Epilogue

Dinner with the pastor was one thing I’d put off. Not out of wanting to get avoid it, but with so much going on with the funeral, Gran and solving a murder. Musical research for the church or a date wasn’t my top priority. I kept my commitments to practice and service, but life in a small town proved far busier than I remembered.

We’d sat through an hour of videos, but dinner was the real event. There was no mistaking that. I freshened up in the ladies’ room of a nice restaurant. I’d gone with a blue sundress. Not too formal but not too casual. I didn’t regret it until he said Italian. Pasta sauce splattered on my dress showed how inelegant I could be at times.

I touched up my lipstick and added a bit of perfume. One last check of my phone to make sure Gran or her fellas hadn’t texted, then I was done. I headed to our booth and settled in.

“Would you like some wine?” Luke asked.

I looked up from the menu. “No, thank you.”

“You don’t have to be extra anything because I’m a pastor,” he said.

“I’m not. I have the grand reopening tomorrow. It’ll be an early and very long day. I might have a glass of wine tomorrow night after all the work.”

“Smart.” He held up his hands in defeat. “I should’ve waited for this until after the reopening.”

“No, it’s been too long. I agreed to this and I was looking forward to it, but then so much happened. I appreciate your patience. I never planned to get so involved with…” I sighed.

“Gus?” he supplied.

“No, Gus and I are just friends right now. There may have been a flirtation, but I found out he just very recently broke off an engagement. He’s a great sheriff and everyone has a past, but not everyone is upfront about it. I don’t mean to gossip, but you deserve the truth about where things stand.”

He put his hand on mine as I held the menu. “It’s not gossip when it happens to you. But there is some stuff that people don’t want to talk about early in a relationship. In those first couple of dates, it’s seeing if you’re compatible and have chemistry.”

“Very true. Let’s just have a nice dinner and find out if we want to do it again?” I suggested.

“Sounds wonderful,” he said.

We ordered and talked about the music.

“I heard your grandmother was allowing a rock band to park on her property when they’re in town?” Luke asked.

“She is. I was surprised but, you know, random acts of kindness… They’re helping clean up the acreage. I think she’s going to bring in goats.” I chuckled.

“Goats?”

I nodded. “I remember when she sold them off. I cried. Baby goats are adorable, but she needed the money. They eat anything but they eat a lot of it.”

“Sold for?” Luke asked with trepidation.

“Meat. I mean, the baby ones could go and be part of a dairy or petting zoo. Some people adopt them for pets now. Very different. A dairy with a petting zoo or adoption option would be the smart thing. Fancy cheese and milk—when the goats get a bit on in age, sell them off to a meat distributor. Goat is as good as beef.”

Luke looked around. “You’re lucky this isn’t hardcore cattle country. Those could be fighting words,” he teased.

I laughed. “True enough out west. Barbecue goat isn’t a big business here, but there’s a market. Cattle ranching would just be too much money, work and too big animals. We’d need staff. I think the goats we could get along, and have some teens from town coming in and feeding them, cleaning up a bit, and so on.”

“They could run a dairy?” Luke asked.

I chuckled. “No, just to get started. That dairy thing is more of a pipe dream. Lots of equipment and trained staff. We’re not in a position for that. But ranching goats for pets or dinner is feasible. Grandpa did it with no help and he worked a full-time job.”

Luke grinned and tried to hide it.

“What?” I asked.

“You in that pretty blue dress, so proper playing the piano. I can’t imagine you chasing around a goat pen all muddy.”

“I’ve done my share of manual labor. Mucking goat pens or picking up after Gran’s dogs. Cooking and baking are now just as menial to some. Where did the pride in service go?” I asked.

“The world is not what it used to be. That’s why I’m grateful to be in a small town. Working with your hands is every bit as important as pushing papers or online businesses. If the world lost its power or Internet connection for a week, how would people live?”

“Don’t tell me you like zombie and apocalyptic stuff?” I asked.

“It’d be slightly wrong for a pastor to admit, but considering the rapture potential and tribulation is all coming, preppers aren’t all crazy. Some are, but not all,” he said.

“That’s another reason goats are smarter to ranch than cows.”

