High Plains Hearts (8 page)

“Not exactly the traditional Christmas colors,” she noted.

He nodded. “But at night, when they’re all glowing, the scene is rich and spectacular. Those colors remind me of the three kings—now here I go getting sentimental about Christmas, but I remember three gigantic Wise Men Mom always had inside the front door. One had a turquoise robe, one a purple robe, and one a green one. And each was highlighted with gold.”

“So these colors remind you of those Wise Men?” she asked.

“They sure do.” His mouth broke into a wry grin. “Then one memorable Christmas my sister and I came flying in the front door, covered with snow. As soon as our boots hit the tiled floor, the rest of us hit the floor, too. We crashed right into the display. Broke Melchior’s head off, gave Balthasar a ding in his elbow, and took a chunk out of Gaspar’s foot.”

“What did your mother do?”

He laughed. “Replaced those plaster statues with brass ones. She said the next time we did something like that, we’d be the ones with the gouges.”

“She sounds like a neat lady,” Tess commented.

“She is.”

She could smell the coffee even before they reached the door. She wrinkled her nose, and he chuckled.

“The aroma is a bit strong when the roaster’s going. For some it’s better than perfume. Others would rather have a face-to-face encounter with a skunk.”

He guided her inside the store. The building was made of rosy brick and smoked glass, a combination that shouldn’t have worked but did. She said as much.

“I wish I could take credit for it, but it has to do with an argument between the contractor and the architect. I don’t know all the details of it, but it sure did make for a striking building,” he explained.

The interior picked up the same color themes, pink and gray, she noted as her eyes began the slow adjustment to the dimmed lights after the bright sunlit glitter of the snow outside.

And there she was. Faith. Looking just as zany and happy as she had in Angel’s Roost. Tess was relieved to see she wasn’t holding a sign advertising “World’s Most Heavenly Coffee.”

He hadn’t lied when he said Panda’s had a place for her. In a little sheltered alcove off to the side of the entrance, she held court. Her nook was lined with pink and green flowered tiles that matched the colors in her face and dress exactly.

And below it, a discreet card with carefully written letters done in a flowing calligraphic hand that said merely “Angel’s Roost” and her address.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” she protested. “You own her.”

“As much as one can, I guess. We had the card made, and I’m glad we did because we get many comments on the angel and questions about where we found her. Having the card there frees up my staff from those endless questions about where we got her, are there others like her, what kinds of things are at Angel’s Roost, and on and on.”

“I wish!”

“Truly Faith has generated a sizable interest since she arrived. We’re delighted she’s here.”

She walked over and straightened Faith’s halo, which was once again tilted. “I miss the old girl,” she said. “And I think Cora does, too. She used to wrap around Faith when the late-morning sun poured in through the window and take her morning snooze. Now she just sprawls in the space.”

“Maybe she’s enjoying having it all to herself,” he suggested.

“Who knows what Cora thinks? Her mind doesn’t operate the same way mine does, that’s for sure. I think her brain operates mainly on a need basis: ‘I need food; I need a nap.’ ”

He led her back through the dining area. Most of the seats and booths were filled. Mixed in with the college crowd were families, people on their breaks from work, and some older women sharing a chocolate concoction that looked as if it had a week’s worth of calories.

As they went through the swinging doors into the kitchen area, a tall, gangly young man stopped Jake. “Dude, I’ve got five finals this week. I cannot believe it. Cannot. So I’ve got to, like, cut back on my hours this week. Majorly. Is that cool?”

Tess bit her lip to avoid laughing. This youth was obviously the same one who had told Jake, “Your big machine has gone blooey.” Jake had nailed the student’s inflections down to the very last detail.

She glanced around while Jake and Todd, as his name turned out to be, hammered out the workweek schedule. The kitchen was spotless. Chrome and glass gleamed. The cups were neatly aligned inside glass-fronted cupboards, and the countertops sparkled like those on television advertisements.

“So what do you think?” Jake asked, rejoining her after having finished talking with Todd.

“Is it always this clean and shiny back here?”

“Todd. He is an absolute clean freak so I let him sanitize his little heart out. Panda’s always earns top ratings by the health department, and I value that highly.”

