Authors: Diann Hunt Denise Hunter Kristin Billerbeck Colleen Coble
Tags: #Romance, #Christian
“I don’t force things at Cupid’s Arrow, Mom. People have to fill out information. No one makes them date anyone they don’t want to date.” Zoe shook her head and smiled at Sally.
“This world, she is a-changin’,” said a woman named Betty. “What with the Internet and all, people are finding each other who never would have had the chance otherwise.”
“Exactly.” Zoe grabbed a cookie after all and nibbled at it. “I just want to spread a little love in Smitten.”
Anna poured a cup of hot chocolate and held it out to Zoe.
“Oh, I really don’t have time. But how about I take it with me? Thanks, Mom.” She pulled on the blue woolen scarf, mittens, and hat that her mom had made her last Christmas. “See you, ladies.” Drink in one hand, handbag and purchase dangling from her other arm while she held on to her cookie, Zoe kissed her mother’s cheek and sped out the door.
“Kids, they never have time these days to sit and smell the roses.” Anna shook her head and threw away a customer’s forgotten receipt.
“You still doing Sunday afternoon meals with your girls?” Sally asked.
“Yes, thankfully. I love those days.”
“You’re lucky to have them. Most kids don’t even live around their families anymore. We live in a mobile society.”
“So true,” Anna said, feeling sorry she had complained. Sally’s boys lived in another state.
Anna didn’t know what she would do without her girls, her mom, and her aunties. She loved how they took turns hosting Sunday dinners, the hubbub of family, the chaos and the peace, all of it. She prayed it would never change.
The doorbell jangled again. Anna looked up, and her heart caught in her throat. She couldn’t imagine what Michael Conners would be doing back at her yarn shop.
“Well, well, we meet again.”
All smiles and brawn. Mr. Confidence himself.
“Michael Conners. Back so soon?” Anna gazed around her station to make sure it looked tidy.
“Yeah, but not for long. I’m headed to Sugarcreek Ski Resort.”
“Oh yes, your mom mentioned you worked there part-time.”
“I do, but I’m off today. Just want to get in a little skiing.”
“I see.” Anna knew very little about skiing, so she didn’t comment. “So, do you knit?”
His laughter rattled the windows.
“The boys back on the base would have a good laugh over the thought of me knitting.”
“Some men do,” she said, her tone a little sharper than she’d intended.
“Some men. Not me.” He lifted his calloused palms. “See these hands? They were built for man’s work. I’ll leave the knitting to you women.” He looked toward the circle of women and winked, and they all smiled.
A fire kindled in Anna’s belly. “Are you implying a man can’t be manly and knit?”
He shrugged. “To each his own, I guess. Just don’t expect you’ll ever see me doing it.”
The fire in her belly grew. Did he think it would be beneath his dignity to knit? That these women were frivolous time-wasters to do such a thing?
“Then what brings you here?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest and tapping her foot.
“Mom wanted some new yarn, and she forgot to get it when she was here.” He gave her a smile. “Knitting here with the ladies seems to calm her. I have you to thank for that.”
The words humbled Anna. If she could play a small part in encouraging Mrs. Conners, she was privileged to do so.
Suddenly the deafening sound of needles gone quiet filled the air. Anna looked at the circle of knitters and found they were all staring at her.
She ignored them. Well, she tried to anyway. “What is your mother making?” Anna asked in her most professional voice.
“Uh, I don’t know.”
“Then how do you know how much yarn to get?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know what type of yarn she wants?”
“The fuzzy kind?” He grinned. When she didn’t smile back, he cleared his throat. “I thought you would tell me all that.”
“Well, I can hardly do that if I don’t know what she’s making.”
“She finished those tricky slippers she was working on this week,” Sally interjected. “Why don’t you give him some of those pretty new cotton shades that you have for making dishcloths? That would give her something easy to work on for a change.”
There was a definite twinkle in her friend’s eye as she spoke. A twinkle that Anna didn’t like one little bit.
“That’s a good idea.” With her chin hiked, Anna walked over to the cotton bin and showed Michael the different colors. She refused to look up at him, but she felt sure he was watching her and not the yarn.
“Yes, these will work,” he said, plucking a couple of skeins out of the bin without so much as a second glance.
Did he have any idea the work that went into making these yarns? Did he touch them to get a feel for them? Consider the perfect color? Of course not. What was he doing here anyway?
He tossed the skeins of durable worsted weight yarn in the air and began to juggle them. Anna glanced at the women in the circle and saw that their hands were still quiet. He had them mesmerized. She wanted to bop every single one of them—or at the very least take back her cookies.
She rang up the yarn and announced the price.
His eyes widened. “Wow. Yarn doesn’t come cheap.”
“You get what you pay for, Mr. Conners,” she said.
“Please, call me Michael.”
The way he said that made her guard drop a little. She put his purchase into a pretty bag and took great delight in winding the raffia into an especially elegant, feminine bow. He rewarded her with a frown.