He frowned and cocked his head. “Why?”

“Think about it. If you have your family or a small group, say fifteen people, and if you butcher a whole cow, it’ll take a while to eat through all that meat. How do you refrigerate it?” I asked.

“A huge problem,” he agreed.

“A goat is a smaller animal. You’ll be able to use up the meat more efficiently without waste. Plus, they breed faster, have more than one kid at a time, and don’t eat nearly as much as a cow.” I sipped my water.

“What’s your favorite zombie show?” he asked.

I grinned. The pastor’s shining exterior had given way to actual interests and we had something more than music in common.

 

* * * *

 

The grand reopening was packed beyond my hopes. People enjoyed the smoothie samples and coffee drinks. The tension of murder was gone and now the truth was out.

“Oh, my, Belle, were you really there?” Martha had her two girls while her mom hung back a bit.

“I was. I got an email from Hank about how he couldn’t make this and I didn’t know he delivered for a nursery. It just clicked. He’d been hanging around Sweet Grove more than normal. I thought it was for his aunt, but…” I waved at the cute girls who had their mom’s hair and big brown eyes. “Who are these cuties?”

“Bonnie had no use for Hank.” Martha winked at me. “Glad you and Gus got the mean man. This is Melissa and Cecilia, better known as Missy and Cissy. Girls, this is my friend from high school, Belle.”

“Like Belle from Beauty and the Beast?” Missy asked.

“It’s spelled the same. Short for Annabelle,” I said.

“They should’ve called you Ella, then you’d be a princess, like Cinderella,” Cissy shouted.

“Belle is a princess and she has a library,” Missy argued.

“Cinderella is better,” Cissy sniped back.

“You know what, you two look like the princesses here. Would you help me test out a new smoothie? It’s called the Princess Smoothie! Expert taste testers needed,” I said.

The girls looked at each other, even putting their foreheads together. Then they turned and in unison said, “Okay.”

“Don’t let them be any trouble for your work,” Martha’s mom said.

“No trouble at all. It’s new and it has to be just right,” I said. “Can I get you something?” I looked at Martha and her mom.

“Just a coffee, plain,” Martha’s mom said.

“Martha?”

“I’ll try one of those coffee iced flavored things,” she said.

“Any flavor specifically?” I asked as I led the girls behind the counter and put them in stool high chairs. “Stay here. Your thrones need you.”

The girls sat up straight. Martha stayed close on the other side to keep an eye on them.

“Hazelnut, if you have it,” Martha said.

Gran laughed from behind the register. “She’s got everything. Belle, the bread is cooling. Last batch in the oven.”

“I can help, if you need it,” Martha offered.

“Thanks. I think we have things under control for now,” I replied.

Lurlene sauntered up to the counter. “This caramel mocha iced coffee is too much mocha and not enough caramel.”

“Wicked witch,” I heard Cissy whispered to her sister.

“Girls,” Martha scolded.

I filled the blender with fruit and milk and a bit of food coloring to give it that popping princess pink. As I blended, Gran added caramel syrup to Lurlene’s drink.

“If you want another one, I’ll remake it,” I offered.

Lurlene smiled politely. “No. I’m just more of a caramel girl, I guess.”

“Let us know if needs more or you want a different one. We could make one just for you? The Caramel Bomb.” I never said I was good at naming drinks.

“Like a cherry bomb.” Martha laughed. At least she got it.

Katie and her brothers came in and I couldn’t miss them.

Lurlene glanced over. “This is perfect. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” I called. “Gran, Martha’s mom needs a black coffee, plain, please.”

“On it.” Gran clapped her hands together.

I had a mix of fruits but added a bit of fruit punch flavoring for the kid’s smoothies and blended it extra smooth. I started Martha’s iced coffee while I was at it. Gran’s guys were mainly on cleanup and stocking today with so many people out there. The preserves and muffins were flying off the shelves.

“You know what else you should sell? These little mason or preserve jars are adorable. Mason jar mugs for coffee and tea, and like cute little regular mugs with uplifting sayings. And those tumbler things for iced coffee or tea. Do you have sweet tea on the menu?” Martha asked.

“Don’t tell people their business,” Martha’s mom scolded as she took her coffee from Gran.