She nodded. She’d seen the scores published in the newspaper, and it always made her cringe when one of her favorite eateries was given a low mark.

He led her to a large barrel-shaped machine. “This baby is the roaster. I’m the only shop in town that has one of these. It used to be that if you offered freshly ground coffee, you were on the cutting edge. That’s old news. Now people are discovering how rich and tasty freshly roasted coffee is, and that’s one of my major attractions here—besides Faith, of course.”

“Of course,” she murmured.

She walked around the impressive machine. “Is it fixed now?”

“Yes. Cost me an arm and a leg. I had to fly the certified repairman in, but it was cheaper than packing the machine up and freighting it to Minneapolis for warranty work. Besides, then I wouldn’t have it while it was on its way, being fixed, and sent back.”

“I didn’t realize how competitive this business is.” She frowned. “To have your entire business revolve around a roaster …”

“Well, I like to think it’s more than that. Panda’s offers some terrific food, too, especially desserts and now sandwiches. Speaking of which, are you ready for dinner?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Her sandwich was a masterful creation of sun-dried tomatoes, sprouts, and some interesting cheeses she’d never heard of before. He insisted that she try a new dessert, chocolate cake drizzled with pastel-blue mint syrup.

He disappeared into the kitchen with it and came out a few moments later, bearing it as if it were a royal gift of gold.

She smiled as she saw what he had done. Topping it was a sprinkle of those tiny white angel candies.

“Give me your opinion, please,” he begged as she ate the first forkful. “Do the angels add anything to it?”

She gave him her response, which was enthusiastic. He sat back in the seat, satisfied.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said. “I hope now I’ll see more of you here.”

“I’ll certainly try harder. But the problem is, I just don’t get down to this part of town very often.”

“I know what you mean.” He crossed his arms over his chest and lapsed into unhappy thought for a while. “This is part of my problem.”

“That I don’t get to this part of town?”

“Well, sure, but I mean the way this town is divided into two clear business parts.” He motioned to the others seated around them. “I don’t know if I can give all of this up. I don’t know if I should. Panda’s is doing well here, but can it sustain itself? What if someone else gets a roaster?”

“Oh, it can’t be as simplistic as that,” she protested. “There’s an ambiance here. And you said yourself that you’ve developed a clientele.”

“Sure. But look at them. For the most part this is their section of town. Maybe the college students would follow me downtown since the university is as close to downtown as it is to the End. But maybe not.”

He pushed his chair back and stood up. “But the fact of the matter is that it’s been a bright and beautiful winter day, and I’m with a bright and beautiful woman, and I don’t want to talk about anything that is not bright and beautiful. Let’s go!”

She hastily swallowed the last of her coffee and wiped her lips. “Where are we going?” she asked as she shrugged into her coat.

“Shopping!”

S
he tried to object as he bustled her into the car. “But I don’t have any money with me. I’m not ready to do my shopping. I haven’t given it any thought. I don’t want to go to the mall on a Saturday.”

The truth was that the last reason was the real one. She abhorred going to the mall on the weekend, especially when it was busy. And the first Saturday after Thanksgiving, the mall was going to be wild, especially as people began their Christmas shopping in earnest.

He apparently didn’t hear anything she was saying, or he chose to ignore it. Instead he began singing “The Twelve Days of Christmas” as loudly as he could.

“ ‘Six geese a-laying—’ ”

“I said I don’t want to go sho—”

“ ‘Five gooooooolden rings!’ ”

She gave up and glared out the window. She hated the mall, absolutely, completely, totally hated it. She had to carry her coat because she was too hot with it on. And if she bought anything, then she had to carry that as well as her coat and her hat and her mittens and her purse. Her arms ached at the thought.

And her feet got sweaty in the mall, and then she’d climb into her unheatable van where her toes froze into ice chunks on the way home because they’d been wet inside her boots.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. He drove right past the mall.

“Um, Jake, the mall—?”

“ ‘Four calling birds,’ ” he warbled. “ ‘Three French hens—’ ”

“You went by it already. Jake, Jake.” She tugged on his sleeve. “It was back there.”

