Small-Town Hearts (8 page)

He took her hand.

“Danny.”

“Stop.”

She stopped. Breathed. Glanced up.

He didn't look amused. Or teasing. He looked downright, gut-wrenchingly sincere. He glanced down to their joined hands. “This just feels right. Doesn't it?”

The fact that it did only scared her more.

“Megan?”

She bit her lip and glanced down before bringing her gaze back up to his. “Yes?”

“Trust me.”

She winced inside, then dropped his hand. “Wrong words, Danny.” She continued walking through the village, the early evening sounds of kids at play and summer birds a wonderful combination of old-school, small-town warmth.

He followed, hands thrust in his pockets. She glanced back and saw his face, read his look and tried to smother the feeling of anticipation his expression inspired. Despite his humor, his teasing, his easygoing nature, she suspected Danny Graham generally got what he wanted, when he wanted it.

But she was off-limits.

Sure you are,
an inner voice scoffed.
You totally melted into that kiss. You think he couldn't tell that?

Another glance back said she hadn't fooled him a bit. It was there in his measured walk, his quiet appraisal, his “she'll come back to me if I give her time” magnetism.

Megan shrugged it all off. She was beyond the magnetic phase of romance. Totally. As long as she didn't gaze at him too much. See that smile. Meet those eyes. Remember that kiss.

But she couldn't help remembering it, and that didn't bode well. Not well at all.

 

“Danny! You came over!” Ben charged forth as soon as they turned up the paved driveway of the house, his happiness unabashed. Danny grinned back, glad that Ben was openly happy to see him, and wondering what he was thinking to corner Meg like that.

Except he'd do it again in a heartbeat if he had the chance.

But after seeing the vulnerability in her face, her eyes, he couldn't take a chance on playing her for a fool. Not knowing the full truth about him wasn't right. He should tell her who he was, let things fall where they may. But she might hate him. Correction:
Of course
she'd hate him. She was a businesswoman, right down to the toes. He admired that about her, her willingness to do whatever it took to maintain a strong business in the face of a tough economy. Few people had that stamina.

Megan did.

And he stood poised to take it all away from her because, as cute as her store was, brand names like Grandma Mary's held them in good stead throughout the Northeast and mid-Atlantic states.

Danny swallowed a sigh and reached out a hand to Ben. “Are we ready for a win?”

“Y-yes! A-Rod is bustin' loose and Jeter's the—the—man!”

“You've got that right.”

“Danny?”

Danny reached out to shake the hand of an older man, tall, broad and in his midfifties. “Mr. Russo?”

“Adam, please. You got her to come?” Megan's father leaned his head in Megan's direction, a brow shifted up.

“Under duress, but, yes, although we nearly lost out to fudge preparation.”

Adam shot him a quick look. “Employing diversionary tactics, is she?”

Danny grinned. “Yes, sir.”

“And you counterattacked?”

“Played the guilt card, sir.”

“You realize that she's surrounded herself with an invisible force field?”

“I've been bounced off once or twice. Obviously a slow learner, sir.”

Adam's look of amusement softened a hair. “And you understand the shield was created out of necessity, right?”

“Duly noted. Is this where you threaten me bodily harm if I break her heart?”

Adam sent him a look that wasn't close to amused. “She's had enough of those. Partially her fault, but mostly not. She's totally up front and honest. And sometimes that's been her undoing. I'd really like someone who appreciates those qualities. A refreshing change, if you get my drift.”

Oh, Danny got it all right. And then some. Add her father to the list of people who would outright hate him when they realized who he was. What he was doing there.

“Danny! The game's on!” Ben lumbered their way, his
warm smile a welcome mat. “Mom's got more f-food in the kitchen.”

“Well, let's go, big guy.” He nodded to Adam. “You need help bringing those in, sir?”

Adam shook his head. “I've got 'em, thanks. And you've got a big admirer in my boy here. Ben loves having another Yankees fan around.”

