Recipe for a Homecoming Read online

Page 9


  The challenge after that was sitting down with Ben Nadler, the bank manager, to present her business plan. Lizzie and Mark insisted on going with her, but Roni was certain it was the pastries she brought, made with fresh Rainier cherries, that sealed the deal...not the looming cowboy behind her. Though, to be honest, it didn’t hurt that the Stirlings had the most successful ranch this side of the Columbia River. Mr. Nadler must have been relatively certain he wouldn’t be losing anything on this deal with the Stirlings standing behind her. Her loan was approved on the first try.

  Sam insisted they not wait until the money came through to start on the to-do list, and organized immediate work parties to clean out and renovate the old kitchen. Gram had been using it as a bolt hole for books she didn’t want to put on the shelves, so there were a lot of old romances in there, as well as the occasional murder mystery. Beyond that, they found more shelving, an antique pastry-display case that Luke insisted on refurbishing and a very old but adorable cash register. There were a ton of random items in there, as well, some dating back to the 1920s, including some pretty Depression glass, an old butter churn and a completely rusted egg beater. Some of the items ended up in the dumpster, but Roni salvaged a lot of them, because she knew the antiques would make charming decorations for a bakery.

  Word got around town that she was testing recipes, and all of a sudden, the bookshop had visitors aplenty. While she couldn’t sell baked goods until her business license, health inspections and insurance came through, she was more than happy to give away samples. And the people of Butterscotch Ridge were more than happy to eat them. Between word of mouth and the excitement of the residents about having an actual bakery in town again, the whole Stirling clan was certain the shop would be a hit, even if it was part bookshop, as well.

  Each day, Roni saw her goal coming closer and closer to fruition. It was a wonderful feeling, a spiritual healing, perhaps. She could feel the pieces of herself coming together again, joining, strengthening, flourishing. She felt like her true self again, that person she used to be.

  “What are you grinning about?” Mark asked her one day as they finished the second coat of paint. The walls were a beautiful blue—the ceiling, too, because she liked the idea that her bakery might have a sky. The plan was to paint grasses along the bottom and flowers above that. She’d already invited Emma, as well as Crystal and her son to help with that tomorrow.

  This growing friendship with Crystal was another thing that was new to Veronica, and made her feel so good. Crystal was funny and smart and talented; they’d just...clicked. Same with eight-year-old Jack, whom Roni found endearing.

  She glanced at Mark, standing by the back wall with a roller in his hand. And she had to grin. “You’re dripping,” she said on a laugh.

  He looked down and grimaced when he saw spots of blue on his boots. He dropped the roller into the pan. “At least I don’t have blue freckles,” he said as he made his way over the tarp toward her. “How about a break? I could use a rest.”

  “I do not have blue freckles,” she insisted, and laughed again.

  He shrugged and grinned. “If you say so.” He said this with a tone that made her wonder if she did, indeed, have paint on her face. “Didn’t you say you made lunch?” He opened the cooler she’d set by the door and riffled through it, then pulled out wrapped sandwiches and chips and said triumphantly, “Ta-da!”

  “It’s not lunchtime yet,” she reminded him.

  He chuckled. “I’m a growing boy. Come on. Let’s sit outside. It’s a nice day.”

  It was a beautiful July day, with cool breezes and sunshine. They’d put the bistro table and chairs outside during the painting. She liked the look of it so much she started thinking about getting another, and leaving them outside for customers to enjoy on days like this one. She nodded. “Yes. Let’s.”

  They’d barely taken a seat when he returned to his earlier question. “What were you grinning at before?”

  She unwrapped her PB&J and frowned at him. “I’m supposed to remember?”

  “It was a pretty big grin.”

  “Nothing really,” she said as she watched the activity on Main Street. There wasn’t a lot, but she liked it that way. A robin flew down and inspected the sidewalk in front of them for crumbs. “I was just thinking about how happy I am right now.” Sitting there, with him. Soaking in the summer sun. “Hopeful, too.”

  “Hopeful?” He took a swig of his soda. “Hopeful for what?” His expression sobered. “What are you looking for? In life?”

  “Wow. That’s a big question.” She paused and thought for a minute. “I think what I need to be happy is to feel safe. Warm. Protected—”

  He chuckled. “Sounds like you need a German shepherd.”

  She waggled a finger at him. “I see what you’re doing there,” she said playfully. “When I’m ready for a dog, trust me, I’ll let you know.”

  His grin made it clear he was not chagrined.

  “Besides, I wasn’t done. I also need this.” She waved at the store. “A purpose.” She pushed back her bangs when the breeze teased them into her face. “What about you? What do you want?”

  He flinched. “This is where I say I have the perfect life, isn’t it?”

  Something in his tone caught her attention, prompted her to ask, “Is it?”

  Mark traced the beads of condensation on the soda can. He blew out a deep breath. “It should be. Shouldn’t it? I love my work. Love my dogs. Love my family...”

  “But?”

  His barked laugh was bitter. “But...I can’t help wondering if there’s something more. Something I’m missing.” She hated the murky look in his eyes. She wanted to wipe it away, but she didn’t know how.

  “I feel that way, too, sometimes,” she said. “I think everyone does.”

