The heady aroma of bergamot curled from Penny’s teacup as she sipped the piping-hot Earl Grey. She barely tasted the pungent citrusy spice as she swallowed, intently focused on Cassie’s next words.
Ever since Frank Barrie collapsed on the dance floor at Luke and Cassie’s wedding, Penny feared the worst. He’d claimed he merely fell from fatigue, but she’d suspected a more serious issue.
“Frank had a mini heart attack,” Cassie explained tearfully. “And because of preexisting conditions, his doctor is recommending some severe lifestyle adjustments. At least temporarily.”
“Like what?” Jack asked, taking an unprecedented break from his pie.
“He has to limit his activity as much as possible. Which means…”
“No coffee roasting,” Eliza finished on a horrified gasp.
Penny’s gaze darted between the two women who’d built their business around Frank’s specialty blends. Not only did half the café run off of Cassie’s inventive lattes, but Eliza modeled an entire line of desserts around unique, coffee-infused recipes like her mouthwatering tiramisu cheesecake. Not to mention, thanks to Grant’s outstanding web design skills, online orders for The Calendar Café’s custom coffee blends were skyrocketing.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Cassie admitted. “Or cooking, cleaning, and plenty of other activities we all take for granted. Which makes the fact that Frank lives alone particularly problematic.”
“He needs to marry Beverly already,” Jack laughed, before twisting his face into a more austere expression. “But seriously, I can take care of the cooking. He can order anything he wants off my menu, and I’ll find someone to deliver it.”
Penny smiled fondly at her flannel-clad friend. A giant bear of a man, Jack had one of the biggest hearts of anyone she knew. And considering Frank spent nearly every Saturday night enjoying a plate of all-you-can-eat ribs at Jack’s diner, she didn’t think he would protest the generous offer. Although, Frank’s doctor may want him to cut back on his red meat consumption. But she wouldn’t bring that up in front of Jack. Or he might have his own coronary.
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.” Cassie beamed in his direction. “Beverly has offered to cook for him several nights a week, too. And take care of laundry, basic cleaning, and things like that. However, that presents a problem of its own.”
“What’s that?” Penny leaned forward, her anxious heart sputtering at the mention of Beverly’s troubles.
From the moment she and her father moved to Poppy Creek, Penny viewed Beverly Lawrence as a surrogate mother. Some of her favorite memories were of Story Hour at the library, when Beverly, the head librarian, would read aloud to a gaggle of enraptured children. As she got older, Penny would spend countless afternoons at the historic landmark, curled up on the secluded window seat surrounded by a pile of classics like Anne of Green Gables and Wives and Daughters. There were several occasions when Beverly would lock up late because Penny had been too engrossed in the well-thumbed pages to notice the time.
“You know how Mayor Burns is on this kick to increase tourism?” Cassie asked.
“Don’t remind me,” Jack snorted. “The other day, he tried to talk me into hanging curtains at the diner. Curtains! Not to mention repainting my front door and adding some planter boxes out front. ‘Cosmetic improvements,’ he called it. Oh, and he asked me to change the name, too. Apparently, Jack’s Diner isn’t catchy enough. Never mind it’s straightforward and to the point. Can you believe the nerve of that guy?” Crossing his arms, Jack snarled in outrage.
Cassie offered a sympathetic grimace. “I know. He’s a little… over zealous. He’s working with the chamber of commerce to update the town’s guidebook. Beverly volunteered to write a travel guide specifically for senior citizens. Mayor Burns loved the idea, but insisted she include firsthand experiences and anecdotes. But if she’s taking care of Frank, Beverly won’t have time. I’d offer to do it for her, except I’ve already promised to spend extra hours working with Frank on the second edition of The Mariposa Method. The publisher expects it by the end of the month.”
“I’ll do it,” Penny blurted before she could stop herself.
“Are you sure?” The creases around Cassie’s eyes softened with relief. “That would be a huge help.”
Penny nodded, although her stomach twisted in revolt. She didn’t know the first thing about researching and writing a tourism article. Let alone what activities would appeal to senior citizens. “No problem,” she lied. “I’m happy to do it.”
