“Oh, no.”
“Nearly four hundred bucks of oh, no, actually.” He glanced at the pup. “Feed him at your own risk. I guess that old saying is true and applies to dogs as well as guys. The way to our hearts is through our stomachs.”
Since Sissy was on her way indoors to make Ben a delicious Reuben sandwich, that adage seemed more of a bad omen than a helpful tip.
Chapter Five
As Sissy slapped corned beef slices on rye bread and made sure the sauerkraut had simmered long enough, she remembered that she’d promised Finn a meal. She glanced at the end piece of the corned beef, nodded her head, and cut a few more slices. Finn deserved the best. She pulled down another plate for the dog, embellished her offering with some leftover hamburger patties, and crumbled a corn muffin over the meat for an added treat. The dog had a loving, soulful gaze that she could meet with a feeling of peace and tenderness. Not like his master’s eyes, not by a mile. Gazing into Ben’s gave her about as much peace as standing by the tracks when the 12:20 freight train roared in every Wednesday and Friday.
She stepped onto the back porch to offer Finn his snack, mentally reminding herself to give him a full meal after Ben ate lunch. She had a hunch that Ben normally fed him whenever he ate. Finn greeted her with ecstatic whines, wagging his tail so hard she hoped his rear end didn’t come loose. Sissy granted herself a moment to simply appreciate the beautiful day. Clumps of wispy white clouds stood out against the robin’s egg blue sky. The pine trees in her yard and beyond the stream were shamrock green and swayed in the capricious wind currents like graceful dancers. All too soon, winter would descend upon Mystic Creek, and the tree boughs would bend low under the weight of snow until ice rendered them immobile. But today she could stand here, warm and happy, getting whiffs of the delicious Mexican food José was preparing next door.
Just then, movement caught her eye. Ben appeared from behind the bed of his pickup, bare from the waist up. Apparently he’d grown too hot and stripped off his shirt. Sissy’s mouth, wet from imagining the taste of José’s enchiladas, went as dry as sunbaked dirt. Ben’s upper body was slightly lighter in color than those parts of him always exposed to the elements, but it had the same butterscotch hue, accentuated with a mat of dark gold chest hair that tapered down to the fly of his jeans like an arrow. Every movement he made set muscles rippling under his skin. His broad shoulders, toned from physical labor, were well padded. His chest, wide and mounded with what looked like rock-hard flesh, glistened in the sunlight that played over him. She tried to look somewhere, anywhere, else, but her eyes weren’t getting the message from her brain.
As if he felt her staring, he snapped his gaze to the porch. Whatever he read in her expression made him grab his shirt from where he’d tossed it over the tailgate. With quick thrusts of his arms down the sleeves, he shrugged into the garment, leaving the front hanging open. From her point of view that didn’t do one bit of good. The partial display of masculine chest and abs was just as unnerving.
Just then, the café buzzer sounded, indicating that a customer had walked in. Sissy had never been so glad to hear anything. She spun around and nearly tripped over the still-chewing Finn. Doing an awkward hop-skip to avoid stepping on him, she careened through the back door and slammed it, stopping to fan her burning cheeks. What was wrong with her? Men stripped off their shirts all the time while they worked. There was nothing indecent about it. She’d seen plenty of shirtless guys, for heaven’s sake. She’d never felt even a twinge of arousal, let alone a slam that nearly buckled her knees.
She hurried through the storage rooms into the dining area. Blackie, the pawnshop owner, sat at the counter, moving a set of salt and pepper shakers on the surface as if he were playing solitary chess.
Finding her voice, she said, “What’ll it be, Blackie? Taking a coffee break during your walk?”
Every afternoon, the man closed his shop for an hour to get his daily exercise. Though stocky of build, he wasn’t overweight, and she admired his determination to be physically fit. He stayed mostly on pavement as he walked, sometimes circling the town center several times before reopening his business. He often stopped in at the Cauldron prior to that for a little refreshment, and she’d come to thoroughly enjoy their chats. With Blackie, she didn’t worry about guarding her tongue.
His black hair glistening in the artificial light, he settled a thoughtful blue gaze on Sissy, studied her for a moment, and said, “I’ve got a hankering for one of your blueberry muffins and a cup of coffee.”