“I see that. And since your sister was too frugal to put in cable before this…” He shot a glance to Meg to see if she was listening. Her rolled eyes confirmed that for him. “…I won't have it for five more days. That's the entire Tampa Bay series and half the Boston games.”

“Well, feel free to come by and watch them here,” Megan's mother offered, as they entered the kitchen through a back door. “Ben and Adam love a good game. The more the merrier.”

Megan shot her mother a “what are you thinking” look that Danny intercepted. He grinned at her purposely. “I love homes with open-door policies. My parents are like that, too. Everyone's welcome. Just one big, happy family.”

Meg huffed. He smiled, knowing he shouldn't tease her, but totally unable to resist a little fun at her expense. “So far I'm holding my own with your parents and your brother, Megs. Three out of four.” He nodded toward the big-screen TV. “In baseball terms, I'm batting seven-fifty. Pretty solid.”

She kept her gaze trained on a perfectly grilled hot dog. “If I was coaching you'd be on the first bus back to Scranton, rookie. Minor leagues, all the way. Way too predictable for big-league pitching.”

He laughed and filled his plate, an odd feeling stealing over him. A feeling of belonging. Of coming home. Which was ridiculous since he had a nice home.

Well, his parents had a nice home. He hadn't settled into anything other than rentals in a lot of years. His own fault, he knew, but in his busy life, renting here or there became a
convenience, business suites hotels becoming his home away from home.

Until now.

Here in Jamison he was caught in the fabric of small-town living, a lifestyle he thought he'd deplore as a younger man. Wrong. The peace and quiet called to him, the winding roads, wooded hills and sprawling farms. The wide ribbon of the Genesee River cut a swath through Wellsville, traveling north to Lake Ontario, a beautiful waterway fed by creeks and streams.

Meg sent him a look, curious and cautious. He knew he had to come clean about who he was, why he was here, but for the life of him he didn't want to have this end before seeing where it could lead. Selfish?

No, he decided as he crossed the room to her, smiling. Where Meg was concerned, he didn't think he had a selfish bone in his body.

 

He fit in, Meg decided midgame, when the left fielder was caught stealing second on an obviously bad call by the second-base umpire.

Danny surged to his feet alongside her father and brother, lamenting the ref's lack of prescription eyewear in a loud voice, and when the replay confirmed their collective decision, the three men groaned in unison before discussing the use of video review until Meg was tempted to stifle them all.

Instead, she hit the volume button until the play-by-play grew loud enough to make her point. “I paid to hear the announcers, not you guys.”

“Feisty.” Danny grinned, moved over to settle in alongside her, and pretended to be on his best behavior. “But cute.”

“And you didn't pay a thing,” her father reminded her, one
brow thrust up. “Which is why Danny's here instead of in his own living room, feet up, eating a pizza.”

“This is much better, sir.” Danny met Adam's gaze with a smile and swept the broad family room with a look of appreciation. “All the comforts of home, a great TV, wonderful company and a beautiful woman.”

Adam's grin said Danny made the short list.

Megan refused to entertain such notions. The only lists she was interested in right now involved cookie and fudge production for festival booths. Keeping her store stocked. The summer loomed long and frantically busy, the quick rotation of town festivals a big part of her bottom line, and Meg took those numbers seriously.

Danny's self-confidence and quick wit called to her, but the reality of his life meant he'd be leaving, so why would she test the waters? Her home was here, her life, her family, her work…

Danny leaned closer, his gaze on the television, his words for her ears only. “Remember that mustard seed, Megs?”

“My name is Megan.”

He grinned, still facing forward. “Sometimes things grow from tiny bits of faith, tiny seeds of life.”

“Danny Graham, philosopher.”

He shrugged, still watching the game, then shifted a glance her way, a quick look, his expression warm and teasing. “Thanks for coming with me.”

She wanted to growl something back, something that made him realize she wasn't a bit interested, but she couldn't. Instead she slanted him a smile that made his eyes brighten, his smile deepen. “I'm glad I did.” She nodded toward the television and tucked her feet beneath her, feeling totally relaxed for the first time in months, not caring if it was Danny or the game or the situation, just feeling…good.