“Those are great ideas, Martha. It’ll cost a bit to stock the inventory, but if I can find a place to start small, there is room here for more shelves.” I pointed to the walls that needed paintings or a little merch for display.

The beeping from the back made me stop. “Oven.”

“I’ll get it in a minute.” Gran looked overwhelmed with the people.

“I can handle an industrial oven.” Martha scooted back behind the counter. “Is that okay?”

“Martha, you’re a lifesaver,” I said.

“An hour late and I’m replaced.” Katie made it to the counter.

“Never.” I hugged her and whispered in her ear, “Please help Gran with the register. She’s good, but slower than molasses in January.”

Katie winked. “Gran, you need a break. I’ve got the register.”

“No, you’re our guest,” Gran insisted.

“Gran, she came to help us like I help her at the bar,” I called.

“Uncle Milan, Gran needs a break. Take her to the diner,” Katie overruled.

“You girls just want to talk boys and have fun. I could use some air,” Gran relented.

She got applause as she left.

“Boys are dumb,” Missy said.

“Some of them definitely are,” Katie agreed.

I poured their drinks into non-breakable glasses and grabbed the whipped cream. “Now the crowns.”

I tried to get them as high as I could as the girls cheered. Then I added sprinkles and straws.

“Princesses, please taste your smoothies,” I said.

Martha’s mom had her cell phone out and recording. The girls sipped and dabbed their fingers in the whipped cream.

“Excellent!” Cissy declared.

Missy stuck her nose in the air. “I like purple better, but it tastes really good!”

“Color options. Good note. Purple, pink, rainbow?”

The girls grinned like Cheshire cats. “Yes!”

“Bright blue,” Cissy suggested.

“Bright blue. Sounds like a plan. Now sit tight and enjoy, I have to check on the bread.” I dashed in the back.

Martha had the bread out and cooling. “No more?”

“No, we’re just testing it out. I made one batch yesterday and it wasn’t perfect.” I sliced a cooled loaf and added some butter. “The girls are adorable.”

“You’re good with them. Thanks.” Martha cut her own slice. She tried it without butter. “That’s really good!”

“Gran’s recipe.” I tried it. “That’s the bread I remember from my childhood. Sandwiches might be a thing.”

“And soup. With that bread, soup in the winter. That’s a hit.” Martha nodded.

“Gran and I can’t do this alone. You wouldn’t be looking to leave the grocery store, would you?” I asked.

“Work here?” she asked.

“I need someone here who can juggle customers, blend drinks, prep food and even handle the oven without getting overwhelmed. Gran and her guys run at a different pace and that’s fine for most people—they can clean and restock and handle the slow periods. But the breakfast and lunch rush…no way. Plus in between the baking now, I’d need someone from, like, seven to three for sure. We bake the sweet stuff at home and are in early to prep,” I said.

“Yes!” Martha burst out with a smile.

I frowned. “We haven’t even talked salary. And I’d need you on weekends too.”

“Working for my mom at the grocery store is… It’s like I’m still a kid. I love her helping with my girls, but I feel like I’m constantly reminded I screwed up and it’s a pity job. I can do this. The girls’ dad gets them every other weekend. My mom never works weekends, so she can cover the others and they might drop in to visit, if that’s okay?” she asked.

“Sure. I’m glad the girls see their dad,” I said.

“Me too. He’s only in Nashville so he rarely misses a visit. As long as you match what I’m making at the grocery store, I’m in. I’ll start now,” she offered.

“You already have and I appreciate it.” I sliced up the rest of the cooled test loaves and put them in a basket. “Let’s get them hooked on our bread.”

Martha grabbed an apron, put it on, picked up another basket and filled it with the rest of the bread. “We’ll need bread bags and ties to sell by the loaf.”

“You’re on top of things. I love it. Start a list of your ideas,” I said. “Wait. We have to wait for Gran to get back to bring this out.”

Martha nodded and put an empty basket over the bread to help keep it warm. We headed out and the girls, hopped up on sugar, were excited that their mom worked here now. The stink eye from Martha’s mom was hard to ignore, but I sensed an undercurrent of pride.

