Small-Town Hearts (10 page)

Danny slid into the role seamlessly, a fact she'd worry about later. “You did.” He sent her a grin that said
What on Earth was he thinking?
in big, block letters before he closed the distance between them. He raised his encumbered arm in apology, his right hand gripping Meg's left. “Sorry. Don't have a free hand. You're in town for the summer?”

“Yes.” Denise answered, her voice edging tart.

Meg tried unsuccessfully to squelch how good that felt.

Danny nodded, at ease and comfortable, as if he'd come out on the winning end of a long, drawn-out struggle. Which he hadn't, but his attitude and stance suggested otherwise. He shifted his gaze to the little boy who'd had enough of adult conversation and was darting down the wooden walk,
bumping unsuspecting people as he barreled through. “Well, you're obviously busy…”

Brad growled and dashed after the boy, the Sunday morning stragglers impeding his way.

“And you—” Danny smiled down at Meg and squeezed her hand “—have a store to open.”

“I do.” Meg pulled herself from Danny's warm look with effort, even though she knew the locked gaze was manufactured for effect. She turned back to Denise, feeling suddenly sincere. “Denise, good luck with the new house. And the new baby.”

“Thanks.”

Walking away, Megan huffed out a deep, long, maybe-held-forever breath.

“What was that for?”

“Because I just this moment realized how glad I am not to be her.”

Danny turned, his gaze resting on the disgruntled young father who obviously had little control over his preschool son. “Really?”

“I was younger.”

“Hmm.”

“More naive.”

“Impossible.”

“Hey!”

He laughed. “You know, I get that you're business savvy, I've seen that from the beginning. But I'm only starting to realize the power behind the happily-ever-after thing that controls women's decision-making process.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” She stopped, turned and faced him toe to toe, pulling her hand free.

He lifted his eyes to where Brad and Denise now squabbled outside Maude's inviting entrance, then looked back at her. “You honestly considered settling for
that?”

“You don't know anything about it.” She pivoted, shoved her hands in her pockets and picked up the pace toward home.

He hurried after her. “Then tell me.”

“No.”

“Because?”

“It's none of your business. Look.” She turned back, wishing he didn't have the power to hit so many buttons. “Everybody makes mistakes. We all have a past. The worst thing I've done is be unlucky in love.” When he looked like he might comment, she raised a hand in silent request to allow her to continue.

“A lot of factors enter into romance, to love. Yes, I was younger, but not young. Yes, I wanted the dream, probably too badly because my friends had been getting married one by one. I've been a bridesmaid three times, and each time I wondered if that old saying about never being a bride was true, but you know what, Danny?”

He shook his head, his gaze quiet.

“I'm done with all that. I won't pretend I'm at peace with what happened, not yet anyway, but I'm totally done letting biological clocks and great smiles sway my common sense. I've been fooled, yes, but I refuse to be fooled again. Ever.” She punctuated the last word with a silent “even by you” look that he read loud and clear, his eyes saying he got the message. “So now I work, I plan, I choose. I'm the captain of my ship and no one—” she took a step forward and saw the glint in his eye, but decided she was strong enough to handle whatever he might send her way “—
no one
will steer me off course without my permission. Got it?”

“Completely.” He held her gaze, a slight shadow darkening the steadfast look he maintained before he smiled. “I actually respect your stance.”

“Right.”

She headed home once more and felt him fall into step beside her, comfortably close, but not close enough. Her hand
missed the warmth of his grip, those tight fingers, the arm-to-arm contact.

Time to change the subject. She adjusted her pace, drew a breath and decided to try to act somewhat sane, at least for the remainder of the walk home. “So, Danny Graham. What is it you do, exactly?”

T
ell her.

No way.

He couldn't, could he? Just blurt it out, here and now, walking along the street after she just threw down a challenge, drew a line in the sand?

Yes. Now. What are you waiting for?

Well, that was the question of the hour, wasn't it? He'd known all along that if he was successful, his mission would mess with her life, her goals, and here he was, ready and willing to take her down.

He'd half tell her.

He turned her way and tried not to stumble over the half truths he was about to spew. “It's kind of hard for me to say this, but you really need to know. I'm down here to scout out a retail site for my grandmother. For a candy store.”

She stopped dead, face flat before confusion crinkled her eyes. “And you saw no reason to tell me that?”

“Megan, I—”

“Before I rented you the apartment next door? Before I let you walk with me, talk with me…”

Watching anger and distrust shadow her features, he de
cided it wasn't the best time to remind her they'd done more than walk and talk.

And it still wasn't enough. Not nearly.

She strode ahead, one hand behind her back as if literally shoving him off. Then she stopped, turned and came back, indignation replacing hurt and confusion. “You rat.”

“Megs—”

“Don't ‘Megs' me, Danny Graham, not now, not ever. You're just like all the rest, only you're a little better off and more practiced, which only makes me like you less.” She turned away, a flip of those delightful golden brown curls her last word.

“That's not true.”