She settled in, hugging a Yankees couch pillow and decided it was time to relax and enjoy the game. A big part of
her hoped she was just talking baseball, but a hint of conscience probed the bigger picture and sighed within.

Here we go again.

T
he melodic strains of “The Candy Man” woke Danny early the next morning. He scowled at the clock that read eight-ten, remembered it was Sunday, then groped for the phone, his mother's ringtone in keeping with the family theme. He hauled the phone to his ear. “Don't you have clocks in Buffalo?”

“We do and they're working fine,” she shot back. “Good morning, Daniel. How's everything going?”

He should have called and checked in. By not calling he'd aroused her curiosity, because he always checked in while scouting business locations and deals. They made a good team, his parents and him. And Grandma, of course, although she wasn't as involved in the day-to-day as she had been. That thought niggled him. He hadn't stopped back at the quilt store yet. Maybe he could do that today. He yawned, stretched and focused on his mother's question. “Good. Mostly.”

“Ah-hah.”

“Nothing bad,” he assured her. “I'm just trying to weigh possible sites and come out on top with as few people hating us as possible.”

“Why would anyone hate us? Hate chocolate? Hate candy? An impossibility.”

“Not candy in general. There's an old-fashioned chocolate shop here in Jamison and I'm trying to be careful so we don't drive her out of business.”

“Is she in a good location?”

Danny mulled that. “Yes and no. She's got better proximity to the interstate, but she's in a tiny town that's purposely caught in a time machine. They get a good tourist draw for six months of the year. And then there's Thanksgiving and Christmas, but we'll probably take a chunk of that business away if I buy the storefront I'm eyeing in Wellsville.”

“Survival of the fittest, Daniel.”

“Well…” He hesitated, picking his words. “It's not that easy.”

“Why?”

“Because she's…nice. Sweet. And she's developed this business from the bottom up, so I don't want to mess it up for her.”

“Danny, I appreciate your thoughtfulness, probably more than most, but I don't see how putting a small tribute store for Grandma Mary's in Wellsville will have a huge effect on some little old lady's shop up Route 19,” his mother argued. “And aren't you the one always spewing numbers back at me? You thought this area wouldn't support a candy shop at all—now you see it's supporting one that's in a less than perfect location. So what's the problem?”

“She's not old.”

“Oh?” A slight pause ensued. “Oh.”

Danny ignored her. “And this area is beginning to resurge, so we might be able to capitalize on that. That's lessened my concerns considerably.”

“O-kay.” His mother drew the two syllables out slowly. “So, once more. What's the holdup?”

He absolutely refused to say too much. “I'm trying to strike
a balance. An important balance. Let's leave it at that for the moment.”

She was silent for long, slow ticks of the clock, weighing his words as if trying to decipher this change of attitude. “All right. You'll let Dad or me know if you need help, right?”

He laughed. “I sincerely do not need help. But I do need my balloon. Can you have it brought down here in a few weeks? Wellsville has a big balloon rally in mid-July. I want to have a little fun before I make everyone mad at me.”

“Mad at you…”

Oops, he'd said too much. “Mom, you know how it goes. We're the big guns, swooping into town to take out the little guy.”

“Danny, it's a candy store, not a Super Wal-Mart. For pity's sake, get a grip. And go to church. They must have a church in that little town, right?”

They had five. He'd discovered just how cute that was last Sunday morning. Five churches, all with bell towers, pealing their calls to worship alternately.

No one was allowed to sleep in on Sunday mornings. Not in Jamison.

He laughed. “You would be quite comfortable with the church-to-population ratio. And you never know. I just might.”

She laughed, smug. “I knew sending you down there would be good for you. A chance to reconnect with your roots.”

“My roots are in Williamsville, remember?”

“Ancestral roots, boy. And don't be a smart aleck. There's a lot to be learned in a small town. And this has given your sister a chance to spread her wings. Get back in the game.”

“Have you talked with her?”

A more plaintive note colored her tone. “Yes. And she's doing fine.”

