Rekindled Dreams (4 page)

He looked up from pouring ketchup on his hash browns, brows wrinkled over the bridge of his nose. “You don’t do that?”

Vena thought a moment and then shook her head. “I am embarrassed to admit I dropped the habit after moving away. I’ll make more of an effort in the future. And you”—she pointed with her fork— “still have a sweet tooth. I saw the heaping spoonfuls of jam you slathered on that toast.”

Eyes closed in obvious enjoyment, he chewed a large bite of sourdough toast. “That’s because I’ve discovered Maxie serves homemade jam, a treat I can’t resist.”

“Maxie? She’s still cooking here?” Vena wiped her mouth and stood. “I’ve got to say hello.” She walked toward the register, hoping to catch the server’s attention, but Judy was busy clearing a table.

The sharp clank of a bell sounded. “Order up,” a woman called from the kitchen.

Vena knew that throaty voice. She’d heard it enough times when she and Moira had haunted Lottie’s for ice cream sodas during long, hot summer afternoons. Standing on her toes, Vena could just see over the pass-through into the kitchen.

Sure enough, Maxine Roberts, tall and angular with her trademark platinum bouffant hairdo, stood in front of the huge industrial stove and grill.

Vena cleared her throat and called out, “Maxie. You’re still working here.”

“The one and only. Who wants to know?”

“Vena Fenton. Do you remember me?”

The half-door into the kitchen slammed against the counter, jarring the toasting rack, and Maxie’s head appeared. “Well, I’ll be jiggered. Get over here, Elfie, and give these old bones a hug.”

Vena stepped into the kitchen—and back into a simpler time. Immediately, her senses were overwhelmed by the aromas of potatoes frying, bacon sizzling, and the moist steam drifting from the dishwasher. A metal jungle of cooking utensils and pots hung from an overhead wrought-iron wheel. Enveloped in Maxie’s bony-armed embrace, Vena felt quiet waves of homecoming wash over her.

“Elfie, let me look at you.” Maxie broke the hug and held her arms straight. “Didn’t you turn out a pretty little thing. What happened to all your freckles?” She stretched backward to deftly flip several pancakes before facing her again. “What brings you back to Dry Creek?”

Leave it to Maxie to get right to the crux of the matter. Hesitant about jinxing her project by discussing it, she stammered, “Uh, vacation. I’ve been working really hard. Now I’m following doctor’s orders, getting lots of rest.” Only a slight stretch of the truth. She had been sick with the flu the previous month.

Maxie scowled. “You’ve got shadows under your eyes, and you’re too skinny. Sit on that stool, and I’ll fix you a plate.”

“You just did.” Vena laughed. “I had the French toast, and it was delicious. I’ll bet Lottie is grateful you’ve stayed on all these years.”

“Lottie. Hah.” Maxie snorted with laughter. “I own the place. Bought her out six years ago come November. Judy
darlin’, come on back and stir this oatmeal. I want to talk to Elfie without yelling my throat raw.”

“Sorry, but I can’t.” Vena laid a hand on Maxie’s arm. “Maybe another time. Finn’s waiting back at our table.”

Maxie turned and stared, penciled eyebrows climbing into stiffly curved bangs. “You’re here with Finnian Quaid?”

The older woman’s blatant surprise made Vena hesitate a moment. “We’ve spent the morning catching up on old times. Today is so beautiful that we walked here.” She flinched. That hadn’t come out right.

“I know for a fact Bridget and Phelan are out of town.” Maxie’s face wrinkled into a frown. “Surely they canceled The Shamrocks’ guests.”

“Guest?” Vena affected a nonchalant wave. “I’m practically one of the family.” She gulped, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “Besides, where else would I find an empty bed at one in the morning?”
Shut up. I’m making things worse.

Maxie squinted, leaning a veined hand on her hip. “You came in last night? And stayed at The Shamrocks?”

“Bye now.” Unable to meet Maxie’s penetrating gaze, Vena gave her a quick hug and retreated to the booth where Finn waited.

Finn leaned over the back of the booth, talking with a young couple showing off their baby girl.

She bent down, fighting the allure of his woodsy scent, and spoke in an urgent whisper, “Pay the bill right now. I’ll meet you on the sidewalk.” She spun and darted out the door, daring a peek in the kitchen’s direction at the last minute.

Her body bent over the front counter, Maxie had the telephone in one hand and was busy dialing with the other.

