Once Upon a Winter's Heart (12 page)

Emma didn't know what to say to that. More and more she felt like she was on a roller-coaster ride with this man. Up and down and up and down. She waited as he filled in the address information then signed the receipt and gift card. “That's all we need,” she told him. “The UPS guy should be here before long and it will get to your mom by Monday or Tuesday at the latest.”

“Thanks.” He continued standing there, with both hand palms down on the counter, just watching her.

“Anything else I can help you with?” She glanced over his shoulder to where an elderly woman was waiting with several books.

“As a matter of fact, you can.” He made a hopeful smile. “Let me take you to dinner on Saturday night.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I'm asking you out, Emma. Will you go?”

“Well…uh…yes.” She nodded eagerly. “I'd love to.”

“
Really?
”
He looked shocked.

“Yes. What time?” She smiled at the woman.

“Uh…is seven…uh…okay?” He still looked surprised, almost as if he thought she'd decline.

“Perfect.”

“Great. I'll pick you up at seven then.” He grinned. “See ya.”

On Saturday morning, Emma was a bundle of nerves. To think that she was going out with Lane tonight. But she was trying to act calm for Nona's sake.

“I guess Dad's dinner was a success last night,” she said as she set a bowl of hot oatmeal in front of her grandmother.

“What makes you say that?” Nona looked up with interest.

“Mom never came home.” Emma filled Nona's coffee cup. “I mean back here. I assume she slept in her own bed last night.”

Nona chuckled. “Praise be to God.”

Emma got her own bowl of oatmeal and sat down, waiting for Nona to say her usual blessing. Then, as they quietly ate together, Emma told Nona that she had a dinner date. “We have still have leftovers from cooking lessons with Dad,” she said. “But I can fix something—”

“No, no.” Nona held up a hand. “I put up with this when Saundra was here, Emma. But now that it's you and me, I want you to stop coddling me like an invalid.”

Emma smiled. “You're not an invalid.”

“I am feeling strong and well,
dolce
. Yes, I am sad sometimes. But when you love someone as I loved Poppi, you have a right to be sad, no?”

Emma nodded. “Yes, Nona. You have a right.”

“Now, tell me. Who is your dinner date? Is it a man?”

“As a matter of fact, it is a man.” Emma took in a breath. “It is Lane Forester.”

Nona's dark eyes lit up and she clapped her hands. “Oh,
dolce
, that is wonderful.”

“Really?” Emma was almost afraid to breathe. “But what about Anne?”

“What about her?”

“I think she's in love with Lane.”

Nona waved her hand dismissively. “Does not matter.”

“Why not?”

“Lane is not in love with her.”

“How do you know?”

“You just look at him,
dolce
. You can see it. Poppi knew it. So do I.”

“But Mom thinks they should get married. Anne does too.”

“Does not matter what they think. Lane knows what he wants. He has asked you to dinner,
dolce
. That is all you need to know.”

“But what about Anne? What about bad blood between sisters?”

“Oh,
cara mia
. I think you worry too much.”

Emma smiled. “I think you're right.”

“You know what Poppi would say, don't you?”

“Follow your heart?”

Nona patted her hand. “Yes. And not to worry so much! It is much better to pray than to worry,
dolce
.”

“I'll try to keep that in mind.” And throughout the day, that is exactly what she tried to do. Each time she felt worried, she prayed. And by the time she was getting ready for her date, she felt relatively relaxed.

Emma knew it was
a little redundant, and her mother would certainly not approve, but she dressed in the exact same outfit she'd worn for the fundraiser for Saturday night's date. But when Lane picked her up, he told her she looked beautiful and she could tell by the look in his eyes that he meant it.

“Thank you,” she said as he opened the car door for her. “You look very handsome too.” Although Lane wasn't dressed formally, he looked smart in his dark trousers and well-cut suede jacket.

He thanked her, and she took in a steadying breath as hurried around to his side of the car. She couldn't believe she was really doing this—having dinner with Lane Forester. It seemed like a dream.

“I'm so glad you agreed to go out with me,” he said as he drove toward town. “For some reason I was certain you were going to turn me down when I asked you.”

“Why?”

“A number of reasons.”

“Such as?”

“For starters, you told me yourself, the night we decorated the bookstore, you were soured on romance.”

“Yes, but I'm trying to adjust my attitude.”

“Besides that, it seemed each time I thought we were getting somewhere, you'd chill me out or shut me down. I couldn't figure you out.”

She pressed her lips together. “Well…that had to do with Anne.”

“You really believed I was interested in her?”

“I wasn't sure how you felt, but I knew she was interested in you. She still is.” Emma exhaled loudly. “In fact, when she hears about this…well, it will be awkward.”

“I'm sorry, Emma. Have I put you in a tough position?”

“A little bit.”

“But Anne will forgive you, won't she?”

“I don't know…I hope so.”

“She will, Emma. I know she will.”

“Yes…you're probably right.”

“For the remainder of the night, I want to make one rule. If you don't mind?”

“What's that?”