She whirled back. “It's so beyond true that it could easily become your Facebook status, and everyone…” she took a step closer “…who logs onto your page…” closer yet, a finger raised to jab him in the chest, not once but twice “…will understand what a bozo you are with one quick glance.” She looked very angry and way too cute for her own good.

“Megs, I didn't lie to you. I just didn't tell you why I was here, exactly.”

She waved a hand as she turned the corner to her store and their apartments, her footsteps on the wooden stairs sharp and staccato. “Lies of omission are still lies.”

“Meg…”

Slam.

The sharp crack of the candy store door left no doubt that Meg was done with him, at least for the moment. Possibly for the day. The week?

He refused to think in terms of forever because he never thought in terms of forever, at least not until he'd arrived in Jamison.

He stood stock-still for long beats of the clock, staring at the door, wavering on what to do.

He'd told her. At least in part. That was good, right?

You wimped out. Should have told her everything.

He would, he decided. Once she calmed down about this whole candy store thing, he'd confess who he was. Who his grandmother was. Surely that would help Meg understand his conundrum.

He headed to his door to gather his keys and get away from there, away from her, away from the stark look of condemnation he read in her eyes, knowing he, too, had deceived her. After he promised he wouldn't.

Would she hate him?

She couldn't.

Could she?

Rounding the corner of the house, a bevy of activity drew his attention to the Victorian-styled bird condo, peeps and chirps of tiny finches marking their devotion and industry, the work-together attitude that kept them forging on, moving ahead and singing all the while they built their nests.

He saw his family business that way, hard won and hard fought. Years of struggle mixed with years of prosperity to mark Grandma Mary's history. But they'd hung on, hung together, working through war years and bad economies.

“Ability is what gets you to the top. Character is what keeps you there.” Abraham Lincoln's inspirational words were one of Grandma's oft-used quotes, and Danny thought he'd done a decent job of achieving the drive and character his family worked to inspire. Seeing Meg's reaction, realizing he should have come clean from the beginning, made him see that the character aspects of the quote might still need work.

The old man's weathered gaze from church came back to him, the look he'd bestowed on Danny as he'd accepted the hymnbook.

He'd known, somehow.

Not who Danny was legally, but who he was spiritually. The wizened look had offered acceptance, knowledge and advice, with never a word spoken.

Danny ducked inside, grabbed his keys, climbed into the nondescript rental and backed out of the drive, distancing himself from Meg's distrust.

A heron rose up from a small creek bordering Route 19, the majesty of pterosaur-type wings a link with days gone by, things of old.

Heading south, he realized that maybe the clean blue and white hadn't been the best choice in fabric, and he'd never gotten Meg the promised walnut-maple twist roll.

He was a jerk, plain and simple.

 

Danny walked into an east-facing card and gift shop on Main Street in Wellsville about two hours later and came face-to-face with the same faded blue eyes he'd met in church that morning. “We meet again.”

The older man smiled, happy to see him, maybe happy to see anyone, the store way too quiet for a Sunday afternoon while people milled on the sidewalk, June's gentle weather beckoning. “Ayuh. I was just tellin' the missus that maybe we shouldn't open on Sundays anymore, that there wasn't enough business to make sense, but she's a stubborn old coot.”

“Am not.” The older woman stepped in from a small room beyond, her look saying she'd heard all this before. “And don't you go filling this young man's mind with all kinds of things. He's new around here.”

“And you know that because?” Danny shifted his attention to her.

“Maude McGinnity is one of my best friends.”

“Ah.”

“And she weren't gossipin', neither, our Maude doesn't do that, never did, but she was explaining to me how you came to be walkin' with Megan Russo this morning.”

Danny flinched, not wanting to consider the option of never walking with Megan again. She'd forgive him in time. Right?

Right up until you tell her the rest, about how you represent one of the biggest candy conglomerates this side of the Mississippi.

The woman swept him a glance, sighed deeply, then leaned against the wall.

Danny surged forward. “Are you okay?”

“Kate, you havin' one of them spells?” The old man struggled to rise, his joints uncooperative. Danny was uncertain whom to help first, but he figured if the elderly gentleman rose, they could both help the woman.

She straightened, the look of discomfort erased by a smile. “Nothing to get all steamed up about, boys. Sit down, old man, before you fall down.” She took the sting out of the words with a gentle pat to his shoulder, the look and touch meant to reassure.

Danny nearly sighed relief out loud, happy to avoid the drama of an ambulance call as he realized that neither of these two was in great health.

The old woman motioned him left. “Are you looking for a gift for someone?”

He should have been if he wanted to regain Meg's favor at any point in time. “Yes.”

“Your wife?”

“Not married.”

“Ah.” He and the old man both noted the heightened note in her voice, the sharp look of interest she shot Danny's way.

“Don't be matchmakin' on this young man, Kate McGee. He's not here forever and we don't need no more of our young folks traipsin' off to parts unknown.”

“Oh, piffle, Jed, you're just steamed because our Kathleen is the only one of ours that stayed hereabouts, but young folks need to go where the jobs are, where there's opportunity. You know that.”

“Bah.”