****

As he headed to the register, Finn pulled several bills from his wallet. Why had Vena acted all weird? She’d been fine while they ate, but so agitated when she’d rushed back to their table. Maxie was busy with what sounded like an urgent phone call. He spotted Judy a few feet away and called her name. He waved the money and the bill before placing them on the counter.

Maxie lowered the mouthpiece and turned, a finger pointing in his direction. “You’d better behave yourself, young man.” She turned back to the phone. “Yes, I’m sure.”

His chest tightened. That warning tone made him feel about ten years old again. And like he’d just been caught misbehaving. The impact of Maxie’s comment and Vena’s sudden change of attitude propelled him through the door. He glanced around, spotted Vena waiting under the shade of an oak tree across the street, and strode toward her.

Her expression was tight, her eyes wide.

“What was that about?” He fought to keep his voice calm. “Maxie just skewered me with a glare that could freeze oil. What did you say in there?”

“I’m not good at lying.” Vena stomped up the street. “Maybe this whole engagement thing won’t work, Finn.”

Anxiety stalled his steps. No, she couldn’t back out. He needed her. Within a few long strides, he caught up and grabbed her hand.

She whirled, guilt clouding her eyes. “I’m not as skilled at spinning stories as you are.” A hand waved circles in the air. “Maybe your family is blessed with the blarney, like my mother always said, but I’m not.”

The pain in her eyes took him back years. Here was the Vena he remembered. The girl whose eyes broadcasted every emotion in her tender heart was now a woman whose pained expression kicked alive his protective instincts.

“Aye, ‘tis the blarney I have, and ‘tis the blarney that will save us.” He lifted a hand to brush stray hair from her eyes. “Whatever you said can be fixed. Let’s walk, and you tell me what happened.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and squeezed it gently, surprised at how right it felt.

“I don’t even know what to tell you. One minute, Maxie and I were chatting about my reasons for being in town, and the next, I was telling her we’d spent the night together.”

His grip tightened. “You didn’t.”

“Not in those exact words.” She waved her free hand. “But by her astonished expression, you’d think I had. I just said I’d arrived in the middle of the night.”

Ah, small town etiquette. This he could handle. “Vena, you’ve been away a long time.” He made sure to keep his voice low. “You’ve forgotten what a sheltered town Dry Creek really is. Back at The Shamrocks, we’ll have that study session. We won’t quit until you feel ready.”

“Don’t be smug. You have lots to learn about me, too.”

Giving her a wink, he squeezed her hand. The prospect became more fascinating with each passing moment. “You’re right, until we’re both ready.”

As they crossed the last street before The Shamrocks, someone called his name. “Here’s the key,” Finn said. “Go on ahead. I need to deliver a message to Mrs. Donnelly for Ma.”

Vena nodded and hurried up the walk to The Shamrocks.

Five minutes later, Finn waved at the neighbor and started back across the street. Just as he reached the sidewalk, he heard a nearby gate clank and looked up to see his next-door neighbors,
Tootie Sampson and Ruth Maguire, striding toward him as determinedly as women in their seventies could. A visit from the leaders of Dry Creek’s Gray Ladies could only mean trouble.

With a wave and a wide smile, he greeted them. “Top o’ the
mornin’, ladies.”

Tootie
, short and round with a sweet face framed by a riot of gray curls, giggled. “I just love your Irish talk.”

Ruth jabbed her with an elbow and shot her a stern look. “We heard Vena Fenton is at The Shamrocks.” She craned her neck, trying to see around him into the yard. “Where is she?”

Finn bit back a groan. He’d hoped for more time alone before friends of Vena’s late granny learned she was in town. “Probably inside.”

Chin tipped downward,
Tootie peered over the rims of her reading glasses. “Maxie says she’s too thin, but Eula thinks she looks great, just like an actress in the motion pictures. She can’t wait to see her up close to check how they did her haircut.”

Ruth cleared her throat with a loud ahem.

Tootie glanced sideways and shrugged. “Well, they both agree she’s really blossomed from that skinny, freckle-faced kid. What do you think, Finnian?”

How could he argue with the very subject that had robbed him of desperately needed sleep? “You could say that.”

Slender, salt-and-pepper haired Ruth rested a hand on his forearm. “Did she tell you about her nervous breakdown?”

“Her what?” Dread flashed through Finn at those words as he remembered the humiliation of his eccentric Aunt Siobhan’s crazy antics.