“ ‘Two turtle doves and a parrrrrtridge in a pear tree.’ ” He flung his right arm out in a triumphant finale. “Sorry, Tess—did you say something?”

“The mall was back there. You drove past it.”

“You wanted to go to the mall?”

She could have throttled him. “You said you wanted to go shopping,” she reminded him, her words measured and spoken with a calm she didn’t feel.

“You don’t strike me as the mall type,” he said. “Do you want to go? I can turn around, although I must admit this surprises me. This is a side of you I’ve not seen before.”

She couldn’t tolerate it any longer. She growled at him. Bared her teeth and snarled.

“Okay,” he said, whistling through his teeth. “We won’t go to the mall.”

She rolled her eyes so hard she thought she’d pulled some kind of eye muscle. He was infuriating.

But he put on his turn signal and swung off onto a frontage road.

Her curiosity got the better of her. “What’s out here?”

He pulled into the parking lot of a large brick building. It seemed nondescript until he drove close enough for her to see the front of it clearly.

“Welcome to the Animal Kingdom,” she read. “Oh, I’ve heard of this. It was mentioned in the paper, but I’ve never been here before.”

“You have to get out more often,” he said as he switched off the ignition and opened his door.

His comment stung a bit. She was a downtown businesswoman as well as a member of the mayor’s task force on rejuvenating the city’s heart. Not only didn’t she have the time to visit every business in town, but her loyalties were firmly on the side of downtown. Whenever she could, she patronized those businesses in the heart of the city.

She knew there was truth in what he said, though. It was almost too easy to let herself cocoon in the downtown district, what with Nativity half a block away and a grocery store only a few blocks past that. Most of her clothes she bought from mail-order catalogs and had them delivered to her home. She was well on her way to becoming a hermit if she didn’t watch it.

She trailed after him as he strode across the lot. Snow that hadn’t been scraped off by the plow crunched under her feet.

Just as a few well-chosen words were about to escape concerning men who walked ahead of their companions, he stopped and waited for her to catch up. “I thought you were right beside me! This is embarrassing—I’ve been talking away to you, and here I am, jabbering to myself. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you weren’t with me. I’ll be more considerate—I promise.”

The words died on her lips. He was too good.

She stopped to read the sign on the door: “We do not sell animals here. We recommend you visit your local humane society.” Below that, the address of the animal shelter was lettered in neatly.

“That’s great!” she said, feeling more enthusiasm for the visit. She was an avid supporter of the humane society.

Her eyes widened at the sight that met her inside. It was a warehouse of pet supplies that stretched wall to wall and floor to ceiling.

Jake clutched her hand. “Help me pick out some gifts for a very special young lady.”

She fell easily into his game. “Tell me something about her.”

“Well, she’s about this big—” He carved in the air a shape the size of a small calf. “And she has lovely gray hair and white whiskers and an attitude that tells me she doesn’t suffer at all from low self-esteem.”

“I see. And you were thinking of getting her—?”

“Something edible.”

They located the cat section, and Tess’s eyes widened at the aisles of cat treats. They lined the shelves in bags and boxes and cartons of many differing sizes and shapes, and they came in an even greater variety of flavors.

“Fish Medley. Poultry Delight. Beefy Bouquet. Halibut Hearties,” he read. “Whatever happened to tuna, chicken, and beef?”

“Well, it’s not that easy. Apparently combo meals have come to kitty land. You’ve got choices here of tuna and liver”—she shuddered—“or salmon and chicken on this row, or, ooh, now this sounds good: mackerel and cod with cheesy cheddar bits.”

“Actually they do sound appealing.” He picked up a foil packet and studied it. “Hey, this one even cleans their teeth. Like dog bones but for cats, I guess. Wouldn’t that be neat, if you could just eat a snack, and you wouldn’t have to get up and brush your teeth because the snack’s already done it for you?”

“Now there’s something for your cook to work on!” she said.

“Which do you think Cora would like the best?” He walked a bit farther down the aisle and picked up a diamond-shaped package. “Here are some herbal treats.”