Guarding a Forbidden Love, page 3
Becky was happily married to her high school boyfriend. They had a son and a daughter and they had just enjoyed the birth of their first grandchild. Becky worked as a third-grade teacher at the school and had always been wonderfully supportive of Harper through all her ups and downs.
She now sat facing the window and as Sam passed by, she let out a low whistle and then grinned at Harper. “Nice view,” she said.
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Harper replied with pretend airiness.
Becky laughed. “Yeah, right. Harper, I’ve got news for you. You’re divorced, not dead.”
“Okay, so maybe I have noticed a little bit,” Harper said with a laugh of her own. “In fact, I’ll admit the view has been a bit distracting all day.”
“No doubt,” Becky replied. “If I was ten years younger and single, I swear I’d take that hunky boy to bed and make his head spin.”
“Becky.” Harper laughed once again. “You’re feeling pretty feisty this afternoon.”
“I’m just trying to make up for the crummy day I had.”
“What made it crummy?” Harper asked curiously.
“Benny McGraw threw up all over the back of Lizzie Dominic and then while Alice Jackson was trying to escape the puke, she slipped and slid and fell right into it. So, math class involved one sick, crying boy and two screaming, crying girls. It took almost an hour to finally get it all sorted out and for the class to calm down again.”
Harper couldn’t help but laugh at the visual picture Becky had painted. “I’m just sorry I can’t offer you anything more than coffee,” she said sympathetically. “Sounds like you need something much stronger.”
Becky laughed. “It’s okay. I’m fine with the coffee. As far as I’m concerned, the day was just an example of how teachers are warriors who tackle short attention spans, crazy parents and puke. By the way, on another subject, I’m really sorry I missed your birthday party.”
“It was no big deal,” Harper replied even as a vision of Sam sitting in her living room filled her head. She was almost glad now that her two friends hadn’t been able to show up.
“So, tell me, what’s new with you?” Becky asked and then took a sip of her coffee.
“Not much. I’m really excited about getting the outside of the bakery cleaned up and once that’s done, we’ll start work on the backyard. I have all kinds of exciting ideas that I want to see back there.”
“I think you’ll see a big uptick in sales once the outside of the bakery looks just as good as the inside,” Becky said.
“From your lips to God’s ears,” Harper replied.
“People just don’t know how nice it is in here by looking at the outside.” Becky took another sip of her coffee.
For the next few minutes, the two continued to visit and when the coffee was gone, Becky got up from the table.
“Time for me to get home. Larry told me he was cooking dinner for me tonight and it would be ready by five.”
“Lucky you,” Harper said, also rising from the table. “Go enjoy your dinner and tell Larry I said hi. I’ll see you sometime next week.”
Becky stopped by about once a week or so for a quick cup of coffee after work. She told Harper it was her decompression time before she headed home.
Sometimes their other friend, Allie Crawford, joined them, but her work hours didn’t always allow it. However, occasionally the three of them would go out to dinner together.
Once Becky was gone, Harper cleaned the tabletop once again and then poured herself a tall glass of water. If she drank any more coffee, she’d be up half the night. She already had to deal with hot flashes and occasional night sweats that often disrupted her sleep. Perimenopause, the doctor had told her. Early hell as far as Harper was concerned.
At five o’clock she turned the sign on the door from Open to Closed. She went back into the kitchen and made sure everything was clean and ready for the baking she would do the next morning. She switched the cloths from the washer to the dryer, turned it on and then grabbed her purse and walked out the front door.
Sam was in the process of putting his tools away into a large wooden carrier. “Harper, hang on a minute.” She stopped in her tracks and then watched as he loaded the carrier into the back of his pickup truck. Then he hurried back to where she stood.
“Now I’m ready,” he said with a wide smile.
“Ready for what?” she asked curiously.
“To walk you home,” he replied. “I’m assuming you usually walk to and from work.”
“Uh...well yes, I do. It seems silly to drive less than two blocks from my house to here. The only times I do drive is if it’s raining hard or too cold and snowy. Although sometimes I don’t mind walking through the snow. However, I usually enjoy walking instead of driving here.”
She shut her mouth, aware that she was rambling. For some reason Sam made her nervous, not in a bad way, but rather in an inexplicable good way.
“So today, if you don’t mind, I’d enjoy walking you home.” He cast her that smile that made his dimple dance and her knees weaken.
“I guess I don’t mind if you don’t mind,” she replied. She was so confused by him.
What on earth did Sam Bravano really want from her?
* * *
They took off down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace. He walked close enough to her that he could smell the scents of sugar and cinnamon and everything sweet. But there was also an underlying fragrance of something hot and spicy. That scent he found exceedingly attractive and it called to something deep inside him.
“You look very pretty today,” he said to her. It was true, the pink blouse she wore enhanced the darkness of her hair and the bright blue of her eyes. The cut of the blouse, along with the skinny black jeans she wore, also showcased her lush body to perfection.