Tootie leaned close. “She’s in town for rest and relaxation on doctor’s orders. Told Maxie so herself. What else could it be? My sister Velma’s boy, Roger…or was it Rodney? I’m always getting them mixed up. Twins, you know. Anyway, those were the doctor’s exact words: ‘rest and relaxation.’” She put a hand to one side of her mouth and whispered, “In the sanitarium, after his breakdown.”

Finn’s thoughts flashed to Vena’s appearance the previous night, fading away from the ladies’ continued conversation. She had appeared tired. He’d chalked it up to the long day of travel. Or had she been seriously ill? Her attitude this morning seemed normal enough, but how could he really tell? What if—

Ruth’s latest words had just registered. “Could you repeat what you just said, Ms. Maguire? Please.”

Ruth paused, tugged the open edges of her cardigan closer, and straightened her shoulders. “I said, I wonder why Vena’s fiancé didn’t accompany her. Didn’t you notice her engagement ring?”

His jaw clamped tight. Hadn’t Vena switched the ring back to her right hand?

BOLSTERED BY FINN’S STRONG
grip as he led her through the screen door, Vena faced her first encounter as an engaged woman. Stories prepared or not. She spotted two gray-haired women rising from their chairs.

The small, plump woman held out both hands. “Little Elfie, so grown up. And what a lovely dress, like something I remember Mama wearing.”

“Aunt Tootie, you’re looking well.” Vena released Finn’s hand, walked forward, and accepted the older woman’s hand clasp. One of her Nana Gwen’s best friends, Tootie could have modeled for a Norman Rockwell painting. This sweet grandmother always had a ready smile and had eagerly shared Vena’s childhood discoveries of a bug or new flower.

At a tap on her shoulder, Vena turned to meet the pale blue gaze of her Nana’s nemesis, Ruth. For as long as Vena could remember, Ruth Maguire and Nana had competed on every accomplishment known to senior citizens—from baking pies to cultivating roses. “Hello, Ms. Maguire.”

Ruth squinted, inspecting Vena’s face, and then pierced her with a hawk-eyed glare. “You’re pale, and you look tired. What have you been doing to yourself?”

With an effort, Vena restrained a wince and returned her stare. Count on Ruth Maguire not to sugarcoat her opinions. “Working entirely too hard. How about you, Ms. Maguire? Did your roses take a ribbon at the county fair this year?”

Ruth smiled, releasing the starch from her expression. “As a matter of fact, they did. First place for the third year running. Nice of you to inquire, Vena.”

“Ladies?”

At the sound of Finn’s masculine voice, all three women turned.

“We’ll be more comfortable sitting. Vena, why don’t you join me on the glider?”

His firm grasp on her elbow guided her to the cushioned wooden seat. Her skin tingled at the touch of his fingers. Any hesitation over him playing the part of a doting fiancé dissolved. She sank onto the cushion, tucking her dress close to her legs.

The other women returned to the wicker chairs under the multi-paned window and angled them toward her.

“Finnian dear,” Tootie spoke up, “if it’s not too much trouble, I’d love a cup of coffee. Maybe some of Shamrocks’ special Emerald Isle blend.”

“I should have thought of it myself. Be back in five minutes.” From the doorway, Finn narrowed his gaze and made a zipping motion over his lips.

Vena lifted one shoulder and cocked her head to the side. He’d orchestrated this get-together, and now he left her at the mercy of the Gray Ladies?

The man was definitely taking his chances.

“Good, he’s gone.” Tootie scooted her chair a couple feet closer. “Now we can really talk. I hate agreeing with Ruth, but your skin is peaked. How are you really, sweetie?”

Tootie
was probably the only person in the entire world who could call her sweetie without sounding offensive. Surprised at the interest in her health, Vena laughed. “I’m fine. I just haven’t had much free time lately to be outdoors.”

“Are you eating right? Drinking lots of water?”
Tootie’s eyes lit up, and she leaned forward. “Maybe you need more vegetables in your diet. I’ve got some lovely cauliflower and broccoli in my greenhouse. Let me bring some over.”

Vena squirmed at the intense interest. Now that
Tootie’s own children were grown and gone, she obviously needed someone to worry about. The fact Nana’s friends still honored her memory by watching out for her granddaughter warmed her heart. But she’d grown self-sufficient after Nana’s passing and the fussing made her uncomfortable. “I’m not sure about planning ahead for dinner,” she said. “Finn has work going on in almost every room. We managed last night all right, but had to eat breakfast at Lottie’s.”

