CHAPTER ELEVEN

AFTER SPENDING an entire week recuperating from a cold—and now convinced she had caught the bug from Rose—Annie saw Isaac safely onto the school bus on Monday morning and pulled her shopping list from beneath a magnet on the fridge. She skimmed the page to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, added “chicken feed” and tucked it into her handbag. She had been up early and baked a batch of lemon-cranberry muffins—Paul’s favorite. But then he’d texted to say he wouldn’t make it out to the farm that morning.

Feeling disappointed didn’t make sense, but that didn’t stop her from feeling it.

“Dad?” she called down the hallway. After breakfast he always spent an hour or so in his room, checking email and reading online news reports. “I’m going into town to run errands. CJ’s at the stable and has her phone with her if you need anything.”

“I’ll be fine, Annie.”

Of course he would. Monday was her errand day and she always spent the morning in town, and everything at the farm was always fine when she returned. “I’ll be back in time to make lunch.”

Thomas appeared in the doorway of his room. “Why don’t you treat yourself to lunch in town?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t.” She really shouldn’t. “I don’t have anything ready for you and CJ.”

“That kitchen is full of food, and Cassie Jo and I are quite capable of putting some of it on a plate. You should get together with one of your friends. Maybe that young Woodward fellow is free.”

“Really, Dad?” Bad enough her sisters were practically tripping over themselves to push her and Paul together, but now her father was in on it? His expression of mock innocence made her laugh out loud. “I am not asking Paul to have lunch with me.”

“What about Emily? You could have lunch with her, talk about wedding plans.”

That was actually a good idea. If she had thought of it sooner, she would have left something ready for her father and her sister.

“Call Emily. CJ and I will make ourselves sandwiches,” he said as though he was reading her thoughts.

“Fine. I’ll call Emily. There’s a fresh loaf of bread in the pantry, ham and cheese in the…”

But her father had returned to his room and quietly closed the door and she was left talking to herself. He was right. They could take care of themselves and she did deserve to treat herself to lunch out. On her way out to the car, she dialed Emily’s number before she changed her mind.

* * *

PAUL’S DECISION TO take the early shift at the clinic had an upside: his father. Geoff was reasonably cheerful after a good night’s sleep and a breakfast of soft-boiled eggs and wheat toast cut into soldiers—buttered, crusts removed, and cut into fingers. This was a throwback to his childhood, having been brought up by a British mother whose rigid ways had extended all the way to her stiff upper lip. As a child, Paul had seen very little of his paternal grandmother and hadn’t liked her much when he did.

The downside of the early shift was not starting his day over coffee in Annie’s kitchen. For the past week, she hadn’t been feeling well and he had used that as a reason to check in on her. Those meetings were fast becoming the favorite part of his daily routine.

By eleven o’clock, he was updating the last patient’s chart when his cell phone buzzed.

Paul was more than ready to take a break and the timing was perfect because it gave him a chance to drop by the house to check on his father and fix him some lunch. Paul could have the old man fed and settled into his recliner for an afternoon of TV talk shows and intermittent naps and still have time to meet his friend at the appointed time.

A better offer would have been lunch with Annie but she would never agree. According to her, they were still “just friends.” Meeting him at the café would seem too much like a date, and that wasn’t going to happen. At least not anytime soon.

* * *

ANNIE’S LAST STOP of the morning was Henderson’s Hardware. She had just enough time to pick up the remaining items on her list and load them into her station wagon before she met Emily for lunch at the Riverton Bar & Grill. She pushed her cart along the aisles, tossing in boxes of lids for her canning jars, a package of lightbulbs, a roll of duct tape for her father, ticking items off her list as she went. What was it with men and duct tape? Her father claimed he could fix anything with a pocketknife and a roll of tape. She briefly considered buying a roll with the cupcake print—he was not a fan of cupcakes, saying he didn’t understand why anyone would settle for a small cake when they could have a large one—but she decided he was unlikely to see the humor in it, so settled for the original gray instead. She dragged bags of dog chow and chicken feed onto the bottom of her cart, finally picking up the new push broom CJ had requested for the stable.

Mel and Marjorie Henderson were waiting for her behind the counter. Mel and his wife had taken over the store from his father, and now their son managed the lumberyard and their two grandsons worked as stock boys on weekends.

“Annie, it’s so good to see you,” Marjorie said, ringing in items and adding them to Annie’s canvas shopping bag. “How’s everything at Finnegan Farm these days?”

“Good. Busy, of course, with Emily’s wedding coming up in a few weeks.”

“That’s right. We heard all about it the last time your father was in with Isaac. Leave those bags of feed on the cart,” Marjorie said. “Mel can load them in your car. What a handsome little boy you have there. The spitting image of his father. Oh. Oh, dear, I hope you don’t mind me saying that, after what happened to your husband.”