  He raked back his hair. “Right, but then I think, how dare I want more when I already have so much? When some people have nothing?”

  “It’s not a competition. You can’t compare yourself to other people, though I know the temptation is pretty great sometimes. Besides...” She had to clear her throat because something there was clogged. “There’s nothing wrong with seeking fulfillment, no matter how blessed you are.”

  “I know.” He sat back, as though the conversation was over, but then he added, in a softer tone, “Sometimes I wonder...” He trailed off.

  She frowned. “Wonder about what?”

  His sigh was heavy. “Never mind.”

  Really? She glowered at him. “You can’t just bring something up and then just leave it lying there like that.” And then, when he didn’t cave, she crossed her arms and huffed. “I told you my dark secrets. It’s only fair that you tell me yours.”

  “It’s not a dark secret.” True. Nothing about him was dark. That was one of the things she liked about him. “It’s just...dumb.”

  “I can handle dumb. Come on.”

  It took a while for him to find the words. To encourage him, she handed him a cookie, even though he hadn’t finished his sandwich. It was chocolate chip, his favorite. More hopeful birds gathered.

  Mark ate half of the cookie before he spoke. “Okay. You know that my parents both died when I was young. My granddad raised me.”

  She nodded. “I remember him. He let me drive the tractor once.”

  “Yeah. He was...different with girls.” His lips dipped in the corners.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sam couldn’t do anything wrong. We—the boys—couldn’t do anything right.”

  “I am so sorry.”

  “There was more to it than just that. The fact is, Granddad wasn’t a very...warm person. There was no hugging when we were kids. And he was very strict. His expectations were high. We were Stirlings, damn it. Things were expected of us. There was always this constant pressure to please him.”

  “Huh,” she sai
d noncommittally, but inside, she was having serious déjà vu. It had been like that with Anthony, that skulking dark cloud blackening the horizon, that sense that if you weren’t perfect, your world would come crashing down upon you. And it sometimes did.

  “I wonder...”

  “What?” She set her hand on his. She had to. She needed the connection and she suspected he did, too. Indeed, his fingers closed over hers.

  He drew in a deep breath. “I wonder if I’m...damaged. Emotionally. If we’re damaged. You know. Me and my siblings.”

  Roni shook her head. “You seem very loving, very warm with each other. You know, I always envied you your relationships.” She always had. As an only child, she’d craved a family like theirs.

  “Yeah, but look at us. Danny’s the only one who’s taken that risk, and he didn’t grow up in that house. He never even met the old man.”

  “Is that why you never got married?” It was a blurted question. It just slipped out. But, in truth, it had been trying to slip out for a while. He was as close to perfect as she could imagine. Why hadn’t someone snapped him up?

  “You mean, am I incapable of love?” Again, his tone was bitter.

  “I don’t think that at all. How could I?”

  “Well, I do. I wonder. I’ve dated a lot of women.” This he said sheepishly. It wasn’t a boast. “I kept looking for this magic feeling, but it was never there. And then...”

  This time when he paused, she thought he might not continue. He took another deep breath. It bothered her that he turned away. That he couldn’t even look at her as he spoke. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s even possible for anyone to want me. I mean, what do I bring to the table? What do I have to offer anyone?”

  Her heart jerked. Not from his words as much as the pain in his voice. “You’re more than just a pretty face,” she said with a grin.

  “Am I? I’m not so sure.”

  “Mark, look at you. You foster abused dogs. You’re a volunteer firefighter. You help other people... You’re a wonderful person. You would be lovable on any planet.”

  “Well, I appreciate that. I do. It doesn’t change that feeling, though.”

  “The feeling that something’s missing?”

  “Yeah. And that, well, maybe there’s something’s wrong with me, too.”

  “I don’t think there is anything wrong with you. And it’s pretty clear to me that it’s love you’re looking for. That’s what’s missing.”

  He frowned at her. “What is love? I mean, what is it, really?”

  What was it? And was she qualified to provide any answers on the topic? “I suppose it’s a combination of physical, emotional, intellectual and sexual attraction.”

  “Aren’t physical and sexual attraction the same thing?”

  She chuckled. “How like a man to ask. There are, in my humble opinion, subtle differences between the two. For example, you can be attracted to someone and not want to jump their bones.”

  She didn’t understand the look he gave her, but he nodded and tersely offered, “True.” Silence fell as they munched on their sandwiches and chips. Then he said, more to the begging birds that had surrounded them than to her, “How do you know you’re in love, anyway? How do you know if a person really loves you?”

  She finished her sandwich and shook out the paper, causing a flutter in the flock. “Maybe the lady with the failed marriage isn’t the one to ask,” she said on a sigh. “With Anthony, it was his devotion that convinced me he loved me. He showered me with what I thought was love. But it wasn’t. With the benefit of hindsight, and therapy, I can see now that it was just...bait.” She sighed. “Marriage—heck, love—should be a partnership. An equal partnership. But if you want love in your life, Mark, you have to open up to it. You have to take a gamble sometimes.”

  “Yeah,” Mark said as he started cleaning up their mess. “I think you’re right. Love is a gamble.”

