Second Chance (Cold Springs Series Book 1) (7 page)

Ian checked his appearance in the mirror.  For God’s sake, it was just pizza, but he had changed into the best jeans and T-shirt he owned.  He didn’t own many clothes, just enough to get by every couple of days before he had to do laundry again.

Running a comb through his hair again, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.  He hurried down the steep flight of stairs that snaked up the side of Burt’s garage.  Inside, he found Burt inspecting his truck. 

“Problems?”

“This damn thing is making noise again.”  Burt pushed himself out from under the truck. 

Ian grabbed his hand and hoisted him up.  “I can look at it for you.”

“No, I think I got it.”

“What’d you do?”

“I put some more oil in her.”  Burt wiped his greasy hands on his shirt.  “I put a quart in just about a day or two ago.”

“Why don’t you let me take a look at it?”

“Because you got things to do.”  Burt stepped in front of him, preventing him from looking under the hood.  “Where you off to?”

Ian didn’t want to tell Burt.  He didn’t like keeping things from him, but he didn’t want Burt taking the pizza night between himself and Sam as anything other than appreciation for her business.  Still, he could lie to Burt no more than he could believe in Santa Claus.  “I’m taking Sam Stone for pizza.  She hired me for a couple of jobs. It’s the least I can do.”

Burt’s expression told him more than he wanted to hear.  “You two would make a good pair.   Sam’s got a lot of Jean in her, and Jean was a good woman.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Not now, but maybe later, if you play your cards right.”

Ian smiled and patted Burt on the shoulder.  “I’ll look at that engine right after I get back.  Don’t drive it until I look at it.”

Burt sent him off with a wave of his hand.  “I know how to take care of my own truck.  Now get out of here.”

Ian smiled and hopped in his beater truck.  It only took two tries to start, and he slowly back out of the driveway and into the street.

Cold Springs was having a brilliant sunny day, not too hot and not too cold considering northern New York was a land of temperature extremes.  Today was easy and slow.  Just the way he liked it.

He pulled up to Sam’s diner and stepped out of his truck.  Anxiety hit him hard.  Maybe he should have called first.  Sam had likely changed her mind about the whole thing.  Especially after what her mother had said about him.  Not that everything she said wasn’t true. He had no business having anything to do with her or messing up her life.

He knocked on the front door. 

The little bell above the door rang as Sam opened the door.  “Hi.”

“Hi, Ian.  Come in.” 

“I didn’t know if I should call first.  You probably don’t—”

“That’s fine.  I was ready anyway.”  She grabbed her purse.  “Where do you want to go?”

Panic formed a knot in Ian’s gut.  He hadn’t thought this thing through.  For an entire year he’d been careful not to draw attention to himself.  He’d never intended on going into a public place with her.  A restaurant could raise the stakes to dangerous levels.  He didn’t give two shits what others thought about him, but he didn’t want Sam to be humiliated by his doing.  There were no pizza delivery places for miles so he’d picked up two frozen pizzas at the grocery store the next town over. If word got around that they were seeing each other, when in fact they clearly were not, the town wouldn’t let Sam forget it.  Any customers she hoped to gain in this town would be lost.

He swallowed hard, nodded to the brown paper bag he carried.  Nothing good ever came from lying.  “I was hoping we could eat here.  I bought a couple pepperoni pizzas.  I thought we could cook them up here.  I hope that’s okay.”

She seemed confused.  Or disappointed.  But what did it matter?  This wasn’t a date.  Just a payment of gratitude.  Nothing more.

“That’s…fine,” she answered, slipping the handle of her purse over the coat rack.  “We certainly have plenty of places to sit.”

She strolled into the kitchen and appeared with a bottle of wine.  “It isn’t fancy.”

“I don’t drink.”  His response was automatic.  I don’t think it’s wise with my past, he wanted to add, but didn’t.

Sam set the bottle down on the counter.  “Oh, um…do you like soda?  I have all kinds.”

“Whatever’s good.”  He wiped his palms off on his jeans and sat down at one of the tables.  “I don’t mean to put you out.  If you had other plans—”

“No, no plans.  Just lots of work left to be done, but I could really use a break.”

“What else do you need to do?”

She paused, as if going over a list in her head.  “I still have shelves to stock, more cleaning.  There’s always cleaning, but the majority is done, I suppose.”

Just then a kitten appeared around his ankles.  He looked down at the delicate orange ball of fur and held his hand out for it to sniff.  The cat rubbed its face on his index finger and purred loudly.  “So Burt struck, I see.”