“Not at all. We talk about Eric all the time.” Annie did her best to muster a reassuring smile but she was actually remembering something her father had once said about Marjorie, “That woman could talk the hind leg off a mule.”

Mel stepped around the counter and loaded Annie’s shopping bag into the cart. “Isaac took a real shine to Izzie’s puppies when he was here.”

“He hasn’t stopped talking about them since he saw them.” Annie had been doing her best to ignore the enclosure behind the counter, where a black-and-white border collie was sprawled with her puppies on a red plaid blanket. She looked at them now and tried to harden her heart. One of the pups had woken up and was stumbling across its litter mates. “He’s desperate to have one, but I don’t know. Puppies need a lot of attention and I’m afraid I don’t have the time to devote to training one right now.”

Annie paid for her purchases and dropped her wallet back into her handbag.

Mel swung the cart toward the door, then paused. “If your boy really wants a dog and you don’t want a puppy, then we just might have a solution for you.”

“You do?”

“One of the pups from Izzie’s litter last year was adopted by a family here in town. Unfortunately, their toddler has developed an allergy to pet dander and they can’t keep him. He’s housebroken, knows basic commands. Sit, stay, that sort of thing. And he’s looking for a new home.”

“Oh.” She did not need to be hearing this right now. When she’d said “we’ll see” to Isaac, she had hoped to buy some time, come up with a good argument for not getting another dog right now. She had also hoped if she stalled long enough, the puppies might find other homes. Mel’s offer was a deal changer. This gave her the chance to fill a void in her son’s life without making hers unmanageable. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll think about it.”

“His name’s Bentley,” Mel said. “Nice dog, real good with kids.”

What little resistance Annie had slipped away. “That’s good to know. I’ll talk it over with my family tonight and give you a call tomorrow.”

She unlocked her car and, as he stowed everything in the back, she checked the time. Perfect. All her errands were done with five minutes to spare.

“Thanks, Mel.” She locked her car and set off down the block and across the street to the café, where she was meeting Emily for lunch. Her father was right. Annie worked hard and she deserved to treat herself once in a while.

* * *

PAUL STIRRED CREAM into his coffee. Morning coffee with Annie would always be his first choice. And while lunch with Jack was a definite second place, Paul was glad for the invitation. Their lives in Chicago had been fast-paced and they had both been driven to progress in their respective careers. Now here they were in sleepy Riverton, finally making a concerted effort to stay in touch regularly.

Annie’s half sister, Rose, wasn’t working the lunch shift today. This was a good thing, he decided. They didn’t need her eavesdropping on their conversation.

His cell phone pinged with an incoming message.

Well, that was disappointing, but understandable. Paul was debating whether he should order lunch or just finish his coffee and leave, when Annie walked in.

* * *

ANNIE GLANCED AROUND the interior of the café. No sign of Emily yet. Then her gaze landed on the last person she expected to see.

“Paul, hi.” She looked as surprised to see him as he was to see her. “What are you doing here?”

“I was meeting Jack for lunch but he can’t make it. What about you?”

“I’m having lunch with Emily. We’re going to do some wedding planning.”

“I see. Would you like to join me?”

“You want to listen to us talk about food and flowers?”

He laughed. “Okay, not really, but you’re welcome to sit with me until she gets here.”

“Sure.” She slid into the booth and sat across from him. “What time was Jack supposed to be here?”

“Twelve thirty, but then something came up at the station at the last minute.”

“I see.”

“What time is Emily supposed to be here?”

“Twelve thirty.”

“Ah. I see.”

Did he? she wondered. Because she was pretty sure she did. This was a setup. She took out her cell phone and checked for messages. Sure enough, there was a text from Emily, sent a minute ago.

“Everything okay?” Paul asked.

“It seems my sister can’t make it, either. Something to do with the book she’s working on.”

“So we’ve both been stood up?”

No, we’ve been set up. “I guess we have,” she said.

He handed her a menu. “Then we might as well order some lunch.”

She scanned the menu, glancing up at Paul several times, finding him doing the same. Each time, their gazes connected for a split second before they quickly looked at their menus. This was silly. And awkward. Did he suspect her family of matchmaking? Or did he think this was purely a coincidence?

How could they? Even her father had been in on this, encouraging her to stay in town for lunch. Emily had readily agreed to meet, and then she’d promptly dragged Jack into it. As for CJ, she had no obvious role in this particular caper, but Annie knew she was involved. She may even have been the mastermind.

Annie should have worn something more appropriate. She had pulled a pale blue hoodie over her T-shirt and she was still wearing the same jeans she’d worn while making breakfast, vacuuming the house and cleaning out the chicken coop. And because she had planned to run errands and have lunch with her sister—in other words, nothing special—she had only waved a little mascara at her lashes and dabbed her lips with gloss. The gloss was long gone.

