch took two more bites in succession and swallowed. “Did your sister bake like this?”
She laughed. “No. She hated cooking.”
He chased the last flakes of crust around the plate with his fork and looked up at her. “Tell me again—why aren’t you doing this for a living?”
“When I should have, I suppose I didn’t believe in myself. Now, well, now the time isn’t right.”
“Life is all about timing, isn’t it?” He paused and glanced at the refrigerator. “I don’t suppose you’d consider seconds.”
Daisy’s lips curved into a slow and sweet smile before she stood and stepped to the refrigerator. “Asking a woman for seconds of her pie is a very good way to keep her smiling.”
“I, uh...”
Mitch didn’t have a quick comeback because it occurred to him that he liked being the guy who made Daisy smile, and that eating really delicious pie was a small price to pay for that privilege.
As she pulled open the refrigerator, he assessed her profile. She was a woman the likes of which he hadn’t seen before. Smart, courageous, stubborn and beautiful. And she baked pies. The situation was becoming problematic.
* * *
“How do you think it went?” Daisy asked.
She and Mitch walked around the church classroom, straightening chairs and bringing the room back to the same order they’d found it in. With each chair she pushed in, Daisy analyzed the session she just taught.
Normally she didn’t second-guess herself. After all, she had plenty of experience and she knew the material well. But this was Rebel, and it was hard to gauge an audience who spent most of its time ogling the cowboy police chief.
“I thought they were a really focused group,” Mitch said.
“You did?” Daisy turned to look at him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. And I liked that sales pitch you did at the end.”
“About the community center?”
He pushed back the brim of his gray Stetson and nodded.
“That was Henna’s idea. The more the citizens of Rebel associate the community center as something that involves them, the more likely they’ll be to get on board.”
She grabbed the box of handouts and her duty ball cap. “You know, late last night I realized that we aren’t just responsible for coming up with a winning plan for the county. That plan has to actually work.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“What if we don’t raise the money to open the community center? Everything may look good on paper, but we have to succeed.”
“Huh. And here I figured you for an eternal optimist,” Mitch said. He turned off the lights, and held the door open for her as they left the classroom.
“I do consider myself an optimist. The thing is, I’m making decisions for seven now. It’s not just about me.” Daisy followed him down the long carpeted hall and out of the door into the late-spring sunshine. Standing on the sidewalk, she waited as he locked the church door.
“There’s no reason yet to think we won’t meet our goals,” he said.
“Chief Rainbolt?”
Daisy and Mitch turned to find an attractive young woman from class standing behind them.
“Yes, ma’am?” Mitch queried.
“I wanted to thank you for the class. I learned a lot, especially the section on home security. Now I realize that perhaps I should have someone stop by the house to ensure that I’ve properly implemented the home safety protocols you outlined.”
“Ma’am?”
“Of course, I’d make you dinner.”
Daisy’s jaw nearly dropped at the bold offer. She dared to look up at Mitch.
He stood on the sidewalk with one hand on his service weapon and the other paused in gesture. “I...um...” His mouth was open, but nothing was coming out.
“What Chief Rainbolt means,” Daisy interrupted, “is that, right now, the department is extremely busy with our participation in the new community center. However, if you’ll reach out to the department on Monday, we can provide you with the contact numbers for home security companies available to assist you.”
“Oh. I suppose I could do that.” The woman’s face fell for a brief moment. “Thank you.” With a bright smile, she turned and left.
Mitch blinked and looked at Daisy. “Thank you. I’m usually right there with a response. That one caught me off guard.” He met her gaze. “What’s that expression on your face mean?”
“It means, I didn’t realize you had groupies. That’s going to be good for fund-raising.” If she could tolerate giving the women of the town carte blanche to fall all over him for the summer.
“I don’t have groupies,” Mitch returned.
“Oh, yes. You do,” she scoffed. “Surely you look in the mirror on occasion. You’re single and handsome. You wear a uniform that includes a Stetson. Women swoon over that stuff.”
“All women?” He narrowed his eyes.
Daisy’s face warmed at his scrutiny. “Most women.” She prayed that he couldn’t see the truth in her eyes, because, yes, she was one of those women. The admission irked her constantly.
“I see.” He moved closer. “Let me carry that box for you.”
“I’ve got it.”
“This is an old-fashioned town, Daisy. I’m the police chief. It looks bad if you’re carrying a heavy box and I’m not helping.”
She released a breath.
“Let me be chivalrous, would you?”
“Fine.” Daisy released the box.
As they passed the drugstore, Daisy paused to read the sign in the window. “Rebel Ranch Fishing Derby. Seth and Grace keep talking about that. They’re too young this year. Maybe next year.”