“Thanks,” she said, her cheeks dusted with a pink color to rival her blouse.
He found her blushes positively charming. It had been a long time since he’d seen a woman blush. “It looked like a friend came in to visit with you this afternoon,” he said.
“Yes, Becky Barlow. She and I have been good friends since we were sophomores in high school. She’s a teacher at the elementary school and we’ve seen each other through a lot of ups and downs over the years. Do you have a best friend?” she asked.
“My best friends are my two brothers, even though they are quite a bit younger than me,” he replied. “They’re my friends, but since our dad passed away two years ago, I’m also kind of like a father figure to them.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry about your father. I lost mine four years ago and then my mother last year,” she replied.
He heard the sadness in her and it resonated with a grief in him. His father had been his hero. Anthony Bravano had been bigger than life, a gregarious man who never knew a stranger and who had loved his family fiercely. When he’d died, a huge hole had been left behind not only in the family, but also deep inside Sam’s heart.
“Do you have siblings?” he now asked her.
“No, I’m an only child,” she replied.
“Sometimes I wish I was,” Sam said with a laugh. “So, what do you like to do in your spare time? I know the bakery is closed on Sundays.”
“The one thing I don’t do on Sundays is bake. I like to do a little gardening and I enjoy reading. Things I’m sure you would find pretty boring.”
“Actually, I don’t find those things boring at all. I like to do a little gardening, too, although I don’t do as much reading as I should,” he confessed.
“I imagine you spend a lot of your spare time at Murphy’s,” she said, naming a popular bar in town.
“Ha, not at all. I outgrew the bar scene a long time ago,” he replied. “I haven’t been to Murphy’s in years.”
He saw the disbelief that flashed in her eyes. “Then what do you do in your spare time?”
He was pleased that she was asking questions of him. Surely, that meant she had a little interest in him. “I bought a house last year that needed a lot of work, so that’s what I do in my spare time.”
“So, you work hard all day long and then go home and work some more,” she said. Again, her voice held more than a touch of disbelief.
“Why am I getting the impression that you don’t believe me?” he asked.
She stopped walking and turned to face him. “Sam, a man who looks like you has got to have a...uh...robust social life.”
“I’d like to have a social life with you, Harper,” he said.
She started walking at a quicker pace. “There you go, being totally ridiculous again.”
“I’m not being ridiculous,” he protested and quickly caught up with her. “Harper, why can’t you believe that I’d like to take you out on a real date?”
By that time, they had reached her front porch. She turned and faced him once again, her beautiful eyes filled with skepticism. “What did you do, Sam? Make a bet with your buddies that you could romance the old lady in the bakeshop? Are your friends waiting to see if you’re successful or not? How much money will you get if you succeed?”
“God, no.” He was appalled that she would even think such a thing about him. “There’s no bet and you aren’t the old lady baker. How can you even refer to yourself like that? I see you as a very attractive, lively woman who I’d like to spend more time with.”
She unlocked her front door and then turned and looked at him. “Sam, you seem like a very nice young man. Go find somebody your own age to play with.”
Before he could reply, she flew into her house and closed the door. Sam stared at the door for a long moment and then turned around and headed back up the sidewalk.
He was more determined than ever to get her to go out with him. He now knew what he was up against. She believed he couldn’t possibly be attracted to her because of the age thing.
Well, she was dead wrong. For the first time in a very long time Sam looked forward to seeing and talking to a woman again. He really had no idea exactly what drew him to her, but something was definitely there.
And despite what she said, he thought she was drawn to him, too. If he truly believed she had no interest in him then he would just show up at the bakery and do his job. But his plan right now was to show up there and do his job and try to convince her to go out with him.
* * *
He was back to work at eight the next morning when the bakery opened. For the next hour or so, people he assumed were regular customers came and went.
It was another hot and humid day, although not quite as bad as it had been the day before. Just after one there was a lull in the customer traffic and he was ready to take a break inside the cool interior.
He went inside where Harper stood behind the display case. Today she was clad in a pair of black slacks and a bright yellow blouse. She also wore an apron that read Sweet Tooth across the front.
“Afternoon, Harper.” He walked up to the counter. She definitely looked like a sweet treat he’d like to savor. There was just something about her that drew him to her. Maybe it was her bright smile or the sparkle in her big blue eyes.
“Hi, Sam.”
“You look like a bright ray of sunshine today...a very pretty ray,” he said.
He was unsurprised by the faint blush that filled her cheeks. “Thank you. Now, what can I get for you?”
“How about three of those cookies that I like...the oatmeal raisin ones, and a cup of coffee,” he said. He pulled some money from his wallet and then watched as she got everything ready for him. “You going to come and sit with me?” he asked once he’d paid.
“Uh...not today. I need to clean some things up back here,” she replied, not quite meeting his gaze.
“Okay then,” he replied easily. He carried the cookies and his coffee to a table nearest the display counter and sat. “It looked like you were fairly busy this morning.” He watched as she began to clean the top of the display case, which he suspected was already clean.
