From Boss to Bridegroom (22 page)

While Mr. Arthur locked up, she and Caleb walked to the café, which surpassed her expectations. The interior was both sophisticated and airy, with embossed cream-and-rose wallpaper and crisp white linens on the tables. The wood floors gleamed. Scents of freshly roasted coffee and cinnamon lingered in the air.

When their coffee and sweet buns had been delivered, Caleb leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “What's on your mind?”

“Since the shop is available immediately, I'd rather not return with you.”

She held her breath, waiting for an explosion that didn't come. He blinked. Confusion furrowed his brow.

“I thought the twins were planning a big to-do in your honor.”

“It's just in the planning stages and can be postponed for when I visit next.” At this point, she couldn't imagine when that might be. It would destroy her to see Quinn moving on with his life, possibly with another woman.

“Don't you want to say proper goodbyes?”

Tears threatened. She crushed the cloth napkin in her lap. “I need for you to trust me on this.”

Silence met her statement. Finally, he spoke. “This is your fresh start, Nicki. We'll do it however you want.”

Blinking rapidly, she managed a watery smile, grateful he wasn't choosing to be stubborn and challenge her decision. “Thank you.”

He picked up the sweet bun. “So, I wonder where we can find a good boardinghouse around here?”

Chapter Twenty-Four

N
icole had been gone a month.

Thirty-one days of battling misery every waking minute. The selfish part of Quinn clamored for control, demanding he go to Knoxville and beg her to come home. That wasn't the man he aspired to be, however. God's Word instructed him to put others' needs above his own. Authentic love didn't seek one's own good above another's.

While his conscience was clear, living without her was the most difficult thing he'd had to do.

Standing behind the wooden counter, Quinn surveyed his new store. Perhaps recreating the original one hadn't been his smartest idea. Everywhere he looked, he envisioned Nicole.

Nicole dusting shelves. Laughing with the old men in the corner. Wrapping up purchases.

A sigh escaped his downturned lips.

He turned to his new assistant, Donald. “I'll be in the office.”

The hardworking twenty-year-old looked up from rearranging the jewelry case. “Okay, boss.”

Stalking into the office, he slumped into the chair and extracted the letter from his jacket pocket. The paper was thinning at the creases, a result of his constant handling.

He'd been floored when Caleb had returned without her. Deeply hurt, too. Did he mean so little to her, then? Oh, he knew they'd said their private goodbyes in her barn. And a not-so-private one here on Main Street.

Had she known beforehand? Was that why she'd surprised him with that fierce, almost desperate hug?

As the days had crawled past, he'd come to accept that her decision had saved him. Watching her leave for what he'd thought was a temporary trip had ripped his heart out. He wasn't so sure he'd have been able to retain his dignity if he'd had to do it all over again, knowing it was permanent.

He sniffed the paper. Already her sweetly feminine scent was fading.

At least she'd taken the time to send this letter along with her cousin, explaining her need to seize the opportunities presented.

“Mr. Darling?” Donald hovered in the doorway. “Mr. O'Malley is here to see you.”

Hastily returning the letter to his breast pocket, he strode into the front area. Caleb was leaning against the counter.

“Is everything okay with Nicole?” Quinn pushed out. “Has she written to you?”

“Got a letter yesterday, as a matter of fact. She's fine. Business is picking up to the point she's contemplating hiring someone.”

His unease evaporated, leaving behind a hollow sensation. “That's good news.”

Apparently he didn't sound convincing, because Caleb arched a mocking brow.

“I want her venture to be a success,” Quinn said with more starch. “And I'm glad she's happy. That's what counts.”

Caleb grinned.

Okay, time to stop talking.

“The thing is—” Caleb leaned over the counter, lowering his voice “—I'm not so sure she is happy.”

“What do you mean?”

“She sounds lonely.”

Propping an arm along the silver-and-crystal case, Quinn ignored the compassion squeezing his chest. He'd been afraid of this.
She doesn't need me to rescue her. I'm not her protector.

“I'm speaking from experience when I say it will take time to adjust and make new friends. Has she found a church yet?”

“She's visited a couple but hasn't decided on one in particular.”

“And her lodgings? Is she content there?”

Caleb shifted to let another customer view the contents of the jewelry case. “The proprietress is a kind Christian widow. She's a substitute mother figure for Nicole.”

Another customer approached the counter needing help with the fabrics, and Donald was busy packaging vanilla extract. “I have to help my assistant.”

