Smitten Book Club (38 page)

The steps creaked as she descended them. A web tickled her face, and she cleared it with her hand, hoping there was nothing live attached. At the bend, she made the turn and followed the stairs.

Come on, Pearl. Where’d you put it?
It had to be here. It just had to be.

She aimed the light down the staircase, and the beam caught on something at the bottom. A heap of burlap.

“Mom, you okay?”

“Noah, get away from the hole. I’ll be up in a minute.”

She continued down the remaining stairs. When she came to the bottom, she reached for the burlap and pulled, her heart beating a frantic tattoo in her chest.

She sucked in her breath at the sight. A heap of rocks sat at her feet. The beam of light reflected the shiny chunks of gold woven through them. Molly’s mouth fell open. Her
heart raced. She couldn’t believe it. Right here all this time. All these years.

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh.”

“What’s wrong, Mom?”

She stared at the knee-high heap. Gold. Treasure. How much was here? How much was it worth? She had no idea, but one thing was certain. It was worth a bundle. And it was hers and Noah’s.

She laughed, the sound echoing off the old walls. “Not a thing, Noah. Not a single thing.”

Once smitten, a suitor will understand what the ardent girl has always known: love is the most precious of all treasures.

P
EARL
C
HAMBERS
,
The Gentlewoman’s Guide to Love and Courtship

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T
he girls gathered around the bookstore fireplace, watching the flames lick at the logs. They crackled and popped in the silence.

“I can’t believe you found the gold,” Heather said.

It had been the hot topic around town that week. “
We
found the gold. I couldn’t have done it without you girls.”

“What did the appraiser say?” Lia had put her in touch with a mineral appraiser from Burlington. He’d come out yesterday to examine the ore and take pictures.

“Nothing final yet, but he confirmed it’s definitely gold ore, and plentiful.”

“What are you going to do with all that money?” Abby said.

Molly curled her feet under her in the armchair. She’d been giving that a lot of thought. “I don’t know. Right now, it’s just nice to have options.”

“At the very least, the store is saved,” Lia said.

That had been at the top of Molly’s mind all week. “You know, I don’t think that’s what I want.”

“Really?” Abby asked.

She wanted to get back to her passion, her purpose. The gold, if nothing else, gave her the ability to pursue music. The store had been nothing but a burden.

“Gold or no, I want that teaching job.”

Abby arched a brow. “Um, you know you’re kind of rich now, right?”

“What good is money if she can’t do what she wants?” Heather said.

“Good point,” Lia said.

Whatever money came from the gold, Molly wanted to do something meaningful with it. Put some away for Noah’s education. Give some to the church. Some of it belonged to her friends too. She couldn’t have done this without them.

And she wanted to give back to Smitten. The community had done so much for her, had been there for her and Noah when she’d needed them. Her mind had been awhirl with ways she could invest in the community. The firehouse needed updated equipment. The library patrons had been asking for a new genealogy department for a long time. She liked the thought of investing in the library. Pearl would heartily approve.

“When will you hear on the job?”

“They’re making a decision next week.”

“You’re a shoo-in,” Lia said. “I talked to the school secretary yesterday. She said as much.”

“Oh, I hope so. After scaling mountains and fishing in waders for hours, sitting behind a piano with a classroom full of beautiful faces seems like a dream.”

“Speaking of beautiful faces,” Abby said. “Have you talked to Gage?”

She’d told the girls about her misunderstanding. “Not yet.”

“You haven’t apologized?” There was censure in Heather’s tone.

“I’m going to . . . I’ve been a little busy this week, you know. Thought maybe I’d call tomorrow when his store’s swamped. Or after hours . . . leave a message. Maybe a text. Or a note slipped under the door.” She was kidding. Okay, half kidding.

“Um, I seem to recall your tirade coming in person,” Abby said, then shrugged. “Just saying.”

Molly sighed. She’d already put it off four days too long. She’d been so busy, though, with the store, the gold.
Really, Molly? You weren’t too busy to tell him off
. She just didn’t think she could stand having him look at her that way again. Those cold eyes had haunted her all week.

Heather jumped off the couch and pulled Molly from the armchair. “Come on. It’s time.”

“I haven’t finished my tea.”

She reached for her mug, but Abby beat her to it, draining the cup dry.

Molly made a face at her.

“What? Mine was gone.”

“Any other excuses?” Heather asked.

I don’t wanna
was right there on her tongue, but even in her head she knew it sounded childish. Heather was right. It was time to eat crow.

She made one more lame attempt. “I don’t know where he is?”

“If he’s not at his store, you know where he lives.” Heather grabbed Molly’s bag and hitched it onto Molly’s shoulder, then gave her a small shove toward the door. “Off you go.”

Gage straightened the hiking boot display and set the measuring device under the bench. His eyes swept the quiet store. He’d already cleaned out last month’s magazines and replaced them with current issues. He’d gone through the clothing, sizing things from smallest to largest. He was running out of things to do.

But he didn’t want to go home. Home entailed great spans of quiet and boredom. Too much time to think. Too much time to dwell on subjects that either made his blood pressure soar or rent his heart in two, depending on how he felt at the moment.