“You can still take them fishing,” he said.
“I could. If I knew how to fish.”
“Can they swim?”
“I have no idea.” Daisy looked up at Mitch and grimaced. “It appears that not only am I a naive homeowner, but my mothering skills are questionable too.”
“Cut yourself some slack, Daisy. It’s not like the shooting range. There isn’t a test. What you’re doing with the kids is on-the-job training.”
“What if I fail?” In her heart she knew there was no way she’d be a match for her sister. Deb had been born with the maternal gene. Daisy had not.
“You pick yourself up and try again.” He shrugged. “Can you swim?”
“Yes.”
“Great. The two of us can handle the situation.”
Daisy looked up at him. “What situation?”
“Pay attention. We’re talking about fishing. You and I are going to take the twins fishing.”
She released a small gasp. “I don’t know the first thing about how to fish.”
�
�I’ll teach you.”
She stared at him, astonished at the offer. “Why would you do that?”
“You just said—”
“Mitch, you can’t go around fixing things for everyone.”
“Not everyone. You’re new to Rebel, and you’re in my employ. I’ve lived here all my life. I’m offering my expertise in areas unknown to you.”
“What am I doing in return?”
“Teaching a class.”
She was silent for several moments, considering his words as they continued to walk down the street. “About the fishing?”
“Oh, so you are interested.”
“Yes. The kids deserve this opportunity. That’s why we moved here.”
“Is it so hard to accept help from me?”
“No. I told you. It’s not personal.”
“Right.”
She looked up at him. “Should I get poles and such?”
“Do you know what ‘and such’ is?”
“Not a clue.”
He laughed and adjusted the box in his arms. “I have both the poles and the ‘and such’ covered. How about next Saturday?”
“We have class the next two Saturdays.”
“Fishing is in the morning. Class isn’t till the afternoon.”
“Okay. We can do that.”
“Bring sunscreen, water and hats. I’ll bring the rest.”
She nodded, mentally creating a list. “Got it.”
“I’ll pick you up at 5:00 a.m.”
Daisy’s head jerked back, and her jaw slacked. “Five a.m.!”
“I thought you liked being the first one in.”
“Yes. In the morning. Five a.m. is practically the middle of the night.”
“The sun rises at five thirty. Fish bite better at dawn. So the earlier the better.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why do fish bite better so early?”
Mitch nodded to a group of elderly women who passed them on the sidewalk before turning back to Daisy.
“Once the sun’s rays penetrate the water and warm things up, fish slow down and are more difficult to catch. It’s siesta time for them, and they’re not as interested in the bait. We want to catch them hungry and eating insects on the water’s surface in the early hours.”
“Don’t the fish like to sleep in on the weekend?”
“Uh, no.”
She stopped walking and stared at him. “Is this all true, or are you making it up because I’m a city girl?”
When he started laughing, she found herself fascinated by how the simple act softened his features. Mitch was normally so starched and serious about everything.
“What’s so funny?”
“You really are a city girl.”
“I am, and I’m going to tell that tale to Seth and Grace when I drag them out of bed in the middle of the night.”
“It’ll be fun.”
“That’s what people always say when they try to convince you to do something you know is not going to be fun.” She shook her head. “I’ll be ready at five because they deserve this wonderful opportunity to experience nature, but I’m bringing lots of coffee.”
“Deal.”
When he stopped on the curb in front of her minivan, she pulled her keys from her pocket and hit the remote unlock button.
“How do you like driving a minivan?” Mitch asked.
“I used to drive a cute little hybrid that could hit sixty miles per hour in less than seven and a half seconds.” She sighed, remembering her sweet ride. She’d give it up again for her sister’s kids, but that didn’t take the sting out of the memory.
“Zero to sixty. I don’t want to know how you know that.”
“Please. It nearly killed me to trade it in. I used the small life insurance policy my brother-in-law had for this very boring yet top-of-the-line safety-rated vehicle with a zillion airbags and for the down payment on the five-bedroom farmhouse fixer-upper. The children’s monthly checks from Uncle Sam are put away for their education.”
“That was smart, but it couldn’t hurt to spend a little on the house repairs.”
“No. Once I dip into their education fund, that’s how it starts. There will always be a good reason to take money out. Then it’s gone.”
“Why do I think you speak from experience?” he asked.
“You would be correct. My mother emptied our college funds little by little. Like you, my sister and I juggled several jobs to get through college.”
“Made you a better person, right?”
She released a short, bitter laugh. “That’s one way to look at things. But you have to consider that I now have five kids who might want to go to college. A college savings account will come in handy in ten years.”
“Maybe they won’t want to go to college.”
