A Promise Of Home (A Lake Howling Novel Book 1) (13 page)

“The apricots are good this time of year.”

An elderly woman was inspecting the oranges, which were right beside the apricots.

“Thanks.”

“Make a good cobbler with those if you get some berries as well,” the woman added.

Branna was used to walking around a crowded supermarket in Washington without saying a word; she’d frequented the same one for five years and never conversed with anyone unless absolutely necessary. This was another thing that she needed to adjust to here in Howling. It seemed that her, “I don’t really like to talk much” sign wasn’t flashing neon.

“I was thinking of a chicken apricot dish,” she said, surprising herself.

The woman sucked on her teeth, the lines on her face deepening as she thought about what Branna had said. “May work, but I’m not partial to mixing my sweets and savories too much; still, you be sure to let me know how it turns out.”

“I will, and you have a good day,” Branna added.

Moving along, she began to navigate the canned food section. It was about adjusting. She could do that, and would have to, if she planned to stay in Howling. She didn’t want to be known as that woman, you know the one that lives in Georgie’s old place. Has thirty-seven cats, doesn’t leave her house.

“Hey, Branna, how’s the head doing now?”

Penny Bilks gave her a wide smile from across the aisle.

“Much better, thanks, Penny.” Branna didn’t hold grudges and in all honesty, Penny’s intervention had helped her, she could see that now, even if it did put Jake McBride on her doorstep.

“Good morning, Branna.”

Branna turned to look at who else had spoken, and thought about making a run for it. Macy Reynolds was approaching with a man. Dressed in snug-fitting red Capris, a tight stretchy white top that hugged every curve, and a red pair of slip on heels, her perfectly made up face held a cold expression.

“Macy,” Branna nodded her head.

“This is my husband, Brian Delray,” Macy said. “Brian, this is Branna O’Donnell.”

Macy said the words reluctantly, almost to Branna’s ears as if she didn’t want Branna to meet her husband.

“Miss O’Donnell,” Brian Delray held out his hand, which Branna shook.

He had a nice open face, neat dark hair, and soft brown eyes. His clothes, unlike his wife’s, were understated, a pair of gray trousers with a sharp edge ironed in the fronts and a pristine white shirt with pale gray pinstripes, and a matching tie. His shoes were polished black leather. Branna could only imagine the life this man led at the hands of the Barracuda at his side.

“I hope you’re settling in well, Branna. Georgie’s place needs a bit of work from what I remember; if it gets too much, you let me know,” Macy’s husband said.

“I’m sure she can cope, Brian, especially as the house was a gift,” Macy’s words sounded almost shrill, and Branna felt another tug of sympathy for the man.

“So, how long have you two been married?” Branna asked, when they fell into a heavy silence.

“Six years now, and we’re very happy,” Brian Delray said with another gentle smile.

“I-I, ah…” Branna felt the heat of embarrassment fill her cheeks. Did he know what she’d been thinking? She didn’t know what to say; the thought of this gentle soul being in the clutches of someone like Macy Reynolds was just plain wrong.

“Branna? Branna O’Donnell? How long has it been since we saw each other?”

This day was just getting weirder by the minute. Now, a big dark-haired man, who looked like he’d stepped off a billboard, was sauntering towards her, his smile wide and genuine. She had no idea who he was, but he seemed to know her. Looking closer, she wondered if he’d gone to school with her. She couldn’t remember anyone who had eyes that particular blue, and his accent had a Texan twang to it.

He didn’t stop as he reached her, just wrapped his big arms around her, placing a smacking kiss on one cheek. Then, tucking her into his side, he stuck out one large hand to Brian Delray, who was watching the proceedings with a slightly stunned expression on his handsome face, while his wife’s mouth had puckered in disapproval.

“Ethan Gelderman the 5th.” His words were as smooth as heated honey and rolled off his tongue.

“Brian Delray, and this is my wife, Macy. You’re not a local, Mr. Gelderman?”

“No, but I love your little town, Mr. Delray, and it holds even more appeal now that I know the first woman I ever loved lives in it.”

She had to fight the urge to laugh. She knew he was making it up then, but why? Furthermore, why was she going along with him when normally she would run a mile if anyone touched her like he was? Funny, how she didn’t feel threatened by him.