Katie’s brothers were in for the protein smoothies. Apparently, they lifted weights at a gym not far from her bar. One of them was decidedly avoiding eye contact with me, but I hadn’t blabbed a single thing around town regarding him and Hank.

“Great shop, Belle,” one of them said.

“We’ll get out of the way now,” another said.

They put some money in the tip jar.

“Thanks, guys!” I called.

“Did they pay?” I asked Katie.

“Naturally, but I think you need a punch card thing. Like, buy five fancy coffee drinks or smoothies and get the sixth one free.”

“Or an app. Your own store app,” Martha said.

“I appreciate cha both. The app might be too ambitious for right now unless we know someone who’ll design and maintain it for free. Punch cards we can order along with business cards,” I replied.

Martha groaned. “This hazelnut drink is heavenly. You need to put it in a frozen coffee form.”

We had a tiny break from the rush and I mixed up a hazelnut frozen coffee drink while Katie showed Martha the ropes of the register.

Martha’s mom came over. “I should take the girls to the park. Let them run off the energy.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Martha said.

She came over to me with a ten-dollar bill. “You didn’t charge us.”

“Martha works here now. She gets a family discount. The girls’ drinks were my idea. It’s on the house today.” I waved off the money.

“Small businesses are risky, but you’ve got good products. And good workers. Thanks,” she said.

“I only hire the best,” I said. “Bye, Princesses Cissy and Missy.”

The girls waved regally as they left the shop.

Gran and her men rejoined the party. “Bread time!” I said to Martha.

“On it.” Martha dashed to the back and came out with the two baskets of bread.

“What’s going on?” Gran asked.

“I hired Martha to help us. And your bread is ready. It’s perfect.” I let her try it first.

She gave me a thumbs-up with her mouth full.

“Everyone! There is a special treat. At least for me it is. When I was little, Gran made a homemade bread that was to die for. Sweet but not too sweet, it was perfect for jams or sandwiches. We found the old recipe and have been making some test loaves. Martha has the batches for you to take a piece and try. If you love it, we might put it on the menu where you can buy a loaf, or we could make sandwiches with it for lunches. Please do try it, and give us your feedback. There is a suggestion box with paper and pencils by the door. If you want more smoothie flavors, more coffee varieties, more jams or anything, let us know. If you don’t suggest it, you get what you get and you don’t pitch a fit!”

Gran laughed. “We’re not trying to compete with the diner, just to be an alternative. Boxed lunches that are simple and fast. And if you just want the preserves, that’s okay too.”

The patrons applauded and Martha circulated with the bread. I was about to clean up the princess mess of pink on my counter, but Milan was quick with a spray bottle.

“I’m going to duck in back and wash the bread pans for another batch,” I said to Gran and Katie.

“Let Martha do it,” Katie said.

I shook my head. “Let her enjoy the new job. Gran is the star today anyway. Thanks for the help. I’ll be back in a few minutes. A little quiet is good too. Did Lurlene leave?” I glanced around.

“I think she went around the time Gran went for lunch.” Katie nodded.

“Just checking. Thanks. Let me know if you need me.” I patted Gran on the arm.

“It’s never been this busy,” she said.

“That’s your famous bread,” I teased.

In the back, I put the bread pans in hot water to soak for a minute and cleaned as I organized, so we wouldn’t be slammed tonight.

I put on a beat-up old apron and added soap to the sink just as the noise from the front grew louder. Glancing out, I saw Gus was in the shop.

We hadn’t talked much once Hank was under arrest. He’d dropped me at the shop and had a lot of work to do. He’d told me I might be called as a witness to Hank’s confession if he retracted it later. I went back to my dishes before he saw me.

A few minutes of blissful scrubbing later and he tapped on the wall.

“Can I come in?” Gus asked.

“Sure. I’m just cleaning up back here. How are things with you, Sheriff?”

“Fine, I just thought I’d update you. Hank did confess fully. He seemed relieved, in a way.” Gus hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans.

“Good. I’m glad.” I focused on the pans in front of me and not the attractive man next to me.

“We found his stash of the berries. I guess he kept some extras for his mom, just in case,” Gus explained.