“He certainly did.”  Sam approached the table with two large glasses.  She took the frozen pizzas and placed them on two pans and disappeared with them into the kitchen. “I’m naming him Chance because he represents my second chance coming here.”

“So you’re keeping him?”

“Why not?  I’ve never owned a pet.”

He chuckled.  “I had a German shepherd growing up.” 

“I remember.”  Sam laughed.  “He and you were inseparable.  Did he die of old age?”

“I don’t know.  Mom got rid of him right after—” He paused, remembering the letter his mother had written.  Euthanized.  She didn’t want any trace of her son around.  He had shamed them.  Mom hadn’t come out and said that in the letter but Ian had assumed that was why. He had probably made his entire family a laughingstock to this town. Cold Springs offered no forgiveness, and to think his family had received any was just fooling himself.  That was the last letter he’d received from any part of his family.  Mom had come to visit him once, and Ian had refused to see her, then no one had come again.  He knew it must be hard for them, especially Mom, and he wasn’t going to force himself on any of them.  It would be better for everyone to just forget about him, if possible, and hopefully they would all find peace in their lives.

Sam was looking at him with a strange expression on her face.  Heat rose at the back of his neck as embarrassment suddenly got the best of him.  Coming here tonight had been a huge mistake. 

“Things must have been pretty hard on you.”

He shrugged, at a loss for words.  He didn’t want her pity.  He didn’t want anything.  Just the damn pizza already. 

As if on cue, the oven timer buzzed.  Thankful for something to break the tension, Ian went to the kitchen to get the pizza.  He came back, set it down on one of the adjoining tables. 

When Sam had gathered forks and a spatula, she sat down and held the plates as he served.  Her stomach growled, loud enough for him to hear.  

“It’s funny how sometimes I’m too busy to think about food now.”  She laughed. “I ate all the time when I was working at the agency.  I guess it has something to do with brain work versus physical work.”

“You don’t look it.  Like you ate all the time, I mean.”

“Uh, thanks.”

He smiled.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.  I just meant a lot of women your age have put on weight. You haven’t.”

“You know I’ve always been gangly.”

Anything but the sort
, Ian thought but kept quiet. He couldn’t deny that he was attracted to her. She was cute as a kid, but now. Now she was a knock out, even in work clothes covered with kitchen grease.

“I always figured you were too good for me.”  He hadn’t meant to say that. 

Sam put her slice down.  “What?”

“I guess that’s why I left you stranded that night.   What I mean is, Jane Benton was just a piece of tail.  Like I told you, I was a stupid kid back then. I abandoned you for a girl I knew would put out.”  When she didn’t respond, he added, “I would have wanted to, um, do it with you, too, but you…you just weren’t that type of girl.”

Christ, that sounded like a line. He wanted to say something to fix it but nothing came to mind.  Sam looked away, picked up her fork and toyed with the topping of her pizza. Color flushed her cheeks and he didn’t know if he’d embarrassed or insulted her.  The guy before prison had been a selfish ass. The ex-con wasn’t much better. Tonight was a mistake. He should have never come here.

He quickly finished his pizza, stood and cleared his plate. “I got to get going. I have to get an early start tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she quickly answered, her expression questioning. “Okay.”

He quickly washed his own dishes then let himself out without another word.

CHAPTER FIVE

Sam was downstairs before sunrise the next morning.  She hurriedly showered, dressed, and unlocked the front door well before seven. 

She hadn’t slept well.  Ian had been on her mind all night.  He hadn’t stayed after eating only one slice of pizza, claiming he had some estimates to do on a new deck for the Fitzpatricks.  Sam tried not to feel slighted.  Of course, the man had things to do.  He was trying to start up a business.  And last night certainly wasn’t a date!  He was thanking her for her business, just as he had stated.  That was all, and he had said she wasn’t the type of girl that he’d normally take advantage of, which was sweet and she should have felt flattered over.  His admission seemed genuine. 

Loneliness hit her hard and fast.  Whenever she would feel alone in the city, she would call up Maddy, her co-worker.  Maddy could type over a hundred words per minute and party as hard as she worked.  Even though Sam wasn’t much of a partier, Maddy could always cheer her up.

Sam wondered what Maddy’s hair color of the month was now.  If it wasn’t jet black with wide purple streaks, the whole thing was hot pink or whatever color could call the most attention her way.  Maddy was fun and flirty, everything Sam was not.  Maddy would frequently tease her about her lack of a social life, but Sam never minded.  She enjoyed her lackluster life.  It was peaceful and organized, but right now Sam missed Maddy.  Maddy would know what to do about Ian.  Not that Sam would ever act on any of Maddy’s suggestions, but she was an excellent shoulder to cry on.  Something Sam really needed right now. 