With a nod, Caleb waved a small paper scrap. “And I have to gather supplies for my wife.”

Quinn considered asking the other man to include his regards the next time he wrote Nicole, but decided against it. He didn't want her thinking he was pining away for her up here in the mountains. Even if that was exactly what he was doing.

* * *

With one final glance in the mirror to inspect her hair, which had blessedly grown out enough to brush her shoulders, Nicole went to the door to flip the open sign. Judging from the still, stagnant air inside her shop, it was going to be a scorcher. Her gaze snagged on a man and woman strolling along the boardwalk. With his jet-black hair and her fair good looks, they made a handsome couple. Behind them trailed two young boys, as neatly dressed as their parents, making faces at each other and giggling.

Regret wrapped its tentacles around her and squeezed every last drop of contentment she'd managed to grasp since her arrival. Not that she'd managed much. No matter how many self-directed speeches she made about focusing on her blessings, the distance from Quinn overshadowed everything.

A cold chill seizing up her insides, she rested her forehead against the glass.

I admit it, Lord Jesus. I was wrong. Prideful and foolish. I thought I had my life all figured out, that I didn't need Your direction. I got what I wanted, yet I'm miserable.

She missed her sisters and mother. She missed Patrick and Lillian. She missed her cousins—she wouldn't even mind hearing Caleb calling her Nicki. She missed home.

Oh, her landlady was nice, and she provided tasty meals. There was a charming flower garden behind the house where she could sit and sew in peace.

Business was steady. Already she was having trouble keeping up with the orders for new dresses, in addition to the alteration requests she'd received from both men and women.

Nicole had every reason to be happy. The fact that she couldn't escape this melancholy made her feel childish and ungrateful.

Missing Quinn was normal. He'd been an understanding boss, a wonderful, supportive friend, her protector and avenger. But after six weeks of not seeing him, shouldn't this aching hole in her chest have disappeared by now? Shouldn't the sadness, the desperation to be near him, have already faded?

Forgive me, Lord. I'll get over this soon, I hope. I really am grateful for Your provision, despite the fact I don't deserve it.

Frustrated, she retreated behind the counter to where her brand-new sewing machine was set up, along with an assortment of threads and needles and other supplies. She set aside the dress Mrs. Elizabeth Moore had ordered and reached for the pair of men's trousers that needed hemming. She was in the wrong frame of mind to create something out of nothing. Better to stick with mundane tasks.

Nicole had just finished when the door swished open. Hanging the trousers on the rack beside her machine, she ran her hands along her full skirts and turned to greet the customer.

The words died on her lips.

Quinn,
her
Quinn, was standing inside the door, hat in his hands and looking more handsome than she'd ever seen him. Glossy hair slicked off his forehead, cheekbones stark and pronounced, his hard jaw clean shaven and his light eyes steady on her.

Advancing on wooden feet, she almost pinched him to check if he was indeed real and not a figment of her imagination. “Quinn Darling, you are the last person I expected to walk through my door today.”

“I did promise to visit you.”

Mouth crooking up at the corner, his warm, soothing voice washed over her in waves of true bliss.

“You
are
real.” And he was here, in her store, close enough to touch. Somehow, she restrained herself.

The smile didn't quite reach his eyes. “Did you think you were dreaming?”

Clasping her wayward hands behind her back, she laughed softly, unable to hide her joy. “I'm very glad I'm not.”

Oh, the sight of his face was so dear. Precious. Her heart vibrated with unbridled happiness, and she nearly bounced on her toes in giddy excitement.

He nodded, assessing the space, inspecting the shelves on either wall and the two table displays in the middle. Walking past her, Quinn leisurely explored, touching a long finger to this fabric and that blouse. Nicole remained in the same spot, blatantly soaking up his every movement.

Finally, he pivoted and smiled that peculiar, not-quite-happy smile again. “You've done well for yourself. Caleb tells me business has been good.”

“Yes. I've been blessed.”

Nicole didn't wish to discuss business. She wanted...what? For him to whisk her into his arms and kiss her senseless? To fall on his knees and confess his undying love for her?

“Yes,” she blurted aloud.

His brow lifted.

A flush worked its way up her neck even as the truth registered, solidified within her soul. Quinn proposing to her was exactly what she wanted. Looking into his eyes, breathing the same air after too many days apart, it all became clear...why she couldn't shake the sorrow, the jealousy over the mere idea of Quinn with someone else, the envy she'd experienced while observing the family on the boardwalk.