She rolled her eyes and turned back to Danny. “Now, about that gift.”

“Something pretty for a girl who loves old-fashioned things.”

Kate's look of satisfaction said his description came as no surprise, giving Danny another glimpse of small-town living and the light-year speed of information travel.

He walked to the far side of the store, noting that the darker wall color shadowed the sale space, making the store appear less inviting.

Kate McGee walked alongside him, her measured step obviously painful. “Dang hip is not to be trusted these days,” she grumbled, as she reached to the third shelf along the south wall. “This punched tinware is nice, and we've got it in all sorts of colors. That dark red is a favorite.”

Danny reached beyond the tinware to a ceramic bowl decked with hand-painted flowers, the colors reminding him of that material Meg had pointed out that morning. What had she called it? Tea-stained.

The bowl bore that same soft beige background, the smattering of blue flowers and green leaves reflective of the calico, but the bowl had tiny sprigs of white flowers as well, the white offering a hint of light to the more muted colors around it.

The effect was beautiful. Soft. Winsome. Meg.

“I'll take this.”

She nodded approval at his choice, then reached up, a hint of discomfort marring her features from even that simple movement. “There's more up there to match.”

Danny hesitated, then shrugged. “Just the bowl for now.”

“He ain't in
that
much trouble, Kate.” The old man chortled from behind the counter, his words spiking memories of Meg's look, her gaze, the distrust he'd placed there.

Reconsidering, Danny turned back to the display. “Maybe I should check out another piece or two.”

Kate grinned.

A creamer, sugar bowl and candy dish later, Danny watched as the elderly man worked uncooperative fingers to wrap each piece in tissue before placing them in thin, white gift boxes.

He leaned forward, unsure, but knowing he had to ask. “You folks ever think about selling this store?”

The woman looked surprised.

The man didn't. “Yup. More lately with how hard it is for us to get around, but there ain't a lot of people buying stores hereabouts. Least with the new business Walker Electronics is bringin' in, things should start gettin' better, but yeah.” He paused. “We've talked about it plenty.”

“I'm interested in buying it.” Danny watched their reaction go from interest to caution. “I've been looking for retail space here on Main Street, but I wanted something that faced east and there's nothing vacant on this side.”

“So you came lookin' for someone a little down on their luck?” The old man drew himself up, suspicion clouding his features.

“I did.” Danny faced him, determined to be totally up front. “But only because it seemed like it might work well for both of us. My family is prepared to pay cash for the site. We'd like to be in by September, and I know that's kind of a rush—”

“Can't be soon enough for me if the price is right,” the old man declared. He moved forward and held out his hand. “I'm Jed McGee and this here's my wife, Kate, but you know that already.”

Danny nodded and shook both their hands.

“What kind of price are we talking, young man?”

Danny named a price that made their eyes widen, and he could almost hear the lecture his father would give him later, knowing you never offered top dollar straight off.

But Jed and Kate McGee didn't have a lot of time left for games, and Danny didn't feel like toying with their future. While both appeared to have their ailments, their sweet na
tures belied any suffering they might be feeling, a great lesson in and of itself.

“Mother, you'd have time to get that hip fixed up if we didn't have to run the store every day.”

Kate nodded. “And that cataract surgery you been putting off.”

Danny's heart melted a little more. They'd put off surgeries that might help them because they couldn't afford time away from the business. “If you're interested, I can have my attorney draw up a contract. He can fax it to me and I can present it to you tomorrow.”

“You need thinking time, Kate?”

She eyed Danny, made a decision and shook her head. “Nope.”

“Me, either. We'd a done this years ago if anyone offered.”

Danny smiled and shook Jed's hand. “Then I'm glad no one did.”

“What are you planning to put in here?” Kate asked, her gaze curious.

Danny almost sighed. “A candy store.”

“But ain't you livin' alongside—”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Distress darkened Kate's features. “Does Megan know?”

Oh, she knew all right. Danny frowned and shrugged. “Yes.” He shifted his gaze toward the packaged gifts, letting his gesture explain further. “She knows.”

“She's worked hard up there,” the old man reminded them both. As if Danny needed reminding.

He nodded. “She has and she's got a great business. I'm hoping that my place won't have much effect on her store.”

“Come winter, the littlest drop in sales affects everyone,” John told him.

Danny knew that. He'd checked the local figures, and if
you were off the beaten path, the downturn shift in winter income became downright scary. Meg had explained the ice cream and festival business for that very reason, to help offset the slow months of January through March.

But seeing Jed and Kate, he understood that his grandma faced a similar challenge as she aged, and she was determined to give back to the community that fostered her mother's business and independence. He had no choice but to go on, regardless of the fallout. Knowing that made him feel like less of a heel, but only slightly. “I'm hoping we'll both thrive. And Jamison is such a tourist draw, Meg will continue to have interstate trade that we don't get down here.”

“Precious few people travel I-86 in the winter, and that's only if they have to, and few of them stop for anything other than gas,” John informed him. “Although I won't say we're not delighted to have that road nice and close like it is. Weren't easy for folks to get into this region for a long time.”