Home to Sparrow Lake (Harlequin Heartwarming) (5 page)

BOOK: Home to Sparrow Lake (Harlequin Heartwarming)
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Desperate to get her aunt talking about anything but Alex, Kristen asked, “How did your meeting go?”

Her aunt gave her a look that said she knew Kristen was avoiding. Then she said, “Dean Whitiker was very cordial, and of course he understood that I needed time to do other things.”

“So you’ll still be able to teach a few classes if you want?”

“He seemed amenable to the idea.” Her aunt looked up. “I see the window is fixed. What time did Chuck get here?”

“Actually, your handyman never got back to me.”

Appearing surprised, Aunt Margaret asked, “Then how—”

“Alex.”

“Really.
The chief of police fixed our store window? And how did that happen?”

Kristen explained, telling her aunt about their earlier encounter and then Alex’s showing up to replace the pane of glass.

“I do believe he’s sweet on you.”

“Is not!”

Her aunt laughed. “You’re certain of that?”

“Well, it wouldn’t matter if he was.” Kristen threw herself back into her desk chair. “I can’t get involved with anyone from Sparrow Lake.”

“Why ever not?”

Hearing her aunt’s indignant tone, Kristen thought she was on a roll, insulting people when she didn’t mean to. She tried to explain in a nonconfrontational way. “I have nothing against anyone here, but you know I’m leaving as soon as I find a new job in Chicago. I have to get my career back on track.” She would show everyone that she could do it. Her former bosses, the business associates who’d no longer had time for her, the friends who’d come to her emotional aid but had looked at her with pity. “I don’t believe in long-distance relationships. They never work out.”

“Relationships are more important than careers, sweetheart.”

“You couldn’t prove that by me.”

“Just remember that a job can’t take you in its arms for a hug when you need one.”

Her aunt, the romantic, Kristen thought. Aunt Margaret might have found her true love in Donald Becker, but Kristen hadn’t forgotten how Jason had abandoned her in her hour of need.

Much the same way her father had abandoned his whole family.

* * *

T
HOUGH
SHE

D
SWORN
she was going to leave the store early that evening, Kristen ended up hanging around long enough for one of the quilting classes to start. Gloria was teaching a beginner/intermediate session in the back and there were five women seated around the large table there. Kristen knew two of the women, but the others had probably moved to town after she’d left for college.

“This is Margaret’s niece, Kristen,” Gloria told them, her dark eyes bright. “She’s here to help her aunt with the store.”

Kristen nodded at Nellie Martin, an elderly woman wearing large black-framed glasses. She owned the consignment shop a couple of streets over. “Hi, Nellie, it’s good to see you again. I’ve come to love consignment stores.” She’d frequented a couple in Chicago where she’d gotten most of her designer duds at a significant discount.

“Well, then, drop by and we’ll get reacquainted,” Nellie told her.

Kristen moved on to the next woman at the large table, a mousy little middle-aged woman in a gray dress. Emily Auerbach was the mayor’s wife.

“How nice that you take classes here,” murmured Kristen, to which Emily merely nodded with a tight smile.

Emily always had been more than a little eccentric, as Kristen had realized when she was a kid. On Halloween one year, Emily had posted “Keep Away” and “No Candy Here” signs on her lawn. The next year she’d decorated. No signs. Still, one of Kristen’s friends had insisted Emily was a real witch, and all the kids had avoided her.

Gloria introduced her to one of the new women in town—Shara Lessley, a beautiful young African-American woman with a headful of tiny braids. The other was Laurie Jamison, a thin redhead. Kristen tried to connect descriptions with names so she could remember them. Even so, she would be lucky if her tired brain recalled anyone.

“Are you an artist like your aunt?” Shara asked.

Kristen shook her head. “Good grief, no. I’m a businesswoman.” She admired the gorgeous metallic printed fabrics Shara was working with. “Is that a quilt?”

“It’s going to be a quilted wall hanging.”

“You ought to learn to quilt,” Nellie told Kristen. “It’s not that hard. Just work on a simple square to begin with.”