Paul had rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt almost to the elbows, but it still looked crisp in spite of his having worked at the clinic all morning. He wore a paisley tie in subdued shades of dark green and brown. A perfect match for his eyes, she thought, and wondered if he had chosen it for himself. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe a woman he’d been dating in Chicago had picked it out for him. Not that it mattered who he had dated then, and she was sure he wasn’t seeing anyone now. Jack wouldn’t have joined in on this matchmaking conspiracy if his friend had another woman in his life.

“Annie?”

“What?”

“Do you know what you’d like to order?”

“Oh.” She looked up to find Paul and the waitress, Heather Wilson, watching her intently. Heather was married to Jesse Wilson, who had dropped out of high school the year before Annie, Paul, Jack and Eric had graduated. Jesse worked at the feedlot in Pepin and spent a good chunk of his paycheck on booze and cigarettes. He and Heather lived in the Cottonwood Trailer Park on the east side of town. Jesse’s sister, Becky, was a hairdresser and owned the Clip ’n’ Curl, the hub of Riverton’s rumor mill. By that afternoon, everyone who went in to have their hair done would know Annie Finnegan Larsen had been seen having lunch with Dr. Paul Woodward. By tonight, everyone in the trailer park would have heard, and by this time tomorrow, the whole town would be talking.

“Do you have a lunch special?”

“Liver and onions.”

The thought alone was enough to make her gag. “I’ll have the BLT wrap.”

“Soup, salad or fries?”

“The salad, please.”

“Ranch, Italian or balsamic vinaigrette?”

“The vinaigrette. And coffee, please.”

After unsmilingly peppering Annie with options, Heather turned on the charm for Paul. “And what can I get for the handsome doctor?” She was all but purring.

If Paul noticed, he wasn’t letting on. He smiled at Annie instead. “The BLT wrap with a salad sounds good. Make that two.” He closed the menu and handed it to Heather without making eye contact.

She snagged Annie’s menu and hustled off to the kitchen in a huff. Paul’s slight would do nothing to dampen the rumor mill but Annie didn’t care. If it wasn’t for the table between them, she would have hugged him.

“Did we go to school with her?” Paul asked.

“We did. That’s Heather Hobbart—Wilson now, since she married Jesse Wilson.”

“Okay, him I remember. Jack, Eric and I got ourselves into some trouble, hanging out with him.”

“Oh, right. I’d forgotten about that. Didn’t you have to spend a couple of Saturdays washing cruisers at the police station?”

Paul shook his head. “More than a couple. And our parents grounded us for a month. It taught us all a lesson—several lessons, actually. One, egging police cars wasn’t cool. Two, Jesse wasn’t cool. That’s when Jack developed an interest in police work, though, and look at him now.”

“I know. We’re so proud of him and so happy for Emily. They’re going to be amazing parents.”

“I’m pretty sure it runs in your family. Your dad’s a good man and I see his good traits in all of you.”

He reached across the table and patted her hand just as Heather reappeared with a cup of coffee for Annie.

Wonderful, she thought. More fuel for the rumor mill. But at the same time, his touch was reassuring and she was grateful for that. He didn’t take his hand away until after Heather left, and she could have sworn his eyes actually twinkled. He’d done the whole touching-hands-across-the-table thing on purpose, and Annie surprised herself by feeling glad he had.

“How’s your father doing?” she asked, deciding a change of subject was in order.

“He has ups and downs and we’re taking things day by day. His specialist in Madison has him on some new medication that seems to be helping.”

“That’s a relief for you, I’m sure.” She sipped her coffee, which was surprisingly good. She thought again of what Mel had said about the dog in need of a home. “There’s something I’d like your opinion on. I’m giving some thought to letting Isaac have a dog of his own. What do you think?”

“Ah, yes. One of the border collie puppies from Henderson’s.”

“He told you about it?”

Paul laughed. “He’s mentioned it a time or ten.”

Annie laughed along with him. “He’s definitely obsessed.”

“Research shows kids who are pet owners learn responsibility, that’s a given. There’s also a lot of evidence to show they’re healthier, happier, have better self-esteem and maybe even perform better in school.”

Annie sighed. She knew these things intuitively, but she still questioned whether or not this was the right time to add another animal to the menagerie. “We have the horses and chickens,” she said. “And Chester.”

“True, but CJ manages the stable and the riding programs and looks after the horses, and you take care of the chickens.”

“True, and poor Chester is too old and arthritic to be a companion for an energetic little boy.”

Heather appeared and set two plates on the table. “Here you go,” she said, smiling at Paul. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Looks good.” He gave her a polite smile in return and shifted his attention to Annie. “Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you. This looks really good.”