“Thanks, Pen. I’m sure Beverly will gladly give you ideas for the list. And they’ll probably be easy things you can knock out in a weekend. Mayor Burns is holding a meeting tomorrow night at six o’clock in the town hall for everyone contributing to the guidebook. Can you make it?”
“Sure. That’s right around the time I close up shop, anyway.” With unsteady hands, Penny brought the teacup to her lips, taking a much-needed sip. Now lukewarm, it tasted sharp and bitter, doing little to assuage her mounting anxiety.
“Excellent. Let’s see… what else?” Cassie scrunched her features as she mentally tallied her talking points. “Oh! That’s right!” With an apologetic lilt, she said, “Liza, I’ll probably have to rely on you a little more around here while I’m helping Frank. Which I feel terrible about, considering we just had our grand opening and—”
“Don’t you dare worry about it,” Eliza quickly cut in. “You and Luke are saints, postponing your honeymoon and everything.”
“We don’t mind.” Cassie cast an affectionate glance at her husband of only a few days. “I’ve always wanted to visit Paris in the fall, anyway.”
Luke reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze before Cassie returned her attention to the group. “Luke’s offered his woodworking talents to make Frank a sturdy walker. And although Reed is out of town at a gardening convention right now, he’s volunteered to handle Frank’s landscaping needs as soon as he gets back.”
As Penny listened to Cassie tick off the various tasks already taken care of, her heart warmed. This was what she loved most about living in a small town—the way everyone came together, utilizing their unique skills to help someone in need. Reed Hollis ran the local nursery, and although he already spent every day tending two acres of lush flower beds, he didn’t hesitate to lend a hand.
And neither did anyone else in the room.
Well… except for one.
Penny realized Colt had been uncharacteristically quiet during the entire exchange. Not that she was all that surprised. Colt didn’t do community. In fact, he prided himself on his nomadic, solitary lifestyle, preferring his ridiculous—and often dangerous—adventures to anything as mundane as helping a friend in need. To be honest, she wasn’t sure why he was even here. Last she’d heard, he planned to leave town right after the wedding.
Drumming her fingertips against the tabletop, Cassie cleared her throat. “There’s one problem I can’t seem to find a solution for…” She hesitated, drawing in a deep breath before exhaling slowly. “The thing is, Frank really shouldn’t be alone. I realize Beverly or one of us will be there during the day, but what about at night? What if he falls? Or needs help? There should be someone there at all times.”
Cassie seemed to go out of her way to avoid looking directly at Colt. Which struck Penny as odd. It wasn’t as if…
Oh, no! No way. Cassie couldn’t be considering Colt for the job, could she? That would be certifiably insane. Frank needed someone reliable. Not the guy who’d lost their third-grade mascot, Toadious, the weekend he took the classroom’s pet bullfrog home. Or the guy who didn’t merely live life on the edge, he dangled off of it—regardless of the consequences.
No, Colt—aka pandemonium personified—was the last person who should be taking care of Frank. Or a bullfrog. Or anything living, for that matter. Not even a potted cactus should be left in his care.
Penny racked her brain for an alternative. Could she stay with Frank? It would mean relocating Chip for a while, but perhaps….
“I’ll stay with him.”
A hush fell over the room as all eyes turned to Colt.
“Really?” Cassie asked, her lips twitching as though fighting back a knowing grin.
Colt shrugged. “Sure. I can stay in town a little longer. All my stuff’s in storage, anyway.”
At this revelation, Luke straightened. “Why’s your stuff in storage? Where have you been living?”
“Relax, big brother,” Colt drawled, slouching in the chair, both legs stretched beneath the table. “I’d planned on taking a cross-country trip after your wedding, so I didn’t renew my lease.”
“A cross-country trip on your motorcycle?” Luke’s tone dripped with disapproval.
“People do it all the time.” Colt raised his chin, either defensive or defiant, Penny couldn’t tell.
And while she didn’t doubt the truth to his claim, she squirmed at the idea. She wouldn’t come within a foot of that death trap, let alone ride it across the country. Another item to add to the list of Colt Davis’s Catastrophic Decisions.
“Anyway,” Cassie said gently, steering the conversation back on track. “That’s a lovely offer, Colt. Thank you. Is tomorrow too soon?”
“Nope. Mom’ll be disappointed to lose my charming company, but she’ll understand.”
