Chapter 11

At a few minutes after four o’clock—closing time—on Wednesday, Ruth sank onto a chair at a table next to the large front window for a few moments’ rest. It had been an unusually busy afternoon at Sips and Scentimentals. Camila had left an hour earlier for a doctor’s appointment, and Gina had the day off. Which meant closing the shop was up to Ruth.

She closed her eyes. On days like this, when her feet hurt and she longed for nothing so much as a soak in the tub, she wondered if she was crazy to run a business at her age. After all, Walter had left her financially stable. Even if she lived well into her nineties, as her mother and grandmother had before her, she wouldn’t have to worry about money.

Then again, she hadn’t opened her shop because she needed the income. She’d opened it because she’d needed something to fill her days. Days that had seemed impossibly empty after her husband passed.

She opened her eyes and looked around, memories flooding in.

The gift shop area was where Walter’s private office had once been. He’d had a large oak desk and a creaky old swivel chair that they’d bought at an auction soon after they’d moved to Thunder Creek to begin his practice. Nearly every spare inch of wall space had been lined with bookshelves. The shelves were still there, but now they held merchandise rather than medical books.

What had once been the reception area, front office, and exam rooms was now the tea shop, the floor space filled with tables and chairs. No trace of a doctor’s office remained. Instead, feminine touches in her favorite pastel colors were everywhere. New plate-glass windows had been installed to let in the sunlight, making everything inside more inviting.

With a smile, she remembered the way their three children used to come visit their father when they got home from school. Walter had always made time for them, and his receptionist had known better than to book appointments during that half hour. How precious those years had been, she thought now. And how brief. Overnight, it seemed, they’d grown up. Just as quickly, Ruth and Walter’s grandchildren had grown up too. And finally everyone except Derek and Ruth had scattered in the wind.

“Time and tide wait for no man,” she whispered to herself.

The shop door opened, drawing Ruth’s thoughts to the present. She was prepared to announce that the shop was closed, but seeing Sandra Dooley in the open doorway, she caught herself. “Come in, Sandra.”

“I know it’s after closing time. If you’re busy . . .”

“Don’t be silly. I’m not busy at all. Come on in. What can I get you?”

Sandra shook her head. “I’m not here for that. I’m here for advice.” She closed the door behind her.

“Nothing serious, I hope.”

“Serious to me.” Sandra sank onto a chair opposite Ruth and hooked strands of auburn hair behind her ears.

Ruth thought it beautiful hair too. Even now with a smattering of gray around the temples. The town’s postmaster for over two decades, Sandra was both pretty and intelligent. Of course, Sandra’s sense of humor could be slightly off kilter at times, but that was something else Ruth loved about her. She was amazed that no man had managed to entice the attractive woman into marriage. Not that there hadn’t been offers. Sandra simply loved her independence—or so she said. However, unless Ruth missed her guess, romance was heating up between Sandra and the owner of a bookshop in Caldwell.

“How can I help?” she asked when Sandra didn’t begin on her own.

Her friend tapped the tips of her polished fingernails on the table. “You know I’ve been seeing Lou Connolly for several months.”

“Mmm.” It seemed her suspicions were about to be confirmed. “You’ve mentioned that a time or two.”

“Well, what I didn’t mention is . . . I’ve been seeing another man too.” She stopped tapping her nails. “For about the same length of time.”

“Good heavens. Who?”

Sandra gave her head a small shake. “No one you’d know. He lives in Ontario. His name is Forrest. Forrest Blanchard.”

“I see.” Although she wasn’t certain she did.

“He’s the spitting image of Richard Armitage. You know. The actor.”

Ruth had no idea who that was. She rarely went to movies, and she watched almost no television. But she chose to nod in silence.

“The thing is . . .” Sandra drew in a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. “The thing is I like both Lou and Forrest quite a lot. I love them, really. Each in their own way. And they . . . they both love me. They’ve asked me to marry them. I mean, Lou wants me to marry him, and Forrest wants me to marry him.”

“Good heavens,” Ruth said again, this time in a whisper.

“And for the first time ever, I don’t want to say no.”

Afraid she knew the answer this time, Ruth asked, “Not say no to which one?”

“That’s just it. I can’t decide. I need your help.”

Ruth Johnson was not one to shy away from giving advice when asked for it, but this was one of those rare moments when a loss for words was greater than the desire to provide wisdom. Especially since Sandra didn’t profess faith in God, so suggesting prayer or looking for an answer in the Bible weren’t meaningful options.

