The Way To A Soldier's Heart. Gina Wilkins

bar while studying the little girl in the play area behind the counter. Something about Shane’s expression caught Elle’s attention. For a fleeting moment, he just looked so...well, sad, she decided. How could anyone look at her daughter’s adorable blue-eyed, dimple-chinned face and still feel sad?

      It took Charlotte only moments to work her magic. The little girl giggled at Shane and he smiled in response. A real smile, Elle noted. It pushed sexy, shallow dimples into his lean cheeks. Wow. Once again, she felt warmth surging.

      Shane glanced at Elle then, as if sensing her watching him, and she made an effort to compose her expression. “Cute kid you have there.”

      “Thank you.”

      Now that the other customers were seated at their customary table in a cozy corner, Elle’s mom approached Shane with her characteristic curiosity about a new face in the shop. Especially, Elle thought wryly, a handsome male face.

      “Well, hello there. I haven’t seen you in here before. Is this your first time visiting us?” Elle’s Southern-to-the-painted-toenails mother made a habit of greeting and chatting with the customers, finding it hard to imagine that some people simply wanted to place their orders and drink their coffee with a minimum amount of interaction.

      Apparently familiar with regional idiosyncrasies, Shane nodded cordially. “Yes, it is.”

      “I hope it won’t be your last. I’m Janet O’Meara.” She held out one be-ringed and multi-braceleted hand.

      Shane reached across the counter to take her hand. “Shane Scanlon. Nice to meet you.”

      He started to pull his hand away, but Janet held on. Elle almost groaned at the all-too-familiar look on her mother’s face. Not this again!

      “Oh, my goodness. You’ve led quite the adventurous life, haven’t you, young man?”

      Shane shot a quick, questioning glance at Elle before saying cautiously, “I suppose I’ve had my share of adventures.”

      “I sense that you’re a single man. A bachelor.”

      “Yes, I—”

      “And a soldier,” Janet mused, her expression dreamy and unfocused—deliberately so, Elle suspected. “Are you still in the military?”

      “No, I—Wait. How did you—”

      “I knew it!” she crowed, delighted with herself. “You were in the navy, weren’t you? I see you on a submarine.”

      “I was army. A medic. But—”

      “Of course. A healer. And now you’re a doctor.”

      “No, I—”

      “No, not a doctor,” she said quickly. “A... Hmm, you’re in business, aren’t you?”

      “Well, yes.”

      “Of course you are.”

      “Um—”

      Laughing musically, Janet patted their clasped right hands with her left, making more bracelets jingle. “Oh, don’t mind me, dear. Sometimes these things just come to me. I’m a little psychic.”

      “I see.” He extricated himself quickly, though politely enough.

      Janet eyed him with renewed speculation. “Don’t worry, Shane, I don’t know your deepest secrets. Just a few tidbits that came to me when we shook hands.”

      Seeing a frown suddenly darken Shane’s eyes, Elle decided it was time to step in. Past time, probably. “Mom, would you mind checking on the vegetarian chili? It’s been simmering for almost an hour and it’s time to add the corn, in case Amber has forgotten.”

      “Of course, darling.” With one last lingering look at Shane, her mom turned and moved into the kitchen, the swinging door closing behind her.

      Elle gave Shane a rueful smile. “Sorry about that. We’ve chosen to humor my mother’s imaginings, for the most part, but she gets carried away sometimes. It’s a harmless fantasy. She really is a wonderful woman.”

      “So, she’s not really, uh, psychic?”

      Laughing softly, Elle shook her head. “No more than anyone with halfway decent intuition. She read the autobiography of a famous medium a year or so ago, and she’s been convinced ever since that she has the gift. Her predictions are correct about one out of nine times, but that seems to be enough to validate her. Everyone loves her, so we don’t bother arguing with her.”

      Shane seemed to relax a bit, though he asked, “So, how did she know I was in the military?”

      “Sometimes she gets lucky. Maybe it’s the way you carry yourself.”

      Still looking slightly doubtful, he glanced at the kitchen door before his attention was reclaimed by Charlotte, who held up a stuffed dog and announced, “Puppy!”

      “Yes, Charlotte. That’s your puppy,” Elle responded automatically.

      “Charlotte.” Shane repeated the name in a low voice. She looked around at him again and he cleared his throat. “That’s a nice name.”

      “Thank you.” Again, she sensed some emotion in him she didn’t quite understand, but decided she was letting herself be too strongly influenced by her mother. She’d have to be careful about that.

      The bell over the door chimed again, and a couple of college students with backpacks and beeping smartphones strolled in. They, too, were regular customers, drawn to the shop by flavored coffee drinks and free Wi-Fi. It was getting close to lunchtime, so they’d probably linger long enough to order sandwiches. Elle greeted them and rang up their orders. By the time they’d settled into the deep, nautical-print armchairs at the back of the shop, Shane had slipped out.

      Looking through the big street windows, Elle saw several cars, pedestrians and bikes passing by, but no sign of the man in the leather jacket. With a sigh, she wondered if she would ever see him again, or if her mom had scared him away.

      Amber Carson, a college business major who, along with several other part-timers, worked at The Perkery to supplement her scholarships, stepped out of the kitchen, smoothing the sunny yellow apron around her waist. Amber’s hair was dyed a dramatic black with a bright blue streak hanging over her left eye. She had several piercings, and she favored stark black clothing and nails painted black except for her thumbs, which matched the blue hair stripe. Above all, she was smart, personable and a hard worker.

      “Would you keep an eye on Charlotte for a few minutes?” Elle asked her. “I’d like to check things in the kitchen.”

      “Of course.”

      Amber smiled fondly at Charlotte, who grinned back and cooed, “Bamber!”

      Leaving everything in Amber’s capable hands, Elle pushed through the door into the kitchen, where her mother was just sliding the first premade salads into the industrial fridge in preparation for the lunch rush. Three varieties of soup were almost ready to serve, their aromas blending into a medley that made Elle’s mouth water. Sandwiches would be assembled from prepped ingredients stored in the fridge, while cookies, pastries and other treats tempted diners from the display cases out in the shop.

      Goodness, she loved this place, Elle thought with a little pang. Now if only she could be confident her business partner still felt the same way...

      Closing the refrigerator door, her mom turned to ask her, “Is that nice-looking fellow still hanging around?”

      “If you mean that poor man you grabbed out there, then no, he’s gone. I think you scared him away.”

      “I did not grab him,” her mom retorted indignantly. “I simply shook his hand. He happened to have a very strong aura.”

      Elle could secretly agree—if, by aura, her mother meant a very attractive appearance. It didn’t take any special talents to have noticed that.

      “Well,