“Or a place mat or pillow covering,” Gloria agreed. “I like to see a quilter take on a whole project to begin with, even if it’s small.”

“I don’t know,” said Kristen with a laugh, happy to realize the women were dedicated to their craft. Her aunt had told her that at least one person from Sew Fine’s classes won a ribbon at the county fair every year. “I’ve never so much as taken up a hem. I don’t think sewing is one of my talents.”

“Nonsense, everyone can sew if they try.” Gloria raised her brows. “And knowing something about quilting could help you with the business end of things. Why don’t you sit down and join the class?”

“That would be wonderful,” added Shara, the others nodding in agreement. “We could use some new blood. We’ve been hanging out together for a couple of years now.”

Then it was more like a quilting circle than a class, Kristen decided. She didn’t want to stay any longer, especially not tonight. However, she agreed to at least drop by the class again next week. Before she left, Gloria plunked a prepackaged kit of color-coordinated strips in her hands.

“What’s this?”

“Just take them home and play with the fabric, the colors and the designs.”

Kristen objected, “Well, I can’t just take this. I have to pay...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll write the kit down for the records, Ms. Businessperson,” Gloria told her.

“Well, okay...”

“Try it, you’ll like it.”

Gloria sure could be a compelling salesperson, Kristen admitted, heading home. Sew Fine was lucky to have her. Kristen even opened the package of material strips and spread them out on the bed before she went to sleep. In shades of blue and turquoise and contrasting green, they certainly were pretty. But not only was quilting out of her sphere of knowledge, it took too long to finish anything.

Longer than she would be in Sparrow Lake.

* * *

A
LEX
WASN

T
ONE
to give up easily when he wanted something. And it seemed he wanted to get to know Kristen Lange even more than he’d originally realized. Just trying to have a simple conversation with her was a challenge. He could only wonder what spending time with her would be like. Undoubtedly, she would dispute everything the way she had when he’d caught her breaking into Sew Fine.

If she knew about his current investigation, she wouldn’t be happy. And if she had accepted his dinner invitation, he would have felt obligated to tell her about it, considering her brother was involved.

Not that Brian Lange seemed like a bad kid.

Alex had seen how hard Brian was working in the store. And he’d heard Margaret sing the kid’s praises more than once.

So why was Brian looking for trouble with Matt Stapleton and Andy Eccles?

Nellie Martin had been the first to make a formal complaint. Someone had mixed a rainbow of clashing colors and styles on the consignment store’s mannequins. One was wearing lingerie on top of its outer clothing, while another sported a purple feather boa over what appeared to be a raincoat. He’d had to force himself to keep a straight face on that one. Women’s styles were so crazy at times, he hadn’t even been certain that mischief was afoot, and Nellie wore a pair of what seemed to be fairly strong glasses. He’d wondered if the aging woman simply had trouble with her eyesight and had dressed the mannequins in dim light, then had been horrified to see her work the next day. After all, there hadn’t been a break-in—Nellie had admitted she’d left in a hurry and may have forgotten to lock up.

But then the other calls started coming.

Old Mr. Fergus had risen one morning to find two panels of his picket fence had been pulled out of the ground and were lying neatly on his front lawn. What was he supposed to do? He was too old to put them back himself, and he couldn’t afford to hire someone to do the work.

Feeling sorry for the old guy, Alex had asked for volunteers at the department to help the man, and both Walt and Jack had agreed to put the fence back together again. While Alex’s officers worked, Mr. Fergus had speculated on who could have done the deed. He’d seen Matt and Andy and “that new boy” hanging around outside at dusk and had thought nothing of it at the time. But after the fence incident, he had wondered, making Alex wonder, too.

A speculation that had put the spotlight right on the trio as the incidents—and sightings of one or more of the three teenagers—had increased. Alex could only figure they were bored and looking for ways to entertain themselves. If he could actually catch them in the act, he could put the fear of the law in them, force them into choosing reparation and community service or make them go before a judge, something he really didn’t want to do. He simply wanted to change their direction into a more positive one before things got out of hand. Then he would have no choice. He would be forced to arrest them.