Sissy made muffins and cakes three times a week for those customers with a sweet tooth, and, of course, she had desserts on her menu. She ordered pies and more complicated pastry creations from the Jake ’n’ Bake. “One blueberry muffin with coffee, coming right up.” She stepped behind the counter and washed her hands. Within seconds, she’d served Blackie his muffin and poured him a cup of coffee. “How did your outing go today?”
“Well, weather-wise it was fabulous,” he said, giving her a grin, “but during my walk, Ma Thomas dashed out of her shop to grab my arm. She’s in a tailspin. FedEx got some of her order wrong today and brought her two boxes of items that were supposed to go across the street to the Shady Lady.”
Along with most of the town, Sissy adored Ma Thomas. Every once in a while, Sissy invited her and Marilyn next door over to her café for lunch after the crowd thinned out. It was fun, but Sissy especially enjoyed the stories they told about her aunt Mabel. How much she loved bingo nights. How she cried while watching sad movies. And how proud she would be of Sissy for stepping into her shoes and making the café even more prosperous than it had been while she ran it.
“The Shady Lady?” The thought of Ma going in there made Sissy cringe. It was an adult store targeted mostly at men and women who wanted to liven up their sex lives. Sissy had gone in once, just to check it out. “Uh-oh,” she said. “Ma is such a sweetie. Whatever she found in the boxes probably shocked her to the core.”
Blackie chuckled. “She made me go inside her shop and look. She wanted me to tell her what she’d been sent so she could call the supplier and get her order straightened out.”
Sissy pictured some of the merchandise at the Shady Lady and mentally elbowed Ben out of the forefront of her mind. She smiled at Blackie. “So did you tell her what was in the boxes?”
Blackie lifted his muffin. “Hell, no. I pretended to be as mystified as she was. Dildos. Dozens of them in all shapes and sizes. I couldn’t tell Ma what they were. I didn’t want her to know I even knew what they were. She’d never look at me the same way again. So instead I pointed to the address labels and told her where the boxes should have gone.”
Sissy giggled as she topped off Blackie’s mug. The man loved his coffee. “That was probably a smart call. Now if only we could be flies on the wall when Ma goes across the street to the Shady Lady to exchange boxes with the owner!” Slipping into the kitchen to grill Ben’s sandwich, Sissy raised her voice to continue the conversation. “Imagine the look on Ma’s face when she sees all that stuff on display in the Shady Lady.”
Blackie sighed. “I probably should have gone with her. Call me a chicken, but I didn’t have the guts.”
Sissy flipped over the sizzling sandwich just as a timer went off, signaling that Ben’s fries were done. She hurried over to open the appliance and lifted the basket. “I don’t blame you, and you aren’t a chicken. Some of those gadgets are over-the-top. Maybe Ma won’t know what they’re for, and she’ll return to her store none the wiser.”
Blackie spoke around a lump of muffin in his cheek. “God bless her. She’s a woman in a million. She stuck by her husband and never strayed even though he was sick for a long time. If she was twenty years younger, I’d marry her.”
“You and half the population of the whole town,” affirmed Sissy. “She’s—”
Ben’s voice cut across her words as he entered the dining room. “You kiddin
g, Blackie? I thought you swore off marriage after your divorce.”
As Sissy arranged Ben’s lunch on a plate, Blackie filled Ben in on the order mistake at Simply Sensational. She heard a rumble of laughter from Ben. “Dildos? Poor Ma. How did you explain what they were?”
“I didn’t! I acted as innocent as a kid and twice as dumb. There are some things that a dear heart like Mary Alice doesn’t need to know, son. I only feel bad because I left her to straighten out the order by herself. Now I’m worried that she’ll hotfoot it across the street and walk into that den of—hmm, I can’t think of the word. But ladies of her generation don’t need to know about that stuff.”
Sissy left the kitchen, carrying Ben’s food. Just as devastatingly handsome as he’d been minutes ago, Ben winked at her. To Blackie, he said, “I only went in once. Curiosity got the better of me. Let me just say it’s not a place I’d want my mom to visit.”