“Fine by me. The money is theirs. At least they’ll have choices. Something I didn’t have.”
“You’ve thought this through.”
“I have. Many sleepless nights.”
He slid the box into the van. “Any big plans for the rest of the day?”
“I’m supposed to meet Luna at the Jeep place.” She glanced around. “What exactly is the Jeep place?”
“End of the block and turn right on Second Street. Across the street from the new library. Beep Jeep Tours. They take tourists around the lake and on sightseeing excursions. Big deal in the autumn for foliage tours.”
“I guess I can see that.”
“Tell Luna hello from me.”
“I will, and, Mitch...” Daisy met his gaze and nearly faltered when his dark eyes searched hers.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for not having an emergency elsewhere today.”
“I enjoyed the class. You’re a good instructor, and somehow you managed to make me look good too.”
“Chief, you did that all by yourself.” Daisy armed the car alarm, and offered a two-finger salute as she headed down the street.
She didn’t dare say more for fear she’d be just as bad as his groupies. It wasn’t Mitch’s fault that he was handsome on the outside and a nice guy on the inside, she reminded herself. Still, she refused to become the president of his local fan club.
Passing Rebel Vet and Rescue, she glanced in. There were two entrances, one for dogs and one for cats. Both waiting rooms were visible from the street, and they were full. Tucker Rainbolt had a very robust business.
At the corner, she turned right and passed the new library building. On the other side was Beep Jeep Tours, and next to that an empty storefront. Daisy cupped her hands to peek inside. The sun streaming through the windows reflected off glass display cases. A bakery?
“Daisy!”
She turned at Luna’s voice. She smiled as the petite chef approached wearing stylish red capris and a print blouse.
“So nice to see you, again. I met your lovely grandmother.”
“You did?”
“Yes. At the book club last night.” She put both hands over Daisy’s. “I love your pies.”
“Oh?” Daisy stared, dumbfounded. Chef Luna Diaz loved her pies!
“The key lime berry. Oh, my heart, be still.” She grinned. “The French apple is a close second. The crumb topping on that one. I’m still dreaming about it.”
“Thank you.”
Luna nodded toward the empty storefront. “Do you like the shop?”
“Was this a bakery?”
“Yes. It’s been empty a long time.”
“If only we could go inside.”
“We can.” Luna pulled a ring of keys from her purse and jangled them. “I own the building.”
A giddy bubble stirred inside Daisy. Going into a bakery, even an empty one, was an exciting prospect.
&n
bsp; When Luna unlocked the door and pushed it open, tiny bells tinkled a melodic greeting. Mesmerized, Daisy followed her into the shop.
“No electricity but I’ll take care of that.”
Daisy released a sound of delight as she crossed the threshold. A twin set of suspended schoolhouse light fixtures hung in the front of the shop. Dust sparkles danced through the air, swirling in and out of a stream of light from the big display window that helped illuminate the space.
The square footage of the shop was much larger than it appeared from the outside. One wall was entirely composed of what was probably the original faded red brick. The wall reached up to meet an oak-beamed ceiling, with two large industrial ceiling fans in the front and back of the shop.
Traditional display cases and a large glass counter with an antique cash register greeted customers. The floor was checkerboard tiles.
This place. It was as though she’d been waiting for this place her whole life. Daisy moved behind the counter and looked out at the sidewalk and the street. Then she skimmed her fingers over the keys of the cash register. “What’s the story here?”
“The same story for many small businesses in town. Family owned for years. The kids weren’t interested in staying in Rebel.”
“That’s a shame.”
“I agree. We’re going to use the space for a pop-up shop for the bake sale,” Luna said. “Rebel Roasters has had success with this model.”
“Have you thought about actually opening a bakery?” Daisy asked.
“I have my finger in too many other pies.” Luna chuckled. “Good joke, sí?”
“Yes.” Daisy laughed.
“It’s the truth. Right now, I handle the guest ranch and run a catering business. There is no time for another project.” She turned to Daisy and cocked her head. “Perhaps you’d like to run a bakery for me?”
“Wh-what?” Daisy clutched her hands together.
“You could manage this bakery.”
Daisy couldn’t move, couldn’t answer for a long moment. “Another time and place, I would say yes. This is my dream.”
“Why haven’t you followed your dream before now?”
“I ask myself that question all the time,” Daisy murmured. Deep inside she knew the answer. Fear. Plain and simple.
“We will leave it in God’s hands. I have owned this building for two years, waiting for the right person to open a bakery. I would finance the operation, and they would run the shop.” She touched Daisy’s arm. “I believe you are that person. But it must be God’s timing.”
Finding The Road Home (Hearts 0f Oklahoma Book 1) Page 10