  Roni nodded. “And when you gamble big and lose, you aren’t that anxious to try again.”

  “I can think of one way to make sure you never lose.”

  “Never play?”

  He shook his head. “Nope.” His grin was mischievous. “You stack the deck.”

  Stack the deck? She had to laugh; he was just too dang adorable. If she could figure out how to do that, she probably would try.

  * * *

  Mark stayed for supper. Gram enjoyed the company because he was such a good listener. Roni found herself watching him and marveling at how good he was with Gram. When she told the same story three times about the book she’d thought she’d lost, he encouraged her as much as he had the first time. When she occasionally called him Daniel—his father’s name—he didn’t correct her. He was too kind to do so.

  It was hard for Roni to watch him leave that night. Hard to watch the taillights of his truck diminish in the dark from her little balcony. Partly because she hated it when he left, and partly because, it was times like this, in the quiet of the night, that it hit her.

  That hollow loneliness.

  Yes, things were wonderful. Her future was bright. But she couldn’t help but think ahead to a day when Gram would be gone and she would be occupying this apartment, all alone. Living by herself. There would be times like this, wouldn’t there? Where she wished she had someone by her side? When she didn’t want to be alone?

  Brutally, she pushed such gloomy thoughts from her mind. Her decision to remain single was the right thing. She wasn’t in the frame of mind to let a man share her life. Falling in love again might break her.

  The fact that Mark was such a wonderful person lured her into dangerous thoughts. Not to mention those tantalizing trills that ran through her belly when his hand happened to graze hers. Or when their eyes met with a certain intent. Or when he breathed...

  Maybe she should stop spending so much time with him.

  The moment the thought popped into her head, she rejected it. Nope. The prospect of not seeing him, of excluding him from her life, was unthinkable. Her heart leaped every time she spotted him. He stirred excitement in her soul. Their time together was easy and they could talk about anything, even the dark things, as they had today.

  She did care about him—there was no doubt about that. But as a friend. And she was fairly certain he felt the same way about her, too. She and Mark shared a platonic relationship, a safe relationship... Well, other than the feelings of arousal he could raise in her with a look. And the dreams. And the daytime fantasies.

  It nearly broke her heart when he’d told her he worried that he might be damaged, because she could relate to such a fear, though she knew she was damaged. She’d known for a while. Thinking of it made her want to just hold him. Made her want to prove to him that he was worthy, and deserving, of love.

  But she didn’t dare.

  She pushed away those tantalizing thoughts. It was stupid to even think about. She could not be the one to heal him. She needed her freedom, desperately. The thought of commitment terrified her.

  But the thought of being alone terrified her, too.

  Surely those weren’t the only two options. Surely there was something...in between. If only she could figure out what it was.

  * * *

  For the next couple of months, Mark spent a lot of time with Roni. Certainly enough to test his determination to just be friends. While it was getting harder and harder to keep feelings of passion at bay, he had to admit he enjoyed their friendship more than he’d ever thought possible, platonic though it was. Just being with her made him happy.

  He woke up as excited as all get-out on the last Saturday in August, because he knew he was going to spend most of the day with her. He’d volunteered his truck for her big shopping trip to the Tri-Cities. She needed to pick up bulk baking goods and some of the equipment she’d ordered, and her car wasn’t big enough for everything. He’d been ecstatic to have a
chance to spend hours alone with her. He was a little nervous, too, but it was a nervous excitement.

  The plan was that Roni would bring Milly over to the ranch to spend the day with Dorthea while they were gone.

  When he heard Emma excitedly calling out to Roni—because, of course, she’d been watching for her—he headed to the front door, where he spotted her helping her grandmother out of the car.

  Roni glanced up and smiled at him. And stole his breath.

  Damn, she was gorgeous. It was funny the way it surprised him sometimes, just how beautiful she was. He could stare at her forever and never get bored. He forced a friendly grin as she led Milly up the stairs. “You look great!”

  “Well, thank you,” Milly said.

  Roni knew his comment was for her so she chuckled. “Thanks. Lizzie has me eating kefir and drinking kombucha.”

  Mark made a face. “You better be careful around her. She’s a health-food fanatic.”

  Roni shrugged. “But it feels so good.”

  “You’re not turning vegan, are you?”

  Her grin broadened. “And give up bacon candy?”

  Mark pretended to drool as he held the door for them. “Will you be selling bacon candy at the bakery? Think how many customers you’d wrangle.”

  She chuckled. “Well, we’d better wait and see how the bakery fares before we turn to bacon for rescue.”

  “Everybody loves bacon.”

  She waggled a finger. “Not vegans.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, there aren’t very many vegans in this town.” To which they both laughed. This was beef country, after all.

  “I love bacon,” Emma said, in an attempt to win Roni’s attention, which, of course, she did.

  “Well,” Roni said, going down on her knees to hug her, “I’ll make some bacon candy just for you, then.”

  “Will you really?”

  “Of course.”

  Emma threw her arms around Roni’s neck and squeezed with all the enthusiasm a six-year-old bacon lover could muster. As Mark watched them together, something caught in his throat. It was such a sight, these two females he adored hugging in a shaft of sunlight.