Grabbing her cell phone from the counter, she started to text her then stopped.  Five a.m. on a Saturday was not the best time to bother Maddy.  The girl was likely hung over from the night before or not home entirely.  She’d wait until later.

The bell over the door chimed as Burt walked in.  “Mornin’.”

“Hi, Burt.”  Sam started the coffeemaker.  Burt had come by for coffee every morning since she’d arrived in Cold Springs.  “You’re here early.”

“I wouldn’t miss interview day for the world.”

Sam’s heart nearly tripped a beat.  She’d been so distracted with Ian that she’d almost forgotten about the two interviews she had set up today.  She hoped one of them would work out.  She wanted to hire only one waitress and one cook.  No one had answered her ad for a cook yet.  Hopefully someone would soon.

“Ian wasn’t home last night around suppertime.”

Sam didn’t pretend not to presume Burt hadn’t known exactly what had transpired last night.  She couldn’t hide her grin.  “What was said about me?”

“Oh, nothing.  I just noticed that Ian’s truck was parked outside.”

“He brought me pizza in appreciation for hiring him.”

“Oh?”  Burt’s expression was ridiculous.

Sam snapped a towel at him. “That’s right, ‘oh.’  One piece of pizza and he didn’t even finish his soda and he was gone.  Nothing.  Happened.”

Sam expected more jokes. She didn’t expect Burt’s expression to turn serious.  “Ian’s had a hard life.  He’s seen things that would break most people.”

Sam waited for Burt to go on, but he stopped and drank his coffee.  Sam busied herself with the diner, turning on the radio and the little television in the upper corner over the counter.

She came back to the counter and leaned her elbows across from Burt. “How come you took him under your wing like you did anyway?”

Burt didn’t make eye contact with her, just looked straight ahead, drinking his coffee.  “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. This whole town treats Ian Woods like scum except you. Why? You didn’t even know him before I left for New York.”

Burt drank thoughtfully. He set his cup down with a tired sigh. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

“Like what?”

              “Your aunt was good to me.”

              “Tell me something I don’t know.” Sam didn’t know what he was getting at, but she had a feeling Burt would stop talking and she didn’t want that.

“Jean accepted me for who I was, always had. She knew I had a shady past, had run ins with the law when I was younger and she stood by me anyways.” Burt met her stare. “Your mother always said your aunt could do better.  I was a bum and I was no good for her, but Jean didn’t care. She told your mother to mind her own business.”

Burt smiled, as if recalling the memory with fondness and love. “Least I could do was return the favor to someone else. The boy needed a new start. He needed a break, and someone had to give him one.  It might as well be me.  And he turned out to be a damn fine young man too.”

Sam didn’t know what to say.  She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. No one had ever said a word about Burt ever breaking the law. “What’d you do?”

“Does it matter?”

No, it didn’t. She loved Burt, always had. “No, of course not. I just—”

“Then get me another cup of coffee and don’t worry about it.”

~ * ~

A couple hours passed when the front door opened and a young woman popped her head inside.  “Um…hi.”

“Hi.”  Sam and Burt spoke at once.

“I’m here for the waitress interview?”  She ended her statement with a question.

The girl was cute to say the least.  Her hair was blond, cut off bluntly above the shoulders to reveal large gold earrings swinging from each side of her head like miniature chandeliers.  Gorgeous curves, short black skirt, tight in all the right places, an even tighter linen, flowered blouse which exposed a generous portion of cleavage.  A pushup bra had to be the only explanation how she got her D-size girls up that high.

Rushing to meet her, Sam extended her hand.  “I’m Sam.  I own Jean’s Diner.”

“I’m Chrissy Kramer.”  Chrissy’s handshake was weak and nervous.

“Nice to meet you.”  Sam pulled out a chair at the nearest table. “Why don’t we sit down and talk?”

“I’m Burt” came the voice at the counter.

Chrissy crossed the room to shake his hand.  “Hi, Burt.  I’m Chrissy.”

“Pleased to know ya.”  Burt beamed from ear to ear. 

“Do you own Jean’s Diner, too?”

“No, but I knew Jean very well.  Where ya from?”

“I just moved here from the city.”  Chrissy nodded.  “I go to college part-time.”

“What are you studying?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Burt took a drink of his coffee. “How can you be studying what you’re not sure of?”

Chrissy laughed nervously.  “I…I guess I don’t know.”