“But it's hard,” Danny added.

His mother hesitated. He could picture her in the big country kitchen in Williamsville, her forehead knit, a pencil tapping against the counter or the table, an old habit that refused to die. “It is,” she finally agreed. “Which makes it all the more necessary.”

“If she needs help, I can be just about anywhere in a few hours' time,” Danny reminded her. “There's only an airstrip here, but I could fly out of Rochester or Buffalo. Or drive.”

“I know you could. Dad said the same thing, but then it looks like we don't trust her to do the job, and that's a risk I can't take. Not when she's this fragile.”

“But is she
too
fragile?” Danny asked, concern edging his voice.

“No.” Merrilee Romesser's reply took a firm turn. “And we've got to be careful not to expect too much, too soon. It's only been a couple of weeks with you down there and Mary Clare stepping into your shoes, so we'll just give it time.”

A part of Danny longed to swoop in and grab his sister and cocoon her until the loss of her fiancé didn't cut as deep, but his mother had already taken a stand with both Romesser men to let Mary Clare spread her wings. Take a chance, a leap of faith. Tucked away in sweet, bucolic Jamison, it was hard to do. “We could still switch spots.”

“No.” His mother's voice said that wasn't about to happen. “It's good for her to jump into the mainstream and it's good for you to take a breath, Daniel. Smell a flower. Go to a small-town festival with a pretty girl.”

Visions of Meg filled him, the sweet, old-world dresses, the colloquial turns of speech, the lacy hairnet she wore on occasion. Then and there he decided his mother was absolutely right. He wanted to stay here for the summer, get the tribute store up and running, and get to know his neighbor. But if his sister needed help… “You'll let me know if you need me,
though, right? I'm enjoying this assignment, but if Mary Clare gets into trouble—”

“I'll let you know,” his mother interrupted.

Danny stood, rolled his shoulders, then filled the glass coffee carafe, yawning. “Gotta go. The church service starts in an hour.”

“You're actually going?” His mother's surprise made him laugh.

“I think I will. You can't sleep through the church bells around here anyway, so why not? Talk to you later this week.”

“Okay.”

He glanced at the clock again. He had just enough time to get cleaned up and ready if Megs was true to form. She'd left the house for church at nine-ten the previous week. If he just happened to be walking in the same direction for a similar purpose, well…

Timing was everything, right?

 

Danny Graham.

The guy was haunting her in a most annoying fashion. She thought about him when he wasn't around, and when he was.

And now he'd gone and kissed her, which incited a whole new round of thoughts.

And feelings. Amazing feelings.

She shut them down with a firm grasp on reality. Her beautifully planned autumn wedding the previous year had morphed into a town gossipfest. Not exactly the fairy-tale ending she'd sought.

Fairy tales were fictional for a reason. She remembered that as she slipped into a pink floral dress. She'd play the historic candy maker later that day, but for church she was
just another modern-day girl meeting the family at weekly services. And if Danny Graham happened to notice, well…

What had he said about peeking through windows, watching for each other? She'd blushed at the realization, and then doused a spark of hope inspired by his admission that he'd been watching, too.

If he was watching this morning, she wanted to look good. A quick glance in the mirror said she'd managed that. She smiled and headed out the door, only to run into the man himself.

“Nice.” His gaze swept down, then up, his look appreciative. “Very nice. It appears you have no trouble with twenty-first-century garb, Megs.”

“My name is Megan.”

“I know. Are those shoes okay to walk in?”

“I was thinking of driving this morning.” It wasn't exactly a lie. The thought popped into her head when she walked out the door and found Danny waiting for her. “Would you like a ride?”

“Let's walk.” He held out his arm.

She ignored it and shrugged. “Plenty of time, I suppose.”

“And a beautiful morning.”

“It is.”

He thrust his hands into his pockets and strolled alongside her, quiet and comfortable, as if he wasn't making her heart beat a mile a minute at the thought of being seen together, walking through town on a Sunday morning.

Oh, the gossips would be wagging their tongues. Shaking their heads. Wringing their hands at her expense.

