Beauty and the Brit (19 page)

Brilliant. He was a gentleman. He knew there was fear and vulnerability she wouldn’t admit to under her toughness. Still, what had playing the gentleman gotten him? A kiss and extreme physical frustration. It was a bloody good thing she couldn’t read his ungentlemanly mind.

Chapter Fourteen

R
IO GOT TO
the end of Bridge Creek’s long driveway, stopped her car, and dropped her head forward onto the steering wheel with a thump and a groan. She still couldn’t believe what a freaking idiot she’d been. David had to think she was ridiculous.

I’m not wearing a bra.
She’d really announced that? As if she had to tell a man who could teach master classes on the art of kissing something so obvious. As if you advertised something like that at all.

Not to mention
I’d have liked it if you’d touched my boob, but thank you for being good.

Seriously, where was her brain? She never acted this stupid around men. Around anybody. It was only him, and it had started before they’d ever kissed. Now that they had, apparently her head was a quivering mass of dead and dying brain cells.

And apart from opening her mouth allowing stupid to come out, why would she thank a man for respecting her? As if he should have a choice. As if she’d had no choices in the matter, and gotten lucky.

She pounded the steering wheel. The problem was, she didn’t
want
to think about female empowerment. All she truly wanted was to relive David’s kiss, because the only thing that had made her feel powerful in a very long time was the unbelievable current that ran through her body when her lips meshed with his.

A crush. Women got them on their rescuers all the time. Only this didn’t feel like a crush. It felt like something inevitable and cosmic, despite how ludicrous that sounded in her head. With a final groan of frustration she pulled herself together and continued to town, passing the Wonder Weenie Mobile still beside the “Welcome to Kennison Falls” sign.

She stepped into the main restaurant and got a shot of warmth. David had called it the heart of the town. It wasn’t hard to see why. Every eclectic detail called out “welcome home.”

“Good morning, Rio!” Claudia passed her with two plates of eggs and pancakes, her long gray braid swinging jauntily. “You’re right on time. Do you drink coffee?”

“I do.”

“There’s a pot next to the counter over there. Pour yourself a mug and settle into the booth in the corner. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Good morning again.”

A vaguely familiar voice hailed her, and she turned to see the man who’d delivered her car. In the light his features showed him to have a serious expression but a friendly eye that softened what could have been an intimidating face. High cheekbones and a thick, sable mustache camouflaged handsomeness that would be easy to miss. Rio smiled back easily.

“Hi, Mr. Mitchell.”

“No, no. It’s Dewey,” he said. “How’s the car running, then? Okay? I didn’t have time to check it over but it seemed to drive all right.”

He had a tinge of Minnesotan in his words, something Rio, a born-and-bred Minnesota girl herself, rarely heard. Yet he made the accent charming, without sounding like a Coen brothers film.

“It seems fine, thank you. And it’s full of gas, too. I’m sure it wasn’t found that way.”

He shrugged. “A little gas to get you going. It’s not a big deal.”

“I appreciate it, though.”

He smiled. “Well, bring ’er in if she has any problems. I’m happy to take a look if she needs a little tune-up.”

A sense of unreality threatened to overwhelm her. Niceness filtered through the air here like a weird sort of perfume. The people she worked with in Minneapolis were nice, too, but not like this. This was unicorns and kittens nice, not normal, “hello, have a nice day, see you later” nice.

“That’s very”—she stumbled over the word “nice”—“kind of you. Everyone’s been so welcoming.”

He lifted his coffee mug in a mini-salute. “We’re all right most of the time. Sounds like you’ll maybe be helpin’ us out, too?”

Laughter sneaked up and lightened her heart. There wasn’t any point anymore in being surprised at what people knew around this place.

“Maybe. For a little while,” she admitted. “So I’ll see you around then?”

“Here every day at break time.”

“Good. And, thank you again. It helps a lot to have my wheels back.”

“I figure, who can survive without tires and an engine, right?”

She gave him a thumbs-up and turned back for her coffee, to find Claudia with a mug already poured.

“Oh!”

“You’ll fit in just great around here,” Claudia said. “Chatting with the customers like that? They love it.”

“I swear this place is covered in pixie dust or something. It’s like having coffee in Cinderella’s Castle.”