“I think I’d rethink what you’re doin’.  Spending an awful lot of money on something you’re not sure of doesn’t make much sense to me.”

Chrissy didn’t know what to make of Burt’s comment.  Sam could see that clearly on her face.  Most people didn’t know how to take Burt. 

“Can I get you some coffee?” Sam hoped to ease the poor girl’s discomfort. “Soda? Water?”

“Water would be nice.”

Sam quickly got her a bottle of water.  She placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she handed her the bottle. 

“Who on earth drinks water this time in the morning?” Burt asked.

“Don’t mind him.  He’s…uh…he’s an early customer,” Sam explained. She had a feeling she’d be explaining Burt to a lot of people in the very near future. 

“Oh, that’s okay.” Chrissy flashed an infectious smile.  “He’s a cutie.”

Burt grinned from ear to ear.

Sam grabbed her notebook off the counter.  “Why don’t we sit down and get started?”

Chrissy followed her to the table.  “How come your name isn’t Jean?”

“Jean was my aunt.”

Chrissy nodded.  “You should name it Sam’s Diner.”

Sam smiled.  She’d thought briefly about changing the name.  Not to Sam’s Diner but to something trendy involving coffee, but it seemed to be a disservice to all that Aunt Jean had built up.  Everything which Sam hoped to carry on. Without her, Sam would still be in New York.  Plus Jean had a reputation here.  When the people of Cold Springs came here, they expected a hot beverage and a good meal.  And lots of it.  Sam had no right taking that away. 

“So,” she began. “I need to hire a waitress.”

“She’s hired.”  Burt strolled over with coffee mug in hand and pulled up a chair.  He stared at her cleavage like a dehydrated horse at water.  “When can you start?”

“No, Burt.  She’s not.  Not yet anyway.”

“Well, she looks promising.”

Sam ignored him.  “So tell me about your work experience.”

Chrissy rested her arms on the table.  “I don’t have any, but I like people.  I like talking to them.  I like making sure they’re happy.  I think everyone should be happy, don’t you?”

“I do,” Burt agreed.

The bell on the door sounded and a woman suddenly came in. Middle fifties, maybe early sixties, she was close to six feet tall and built like an oak tree.  Gray-brown hair was pinned in a sixties era beehive. She wore white scrubs and a white smock, buttoned to the neck.  Shoes were something nurses—or waitresses—wore for comfort when working a double shift. 

“Hi.”  Sam stood.  “May I help you?”

The woman crossed the room in three easy strides.  “Martha Simms.  I’m applying for the waitress position.”

Chrissy had been the first to response to her newspaper ad.  Sam had simply put a phone number, no address or location.  “How did you find the address?”

“This is Cold Springs.  It wasn’t too hard to figure out.”

“Martha.” Burt crossed his arms in front of his chest.  “How’s Bill?”

“He’s fine, except for the gout again.  Can’t even walk this time.”

“You two know each other?” Sam asked.

“It’s Cold Springs,” they both said at once.

Sam pulled out another chair.  “Okay, well…I was just interviewing.  Martha, why don’t you join us and I’ll interview both of you together?”

Sam hadn’t planned on a dual interview, and her heart raced with nerves.  She’d never interviewed anyone for anything before.  Part of her wondered if they would find her a fraud, and soon the whole county would know she had no clue what she was doing.  That all of this was new, all very much out of her league, and she would fail.  Fall flat on her face and be known to the people of Cold Springs as the niece who had ruined Jean’s Diner.

Sam squared her shoulders.  “Chrissy, this is Martha.  Martha, Chrissy.  Chrissy was just telling me about her work experience.  Martha, how about you?”

“I have been in the food industry for over twenty-five years.”

Burt got himself another cup of coffee and sat down.  “Martha was the lunch lady up at the high school for ten of that. Until she told off Henry Kegg.”

“He mowed over my rose bushes!” Martha defended.   “His wife’s the school superintendent.  Thinks she can pull her weight around the whole neighborhood.  I told them I want to be paid for my rosebushes.  They weren’t cheap and the Keggs make damn more money than I do.”

“They still don’t get along,” Burt added.

“Everybody running that school thinks they’re better than everybody!” Martha slammed her fist on the table, making Sam jump. “And they never paid me for the roses.”

Sam wrote down Martha’s name. “Where else have you worked?”

“La Trattoria, The Coffee Mug, most recently The Rustic Crab.”

“I like to eat,” Chrissy piped up.  “I like helping people eat.”

“You’re hired.”  Burt didn’t even hesitate.