Willowleaf Lane (20 page)

Maura laughed again. “That’s not what I meant. I can’t tell you because I have no idea. It’s all very hush-hush. I received six of them in a delivery from an anonymous source, asking if I would put them in the store to see if they would sell. If they do, I’m supposed to send whatever portion of the profit I felt was right to a PO Box in Denver. I was also sent an anonymous email address to reorder.”

Intriguing. Anonymous, nonsolicited consignment sales weren’t exactly a traditional way of doing business. “What if they don’t sell?”

“My instructions are to donate them to Goodwill, apparently. I don’t think that will be an issue. I only put them out yesterday, and I’ve sold all but these two.”

She thought the bags were cute already but the hint of mystery behind them only added to the appeal. “I’ll take them both,” she said promptly. She could always use another bag.

Maura grinned. “Guess I’m sending an email to the mysterious Madame X to order more.”

Maura took her personally to an empty register to check out—and threw in a brownie and a couple of the huge wrapped oatmeal raisin cookies she sold at the coffee counter portion of her store.

“Take these to Spence. He came in earlier in the week and grabbed one with his coffee.”

That was why Dog-Eared Books & Brew thrived in an economy where so many other bookstores were struggling, Charlotte thought. That personal touch. Maura noticed those little details about her customers and cared enough to make sure they were happy.

After Maura rang her up—insisting on a store discount, despite Charlotte’s objections—she helped Charlotte arrange the books and magazines in the bag.

“Oh, good. I was hoping there would be a little room leftover,” Charlotte said. “I’ve got some cute pajamas and socks in the car for Peyton.”

“Nice touch,” Maura said. She came around the checkout counter and walked with Charlotte to the door. She handed over the bag, a little frown between her eyes. “Okay, I have to ask. I’ve bitten my tongue long enough. What’s going on between you and Spence?”

Charlotte’s stomach fluttered. She had been expecting this question from one—or
all
—of her friends for some time now.

“Nothing. Not really. We’re...friends.”

She thought of everything else: the tender, almost desperate way he had held on to her at the doctor’s office; those wild, fiery kisses; that moment in her bedroom when she had experienced the most intense pleasure of her life.

She cleared her throat. “They live on Willowleaf Lane near me. Peyton and I have struck up a friendship. She’s a sweet girl who has been through a very rough time.”

“I can only imagine.”

“I see something of myself in her,” she admitted. “I lost my mom when I was about her age, too, and...well, I understand how it feels to lose somebody you care about.”

Maura squeezed her shoulder. “If she needs anything else, let me know. I understand that particular feeling myself.”

She gave her friend a hug and headed out into the fading sunlight toward the café, where she knew her order should be ready by now.

She intended to simply grab the food and dash back to the hospital, but the first thing she heard when she walked through the door was her father’s slight Irish drawl.

“Why, if it isn’t my favorite girl. Twice in only a few hours.”

Oh, fudge. She didn’t have time to talk to him or endure an interrogation. Of all the people in town she didn’t want wondering about her sudden involvement in the lives of Spence and Peyton, her father would have to top the list. She wasn’t sure he would understand at all—especially when
she
still didn’t quite fathom their complicated relationship.

“Hi, Pop.” She kissed his cheek.

“Have you come to have dinner with me then? What a lovely surprise.”

“No, I’m afraid I’m only picking up a take-out order.”

“Ah, you’ve come to break my heart. You want my food but not my company.”

She shook her head at his teasing. “I seem to recall we just had family dinner together last week.”

It was tough to get all her brothers together when they were all going in different directions but Pop did his best.

“I suppose you’re off. Where are you going tonight? Are you heading up to see our Dylan?”

She thought about making something up but Dermot had an uncanny ability to see through any prevarication.

“I had planned to but...things changed. You know Peyton Gregory, right?”

“Spencer’s daughter? That wee little thing who wouldn’t have any of my pie earlier today?”

That moment seemed like hours ago. Amazing how a life can change in just a short time. When Peyton wouldn’t even touch any of Pop’s delicious pie, Charlotte should have figured out something was up.

“Yes. After you left, she had a little incident and passed out. She’s been to see Susannah Harris, who is admitting her to the hospital overnight, just for a few tests. I’m taking dinner back to Spence, along with a few little things to make the night more comfortable for Peyton.”

Her father’s handsome features twisted with worry. “Oh, the poor girl. How very thoughtful of you to worry over her. You would have made your mother so proud, my dear.”

She wasn’t sure her father would be giving her that approving look if he knew just how tangled her relationship with Spence had become.

“I should go. He’s bound to be hungry.”

“We can’t have that.” Pop grabbed the brown paper take-out bag. Before he handed it over, he slipped in a couple extra bags of chips. “Do you think Spencer would care for a piece of pie?”

“Maura gave me cookies and a brownie. He probably has all the sugar he needs for one night. Thanks, though.”

She kissed her father on the cheek again and hurried out, the throbbing of her ankle reminding her she still wasn’t wholly healed herself.

Spence would be astounded if he knew how many people were concerned about him and his daughter, she thought. Too bad
he
hadn’t been the one running around town receiving all these well-wishes.

Traffic was sparse as she drove back to the hospital. She loved this time of evening, when people were settling in for the night with their families or out having dinner together somewhere.

The brick and glass hospital gleamed in the summer sunset, looking modern and elegant surrounded by those timeless soaring mountains.

When she was a girl, the old redbrick three-story Miners Hospital had served the medical needs of Hope’s Crossing but this new state-of-the-art facility had been built a few years earlier. It made a vast improvement.