“Let’s go, honey, I’m hungry; hustle that sweet little butt of yours along and we’ll head over to Buster’s for a coffee,” Ethan Gelderman the 5
th
then said.

Smiling at Brian and Macy Reynolds-Delray, Branna raised a hand before letting him lead her away.

“You done?” he questioned.

“I am, and I have to say, you don’t look like Sean Connor, who was my first love. He had red hair and green eyes. Although, they can do wonders with surgery these days, and name changing happens all the time, I believe.”

“I got the feeling from Buster and Jake you’d be handful,” the Texan said.

“A handful? Are you serious? You were the one who walked up spouting all that rubbish about first loves, Mr. Gelderman, and I’m not entirely sure why?”

“Ethan,” he corrected her, “and that little gathering just looked plain awkward, so I took pity on you.”

“Do you know Macy Reynolds or should I say Reynolds-Delray, that poor man’s wife? The woman standing there dressed like a model?” Branna looked around the supermarket. If she was in the city, she’d have been nudged and shoved a dozen times by now, but here she was able to walk and browse, or had been until a large, way too handsome man had intercepted her.

“Can’t say as I’ve met her before today,” he drawled.

“Think fake everything, right down to her personality, and you’ll understand,” Branna, said.

“Now, that I understand, darling. I’m from Texas, after all.”

“And you love those kinds of women?” Branna added, looking at his perfect bone structure. The man was a walking advertisement for what woman wanted in their men. Tall, built, devastating smile, and could talk a pair of panties down without breaking a sweat.

“You talk funny,” he said, hustling her up to the checkout by putting a hand on her back.

“I’m Irish.”

“Jake said you’d lived in the U.S. for years, but occasionally you spout out something from your homeland.”

“Sounds like you and Jake had a nice little chat about me.”

“He may have misled me about just how damned hot you are, but I’ll take that up with him when I see him.”

Branna rolled her eyes, because men like Ethan Gelderman the 5
th
had learned to flirt in the birth canal.

“Morning.” The young girl at the checkout gave the man behind her an interested look before returning her attention to Branna. She had short white hair, spiked, with bright green tips. She had piercings through her lip and brow.

“Morning,” Branna said, as she started to load her stuff on the counter. The Texan tried to help, but she slapped his hand, which kept him out of her cart.

“I learned to drive in your car,” the girl added, as she started to scan the groceries and put them in a bag.

“Did you?”

“Name’s Jilly, and Georgie taught plenty of the local children to drive in Geraldine; she was kind of the local driving instructor.”

“She was a special person, that’s for sure,” Branna said, still loading her things onto the counter.

“She baked cookies for us too.”

Branna thought again of the anonymity she had in Washington; she’d still rather be here, though, because when the interest in her died down, she could live in peace and be left alone to write her stories.

“I liked the vanilla ones the best,” Jilly said.

“Absolutely, they were the best, although the double chocolate was a close second.”

Jilly made a humming sound of appreciation.

Walking out with her bags and a large Texan a few minutes later, Branna realized that most people just wanted to talk about Georgie. They didn’t want anything from her, like she’d first thought they would, only to keep the memory of the woman they all loved alive.

“So, Sir Galahad, I think your good deed has been done for the day; I release you,” Branna said, after they’d loaded her van. Out here in the sun, his eyes were amazing, like a clear blue lake and surrounded by long black lashes. His hair shone and he had the look of a fit healthy man who was quite happy with the human he had become, a bit like his friend McBride had once been.

“You owe me a coffee for saving you from humiliation.”

“I don’t know you.”

“Ethan Gelderman, the 5th,” he stuck out a hand, and Branna shook it.

“Do I have to drive you there too?”

“The lines are too low here in town to land my chopper on the main street.”

“Where do you land it?”

“At McBride’s house.”

She wasn’t sure if he was serious or not, but suspected he could be, as she had heard the thud of a helicopter a few days ago. Heading for the driver’s door, she said. “All right, get in, as long as you can handle a woman driving.”

“Honey, I can handle anything you want to do to me.”

“Do women honestly fall for that kind of thing?” Branna backed her van out of the parking lot, and then headed towards The Hoot. “I mean, seriously?”