News of Molly’s gold find had trickled through the Smitten grapevine that week. There’d been a write-up in the
Gazette
about it. He’d read it four times, lingering over Molly’s words. He was glad for her. But he was also angry at her. She hadn’t contacted him since Saturday. But why would she? She didn’t need him anymore, she didn’t trust him, and she sure didn’t love him.

Thinking of those things left him feeling like he was drowning in a pit of despair. Definitely best to stay busy. He could always find something to do at the store. There were
never enough pens around here. He needed to order more. And staples. They were almost out.

A knock sounded on the glass door. Stupid tourists. Couldn’t they see the Closed sign? Ridding his face of the scowl, he rounded the display and shook his head at the figure outside the door, getting ready to mouth
Closed, sorry
.

But the sight stopped him in his tracks. Molly stood in a white gauzy top and fitted pair of khakis, the last rays of the day turning the sky behind her a rosy pink.

Upon sighting him, she tilted her head, her brown eyes pleading. He’d always been helpless against big brown eyes.

Sucker
.

He clamped his lips shut and approached, unlocking the door and opening it a few inches. “We’re closed.”

“I’m . . . not here to buy a tent.”

He steeled himself against her. Against the innocence of her eyes, the cuteness of her freckled nose, the silky smoothness of her hair. His fingers tingled with the desire to run through the soft strands. Then he remembered the things she’d said nearly a week ago.

“What do you want, Molly?”

“Can I come in?”

He sighed, opening the door. He gave her a wide berth, but the citrusy scent of her shampoo that wafted in with her was nearly his undoing. Maybe his brain knew it was over, but his body tended to forget.

He closed the door and planted his feet. No need to take her into his office. Whatever this was couldn’t take long, and the sooner she left, the better.

She seemed to take the hint, shuffling in place, her eyes bouncing off his.

He crossed his arms. “I heard about the gold. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. It . . . it’s been quite the week.”

“I’m sure.”

She tried to stuff her hands in her pockets, then seemed to realize she didn’t have any. Her hands floundered for a minute before settling at her side. A delicate blush bloomed on her cheeks. Why’d she have to be so stinking cute?

“This won’t take long. I just want to—I, um, I owe you an apology.”

He raised a brow, waiting. The air-conditioning kicked on, ruffling the hair alongside her face. His fingers yearned to tuck it behind her ears. He knotted his hands into fists.

“I know I was wrong about the invoice.” Her eyes darted to his before finding the floor. “I know you were going to pay it for me.”

Her eyes found his, big, brown and a little damp. “I said some awful things—jumped to the wrong conclusion, a terrible one. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m so sorry.” She shook her head, her mouth opening and closing twice before she found words. “I don’t know what to say. You were so kind to help me. You spent hours helping me, and I—” She shook her head again. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” The question popped out before he could stop it.
What does it matter, Turner?

“Why?” She looked down at her feet. At her sandals, size 6-½, if he wasn’t mistaken. Her cute toes peeked out, her pink toenails glittering under the showroom lights.
“Listen, Gage, there’s no excuse for my behavior. The truth is, I thought the worst of you from the beginning. I . . . have some trust issues. After Curtis died, I found out he’d hidden things from me—like that loan. I didn’t know he’d put our house up for collateral. He . . . he forged my signature. There were other things too.”

Gage’s stomach twisted. He bit his tongue before he said something he regretted. Curtis was still her late husband, still the father of her child.

“I trusted him, and finding out he’d hidden things from me kind of made me suspicious. I carried those feelings over to you because Curtis had said some things about you over the years . . .”

“Like . . . ?” Gage could imagine. But he’d rather know the truth.

She winced, then shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s no excuse. I’d spent enough time with you to know better.” She gave a wry smile. “And I should know by now I can’t trust everything Curtis said.”

He regarded her, his ire having cooled at her explanation. It didn’t excuse her behavior, but it made sense now. “We were rivals in high school, he probably told you.”

“He said you took his spot on the football team.” She shrugged. “Stole his girlfriend.”

He gave a harsh laugh. “We competed for the same spot on the football team. I earned that position. And the girl . . . she was never interested in him. They’d been friends, only he wanted more. This was all so long ago.”

She bit her lip. “Did you put up roadblocks when we were trying to open our store?”

“What?
No
.” What had the man told her? His ire was building again. He stuffed it down. He wasn’t going to denigrate her dead husband.

“And you never stole our customers either, I’m guessing.”

He unclenched his jaw. “That’s not who I am, Molly. I play fair. There’s room in this town for both of us.”

Something flashed in her eyes before she looked away. He wondered what that look was about.

She crossed her arms over her chest as if needing a shield. But she met his eyes. “I believe you. And I’m sorry I said all those things. Sorry I believed the worst about you. Clearly I have some . . . issues to work out.” Her eyes dropped to the floor. “But that’s not your problem. I’ll get out of your way.” She turned and grabbed the handle. “Thanks for hearing me out, Gage.”

The door opened, and she slipped through it, shutting it behind her. The bell tinkled good-bye for him.

His heart hammered in his chest, fast and hard. The store felt quieter, emptier, lonelier than it ever had. Molly filled his world with fun. Laughter. She filled his heart with love. Was he going to let her walk away because she’d made a mistake? Because she’d believed her late husband? Because the man she’d trusted had betrayed that trust? Yeah, she had issues. But didn’t they all?

He reached for the door.