She was in love with him.

Marrying Quinn, building a life and raising a family together—that was her true dream.

Another customer chose that moment to enter her shop. Nicole uttered a distracted hello. A muscle in Quinn's jaw twitched as he dipped his head in acknowledgment of the lady, who made a beeline for the ribbon rack.

Striding over to Nicole, he spoke in lowered tones. “I'll let you get back to work.”

“You're leaving?” she squeaked, panicked.

He couldn't leave. He'd just arrived. They'd barely spoken.

“Not yet. I've procured a room.” He named the same hotel that she and Caleb had lodged in. His hesitation, indeed his entire reserved manner, was at odds with his usual easygoing attitude. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“I'd like nothing better.” She gave him directions to the boardinghouse.

“I will pick you up at six o'clock.”

Emotions in a jumble, Nicole watched his retreating figure until he turned a corner. Today was going to be the longest day of her life.

* * *

Back in her rented room that evening, Nicole chose her favorite outfit, a lilac dress with tiny bows adorning the short sleeves and delicate black lace overlaying the skirt. With it, she paired black lace gloves and a filmy shawl. She wore her curls loose save for a single, sparkly hair clip on one side. Silver earbobs adorned her ears.

Picking up her reticule from the bedside table, she slipped it over her wrist and offered up a silent prayer for calm. The day had dragged. However, she couldn't recall a single exchange. Hopefully she hadn't offended any of her customers with her utter distraction.
Or sewed on the wrong color buttons. Or taken too many inches off Mr. Corelli's trousers.

Her legs didn't want to support her as she navigated the steep staircase to the lower level. The smell of Mrs. Keene's pot roast permeated the entry hall. Instead of reacting with hunger, her stomach rebelled.

How was she supposed to make it through the meal with Quinn studying her with his enigmatic, too-knowing regard? What if he guessed her feelings?

They'd both wind up embarrassed, that's what. He hadn't asked her to stay in Gatlinburg. Quite the opposite. He'd encouraged her to follow her dream.

He couldn't know her dream had changed. Quinn had affected the change, barreling into her life and challenging her to take risks, to let others see the real Nicole O'Malley.

At the heavy tread of boots to her right, she whipped her head around. The object of her turmoil appeared in the wide parlor archway, elegant and intimidating in his coal-black suit, his dark gaze doing a slow inspection of her.

He let out a soft whistle. “You are...well, words really wouldn't do you justice. Consider me speechless.” Closing the distance between them, he lifted her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles, the heat of his mouth burning through the lace.

At her swift intake, he released his hold and gestured to the wood-paneled door. “Shall we go?”

Passing onto the wide veranda, she chatted nervously about Rose's Café and their mouthwatering beef stew. “Unfortunately they don't have chicken and dumplings on the menu,” she said when they reached the boardwalk. “I know that's your favorite.”

Quinn held his arm out to her, and she settled her hand in the crook of his elbow, hard put not to edge closer to his side. The enticing scent of peppermint wafted over.

“I get enough of that at Plum's.”

Her gaze flashed to his profile. “You're not staying at my sister's?”

“I decided to rebuild the store pretty much the same as before. I moved back into the private quarters until my home is complete. The men I hired from Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge will start work next week.”

Although he continued to stare straight ahead, she glimpsed his slight frown.

“Is something wrong?” she ventured. “Have you changed your mind about the property?”

“It's not that.” Guiding her around an elderly man walking his dog, Quinn exhaled. “I'm simply wondering if my plans for a large home aren't excessive. After all, what do I need five bedrooms for?”

Nicole bit her lip. Quinn wasn't acting like himself. He seemed distracted and...sad.

Not about to mention his desire for a wife and children, she said, “You'll need them for when your family visits. Have they indicated when they might come?”

Curious about his family, she wondered if she might arrange a trip home at the same time. His sister, Tilly, sounded sweet, and she was curious whether his younger brother was anything like him.

“They are waiting for me to send word. I plan to see how construction progresses before I do.”

“I can hear in your voice how much you miss them.”

Quinn angled his head to look at her then, his probing gaze making her feel as if she were missing the key clue to a riddle. “Is that all you've deduced in my voice? That I miss my family?”

Mouth working, she stumbled over an uneven board. His free hand shot out to steady her.