“Thank you. I’m sure Mom will enjoy this.” He turned to the group and tipped his head. “Ladies.” With that he headed out the door, pretty little package dangling softly from his big, manly man hands.
Anna covered her mouth to stop the giggles until the door closed, then let her laughter out.
“Why did you do that?” Debbie asked.
“What?”
“Well, you weren’t exactly friendly,” Sally piped up.
“That man just irritates me.”
“Or not,” Sally said.
Her words boiled in Anna’s midsection. “He’s just so full of himself.” She busied herself straightening some of the bins. When she got to the cotton bin, she noticed it was already straightened. “Well, of all the nerve.”
“What is it?” Beth wanted to know.
“He straightened this bin.”
“Wow. Gorgeous, and he cleans too? Grab him.” One look at Anna, and Sally’s smile left her face. Without another word she swept her needles into full running motion.
Michael Conners may have these women fooled, but he didn’t fool Anna. She knew his type all too well.
“Not the friendliest sort around,” Michael said in answer to his mother’s question.
“Don’t be too hard on her, dear. She’s been through a lot. Her husband up and left her awhile ago. Her three grown daughters all live in town, thankfully. They’re a fine family.” Emma Conners’s soft, age-spotted hand patted Michael’s hand the way she had when he was a boy.
“Now, don’t you go getting any ideas,” Michael said. “I’m just fine living on my own.” Though he had to admit, the spark in Anna’s gray eyes and her melting smile made this woman a definite consideration.
“Sure you are.” Another pat. “That’s what all men think. But we women know better.” This time she squeezed his palm lightly and Michael laughed.
With his mother settled in her room at the Smitten Assisted Living Center, Michael stopped by the church to see if they needed help with the set for the Christmas program. Pastor Walden assured him they had plenty of helpers, so he headed on to the ski slopes. The snow was sticking to the ground and seemed to be heavy enough to pack. Good news for the slopes.
He turned the wipers on to brush away the falling snow. Try as he might, he couldn’t get over Anna Thomas’s reaction to him. Not rude exactly, but he obviously had irritated her. He couldn’t imagine why. Maybe his presence intimidated her for some reason.
Not that it mattered. He was in Smitten to help his mom. Period. He had no intention of getting involved with a woman. Once his mom was gone, there was still more of the world he wanted to see, and he couldn’t do that holed up in a small town.
The turn signal clicked off time while Michael waited for a car to pass, then he maneuvered his car into the Sugarcreek parking lot.
He shook off his mental ramblings. This was going to be a good day. He hefted his skis from the backseat. A very good day indeed.
CHAPTER TWO
C
lare, Zoe, and Tess set the dinner table while Anna scooped the last of the mashed potatoes into a serving bowl and added it to the table—but not before placing a dollop of butter on top.
“This looks great, Mom,” Clare said, settling into her chair.
“It sure does,” Aunt Violet said.
Although the girls had places of their own, and Anna’s aunts and mother lived on the family homestead, they made it a point to meet every Sunday afternoon for a meal. With the kids grown and her husband gone, Anna had purchased a quaint little home, but they somehow managed to get everyone around the table.
Everyone held hands, and Anna ushered them into a prayer of thankfulness for their meal and God’s many blessings.
While silverware clanked and iced tea glasses were refilled, they talked of work, family, and Smitten news.
“So, Tess, how’s that man of yours doing?” Aunt Petunia asked.
Tess grinned. “Ryan is doing well. His new root beer ice cream is a big hit.”
Aunt Violet nudged Anna. “Look at the way she just perks right up when she talks about him.”
“Zoe’s the same way with her man,” Anna said with a grin.
Clare chuckled, and Tess turned to her. “Don’t you laugh. You’ve got a man now too.”
“That’s right. How’s your young man, Clare?” Aunt Violet asked, shaking her head. “My, my, we can hardly keep up with you girls and your love lives.”
Clare’s new young man, Joshua Campbell, was full of compliments of Zoe’s dating service.
“Don’t discourage them,” Anna said. “I’ve been trying to find them the right men for years.”
“Joshua’s fine. Don’t print the invitations, though. It’s not like that.”
Anna had heard that line before. Clare struggled with commitment. Anna feared Joshua was on his way out. But maybe she was wrong.
“So, Zoe, do you think that dating business of yours could catch me a man?” Aunt Violet asked.
Suddenly the whole room took a collective breath.
“Well, sure we could. I’ve told you that before, Aunt Vi. You ought to sign up.” Zoe sat up eagerly in her chair and leaned toward her great-aunt.
“You can’t be serious,” Anna said. It was bad enough that
she
had to apply to the dating service to support her daughter, but Aunt Violet?
Aunt Violet’s nose hiked. “Wouldn’t hurt you to get back into the dating game.” She patted her hair. “Why leave all the fun to the young folks?”
Anna’s breath caught in her throat. “I had my time. It didn’t work out, and that’s that.” She placed her linen napkin on the tablecloth and rose. “Now, apple or pumpkin pie?”