Tootie
clasped her hands together and fretted. “But, pumpkin, you should be eating regular—”

Ruth interrupted, “Shh,
Tootie, I hear him coming.”

Vena smiled, confident she’d kept the conversation on a neutral topic in his absence.
Wonder why the ladies didn’t ask about my ring?

****

Finn set the tray of coffee, cups, and mini-muffins on a small serving table and let his gaze circle the group. “Who wants coffee?”

With precision,
Tootie took over the task of serving. “I was just telling Vena about all my vegetables, ready to be picked.” She poured and then passed him the cup with a squinted glance. “Isn’t that a good idea for Vena’s supper, Finnian?”

Finn reached for the saucer, but she held it tight. “That’s kind, Mrs. Sampson. But the kitchen isn’t set up for that kind of cooking yet.” He couldn’t connect the intensity of her gaze to her comment about vegetables.

Tootie released the saucer and waved a hand. “Silly man. That’s the great thing about vegetables. You can eat them raw. In fact, better that way.” She winked. “More roughage, you know.”

Ruth leaned forward. “Yes,
Tootie, we all know about that benefit. A more important issue must be discussed.”

Finn passed the cup along and wished he could decipher the undercurrent of the conversation. Growing up as oldest of six kids in a close-knit Irish family, he’d learned to sit quiet when sensing tension. Five times out of six, the problem hadn’t been his.

This time the odds were stacked against him. He was definitely outnumbered. He felt a cool hand on his wrist and turned to meet Ruth’s stare. She’d scooted her chair close enough for him to detect a faint scent of lavender.

“I have a question for you, sonny. Vena mentioned something about restorations and cooking. Was she at The Shamrocks the entire night?”

Finn stiffened and shot a sideways glance at Vena.
What exactly did had she said?

“Your guilty expression gives you away, boy.” Ruth slapped both hands on the armrests, readying to push herself out of the chair. After glaring at
Tootie, she turned her piercing stare on Vena. “I guess Tootie didn’t get all the details from Maxie. I assumed you’d arrived this morning. Tell us, just how long have you been in town?”

Finn took in Vena’s dazed eyes. She obviously hadn’t believed him about small town conventionality and had let something incriminating slip out.

“Was that you I heard around one o’clock?” Tootie chirped, waving her hands as she talked. “The Bruner’s dogs started a ruckus. You know how that bothers Penelope. I got up to see what was happening and had a nice chat with Finnian.”

“You went outside? At that hour?” Ruth’s voice rose.

Tootie’s hands dropped to her lap. “No, I just raised the window sash.”

Finn cleared his throat. “Muffin anyone?” He knew the women were great friends, but in the years they’d been neighbors, he’d heard of their ‘discussions’ involving every minute detail of an event. He’d already lived the experience of Vena’s late arrival, and a small part of him regretted ever answering the door.

Not only had Vena caused him to lose sleep, now he was wasting valuable work time, too. He needed to get back on schedule with the restorations. “Yes, ladies, Vena was here for part of last night. In an upstairs room.”

Ruth leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. “So, you admit it.”

“What’s to admit?” Vena’s surprised laughter erupted. “You sound like a crime occurred here.”

Finn heard the exasperation in Vena’s voice and hoped to keep the discussion from escalating into an argument. He placed a hand on hers, willing her to quiet her tone. Her soft skin slid against his callused palm like silk on sandpaper. As if moving on its own, his thumb rubbed a path across the back of her hand and stretched to run the ridge of her knuckles. Blood pumped in his ears, and his pulse raced. This reaction was for Vena?

“Oh, my.” Tootie let out a sigh, her hands clasped under her chin. “Finnian, you’re a real hero. You rescued a damsel in distress.”

Finn grinned and released Vena’s hand. “A bit more complicated than that, but The Shamrocks is an inn.”

“It’s an inn when your parents are here,” Ruth snapped. “When it’s just you, Finnian Quaid, it’s a regular family home. Think of Vena’s reputation. An unmarried woman should not spend the night under the same roof with a single man—not without a chaperone.”

“A chaperone?” Vena scoffed and leaned forward. “You’re not serious, Ms. Maguire. I’ve known Finn since I was a little girl, and this is not the nineteen sixties.” She glanced between the older women then turned a hopeful gaze in his direction. “Tell her, Finn.”