Truth be told, the night before he’d been going down the alley behind Sew Fine looking for signs of mischief.

Alex hadn’t been at all prepared to find it in Brian’s sister.

What a conundrum. He’d wanted to catch Brian in the act; he simply wanted to
catch
Kristen.

Two goals at odds with each other.

Though he’d known Kristen for less than twenty-four hours, he was certain that, if he arrested her brother, she would have nothing to do with him.

What to do?

CHAPTER FIVE

A
LEX
DIDN

T
APPROACH
her for a date again, but in the next few days, Kristen swore she saw him more than anyone other than her aunt or siblings. No matter where she was—home, store or just walking through town—she saw Alex cruise by her in the patrol car.

Slowly.

She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or flattered.

Then she found herself looking for Alex every time she was out on the street. And sometimes she looked out Sew Fine’s windows to see if she could spot a patrol car anywhere around.

That’s what she was doing late one morning the following week when her sister joined her at the window.

“What are you looking for?” Heather asked, scanning the area outside the store.

“Oh, nothing. I was just stretching my legs.”

“Huh. You’ve been doing a lot of that the past week.”

“I get tired of sitting so much.” Not wanting to talk about her paranoia over Alex, Kristen started back to the office area.

Right on her heels, Heather said, “Then get away from that computer and start working in the store.”

“I only know a little about quilting.”

“You can learn more. That’s why you’re taking Gloria’s class, right?”

“I’m not exactly
taking
it. I’m just checking things out. If I understand the classes and what they provide for customers, I can market them better.”

“Whatever. It’s a smart move. You never know, you might be ready for Aunt Margaret’s advanced session in no time.”

“That’s very hopeful of you.” Kristen laughed. “I’m not quite ready for art quilts yet.” She thought about her aunt’s retirement. “Is Aunt Margaret going to keep teaching here at the store now that she’s retiring?”

“As far as I know, she wants to continue.”

“But what if we expand and there are more people for classes?”

“We can hire more teachers.”

Knowing her sister had made some beautiful quilts, including one for her, Kristen asked, “Would
you
want to do a class?”

Heather blanched. “Are you kidding? I’m already working full-time and going to school part-time. And somehow I have to make extra time for the twins every day. If I was going to do anything else, it would be outside. I can hardly take care of my own garden.”

Which Kristen knew was important to her sister, who was studying to be a horticulturist, specializing in sustainable landscapes.

“Relax, already. I was kidding, Heather. Like you say, we can get more teachers.”

“There are several women who come here who have been quilting forever.”

“Then why do they keep taking classes?”

“To socialize. They’ve turned it into more of a quilting circle. Everyone brings potluck. So the women eat and talk and work on their quilts. Sometimes they choose to work on group projects. You know, if someone is having a baby or getting married.”

Reminded of Jason, the man she’d thought she would marry, Kristen turned away, saying, “Sounds like they have a good time.”

If not
her
idea of a good time, she thought, walking back to her desk. Before her personal financial crisis, she’d enjoyed going to plays and museums and dinners with her friends. Which went to prove how much she
didn’t
belong in a small town. She didn’t mind observing a few classes but she didn’t want to be part of a quilting circle—she wanted her old life back.

And right now, she wanted to eat. It was lunchtime, and she wasn’t about to miss another meal. Grabbing her shoulder bag, she set off through the store to the front door. “I’m going to grab some lunch,” she told Heather. “You want me to bring something back for you?”

“Thanks, but I brought a sandwich.”

Kristen knew she should have done the same, but she hadn’t even thought about it. A holdover from her old life where she’d had lunch out every day. She couldn’t afford to keep doing that, so she needed to make sure the fridge was stocked with things she could eat. And no more mac and cheese for her or she wouldn’t fit into her secondhand designer suits, which she would need to wear on interviews. In the meantime, she decided to check out the family restaurant directly across the street.

Thinking she should have a salad, Kristen mused about what kind of dressing she would get as she checked the street for moving vehicles before crossing in the middle of the block. A siren went off nearby, but she paid it no mind as she tried to decide if she should eat in or take her meal back to the shop.