“Not at all. It’s just different from the city is all. You’ll see soon enough.”

Rio took the coffee and followed Claudia to an isolated booth made from handsome wooden logs. There were other booths, but this one stood out as unique.

“This is Bud’s Booth,” Claudia said. “Effie’s husband built the original that was destroyed in the storm. He, Dewey, and David, actually, rebuilt it. The first thing you have to know is that it’s always kept open for anything special that comes our way. If a couple arrives looking like they need to be alone—put ’em here. If someone looks sad—put him here. If there’s an important meeting—it goes here. Somehow, it’s almost always available when it needs to be.”

“Wow, a magical booth.”

“Just one of the services Effie provides.” Claudia chuckled. “I think you’ll find this is quite a place, honey. Little special things everywhere.”

Rio stiffened. Being called “honey” never failed to give her a painful tweak. Even after ten years she could hear her step-grandmother’s grating voice float in from the past, “Honey Rio, trust me. I know what’s best.”

“I’m sure there are,” she said quickly, dispelling the memory.

They talked after that about Rio’s experience, about what she wanted to do, and when she was able to work. The matter-of-fact conversation flowed more easily for Rio and allowed her to keep her emotional distance from the warm, fuzzy Claudia, and returned her sense of control. Rio understood schedules, restaurant rush times, and sharing duties. They were things she could control and negotiate.

When Claudia brought her to see the kitchen and introduce her to Effie’s husband, Bud, the owner and main chef, and to Vince, one of The Loon’s three cooks, Rio could comment on the state-of-the-art facility and prove she knew her way around a grill. After her flood of questions, Bud seemed impressed.

“You might be dangerous to hire,” he said. “You know too much. We’ll be obsolete.”

She shook her head in certainty. “I know about frying up greasy burgers and grilling patty melts. I think you’d have far more to teach me.”

“She’s hired, Claudia,” he said. “She’s polite and knows how to suck up. That’s a rare combo. Welcome aboard, Rio.”

She started unofficially then and there. After filling out paperwork, she shadowed Claudia, learning the cash register and the credit card system. She took a handful of orders and watched as Vince and Bud whipped up the sandwiches and burgers. The crowd filtered in as it approached noon, and at twelve-thirty Karla Baxter arrived for her shift and greeted Rio like a long-lost sister.

“Thank goodness you came along,” she said. “I’ve been so concerned about school starting. I didn’t want to leave everyone in the lurch, but I have no choice.”

“I think it’ll be fun,” Rio said.

“We’re all family. We’ve been pulling together a long time.”

That made it all the more strange to Rio that she was so quickly accepted. Families were usually tight-knit and slow to let outsiders infiltrate. Yet, the small crew welcomed her patiently and with good humor. She wasn’t even officially on the payroll. The five hours between her arrival at The Loon and 3:30 p.m. flew past.

“I think we’ve stuffed enough information into your poor brain for today,” Claudia told her after Rio rang up her first bill on her own. “You’re a quick study.”

“It helps that I’ve done this before,” she replied. “Just never in such a nice place. I think I’ll enjoy working here.”

“I’m so glad. And I think we’ll enjoy having you. Now, you’re all right with the day shift? Four days this week. My sister Gladdie will take Friday, and I prefer the evenings because it gives me the days to get my work done at home.”

“That’ll be just fine.”

“Then we’ll see you tomorrow at nine. You’ll meet a couple of the other girls who help at busy times throughout the week. They’ll all head back to school in three weeks, too, so they’re very part-time.”

“I’ll be here. Thank you, Claudia. This will help me out a lot.”

“It’s mutual, honey.”

Rio let the “honey” go. Claudia’s endearment wrapped her in warmth, so different from Yaya’s rankling condescension. When she reached her car, she realized the embarrassment and confusion of the morning with David had ebbed away. She also realized, a little bit to her surprise, how much she enjoyed hanging around a restaurant. At home it had simply been her job. She’d never minded going to it, but she’d certainly never considered it something she liked. The atmosphere at The Loon Feather gave her a sense of accomplishment and place. She looked forward to returning.

Before starting the engine, she pulled her phone from her purse and checked it out of habit. Her thoughts careened to a halt when Paul’s name appeared above a text message.