Sissy set napkin-wrapped silverware in front of her now fully clothed handyman and found herself still picturing him without a shirt. She set his plate down with a thump. Blackie stared at her in surprise but Ben didn’t seem to notice.
“Yum!” Ben said appreciatively. “Extra kraut? Lots of sauce. You’re a woman after my heart.”
She was not after his heart, and she almost said so. But there were other things about him that were getting more and more difficult for her to ignore. The sooner he was off her property, the better she’d like it.
“Man, it’s gorgeous outside today!” Blackie exclaimed. “It feels almost like summer again. It makes me want to close my shop so I can enjoy it.”
Over time, Blackie had become one of Sissy’s favorite customers, a friend who didn’t make her feel threatened or guarded. “Oh, me, too! I daydream about closing my café and sneaking away to play hooky. Even though I know it’ll never happen, I have it all planned out. I’ll hang a sign on the café door saying I’ll open again for dinner, climb into my aunt Mabel’s SUV, and drive the curvy mountain roads until I find the perfect grassy spot to enjoy a solitary picnic. One last day of summer.”
Blackie laughed. “I’ve done it a few times. Closed up and taken off. It was wonderful. Weather like this brings out my rebellious side.”
Sissy smiled. “Growing up, I sometimes hid in my parents’ backyard—when they’d rented a place with one—to watch the clouds drifting above me. I often wondered where they were going. I never came up with a satisfactory answer, but one thing was certain in my mind. Anywhere had to be better than where I was. Somewhere there had to be a place where everything wasn’t your fault, where no one beat your puppy to death because it barked at night, where kids felt like they were wanted instead of barely tolerated.”
A leaden silence blanketed the café. Sissy realized what she’d just said and wanted to disappear. Ben sat frozen with his teeth still sunk into one half of his sandwich. Blackie had settled a saddened gaze on her.
So embarrassed she could barely think, Sissy rushed to add with false cheer, “But that’s all behind me now. I’m twenty-six, on my own, and running a business. Despite the harsh winters, Mystic Creek has become my home. I have a good life here, and for the first time, I can call my own shots.”
Ben had finally swallowed the bite of sandwich. Blackie looked at her as if he’d never seen her before.
“Well, honey,” Blackie said, “tomorrow may be your last chance for that summer picnic somewhere beautiful. My weather app says it’ll be nice for the next few days, but I never trust what it says for more than twenty-four hours. Nobody but a fool tries to predict weather in Oregon. You should close up tomorrow and take a day off.”
“Oh, no, I can’t. Ben’s expecting his four meals for building my new run and coop, and Christopher Doyle counts on me for his as well.”
“Forget my four squares,” Ben inserted. “And what you need for your hooky day is a guide who knows the area. You can drive the windy roads around here forever if you don’t know where to go. Have you ever seen Crystal Falls? Not the town, but the waterfall.”
“Oh, wow, it’s incredible,” Blackie observed. “The water is crystal clear.” He glanced at Ben. “And that grassy bank? It’d be perfect for a picnic. I went once. Didn’t have a picnic, but I did get hungry because it’s so gorgeous you don’t want to leave. You should go up there. Ben would probably love to take you.”
Sissy felt as if she’d gotten stuck in a vise. “Christopher counts on me.” She speared Blackie with a look. “And you count on your muffin and coffee during your afternoon walk. I can’t just up and leave!”
“Sure you can!” Blackie insisted. “I can go over to the Jake ’n’ Bake for a muffin and coffee tomorrow. Just close up after you feed Christopher breakfast. Tell him you’re taking off and will come back before the dinner hour. Do your prep in the morning. Steal a few hours for yourself for a change. When I do it, I just say an emergency came up. People don’t stop patronizing my shop. And it isn’t a lie. My emergency is that I need a day to enjoy myself. Desperately.”
“The waterfalls are hard to find,” Ben commented. “GPS up in those mountains isn’t always accurate. I’d love to drive you up there. I’ll have to take Finn along, if you don’t mind. He gets in a pout if I leave him and chews things, like my furniture.”
Sissy felt mildly offended. “Why would I object to being around Finn? He’s a sweetheart.”