Even if Vena didn’t, Finn recognized their situation was one ripe for rumors. Rumors a potential candidate did not need, especially if they could be avoided. He spread his hands before him in silent appeal. “What do you suggest, Ms. Maguire?”

“Well, I’m not sure. I just know it’s not right.”

“I’ve got an idea.” Tootie bounced in her chair, and the coffee cup clattered. “Vena could stay with us.”

Finn rescued the cup and saucer and set them aside. “Interesting idea.” A legitimate way to put physical distance between him and Vena. They would be close enough to talk, and he could return to his projects. The protectiveness he felt at the ladies’ mention of Vena’s health warred with his wish to avoid the distraction she represented. For now, his work schedule won.

“We love having guests.” Tootie’s hands flew around. “And it’s been so long. We’ll need to clear aside a few things.”

“But I came here hoping to-to...”
Vena sputtered. Her gaze swung between him and the women. “Um, get some work done.”

“Of course, sweetie.”
Tootie patted Vena’s knee. “We’ll put you in the front bedroom. There’s a desk and lamp in there already, and we’ll find you a comfy chair.” She turned to Ruth, eyes dancing with excitement. “What do you think?”

“A logical solution.” Ruth nodded, her mouth pressed in a straight line.

“I hate to mention this,” Vena interjected, her voice rising, “but I was counting on privacy, too. Moira assured me The Shamrocks was the right place for my needs.”

Finn’s gaze connected with Vena’s, but he couldn’t hold it. Her pleading look went straight to his conscience, and he almost felt sorry for her. Until he remembered his own deadline and the delays caused by her presence.

This was the second best solution. Definitely better for his peace of mind.

“I understand, pumpkin,”
Tootie cooed. “You’ll do your work for a little while, and then we’ll have plenty of time to chat. I’m going home right now to straighten up.” She stood and leaned over to kiss Finn’s cheek. “Thank you, sweet boy. A house guest is just what we needed.”

Ruth stood and squared off opposite him. “We’ll expect her within the hour.”

Stalling over how to explain his actions, he waited until the older woman had reached the sidewalk before turning.

“I can’t believe Ms. Maguire. She talked like I wasn’t even here.” Vena jumped to her feet and paced. “Traitor. Couldn’t you stick up for me? Why didn’t you announce our ‘big news’? Cold feet?”

For a moment, he’d lost track of why she was so angry. “They already know.”

“You told them?” She raised a hand, grabbed a strand of hair, and twisted. “I don’t believe you. They would have mentioned it.”

“You didn’t switch back the ring and someone at the café must have noticed.” He recognized her old habit, the one she used when she was thinking hard. “They don’t know I’m the fiancé. They think you came to town already engaged. This is getting complicated, Vena, and I’m sorry.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “The ladies are right about how the situation looks.”

“Damn.” Vena ripped the ring off one hand and jammed it on the other. “Our rooms were on separate floors, for pity’s sake. And we’ve known each other forever.”

He watched her petite form swiftly step the width of the porch and back to the glider. Her moves were smooth and graceful, and he idly wondered why her dress was so baggy. “I know that and you know that, but that’s not what they see. You’ve been away a long time.”

Vena stopped in front of him, hands on hips. “Come on, Finn, it’s the twenty-first century.”

“Not here in small town Montana.” He flung an arm toward the street. “Look around you. Here in Dry Creek, it’s still the nineteen sixties. I’m only thinking about your reputation.” Guilt flashed through him at the little white lie. He studied her stern expression and tried another tack, one he didn’t think she could fight. “Tootie was so excited about having you stay as their guest. You don’t want to disappoint her, do you?” He gave her his best cajoling grin, the one that always worked on women.

“Oh, spare me, Quaid.” Vena shot him one final glare before spinning and stalking into the house.

Finn watched the swing of flowery fabric caress her slim hips as she stomped up the stairs. Relief settled over him at the realization that within the hour, temptation by the name of Vena Fenton would no longer be under his roof.

****

Arms crossed over her chest, Vena watched Finn set down her suitcase in the entry hall of Tootie and Ruth’s house. If only she could ignore the flexing of toned muscles under his snug T-shirt, she could keep her anger revved up.

“That’s the last suitcase. Can you manage from here?” Finn stood in the entry, one hand on the screen door handle.