“How did you know Walter was the one?” Sandra asked. “I mean, really absolutely positively know for certain that you wanted to spend your life with him.”

This brought a smile at last to Ruth, as thoughts of Walter always did. It hadn’t been like that the first year or so after his passing. Back then, thoughts of him had brought tears and longing and loneliness. But now that he’d been gone a few years, grief had softened into sweet memories and an ever-increasing awareness of eternity.

Sandra’s nail tapping resumed, harder this time, translating impatience instead of nerves.

“I loved him,” Ruth answered softly. “And he loved me. It was as simple as that.”

“Love doesn’t guarantee happiness in marriage. You know that, Ruth. All you have to do is look at the number of divorced people we know right here in town to realize that truth. Most of those people started out in love.” Sandra shrugged. “Maybe they all started out in love. But it didn’t last. How do you know it will last?”

Ruth heard familiar words replay in her memory. “Love is patient. Love is kind.” Words from the Bible that had been spoken in countless wedding ceremonies for decades, perhaps centuries, including at her own. But how many people lived up to them? “Love is not jealous. Love does not seek its own way. Love doesn’t take into account a wrong suffered.” Even she and Walter hadn’t lived up to them. Not without the help of the Holy Spirit, and even then not all the time. There had been countless opportunities during their marriage to ask each other for forgiveness and to learn humility in the bargain.

“You’re right, Sandra. Love isn’t enough. Not if what you mean by love is that butterflies-in-your-stomach sensation. It takes ever so much more than that.”

Sandra closed her eyes for a moment. “You’re going to get all Christian on me, aren’t you?”

“Probably.” Ruth smiled. “But you knew that when you walked through that door.”

Sandra met her gaze. “All right. Let me have it.”

Hank McLean often asked Derek to join him for dinner on nights when his wife worked late and their kids were with his in-laws. Most of the time, Derek declined. He always had a lot of chores awaiting him at home, and spending money on dining out when there was food in the fridge seemed foolish. But today when Hank asked him, Derek accepted. Maybe that unexpected answer came easy because he no longer felt the same urgency to save money. For now, the Hallston property was out of reach.

Hank was a twenty-year veteran of the sheriff’s department, and Derek had cause to admire the man on multiple fronts. Hank put God, wife, and children before anything or anyone else. He was honest and steadfast, never rushing to make a decision before considering all sides. He was a lot like Derek’s dad, which might be another reason Derek liked him so much.

The two men entered the Moonlight Diner a little after six o’clock. About three quarters of the booths and tables in the L-shaped room were occupied. After a quick glance around, Hank led the way to the empty booth at the far end. Derek would have selected the same table—the one with a view of the entire diner as well as the door.

The waitress arrived with eating utensils wrapped in paper napkins, two glasses of ice water, and menus. As she placed everything on the table, Derek glanced up to say thanks. The word stuck in his throat when he saw Brooklyn in white shirt and black skirt, the uniform of the female wait staff at the Moonlight.

Hank didn’t have the same problem. “Thanks.”

That loosened Derek’s tongue. “You got the job.”

“I got the job.” She didn’t look at him as she positioned her pencil over her order pad. “Do you want something to drink while you decide?”

Her tone was cool. In fact, Derek thought icicles could form in the air.

“Water for me,” Hank answered.

“Water’s fine for me too.”

“Okay.” Still not looking at Derek, Brooklyn slid the pencil behind her ear. “I’ll give you a few minutes to decide what you want to eat, and I’ll be back.”

After she walked away, Hank said, “I take it you know her.”

“Brooklyn Myers. Chad Hallston’s widow. And my new neighbor.”

“I see.”

Of course his friend understood. Derek had talked often to Hank about his plans for those ten extra acres. Hank also knew that Chad’s will had changed things. But Derek hadn’t shared the most recent events, including how he’d felt Brooklyn misled him.

“Did I perceive a bit of frost between you two?”

Derek released a short, humorless laugh. “Just a bit.” Quickly he caught his friend up on the details about Brooklyn’s plans for the land and the words they’d exchanged the previous Sunday and the way he’d felt about them since.

“But you still haven’t apologized.”

“No. We haven’t run into each other until now.”

“Maybe you need to take the initiative. You think?”

Derek hesitated before answering, “Yeah. I know you’re right.”

“Is your problem only about the land?”