“What can I say? It’s a gift.”

Branna remembered Belle saying something about a Texan who was Jake’s friend.

“You’re the Texan Tomcat!”

He rolled his eyes. “Annabelle Smith just hates that I haven’t hit on her yet, so she made up that name.”

Even sitting in the front seat of her van, which could easily pass as a family vehicle, he looked sexy. Funny how she didn’t find him as attractive as Jake, though, which was just plain annoying.

“Why haven’t you hit on her? She’s hot. I’d hit on her if I was into women,” Branna demanded.

“My eyes just crossed at that vision.”

Branna refused to laugh as she pulled up outside The Hoot, but it was hard. The guy was certainly a lethal combination; however, she felt nothing, which was a shame, because he’d be the perfect man to have an affair with.

“Hey, loser, I want food now!” Ethan demanded as they walked in.

“Go fuck yourself.”

Branna laughed at the snarled words from somewhere beyond the counter.

“Morning, Buster,” she said.

“Sorry, Branna, I thought it was the Texan card swindler the 5
th
who’d walked in.”

“Did you know Buster was a sore loser, Branna? Real sore, takes it right to heart.”

The muttering continued out back, until they were forced to go see what he was doing, as he didn’t seem to want to serve them. Buster was hunched over his laptop, tucked in at a table around the back of the café. Sun was pouring in the window, and he was the only one in the room.

“Business a bit slow today?”

“Just had a rush,” Buster didn’t look at her as he answered.

“Any chance of some service? I want to try the mystery muffin,” Branna said. “And I’m willing to clean your baking trays for the recipe.”

“Not happening, and help yourself to whatever you want.” Buster frowned at the screen.

“What are you doing?” Branna moved to look over his shoulder.

“Trying to get my website up and running. I want to sell stuff online, do some catering, but it’s harder than it looks, and costs too much to get it done by someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”

“Jesus, boy, you just about got out a full sentence out there,” Ethan called from his position in front of the food cabinets.

Branna started to ask Buster questions, and soon they were throwing ideas back and forth; she could see what he wanted, but that he wasn’t getting close to getting there.

“You want me to fix that bit for you?” Pointing at the page, he was having trouble with, Branna saw a few things that needed a different angle, and her fingers itched to change them for Buster.

“Would you?” He was out of the chair so quick it wobbled.

“Sure, I’ll take a look.”

***

Jake was thinking about Branna as he walked towards The Hoot. She thought she was tough, liked to think she didn’t want people in her life, but she’d only been back a while and she had collected Mikey and reconnected with Annabelle. Seeing her van parked outside as he drew near had him swallowing his smile before pushing open the door to inhale the smell of coffee and baking, both coincidentally, which he loved.

“She’s in the back.”

“Who?” Jake questioned the tall Texan lounging at the counter.

Ethan rolled his eyes and Jake wondered when he’d become so obvious. “I found Branna in the grocery store chatting with some guy who should be named Mr. Perfect and his hot wife.”

“Brian and Macy Reynolds-Delray,” Buster and Jake said together.

“I stepped in when the conversation got awkward. Apparently, Irish was astonished when she realized who Mr. Perfect was married to. FYI, she’s now in love with me,” Ethan added.

“It’s certainly one of life’s mysteries as to why Brian married Macy, that’s for sure,” Buster said, as he wandered out with a tray of pies that smelled way too good for Jake to resist, so he stole one.

“They’re steak.”

“I’m changing it up.” Jake took a bite and sighed.

“Your woman’s doing his website up,” Tex said. “It was a pathetic sight when we walked in; Buster was weeping onto his keyboard, so Branna took pity on him.”

“She’s not my woman.” Jake knew Branna couldn’t hear them, as the music in the café was loud enough to mute their conversation, but he wasn’t taking any chances on her hearing and firing up at him.

“Sure she is,” Ethan said.

“Thought you said she was in love you with you?”

“She is, but I’m standing aside for my friend, clearing the way, or you’d never get the girl. Wouldn’t be fair on you otherwise, as the odds are not in your favor.”

The Texan’s blues eyes twinkled, and he knew Jake wanted to bite back, but instead he went for something far tastier that would soon reverse the tables.