“Miss Lange, wait a minute!”

Her foot froze on the curb.

She knew that voice.

Turning, she saw Alex Novak getting out of his patrol car. He’d switched off the siren, but the light bar was still flashing. Her pulse fluttered at his approach.

“Chief,” she said, responding in kind to his calling her Miss Lange. “What can I do for you?”

He was pulling out an official-looking pad and a pen. “You can cross at the corner next time.”

“What?”

“You were jaywalking.”

He had to be kidding. “This isn’t the big city!”

“No matter. There’s a town ordinance against crossing in the middle of the street. That’s why we have those nice white lines at every corner, to give you a safe place to cross.”

“But I
was
safe,” she said reasonably. Maybe if she kept her voice moderate and friendly this time, he would back off. “There weren’t any vehicles coming. I checked. In fact, there aren’t any now.” Town traffic was moderate at its worst.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to pay a one-dollar fine anyway.” He started filling out the ticket.

“One dollar?”

“Yep.”

Reason lost out to irritation. Why was he doing this? And how did he happen to be here at the exact time she went out to get lunch? Was he trying to persecute her because she wouldn’t go out with him? Is that why she’d seen his patrol car crawl by so often over the past week? So he could find a way to irritate her for refusing his invitation to dinner?

Crossing her arms, she glared at him. “I won’t pay it.” She wasn’t going to throw away even one dollar because he had an issue with her decision to not see him. “This is ridiculous.”

“Let me get this straight. If I write a ticket for one dollar, you won’t pay it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive!”

“All right, then.” He actually smiled as he pulled out his handcuffs and indicated she should hold out her hands.

“I will not.”

“Right now, you’ve only committed an infraction subject to a small fine by jaywalking. But unless you cooperate, I’ll have to add resisting arrest to the charges. Then you’ll have to go before a judge.”

“Oh! I never—”

“Me neither.”

Kristen was horrified. Townspeople were stopping to watch the spectacle, and they were tittering at her plight. She recognized several people she knew, including Emily Auerbach. Undoubtedly the mayor’s wife would make a big deal of this. And Heather was standing in front of Sew Fine, her expression alternately shocked and amused.

Indignant, Kristen held out her hands, and Alex locked the handcuffs around her wrists, then said, “Now if you’ll come with me...”

She tucked her chin into her chest so she wouldn’t have to look at any of the bystanders and rushed toward the patrol car. He opened the back door and put his hand on her head. She ducked away from him and clunked the side of her head on the metal frame.

“Ouch!”

“I was trying to avoid that happening,” Alex said, but he was grinning at her.

Refusing to be baited, she slid into the backseat of a police car for the second time in less than a week. She couldn’t believe he thought this was funny. Or anyone else. She heard the chuckles and joking comments around her. Small towns were supposed to be friendly. Kristen choked back a sound of frustration as the patrol car moved down the street, past residents who were trying to get a better look at her.

She simply wasn’t feeling the love.

* * *

H
E
DIDN

T
KNOW
what made him do it.

Alex knew he was going to hear about this—probably from everyone, including the mayor—but he didn’t care. He hadn’t been able to figure out another way to get to know Kristen better, and when he’d seen her cross the street illegally he just hadn’t been able to help himself.

“Comfortable back there?”

Kristen made a rude noise in response.

“The jaywalking infraction and fee are listed on the town books,” he told her, lest she think he was making this up.

Owen had explained that it was to protect seniors and kids, the violators most vulnerable to getting hit by a moving vehicle. Neither seniors nor kids wanted to part with their dollar, so jaywalking had gone way down after the possible citation went on the books. Alex had never enforced the law before, but he hadn’t been able to resist doing so. Now, at least, he had Kristen’s full attention.

“Where were you going when you crossed illegally?” he asked.

“To the restaurant directly across from Sew Fine. I had no idea you had a rule against it.”

“It wasn’t a rule against your getting something to eat.”

“Well, you didn’t let me, did you? So you’re honestly going to take me to the station because I won’t pay the fine?”