He frowned as he mulled over the question. “Probably not. I didn’t like her when we were younger, and I expected to feel the same way about her when she came back. But I’ve realized that my feelings were because she came between Chad and me. Our friendship was never the same after he took up with her, and I blamed her for it.” He looked at Hank. “Truth is she isn’t at all what I expected. She’s never had it easy, from what I can tell. But she hasn’t let it knock her down and keep her there. She’s got what Gran would call gumption.”

The object of his comments returned to their booth. Pencil once again in hand, she asked, “Are you ready to order?” There was a little less frost in her voice this time.

Derek nodded. “I am.”

“Me too.”

Brooklyn’s gaze went to Hank first. “What can I get you?”

A short while later, orders taken, Brooklyn headed for the kitchen at the back of the diner. Derek watched her go. She moved easily, in a way that said she was comfortable in her job. When Derek looked back at Hank, he found his friend smiling, as if he’d discovered a secret. He felt his own eyes widen when he realized what the look meant. “Don’t even think it, Hank. You know I’ve sworn off women for the time being.”

His friend nodded, but amusement remained in his eyes.

Derek didn’t feel the same way. His last relationship had ended on a bad note, his former girlfriend accusing him of being more interested in his tomatoes and carrots than in her. Sadly, that was probably the truth. If he’d been serious about her, it wouldn’t have been that way. He was sure of that. And since he had no time to get serious, he had no intention of dating anybody. Especially not his new neighbor. That would be a big mistake, he was sure.

“All right,” Hank said. “Have it your way. But one day you’re going to meet the right girl, and everything will change.”

“Maybe. But it’s not going to be now.”

For a short while, as they waited for their dinners to arrive, Hank and Derek talked about recent changes within the Thunder Creek Sheriff’s Department. Nothing earth shattering, but there were some employees who resisted any kind of change, even in a department as small as theirs.

Derek’s stomach growled right as Brooklyn arrived, balancing a large round tray that held their dinners. Derek suspected the smile hovering at the corners of her mouth was because she’d heard the growl too. He also couldn’t help noticing that she looked dwarfed beneath the tray. She’d always been a slight thing—narrow shoulders, not an overabundance of curves—yet still undoubtedly feminine.

“Here you go, gentlemen.” Moments later, the plates were on the table. “Anything else I can get you?”

Both men shook their heads.

“Okay, then. Enjoy.”

With a quick smile, she turned and walked toward a nearby booth with a new customer. Before she got very far, however, she stopped in her tracks. Even though she faced away from him, Derek could tell something was wrong. Everything about her body posture screamed tension.

His gaze shifted to the customer, and alarm bells went off. It was Reggie Myers. How had he missed him coming in? As he watched, Brooklyn squared her shoulders and took the last few steps to her dad’s table.

Reggie looked up and scowled. “I’d like a different waitress.” His voice carried to the diners in nearby booths.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Brooklyn answered, her voice lower but still audible. “Lucca’s busy with her own tables. What can I get for you?”

“Send her anyway. Anybody can wait on me but you. I don’t want you.”

“That’s unfortunate, because I’m the waitress you’re stuck with.”

There was strength in her voice rather than anger or hurt, and Derek felt a spark of pride in her.

Then Reggie called her a foul name. The diner went dead silent.

In an instant Derek pushed up from the booth and strode to Brooklyn’s side. “Mr. Myers, maybe you should leave.”

“You can’t throw me out. I’ve as much right to be here as anybody.” Reggie sneered at Derek, challenging him. “Are you going to arrest me if I don’t go?”

“You do have a right to be here, sir, unless you cause a public disturbance. Swearing at your daughter loud enough for the entire dining room to hear qualifies as a disturbance, in my opinion.”

Reggie cursed.

Derek drew himself up to his full height. “Don’t make me tell you again, Mr. Myers.”

For a moment, Reggie stared up at him, and Derek could see the calculating going on behind his eyes. In the end, Reggie held his tongue. Instead, he shot an angry glare at Brooklyn, rose, and marched out, shoving the door hard enough to make it shudder against the frame.

Silence returned, uncomfortable, almost anxious. Then, one by one, the other customers turned their gazes upon their plates. A few tried to resume normal conversations. But it was all a pretense. The air was thick with embarrassment, curiosity, questions, and more. Not only that. Brooklyn had begun to tremble.

Derek took hold of her arm near the elbow. “Come with me,” he said softly. His gaze swept the room. Heads ducked again. They took a couple of steps, then Brooklyn seemed to crumple into herself. He caught her with an arm around her waist. “Easy does it.” He escorted her outside into the warm summer evening and away from staring eyes and listening ears. Thankfully, her father was already out of sight. Still, Derek turned her away from the parking lot and guided her toward a bench beneath a neighboring shop awning.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He sat beside her. “No problem.”