Her heartbeat doubled. She hadn’t heard from him—or whoever it was—in over three days except for the sign in her car. With trembling fingers she tapped on the message. Her mouth dropped open.

Clever to sneak the car out of the lot in the middle of the night. I don’t know where you are yet, but I’ll find you and Bonnie before you can find me. Inigo sends his love.

She dropped the phone like it was a snake and gasped for air. The confirmation it wasn’t Paul sending the messages both relieved and terrified her.

But why was he going to the trouble?

Hector was a two-bit gang member. He simply couldn’t care this much about a teenager he’d dated fewer than half a dozen times. And if he was angry about the scratches from Rio, well, he’d burned her damn house down. What more revenge could there be? This whole terrorizing gig made no sense.

Her high deflated. Hector
had
been watching the car. Rio didn’t know how likely it was he really could find Bonnie. He was a small-time thug with few connections. On the other hand, he was mean, and he was resourceful. He’d evaded police for more than a week now.

She shouldn’t worry, but all at once she couldn’t wait to get back to David’s and check on Bonnie. Or maybe she should first go back and quit this job. How could she look out for her sister if she wasn’t with her? On the other hand, how could she ever get Bonnie out of there if she didn’t have money? She rubbed her eyes for a painful moment. Five minutes earlier life had been hopeful for the first time in many days. Now reality had scuttled her ship again. You really couldn’t escape who you were. Even in unicorn and puppy land.

Sure enough, at Bridge Creek something seemed off. Searching the yard, however, gave Rio no clue as to what it was. There was no evident panic. Several cars were parked beside the barn. She pulled in beside a shiny new, green Nissan. It could have belonged to anyone, but she eyed it suspiciously. Cars at the barn were always dusty and filled with riding paraphernalia. This vehicle was pristine.

Neither Bonnie nor David was in the barn. At the house, she crossed the deck to the back door and opened it to the sound of voices carrying through the empty kitchen from the living room. Puzzled, she made her way to the doorway. The moment she caught sight of a short, plumpish woman with the loveliest silver-streaked black hair she’d ever seen, Rio knew who she was and also who belonged to the perfect car outside. She’d completely forgotten about David’s mother’s arrival.

Mrs. Pitts-Matherson sat beside Bonnie on the deep-cushioned sofa. For once the girl wasn’t the main focus of the room. That seemed to be David and another woman, seated on the love seat opposite the couch. They bent over a book, the woman, slender and elegant even seated, spoke rapidly in a very Julie Andrews–esque accent. A glistening fall of satiny, dark chestnut hair hid her face.

“Do you remember this day?” She tapped the book and patted David’s thigh. “I was quite awful about having to go on that hunt with you, but you talked me into it so sweetly, and I ended up having such a marvelous time. I never forgot that.”

“I do recall it vaguely.” David’s voice held a note of uncertainty, and Rio’s very first impression was that he’d be happy to get away.

But then she put her arm briefly around his shoulders, squeezed once, and smiled tenderly. Rio’s stomach slid to her toes, surprising her with the force of her jealousy. Mrs. Pitts-Matherson looked up then, and confirmed her identity without saying a word. Rio saw exactly where David had come by his smile and warm cocoa-brown irises.

“Why, hello,” she said. “Here’s another face at the party. Is this your sister, pet?” She glanced at Bonnie.

“Yeah, it’s Rio. Hi!”

David’s head had popped up, and he caught her eyes with a slightly sheepish grin.

His mother stood and crossed the floor with a strong, sure stride that emphasized her bulldog sturdiness. She wore crisply creased black dress pants and a yellow shell beneath a pretty yellow, black, and lavender summer blazer. Rio had never seen a more beautiful bulldog.

“I’m Stella Pitts-Matherson.” She held out her hand. “We’ve heard so much about you already, Rio. Your sister has been delightful company, and I’m pleased to meet you.”

Stella’s accent was thicker, heartier, less refined than David’s.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m glad you got here safely.”

“Always good to settle here after the long trip. It’s such a welcoming home away from home.”

“I understand you had a big hand in that. David says you’re the master decorator, Mrs. Pitts-Matherson.”