“Great!” Cassie beamed. “Then I’ll count on you to be there.”
Penny nearly chortled at Cassie’s remark. Count on Colt? The notion was laughable.
You could only count on Colt Davis for one thing….
Complete and utter chaos.
The next morning Colt woke to the mouthwatering scent of freshly baked cinnamon rolls—an aroma synonymous with his childhood.
His father used to joke that he fell in love with his mother because of her sweet disposition and married her because of her cinnamon rolls.
At the thought of his father, Colt’s chest tightened.
Flinging back the covers, he swung his bare feet over the side of the bed, blinking in the bright morning sunlight filtering through the handmade curtains.
When the small upstairs bedroom had belonged to him, the curtains were green fabric dotted with footballs and goal posts. Now they featured black and white stripes and mini Eiffel Towers. In fact, the entire sewing/craft/guest room boasted an extravagant Parisian theme, from the window coverings to the artwork on the pale-pink walls to the ruffled lace bed skirt.
While it was strange to see how much his childhood bedroom had changed, he appreciated his mother making the space her own. For years after his father passed away, she wouldn’t touch a single detail, even leaving his toothbrush in the holder next to hers.
After dressing, Colt padded down the creaking staircase into the kitchen, just in time to catch a big whiff of sugar and spice as Maggie slid the tray of cinnamon rolls from the oven.
“I’ll sure miss waking up to this smell in the morning.” Colt drew in an exaggerated breath.
Maggie beamed at him. “And I’m going to miss seeing that handsome face.”
Colt planted a kiss on her forehead before stealing a toasted pecan from one of the cinnamon rolls, flinching as the steam scorched his fingertip. “Are you sure you don’t mind me staying with Frank?”
“Of course not, sweetheart. You’re doing a very kind thing, taking care of a man you barely know. I’m proud of you.”
Warmth spread over his heart as she removed her oven mitts to lightly pat his cheek.
The moment he’d heard Frank’s plight, an image of his father’s frail, cancer-riddled body and crumpled features jolted into his mind. And while not entirely rational, he felt compelled to help out in any way he could.
Avoiding the repressed emotions fighting their way to the surface, Colt popped the pecan into his mouth, crunching loudly as he sank onto the wicker chair at the kitchen table. “I like what you did with my bedroom.”
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Maggie said as she poured them each a cup of coffee.
“Now that you’re retired, why don’t you go back to Paris?”
Her gaze drifted to the postcard of the Champs-Élysées pinned to the front of the refrigerator—a memento from their honeymoon—surrounded by all the postcards Colt sent from his frequent jaunts around the globe. “It wouldn’t be the same without your father.”
“What about somewhere else?” Colt took a sip of the strong, heady brew, relishing the chocolaty undertones. “You used to love to travel.”
He recalled countless stories about her big European adventure after college, the time she brought back the dreaded cuckoo clock from Germany that drove all the men in the family crazy.
As Maggie scooped a warm cinnamon roll onto one of her favorite Blue Willow collector’s plates, she murmured wistfully, “That was a long time ago.”
“Do you still have the tickets?”
Her hand froze midair, the plump pastry poised on the end of the wide metal spatula. After a long pause, she slipped it onto the plate. “Yes, I do.”
She’d bought open-ended airline tickets when his father went into remission. They had grand plans to travel the world after Luke’s graduation from law school. But then the cancer returned, a million times more aggressive than before. His health deteriorated quickly, and they lost him four months later.
Colt forced the painful memories aside with a gulp of coffee, wincing as it burned the back of his throat. “Why don’t you use them, Mom? You were always talking about vacationing on a quiet beach with a comfy lounge chair and a stack of books. The Greek Isles are beautiful this time of year. You could take a friend with you.”
Maggie set the plates on the table and settled in the chair beside him. “Maybe someday.”
Colt bit back a sigh. She’d been saying the same thing for almost a decade. “Want me to take you? I’m a pretty good tour guide.”
She smiled softly. “I’m sure you are, sweetheart. And I appreciate the offer. Maybe someday.”
There were those words again. Maybe someday.
His parents recited the mantra their entire marriage.
And one thing he’d learned from his father’s passing was that the only thing worse than living with regrets…
Was dying with them.