“We will not talk about or think about your sister.
Okay?
”

She made a relieved sigh. “Yes.”

“Now I want to know more about you,” he said as he turned onto Main Street. “I want to know
everything
about you.”

“Everything? All in one night? You must think there's not much to tell,” she teased.

“Well, hopefully we'll have more than one night to get acquainted. But tell me about yourself, what it was like growing up here, your college days, your job in Seattle, your ex-boyfriends.” He chuckled. “I want to hear it all.”

So as the evening progressed, Emma told him about how she often felt the misfit as a child. “At least in my own family. Mom and Anne were like two peas in a pod. I really related more to Nona.” She described her college days, which sounded rather uninteresting. She even told him how she got her heart broken once and how most of the guys were just plain disappointing.

“Although I think I might have a phantom in my closet,” she confided as he parked the car in front of the elegant Napoli Restaurant on top of the hill overlooking the town.

“So you
were
listening the other night.”

She laughed. “Well, my phantom is probably different than what you were suggesting. But I think it messes with my mind just the same.”

He went around to her door, reaching for her hand to help her out. “Did I tell you that you look beautiful?” he said in a slightly teasing tone.

“Yes, I believe you did. But don't hold back—feel free to express yourself.”

He chuckled. “Well, you
are
beautiful, Emma. And it feels good to be able to tell you. I wanted to say so before, but I wasn't sure you were ready to hear it.”

She laughed. “I've never felt beautiful,” she admitted as they walked up to the restaurant. “I always felt like the ugly duckling growing up. Anne was the beauty.”

“Like you said, it's in the eyes of the beholder.” He opened the door to the restaurant. “Do you like Napoli's?”

“I adore it.”

“I thought you would. Some people think it's old-fashioned, but I love it.”

Before long, they were seated and their conversation continued. But after a bit, Emma told him it was his turn to answer questions.

“Yes, of course. Ask away. I have nothing to hide.”

“Good…so do you mind if I cut to the chase?”

“Please, do.”

“I've asked myself dozens of times why a great guy like you is still single. If it's not presumptuous, will you please explain yourself?” She smiled hopefully.

“Absolutely.” Lane started in on a story of how he'd been equally interested in sports and academics in school. “I was kind of shy around girls in high school, then I got a college scholarship, as a result I took my studies seriously. Then I was very focused on my career and building a business. I was too distracted to do much dating.” He gazed fondly at her. “Besides, I was waiting for the perfect girl.”

“Me too,” she declared. “I mean, the perfect guy. Everyone told me I was setting my sights too high.”

He pointed to his chest. “Same thing. When I turned thirty, my mom started a gentle nagging campaign. She was worried I'd never find someone. About that time I met a beautiful woman…Brianna. And I suppose I was ripe to become totally smitten. A bit like poor Erik in
Phantom of the Opera
. I was beside myself with her beauty…so much so that I completely forgot to investigate her character or get to know her better.”

“Oh…”

“By then I was working with my business partner, a guy named Marcus—who was married with a baby on the way—and, well, we were pretty well established in our software design firm. Had some really good accounts. In other words, we were successful. So Brianna and I married, and I thought we were happy, or I told myself we were happy. She seemed happy. We had a nice home, good friends. But I did work a lot. Anyway…two years into the marriage, I found out that she was having an affair.”

“Oh, no.” Emma shook her head.

He nodded. “She was sleeping with Marcus.”

“Your partner? But he was married? With a child?”

“All of the above.”

“Oh…dear.”

“That's when I decided I'd had enough. I made the knee-jerk decision to sell my half of the business to Marcus. And I left Seattle and Brianna to take this job here. Last I heard, Marcus's marriage bit the dust and he and Brianna are still together. I just hope Roxie—that's Marcus's first wife—got a good settlement from him.”

“So that's why you were a little jaded about love and romance when you moved here?” she said slowly. “Why Poppi took you under his wing.”

Lane chuckled. “I can't help but think Poppi was grooming me.”

“For Anne?”

He shrugged. “Or for you. Who knows?”

They talked on and on, enjoying the food and the company and the wine. But finally Emma felt concerned for Nona. “I hate for this evening to end,” she said. “But Nona is home alone.” Now she told him about how her mom had gone back to her dad yesterday.

“Well, that's good news. But you're right. We should get you home.”

They continued talking all the way home, and she considered asking him in, but wasn't sure about it. And so when he walked her to the front door, she simply thanked him. “It was a perfect date,” she told him. “Beyond anything I ever imagined.”

“Then let's end it on a perfect note.” He leaned forward. “If you don't mind.”

“Not at all,” she whispered as she leaned toward him. Suddenly she felt herself melting into a kiss that was so full of passion and warmth and longing that she felt slightly breathless and weak in the knees.

“Perfect,” she whispered as they stepped away.

He nodded. “Perfect.”

On Sunday, Emma rose early. She felt as if she were walking in a sweet dream as she fixed her and Nona's breakfast and then got ready for church. However, as she drove into the church parking lot, she was not so sure. What about Anne and Tristan? Didn't Lane usually sit with them in church? How would Emma feel if he was doing that today? Why hadn't she asked him about it? She still had so many questions.