“Glad you got the evidence. Oh no, his mother or aunt. She’s so sick and he was the only one. Maybe this was temporary insanity for Hank? He was just so stressed?” I wondered aloud.

“You’re too nice, Belle. Hopefully he gets a jury that understands the mental strain he was under. It’s not our job to convict or dish out the sentence. I contacted the long-term care home and they’re aware of the situation with Hank.” Gus moved closer. “I want to explain about Dina too.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t ask. Your past isn’t my business.”

“I want to explain. Dina and I dated for a while, but it didn’t work out. We were completely wrong for each other,” he said.

“If there’s a ring involved, you didn’t always think it was that wrong. Did you?” I asked.

He sighed. “City life was harder on me. I drank more than I should. There was a case that went bad and things can haunt you. I got to know Dina at the bar and we were off and on. I needed to slow down. Work in a small town, not a big city. I had thought going from Atlanta to Nashville was enough, but it wasn’t. I had some rough cases that make Eddie look like preschool. The move was a big change. I’m not blaming anything on her. I ended things suddenly and moved here.”

“You told her, right?” I asked.

“Told her what?” he asked.

“It’s not my business.” I shook my head. “I have work to do.”

“I’m still trying to ask you out,” Gus said.

I looked at him. Handsome and smart with a job. But also with a past. But it wasn’t his parents or family stigma—this was his ex-fiancée.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I replied.

He leaned on the sink. “Because of Dina or your past?”

“I’m not asking you for details on yours, so you don’t get details on mine. But if Dina is your type, I’m pretty sure I’m not.” I scrubbed like Cinderella—there was no prince coming and I had to make it on my own.

“And I thought you didn’t judge,” he said.

“I don’t. I work in my friend’s bar when she needs it. Honest work is nothing to be ashamed of. But if you’ve given another woman a ring recently enough that she just gave it back—I think you need to settle in here longer before you’re asking women out. Heal from that relationship and be sure Sweet Grove is where you want to be for the long haul before you start dating anyone. It’s not about me or Dina or your past. It’s not fair to anyone to use them to get over someone else.” I had cleaned the pans in record time with the frustration from the chat.

Gus tapped his hat against his thigh. I tried not to look at him too much. Attraction was hard to ignore, but I didn’t want to repeat my mother’s mistakes or Dina’s. This was my home town and I was staying and not making a mess of my personal life. I didn’t need to ruin my reputation…I’d already inherited that much.

“You said it was about your past before. I don’t care about my past or yours,” he said.

“You should. Small towns are tough. The people are forgiving, but they don’t forget. We’re close-knit, so if you prove you can’t be trusted, everyone will know. If you jilted a fiancée in Nashville, you’ll go from the most eligible bachelor to the least. I mean, behind Lou.” I chuckled.

Smiling, Gus nodded. “Thanks for the warning. I’d like to tell you the whole story and I want to know yours. You’re not ready for that yet. I was hoping we’d get to know each other as we are now first. People change, things change and you’re my type.”

“But we don’t really even know each other yet,” I teased.

“You’re stubborn,” he said.

I rinsed the pans thoroughly. “As a mule, and right now I’m focused on this business succeeding, my Gran being safe and comfortable and helping my friends who are also helping me. Hopefully, no more murders for me to stick my nose into. I promise not to speed.”

Gus chuckled softly. “Maybe you’re right? Maybe I should settle in and see if Sweet Grove is right for me. See if I win the election before I try to put down real roots.”

I set the pans out to dry. “Good plan. Let’s get you a coffee.”

“I think I’ll just go. You’ve got quite a crowd out there.” He left.

I took a deep breath. He was attractive and seemed great, but how many men had tricked women like that? He had a past. Of course we all did, but how much of one? Dina might be one of many for all I knew.

Stepping out front, I discovered that Lurlene and the pastor were now at the counter.

“What’s new?” I asked.

Katie turned to me and forced a smile that was a cry for help.

Martha came back with the empty baskets. “People love the bread!”

“Great, how is the stock looking?” I asked.

“Good. Your Gran’s guys are keeping an eye. That’s a bit odd.” Martha blushed

“She’s not dating them all. Just friends, I’m pretty sure. Don’t think about it. I can’t.” I waved it off. “Let’s try your hazelnut frozen thing.”