“I never said that.”

“Then where are you taking me?”

“To do a little community service.”

“Entertaining you is considered community service?”

He laughed. “Nope. That’s just a bonus.”

A minute later, he pulled up to the Sparrow Lake Community House, a two-story building with terraces on both levels overlooking the lake. Opening the rear door of the vehicle, he helped Kristen get out, then he removed the handcuffs.

She rubbed her wrists as if the metal had chafed them. “I don’t understand what we’re doing here.”

“Good works. Your alternative to paying the fine. I hope you don’t object to that, too.”

She frowned at him but followed when he headed for the entrance to the building. He went straight to the kitchen, which was at the end farthest from the lake. Two gray-haired women wearing dresses and sensible thick-soled sandals were filling one of three cardboard boxes.

“Kristen,” Alex said, “Have you met Nellie?”

“Of course. I used to live here, remember. How are you doing, Nellie?”

“Pretty well. It’s nice to see you again. Though I thought you were coming by my consignment store.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it there soon.”

Alex relaxed a little.

Kristen was smiling as she informed him, “I know Louise, too. She works part-time at Sew Fine.”

“Kristen!” Louise’s dark face lit up and she laughed with delight. “You’re here to help Alex deliver the meals! Bless your sweet heart.”

“Yes, the meals,” Kristen said, moving closer to take a better look at the filled boxes.

“We have a couple of dozen seniors around town who aren’t as mobile as some of us are,” Louise explained. “So a bunch of us with too much time on our hands take turns providing them with a good meal every day.”

Nellie said, “We call this the Sparrow Seniors Soup Kitchen.”

“Not that we actually serve soup,” Louise quickly added.

“We do sometimes.”

“Only in the winter, though.”

The women looked annoyed with each other until Kristen said, “This is really wonderful of everyone involved.”

“And wonderful of Alex to fill in for our driver at a moment’s notice.” Louise shook her head. “Poor Bernie called in sick an hour ago and we didn’t know what we were going to do since Nellie doesn’t drive anymore. And I never learned.”

Still wondering how anyone not living in a big city got by without driving, Alex said, “No problem.” His gaze lingered on Kristen’s face. For once, she wasn’t frowning at him. “I’m glad to help out. That’s a great thing about living in a small town, having a sense of community that the big city doesn’t have.”

He noticed Kristen’s lips tightened a tad. Then she relaxed and asked, “What can I do?”

Louise handed her a clipboard. “Here’s the list of homebound seniors and their addresses. It also tells you if there’s a special meal. A few of our seniors are vegetarians. And one couple keeps kosher. All of their lunches are marked and are in this smaller box.”

Looking over the list, Kristen said, “Okay, I can keep track.”

Alex placed the smaller box on top of a big one. “I’ll be back to get the other box in minute.”

“No need,” Kristen said. “I can get it.”

She impressed Alex by picking up the box as if it weighed next to nothing. “You work out.”

“Just keep that in mind,” she muttered, leading the way out of the kitchen.

“Bye-bye,” Nellie called after them.

“And thank you both,” Louise added.

Alex followed Kristen, admiring the way her hips swayed gently. Rather than a suit, she wore a dress today, something less rigid and more feminine in a print—blue on white, the blue the same shade as her eyes. And her strappy heels made her legs look long and gorgeous.

When they got to the patrol car, Alex said, “Let’s just put these in the backseat.” He wedged the boxes against the vehicle and opened the door.

She slid her box inside. “Where am I supposed to sit?”

“Next to me.”

“In handcuffs?”

Alex juggled the boxes and got them both in the backseat. “Not if you continue to be cooperative.”

She gave him a searching look. “How long did it take you to come up with this plan?”

“What plan?”

Raising her eyebrows, she grabbed the clipboard and walked around the squad car. Alex swallowed his smile as he slid into the driver’s seat. She was a smart cookie. He wasn’t surprised she’d figured him out.

Now he had to find a way to keep her from thwarting his attempt to get to know her better.

BOOK: Home to Sparrow Lake (Harlequin Heartwarming)
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