“Well then, I’ll leave the two of you to enjoy your lunch,” Heather said before moving on to another table.

Paul bit into his wrap and gave it a nod of approval.

Annie seldom ate anything she hadn’t prepared herself and she had to admit the food looked amazing. She took a bite of hers and agreed. It was as delicious as it looked.

“So,” Paul said after devouring some of his food, “it sounds as though you’ve pretty much settled on the puppy.”

“Not necessarily.” She explained the situation with the older dog that was housebroken and crate-trained. “And he’s graduated from obedience 101, which is an added bonus. Isaac is too young to take on the responsibility of training a puppy and I don’t have time to do a proper job of it myself. I’ve had the B and B on hiatus so I can help with the wedding, but I’ll be reopening later in the fall, in time for the holidays.”

“Sounds like a win-win—for you, Isaac and the dog.”

“So you think I should do it?”

“Oh, no,” he said. “Picture me sitting on the fence here. Get the dog, don’t get the dog. It’s your decision.”

“Because that way if I make the wrong decision, I have to own it.”

“Pretty much.” He grinned at her. “Seriously, though, there is no wrong decision. If this is the right time for you to get a dog, you’ll know. If it doesn’t feel right, then you’ll wait.”

“So you’re saying I should relax and go with the flow.”

“Pretty much.”

Annie had never been good at accepting advice—yes, she could admit that about herself—but she’d needed to hear this. “Thank you,” she said. “That’s the best non-advice advice anyone’s ever given me.”

She held up her coffee cup and he raised his and the rims clinked.

“These wraps are really good,” she said, starting on the second half. “So tell me, did you have pets when you were growing up?”

“Have you forgotten I was raised by Geoff Woodward in a home his wife had been expected to keep just so? Or else? So, no, there were no pets. Not a lot of anything that resembled family fun.”

Annie reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. She couldn’t stop herself. “Eric told me it wasn’t a very…happy house. I’m sorry.”

But Paul was smiling. “It wasn’t all bad. My mother did what she could to soften his sternness. She used to tell me and my sister we were lucky in some ways because when we grew up and got married, it was our chance for a do-over. To make a happy home.”

“She actually said that?”

“She did.” The affection he still had for his mom, even though she was no longer with him, was written all over his face.

“I wish I’d had a chance to get to know her. I think I would have liked her.”

“And I know the feeling would have been mutual.”

Slowly, she drew her hand away and caught a glimpse of her watch as she did. “Oh, my. Look at the time. I should go. My family will start to worry.”

He leaned across the table. “Can I let you in on a little not-so-secret secret?” he asked, shielding his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What’s that?”

“Your family knows exactly where you are.”

So he had figured out what her father and sisters and Jack were up to. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what they were thinking.”

He pushed his empty plate to one side, leaned back in the booth, crossed his arms. “How does this sound? Next time we should make this easy for them.”

“Easy?” She hated to say it, but they hadn’t had to put much effort in to this.

“You do errands in town every Monday, right?”

“I do. How did you know?”

He avoided the question with a shrug.

“I’m that predictable?”

“I’d call it reliable, dependable,” he said. They both laughed.

“Thank you for that. So, what did you have in mind for—”

Heather chose that moment to appear. “Will there be anything else? No? Just the check then?”

She dropped the slip on the table and sashayed away. Annie wished she had the nerve to toss her crumpled napkin at the woman’s back. She reached for her purse instead.

“I’ll get it.” Paul tossed a couple of bills on the table. “About next Monday. How about we meet here after my shift at the clinic and after you finish your errands? That way if they try to pull a fast one on us, we can tell them we already have plans. What do you say?”

“I say…” She’d like to say the whole lot of them deserved to be one-upped but the truth was, she no longer cared. The food here was surprisingly good and the conversation even better. “I say I’m in.”

He stood, extended a hand to help her up. “Then it’s a date.”

Speaking of dates… “Everyone’s coming for dinner on Sunday. Even my son’s teacher will be there. We’d love to have you join us, too.”

He held the door for her as they left the restaurant. “I’ll be there. What about morning coffee this week?”

“Drop by anytime you’d like.”

“Great. I’ll text you when I have a free morning.” He glanced up and down the sidewalk. “Where are you parked?”

“You do not have to walk me to my car,” she said as they left the café.

“Maybe not, but I wouldn’t be much of gentleman if I didn’t.”

The sentiment made her smile. Paul was the dictionary definition of a gentleman and she was lucky to have him for a friend. He planned to drop by again for coffee, he was coming for Sunday dinner, and they were meeting for lunch again next Monday. She wouldn›t call it a date, exactly, but she was secretly pleased he had. She was equally grateful to her family for the set-up, although not in a million years would she give them the satisfaction of hearing her say so.