“Now? That could wait,” Martha replied.

“I need the distraction,” I said to Martha, who looked over at the counter and shot me a sympathetic nod.

“What can we get for you, Pastor? Lurlene?” Katie asked.

I blended up a hazelnut coffee frozen thing as Martha had suggested. Caramel and mocha I’d already planned but hazelnut was a bit different, not for coffee but the frozen version.

“Berry smoothie,” Lurlene said.

“I’ll try whatever she’s working on now,” Pastor Luke said.

I turned. “It’s hazelnut. No allergies, right?”

“None. Sounds heavenly,” the pastor said.

“Heavenly Hazelnut, there’s the name.” Katie snapped her fingers and pointed at him.

“As long as it lives up to the pastor’s approval.” I tasted it quick to be sure it was good. Then I poured him a generous glass full.

Things seemed to quiet down as people waited for the pastor’s opinion.

“Truly delicious and heavenly, with or without the coffee,” he said.

“Heavenly Hazelnut it is,” Gran declared.

“It was all Martha’s idea.” I poured another and handed it to Martha so she could try it.

“A brilliant idea and a lovely shop. I need to visit with Bea.” The pastor slipped from Lurlene’s grip and headed to Gran.

Lurlene sipped her smoothie. “Too many seeds.”

“You want us to de-seed your strawberries?” Martha asked. “I think she’s the real princess.”

I stifled a laugh.

Katie grabbed Lurlene’s glass and took a sip. “It’s perfect. Find something else to complain about. Or find a husband to peel you a bunch of grapes and de-seed your fruit.”

I smiled as Lurlene left in a huff.

“One bad seed gone.” I sighed.

Katie and Martha laughed.

Maybe Lurlene and Gus deserved each other?

I looked over at the pastor chatting with Gran and her friends. I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t want romance and true love. I wanted a relationship that worked and was honest. I wasn’t there yet. I had some work to do on myself and my business. When I was ready, the right man would be too. He might be here in Sweet Grove already, or he might show up.

“Martha, if you want some bartending shifts after the girls go to bed, you let me know,” Katie said.

Strong women didn’t tear each other down—they built each other up. I’d made the right friends. Coming home had been tough, but it was the right choice.

“Crap, I have to sign up for that permit to serve alcohol. We should do that class together, Martha. Then we’re legit if we need to help Katie,” I said.

“Sure. I’ll look it up,” Martha agreed and consulted with Katie on the website.

Gran waved me over. “You get behind the counter. I want a picture of all my girls.”

“Put it on my phone too.” I set my phone on the table.

“Pastor, my hands shake. Take a picture of those three, please,” Gran said.

“Gran, come on. You have to be in here too.” I grabbed her hand.

Gran was in the middle with her arm around me. Katie was on the other side of Gran and, tallest of us, Martha tried to hide behind me with just her head visible. I knew the picture tricks, but whatever made her comfortable.

The camera on my phone flashed a couple of times. Then he used Gran’s phone.

“Perfect. That must be printed and go on the wall,” the pastor said.

“Thanks, Pastor.” I took my phone back and admired the photo.

Pastor Luke stepped in closer. “I wanted to say I was impressed. You managed to stay kind to both Bonnie and Lola in a very uncomfortable position. You helped people without judgment, and that’s not easy to do for a lot people.”

I wiped my hands on my apron. “Thank you. Everyone has secrets, and finding the truth is complicated.”

“You’re staying in town then? I heard talk of Atlanta or maybe a job in Nashville?” he asked.

I blushed and looked around. “A friend from Atlanta was interviewing in Nashville. She was just talking about a chance at a job for me if she gets it. Don’t count your chickens. And moving to Atlanta is a last resort—I have to be able to take care of Gran.”

“You can make it work here.” He sounded very confident.

“Well, can’t never could, but please put in a good word with the man upstairs.” I waved.

“Done. See you for choir practice.” He smiled and walked away.

Was he flirting with me? I shook off the praise and flattery that was going to my head. I focused on the picture and all the work ahead of me.

No doubt about it, I was home.