They were silent for a short while before Brooklyn said, “Your dinner’s getting cold. You should go back in.”

“Not yet. Not until I know you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. It’s just . . . It’s just that I didn’t expect that to happen. Dad used to . . . He used to hide his anger better than that. He could be gruff, even rude, but he rarely made scenes in public.”

“But he was like that with you? In private.”

The silence was longer this time. So long he didn’t think she would answer. But finally she whispered a reply. “Yes.”

He heard acceptance, resignation, perhaps even forgiveness in that one little word. And it tugged at his heart. “I’m sorry, Brooklyn.”

She shook her head, as if to tell him she didn’t want his pity.

“I’m sorry about the other day too. I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you. It wasn’t fair of me.”

She studied him, no doubt wondering if he meant what he said.

“Maybe we can start over.” He offered a hint of a smile. “Okay, neighbor?”

She inhaled and let the air out slowly. “Okay, neighbor.” Then she stood. “I need to get back to work. I don’t want to lose my job the very first week.”

“Zach won’t fire you over this. He knows Reggie. We all do.”

“Maybe he won’t fire me, but he would have the right to.” She took a couple of steps away, then looked back at him. “Thanks, Derek, for trying to help with my dad. I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing.”

A half smile curved her mouth, although sadness remained in her blue-gray eyes. “You’d have done the same for anybody, right?” she stated. “It’s your job as a deputy.”

He hesitated, then shrugged. Although he wouldn’t admit it to her, he wasn’t sure if what she’d said was true. Helping her had felt more . . . personal than that.

Brooklyn managed to finish her shift with a modicum of efficiency. But always she was aware of eyes watching her. Lucca, the other waitress. Peter, the cook. Zach, her boss. The customers. Even the ones who came in long after her dad had left, no doubt having heard the gossip from others.

It wasn’t that what he’d done or said in the diner had surprised her. Not really. The surprise had been how much his words had unexpectedly hurt. Shouldn’t that have changed by now? Shouldn’t her visit the day after she got back to town have somehow made it easier to deal with his rejection? It had been crystal clear then that the relationship was not going to get better.

She wasn’t afraid of her dad. Not like she’d once been. He wouldn’t physically hurt her anymore. But that ache in her heart for the loving dad she’d never had . . . That pain never seemed to go away. It lingered in the far corners of her heart. Maybe it was worse because her daughter had never had a loving dad either. Her own situation was beyond her control, but Alycia’s? That was Brooklyn’s fault. She hadn’t chosen wisely. Still a child herself, she’d rushed into marriage without any idea of how immature and selfish Chad was, without any clue that he would leave as soon as the novelty of an elopement wore off.

As she drove home after work, she remembered Derek’s arm around her back as he’d escorted her outside. There’d been a moment when she’d wanted to sink into his support. She had felt sudden and complete exhaustion, emotionally and physically, and it would have been nice to allow someone else to carry the burden, at least for a short while.

That she would have allowed that “someone” to be Derek Johnson either horrified or amazed her. She wasn’t sure which. Perhaps both. Still, it was nice that he’d apologized. She would much rather be on friendly terms with her next-door neighbor. And, to be fair, maybe her distrust of men had kept her from telling him the whole truth when he’d asked about the land. Maybe it had appeared to him as if she’d lied to his face, giving him the right to be a little angry.

The front porch light welcomed Brooklyn as she pulled into the driveway. She stopped the car at the side of the house and turned off the engine, then sat still, allowing the night air to settle around her.

“God,” she whispered. “Help me not to distrust without reason. Don’t allow my past with my dad and with Chad to color my future relationships with other men.” She drew a deep breath. “And help me forgive my father. Even if he never changes. Even if he can never love me or treat me kindly, don’t let me become like him. Don’t let bitterness take hold in my heart.”

Crickets chirped and frogs croaked. Leaves rustled softly in the nearby trees. Tears filled her eyes.

“Lord, You’re my heavenly Father, but I’m not sure I know how to experience You that way. I don’t always know how to respond to You as a beloved daughter. I struggle with it all the time, and I know that’s because of my earthly father.” A tear splattered onto the back of her hand. “Please don’t let it be that way for Alycia. Please, God, help her know how loved she is by You.”

She opened her eyes and reached for the car door, feeling a sudden need to hold her daughter in her arms.