Small-Town Hearts. Ruth Logan Herne

cities wore quaint, full-skirted gowns made of the sweet calicos his grandmother employed in her quilt making. And the quiet swish of the dress as Megan moved…

      Just made him wish she’d move more.

      He frowned inward and outward, chasing his errant thoughts away. “I’ve come to buy the candy bars I wanted to purchase earlier.”

      She nodded, slid open the door of an immaculate glass display case and withdrew a wicker basket of wrapped bars. She set the basket on the counter. Danny glanced around, noting the layout, and turned back, nodding. “You’ve picked a good location for the chocolate with summer here. This side of your display is shadowed enough to keep the temperature from fluctuating.”

      One sculpted brow arched in quiet accord. “Chocolate is a delicacy, indeed. If one does not take care to manage it with an eye toward temperature control, one can ruin a batch forthwith. And exposure to the sun will gray it, drawing the composition oils to the surface. Most unappealing.”

      He smiled as he withdrew eight bars. “I don’t find a thing in this store unappealing, Miss Russo.”

      She dipped him another curtsy of acknowledgment, having no idea what her antics were doing to his heart. Or maybe she did. He withdrew another four bars just because he needed to do something that didn’t include staring at her.

      “Danny!”

      He turned, saved by the excited lilt of Ben’s voice. Ben charged forth, open and friendly, not a hint of reticence about him. Danny grinned, acknowledging the warmth, the innocence, the inborn effusive nature. He held out a hand. “I told you I’d come back, didn’t I?”

      “Yes.” Ben turned a scolding look to his sister. “See, Meggie? I told you not to be so grumpy. I told you he’d come back. Didn’t I? Huh?”

      She didn’t miss a beat, just turned her head, gave the young man a quick, friendly nod and smiled. “You did, Ben. I knew I should have heeded your advice.”

      “Yes.” Ben nodded, his expression firm. “I know a lot of things, and people should listen to me more.”

      Megan acknowledged that with a calm look of assent. “I would be well-advised to do so. And Ben, I see other customers approaching. Would you be so kind as to take Mr. Graham’s money for his purchases?”

      “I get to handle money? Yes, I’d be very glad to do it, Meggie!”

      She bestowed a gentle smile of understanding on her brother, sent Danny a “gotcha” look that he didn’t think existed in colonial times and moved off to take care of the new customer, the quiet whisper of her dress marking her exit.

      “H-how many candy bars do you want, D-Danny?”

      He laid the bars on the counter. “All of these.”

      Ben shot him a look of pure, unmitigated excitement, an expression that made Danny miss Uncle Jerry even more. So sweet. How he wished he’d taken more time to spend with Jerry those last years. How foolish he’d been to assume anything lasted forever.

      “Twelve!”

      He nodded and handed over two twenties, determined to pay in cash despite the handy machine atop the uncluttered glass counter.

      He’d noticed right off that everything in the shop glowed with cleanliness. She’d gone with a white kitchen setting that embraced the store’s name, the wainscoted walls, window trim, cupboards and drawers all done in a white satin finish, the old knobs a throwback to earlier times. A few small white tables graced the end of the room while the candy faced the shaded northeast side, where aged, sprawling maple trees offered a cooling, shadowed presence. The west side of the store held an ice cream parlor setup, not too big, just enough to help augment summer sales.

      Smart.

      Danny liked and appreciated retail intelligence. Covering the bottom line was intrinsic to business, and in her own way, Megan Russo was doing just that, filling needs to fit the season and her cash flow. And looking really good, to boot.

      She picked that moment to glance their way, her look noting Ben making change, and then Danny.

      Her calm gaze did a little stutter-step, just enough to make him think she felt the connection. Her quick reversion to a more reserved countenance said she had every intention of fighting it, just like him.

      He almost breathed a sigh of relief, then laughed at himself. He was only here a short while, just long enough to set up a site that proclaimed Grandma Mary’s cared about its roots, and while he wasn’t a history buff by any means, he was smart enough to recognize how far his family had come in four generations.

      Amazing.

      Megan flashed another look Ben’s way, and Danny’s inner hopes dimmed as realization set in.

      He might put her out of business. Correction: would most likely put her out of business.

      And that meant Ben would be out of a job, a chance to mingle with people, to feel good about himself. Danny knew how important those qualities were to the developmentally challenged.

      He smiled his thanks to Ben and hoisted the bag of chocolate. “Thank you so much, young man.”

      Ben grinned appreciation. “You’re welcome.”

      Danny turned and headed for the door, wishing she’d call out. Wish him good day. Say goodbye. Invite him to come again.

      She didn’t.

      And he refused to turn, looking for her attention, knowing it was best to avoid her as much as possible considering the circumstances. The idea of causing her problems weighed on him, but his allegiance to his family business and family roots went deep. He’d scour the area for likely settings and try to place their new store far enough away from the Colonial Candy Kitchen to minimize the effect—but in the end, business was business.

      Right now, he wasn’t all that certain he liked that idea.

      Chapter Three

      “Spill it, girlfriend. Who was the hunk you were shamelessly flirting with while I delivered cookies to the mercantile and the coffee shop?” Hannah tossed out the question once the store was empty at midday. “Some businessman.”

      “And then some.” Hannah’s arched brows and grin showed proper appreciation. “What kind of business?”

      Meg shook her head, wiped down crumbs from the cookie station and crossed to the freezer. The walk-in unit had been last year’s capital expenditure and was worth its weight in gold, which was almost what the unit cost. “No idea.”

      “You didn’t ask?”

      “No.”

      “Why?”

      “Not my business.”

      Hannah stopped filling the half-pound boxes of pecan caramel turtles, a big seller regardless of the season. “Meg, he told you outright he was staying around awhile.”

      “And?”

      Hannah made a knocking motion against the counter with her left hand. “Um, hello? Opportunity calling? Sorry we missed you.”

      Meg sent her a scowl that was only half pretend. “Opportunity has knocked before, remember? And I answered. Big mistake. Crashed and burned. Do the words ‘public spectacle’ come to mind?”

      Hannah’s gaze softened. “You’re blowing things out of proportion, Meg.”

      “Am I?” Meg turned, not sure that she was ready to face this conversation but not seeing an easy way out. “Are you forgetting that fiancé number one cheated on me and got another girl pregnant?”

      “Which says a lot about his lack of character, not yours. He was totally unworthy of you and you know it.”

      Meg had heard that before, and had almost come to believe it when in came Michael, fiancé number two.