“I think almost all my regulars came in. Then I’ve got two cakes and two dozen cupcakes going out this afternoon.”
“That’s good, right?”
“That’s about normal for a Friday afternoon,” she replied. “There are always parties on the weekends and thankfully people want cakes or cupcakes.”
“So, the people in Millsville like their cake.”
“Thank goodness for me,” she replied with a laugh. He liked the sound of her laughter. It was a musical sound that was quite pleasant to the ears.
“Have you ever considered hiring somebody to help you out here so you aren’t working from five or six in the morning until five in the evening six days a week?”
She paused with her cloth in hand. “I’ve considered it, but I’ve been saving every penny I can scrape together for the renovations. Once those are all done and paid for then I’ll maybe consider hiring another person to work here part-time. Although I have to admit I’m a bit of a control freak and the idea of having somebody else in my kitchen kind of stresses me out.”
“That reminds me, maybe right after work today we could go around back and you can tell me exactly what you want done out there,” he said.
“That will work,” she replied. “I’m eager to show you what I want. I have to warn you, it’s going to be a lot.”
“Then it’s a date,” he said with a grin.
“No, Sam, it’s not a date. It’s a...a...business appointment,” she replied.
He laughed. “You are one stubborn woman.”
“And you are one tenacious man,” she returned with a small grin of her own.
“I just know what I like and when I like something I go after it,” he replied. “So, this is a fair warning, Harper Brennan, I intend to do whatever I can to prove to you that I want to date you.”
Her eyes sparkled brightly and she laughed. “Just remember I am one stubborn woman and right now I don’t see that happening at all.”
“Ah, but you haven’t seen the full brunt of the Sam Bravano charm yet.”
She laughed once again. “At this point in my life, I’ve got to warn you, I’m pretty immune to charm, Sam.”
She might say that now, but she’d cleaned the same spot on the top of the display case three times now. He ate his cookies and finished up his coffee and then headed back outside. Maybe one of the ways to Harper’s heart was for him to work hard and give her the storefront she’d always dreamed of.
He knocked off at five o’clock and went into the bakery right before Harper closed for the night. She appeared to be ready for him. Gone was her apron and the minute he was inside she turned the sign on the door to indicate the business was closed and then she locked up.
“We’ll go out the back door. I hope you brought your pad and pencil because there are a lot of things I want done out back,” she said.
“Got them right here,” he said and patted his back pocket.
“Okay then, let’s go.” There was a lilt to her voice that spoke of her excitement.
He followed her into a pristine kitchen with commercial-grade equipment. “So, this is where all the magic happens,” he said.
“I don’t know about magic, but this is where all the work is done,” she replied.
“I’m sure it’s hard work,” he agreed quickly.
She smiled. “It is, but it’s work I absolutely love. Let’s head outside,” she said and led him through the laundry area.
“After you,” he said and opened the back door. She walked out before him. She took about three steps out and then froze and suddenly screamed.
Then he saw it...a scarecrow standing in the backyard. However, it wasn’t a scarecrow made of corn husks and hay. Rather it was a human scarecrow. He immediately recognized the young woman despite the fact that her mouth was sewn shut with thick black thread and her eyes were missing.
It was Sandy Blackstone, who worked as a teller at the bank. She was dressed in an ill-fitting pair of jeans and a red-and-black plaid shirt, a straw hat set atop her head at a cocky angle. It took only an instant for his mind to process the horrendous sight.
He grabbed the screaming Harper by the shoulders, whirled her around and drew her into his arms, not wanting her to see the horrible scene for a moment longer.
Chapter 3
Harper clung to Sam and was grateful for his big, strong arms holding her tight. She’d finally stopped screaming but now wept uncontrollably into the front of his shirt as the vision of Sandy tied to the pole with her mouth sewn shut and her eyes missing continued to fill her head over and over again. It was positively horrifying.
“You’re okay,” Sam’s deep voice said softly...soothingly. He rubbed her back in small circles, obviously in an attempt to calm her down. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, Harper.”
She nodded, her face still buried in the front of his T-shirt as her tears continued to fall. Who would do such a thing? Dear God, who was even capable in this small town of doing such unspeakable things to a pretty young woman?
“Come on, let’s go back inside. I need to call Dallas.” He gently guided her toward the back door and when they went back into the kitchen, she sank down on the folding chair she kept there.
She tried desperately to pull herself together as Sam made the call to the chief of police. But the vision of Sandy was burned into her brain and caused icy shivers to rush up and down her spine. Along with the horror was the grief of a young woman lost...a young woman dead far before her time. Dear God, who had done those terrible things to Sandy?
Sam hung up his phone, tucked it back into his pocket and then knelt down in front of her. “Are you okay?” he asked. He ran his thumbs down the tear tracks on her cheeks. His touch was infinitely gentle and for some reason made her want to cry all over again. But she swallowed against her tears and nodded.