She waited as Nona slowly made her way out of the car, then, linking her arm in hers, they walked up to the church. They were about halfway there when Lane came out to meet them. Falling into step alongside Nona, he took her other arm in his. “Good morning, ladies,” he said cheerfully. “Can I escort you into the sanctuary?”

They thanked him and he led them in, and then the three of them sat in Nona's favorite pew. As the church filled up, Emma tried to ignore the looks that she got from Anne as well as her mother, who was sitting next to her dad. Fortunately her dad just smiled and waved. And once again, instead of worrying or obsessing, Emma decided to simply pray.

After the church service, as they visited with her parents, Tristan came over to talk to them. To her relief, he seemed completely oblivious to what was so obviously disturbing his mother. Anne was standing a fair distance from them, pretending to visit with a friend, but her eyes kept darting toward them, and the expression on her face was not a happy one.

However, Lane and Emma continued acting perfectly natural, as if there were nothing unusual about them being together. And soon they were exiting the church with Nona. Emma let out a big sigh of relief. “Glad that's over,” she said as they walked through the parking lot.

“Well done,” Nona told her. “And Anne will get over this. Probably much sooner than you expect.”

Emma wasn't so sure, but was glad it was over, and when Lane invited them to join him for lunch, Nona gladly agreed. Lane asked Nona to choose the place, and she told him that she wanted pizza.

“Then you shall have pizza,” he assured her. As he drove to Nona's favorite pizza shop downtown, he started to sing. “When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie…” Emma and Nona joined in.
“That's amore.”

On Monday, Emma still felt like she was walking on the clouds. Lane had visited her at Nona's house the night before and then called her again that morning, just to say hello and that he was thinking about her. Emma couldn't remember when she'd ever been so completely happy. Well, except for the Anne thing. That was the proverbial fly in the ointment. However, she was determined not to worry. She could imagine Poppi telling her to pray instead. And that was exactly what she was doing.

However, as she worked in the bookstore all afternoon, she had the distinct feeling that a confrontation was coming, almost like she could see the dark storm clouds gathering—right across the street at the Hummingbird Gallery. Okay, the clouds were just her imagination, but it would be so unlike Anne to do nothing. Emma just hoped Anne wouldn't march into the bookstore and throw a nasty hissy fit with customers watching on. That would be such a sad scene—especially on the eve of Valentine's Day.

Because it was Monday, the bookstore closed at five. And since Virginia's mother-in-law was still in the hospital and Cindy had to pick up her daughter from ballet, Emma had offered to close up shop. She was so relieved when the last customer left at two minutes before five. Hurrying to the front door, she was just turning the lock in the door when she saw a chic-looking figure darting across the street.

As much as she wanted to pretend she hadn't seen her sister, turn around, and go back into the shadows of the store, she knew she couldn't. Instead, she turned the lock and opened the door, stepping aside as Anne came in. Once Anne was inside, she locked the door again. And she pulled down the shade. “Hello,” she said cautiously. “You know that we're closed, but I suspect you're not here to buy a book.”

“You got that right.” Anne glared angrily at Emma.

Emma picked up a UPS box that had been delivered earlier, carrying it toward the back room and silently praying. She could hear the quickly clicking heels following right behind her. “I can tell you're upset,” Emma said as she set the box on a work table.

“Of course, I'm upset. In fact, upset doesn't even begin to describe it.” Anne slammed her designer purse on the table next to the box. “I am furious, Emma. I am enraged at you. And I have every right to be enraged.”

“Every right?”
Emma tilted her head to one side. “Can you explain that to me?”

“Oh, yes,” Anne seethed. “That's exactly what I plan to do. I cannot believe that you, my very own sister, have betrayed me like this, Emma. I lay my heart before you, I tell you what's going on, and you sneak around and stab me in the back.”

“Wait a minute.” Emma held up her hands. “How did I sneak around and stab you in the back?”

“I told you all about Lane and me. You knew that we were together. I warned you that you needed to back off, but did you listen?”

“What do you mean you
were together
, Anne?” Emma's hands were shaking, but she kept her voice calm.

“We were a couple, Emma. You
saw
us together—numerous times. And you know how close Tristan is to Lane. You could see what was going on here. And Mom told you to back off too. But did you listen? Did you?”

“But I—”

“
Listen to me now
!” Anne shouted. “You betrayed me, Emma. You swooped in here and proceeded to try to steal my boyfriend and—”

“That's not true.”

Anne narrowed her eyes. “Maybe it's not true yet. Maybe you haven't actually stolen him yet, Emma, but you've been trying. And just so you know, I'm going to fight you on this.”

“But, Anne, you don't understand. Let me—”

“I do understand, Emma. I understand that you are a lying, cheating, backstabbing, sorry excuse of a sister. And I hate you!”

“Anne…” Emma pressed her lips together. “How can you say—”