“So it’s a plan!” Blackie slapped his palm on the counter. When he saw what Sissy knew was probably a horrified look on her face, he added, “Think of it as a favor to me and my blood pressure. I worry about you, working nonstop all day, every day.”
Sissy tried to imagine taking part of a day off in the company of Ben, the cowboy who was way too sexy to go without a shirt. Apparently Ben interpreted by her expression that she was worried. “Just as friends. Finn will be our chaperone. He’s still just a baby. I can’t poison his mind with anything risqué.”
Sissy giggled. She didn’t know where that had come from, because she was totally not into this idea. She supposed her laughter sprang from near hysteria.
“So,” Blackie said, “when is Christopher finished with breakfast?”
“Eight thirty,” Sissy replied.
“Get your dinner prep done before then, throw his plate and flatware in the dishwasher, and you can be out of here by nine,” Blackie said. “Just do it. It’ll be good for my heart. You work way too hard. Money isn’t everything, Sissy. Sometimes we just have to live.”
Ben took another bite of his sandwich and chewed for what seemed an interminable time. “Blackie, you heard the lady. She can finally call her own shots. Stop pressuring her.”
Blackie hung his head. “I didn’t mean like it’d be a date or anything. Just a few hours for her to relax.”
Sissy realized that Blackie now felt awful. She blurted, “I’ll go. I need a few hours off.”
Beaming a grin, Blackie looked up at her. “Really? Oh, honey, I’m so glad. Normally it’s slow for me on weekdays, but tomorrow I’m doing a big trade with another pawnshop owner in Crystal Falls. Once we’ve held merchandise beyond the expiration date and it’s not moving for us, we switch with each other. Otherwise I’d take you to the falls myself.”
Ben said nothing and continued eating. More slowly now. When Blackie finally left, he finished off his meal in record time and then looked up at her. “Crystal Falls is beautiful beyond description. But don’t let Blackie push you into going if you don’t want to. If I show up at nine and you’ve changed your mind, I’ll just go to work on the chicken coop.”
Sissy’s heart squeezed, and it hurt so badly it nearly took her breath. This was Ben Sterling, one of the golden-haired favorites of Mystic Creek, the kind of man who, in her experience, felt privileged and entitled with women. They never played fair. When they got a woman backed into a corner, they went for it. But he had just offered her a way out.
“Th
ank you, Ben.”
He slid his plate toward her. “Thank you for the best Reuben sandwich I’ve ever eaten. I’ll be here at nine. Crystal Falls is truly incredible to see, and I’ll bring the picnic food. If you decide against going, no worries. With my appetite, I’ll empty the cooler and be hungry by dinnertime.” He swung off the barstool. “Don’t let Blackie pressure you. He means well, but he may not understand how you feel about some things. You’re independent now. Don’t let anybody screw with that.”
He turned and strode toward the back area of the café with that loose-hipped stride, filled with the strength and agility that always made her mouth water. When she heard the back door close, she allowed the sharp shards of her memories to flow from her lungs on the crest of a pent-up breath and closed her eyes. Tears slipped down her cheeks. It was far too soon for her to trust Ben. Far too soon. But no privileged, well-heeled male, young or old, had ever told her that she should make her own choices and let no one else pressure her to do otherwise.
Sissy sighed. She didn’t trust Ben enough to go with him tomorrow, but maybe, after a good night’s sleep, she’d decide to do it anyway. Against her better judgment. Go when all her alarm bells were ringing. Go simply because he’d respected her right to make her own decision. No demands, no pressure. Maybe he really was as nice as he seemed.
Just then Blackie reentered the café. “What is Ben building out back, anyway?”
“A new chicken coop and run. I’m paying him with meals.”
“That’d work for me! You’ve turned into a great cook.” He paused at the counter. “Do you mind if I go out to have a look?”
“No, not at all.”
Blackie nodded and trailed behind Ben through the storage rooms.
Sissy took that opportunity to do cleanup and find something for Finn’s lunch. She had scraps of corned beef left over from Ben’s Reuben and took them out to the pup, who was quickly becoming her most devoted customer, nonpaying though he might be.