Danny leaned her way. “We're just two people walking to church together. Nothing to get all steamed up over.”

She sent him a sidelong glance. “You've never lived in a small town, have you?”

“Not a rural small town, no. But a suburban one.”

“Population?”

He pondered that and nodded. “I see your point. Our high school classes had over four hundred kids.”

“Eighty-nine.”

“Big difference, yes, but—”

“There are no buts. You can't argue facts and figures. Not only am I ‘small town,' we're tucked in a region that's been knocked around a lot the past twenty years. We've got an aging population, little growth influx and our kids are moving away in record numbers.”

“But not you,” he argued. “And those facts are starting to change, right? Isn't Walker Electronics expanding?”

He was right. Alyssa's husband, Trent, had returned to Jamison to work for Walker Electronics the year before, to help the town. And it was working, but…

“It's a long process,” she told him. “It doesn't happen overnight.”

“Most things don't, Megs.”

“Megan.”

He grinned. Winked.

And suddenly she started thinking Megs was about the cutest name she ever heard. But no way was she about to let him know it. Confident, smug, overbearing…

He clasped her hand, the touch gentle. Warm. Firm. She started to back off and he swung their joined hands forward, his gaze down. “They're happier like this, Megs. Don't you think?”

He was ridiculous. Endearing. Nice. And he'd gotten up early to walk her to church.

What are you doing?
her inner voice demanded.
What are you thinking? Haven't you had enough? This is a recipe for disaster. Walk away now while you still have a shred of dignity.

She should listen to herself. She really should. But having
her hand in Danny's felt good. No, it felt wonderful. And the look he sidled her, a teasing look that made her want to laugh out loud, no words necessary, enticed her to take a chance.

She hadn't laughed a lot these past nine months. She'd worked, prayed, waited and done her share of whining. It felt good to laugh. Especially good to laugh with a man again.

Which would be her downfall, no doubt. “You understand the predicament you're putting me in, right?”

He nodded. Squeezed her hand. “Oh, I get it. Life's a risk. I think we all find that out the hard way.”

“Did you?”

“Don't we all? Hey, if the quilt shop is open on Sundays, can we stop in after church? I need to buy something for my grandmother.”

Something for his grandmother? The sweetness of that almost turned Meg's insides to mush. Almost. “Main Street does a lot of Sunday tourist business, and Maude McGinnity is one sharp businesswoman. She'll be open by the time the service ends.”

“Perfect. One more thing I can check off my list.”

“And that list includes…?” Meg left the question open-ended.

Danny shrugged but looked less than comfortable. “Too many things to ponder on a beautiful Sunday morning. Are we sitting with your parents?”

Megan sighed out loud.

Danny grinned.

“They like you. Ben likes you. The dog even likes you, but he doesn't count because he likes everyone.”

“Should I be insulted?”

“Possibly. But while I like you, too, I'm not in any way, shape or form inclined to be involved at this stage of the game.”

“You are holding my hand,” he reminded her.

Oh, she knew that. Right down to her pretty little hot-pink painted toenails, the warmth of those clasped fingers making her think things she'd thought before. Twice before, as a matter of fact.

She was an admitted romantic. Who else would dress in period costume to cook and teach people about days gone by?

But pragmatism took over when she'd waited long, drawn-out minutes at Good Shepherd church, the corset-laced wedding dress tight and heavy as time dragged on, her apprehension building, as she realized her groom would never show up.

She'd been able to rationalize Brad's treatment of her after a while. Obviously Denise had been willing to do things she'd refused before their wedding, hence their preschool-aged son, born five months after the wedding. But Michael…

She'd believed him. Trusted. And yeah, if she was honest, she should have realized it wasn't a perfect relationship. He'd let things slide she'd never be careless with, he wasn't diligent to detail, and he wasn't exactly Mr. Ambitious.

But he'd been sweet, kind and funny. Very funny. And obviously humor was one of her downfalls because here she was, walking hand in hand with Danny, admiring his quick smile, his beautiful eyes and quick wit.