She recognized the woman behind the information desk and smiled. “Hi, Tina.”

“Hey, Charlotte. What can I help you with?”

Her clipped tone hurt. They used to be good friends in high school—fat girls tended to stick together—but they had lost track when Tina Butler had moved away after high school. The other woman had only been back in town about six months and seemed cold, almost resentful, every time Charlotte tried to make a friendly overture.

She didn’t have any idea why. She really hoped it had nothing to do with the fact that Charlotte had fought so hard to lose weight while Tina, four children later, had gained at least a hundred pounds since high school.

“I’m looking for a patient’s room. Peyton Gregory.”

Tina typed something into the computer. “She’s in room one-sixteen. Take a left.”

“Thank you.”

She didn’t say
You’re welcome.
“That’s Smoke Gregory’s daughter, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Charlotte said warily. It wasn’t exactly a secret.

“Oh, that must explain why she’s in the behavioral unit then. Crazy mother kills herself, father is addicted to drugs. What else can you expect?”

The shock of the unnecessary cruelty slid under her skin like a filet knife. She straightened, as angry as she had been in a long time when she considered the pain Peyton had endured.

“I don’t know. I guess I would expect common human decency, not to mention professional discretion. Or does the hospital condone its employees making out-of-line personal attacks on the people who come here for care? I’ll have to ask the administrator next time he comes to dinner at Pop’s.”

She gripped her bag tighter and walked away, her heart pounding in her chest. She never lost her temper but she could feel it pulsing through her.

Coming after the care and concern everyone had showed this afternoon, Tina’s attitude was a harsh reminder of what most of the world thought of Spence. How did he cope with that, day after day, especially when he wasn’t guilty?

Why his silence? It was a maddening question that had haunted her all weekend. Why wouldn’t he admit he hadn’t been dealing drugs to his teammates? Who was he protecting?

Somehow she didn’t think even Peyton knew the truth. If she did, perhaps she wouldn’t have the same negative attitude toward her father.

The door to Peyton’s room was slightly ajar. She peeked her head around and was grateful she hadn’t knocked loudly or barged in with a cheery hello. Peyton was asleep, curled up in a ball on the bed, her dark hair a vivid contrast to the white sheets. Spence sat in a chair beside her, head back and eyes closed.

With some vague intention of dropping off the goodies then sneaking out again, she tiptoed into the room. She set the bag of food from the café and the funky tote beside what looked like a dinner tray on the little wheeled table beside the bed.

She turned to go then froze when a strong hand grasped her wrist.

A tiny shocked “Oh” escaped her before she could choke it back and her gaze flew to his features, where a corner of his mouth had lifted at the sound.

He pressed a finger to his mouth and uncoiled from the chair like a big cat stretching in the sunlight, with an athletic grace of which he was probably completely unaware.

He gestured back through the doorway and she followed him, grabbing the bag with his dinner as an afterthought.

She handed it to him out in the hall. “How is she?”

“Seems to be fine. You saw she dozed off again, which is a little concerning, but the floor pediatrician stopped by and seemed to think it was no big deal.”

“That’s a relief.”

“We’ve mostly been settling in and having the IV hooked up.” He held up the bag. “Thanks for the meal. It smells delicious.”

“You’re welcome. Pop sends his best wishes. And when I stopped at the bookstore to find some things to help Peyton pass the time, Maura was also concerned for you. She sent some treats and said something about how you particularly enjoyed the oatmeal cookies the last time you stopped for coffee.”

“Really? That’s...very kind.”

He seemed taken aback and she wondered how long it had been since people had treated him with anything approaching kindness. “Everyone is very concerned for Peyton. People here worry about each other, Spence.”

“I guess I’m finding that out.” He held up the bag of food from the café.

“You should probably eat that sandwich while it’s fresh.”

“You know, I’m suddenly starving.”

She knew that feeling from her time with Dylan at the hospital—long stretches of time when she couldn’t even contemplate the idea of food, then random moments of famished hunger.

“I saw a dinner tray in the room. Did Peyton eat?”

He nodded, clearly troubled. “She didn’t want to but I told her it beats a tube up her nose.”

A small waiting area just outside Peyton’s room had vast windows overlooking the mountains. Spence took one of the chairs and reached into the bag.

“Two wraps. I’m not
that
hungry. I hope one is for you.”

She wasn’t hungry, either, but was hesitant to leave him yet. “I’ll have half of one,” she said.

They ate in silence. She could only eat a few bites and noticed Spence finished about half a sandwich before wrapping it closed again.

“Do you think she’ll be okay?”

The worry in his voice whispered its way into her heart. She could find no evidence of the cocky, arrogant Major League baseball star, only a father concerned for his child.
Love made us all vulnerable,
she thought.

She covered his hand with hers. “I could answer you with platitudes, I suppose.
She’s got you in her corner.
She’s tough enough to move past this.
She’s a fighter.
Those have their place, and all of them are true in their way. But it’s really up to Peyton.”

He turned his hand over and twisted his fingers through hers. “What the hell is a guy supposed to do in these circumstances? This is completely out of my range of experience.”

She squeezed his fingers. “You move forward, step by step. What else is left?”

He sighed and seemed to take some small measure of peace from either her words or her touch. She wasn’t sure which and it didn’t matter anyway.

They sat that way for a long moment, alone and silent in the waiting room, their hands entwined. A subtle intimacy, dangerously sweet, seemed to weave around them, and she didn’t want to move for fear of jostling away whatever comfort he might be finding.

Finally he sighed again. “I should probably get back in there,” he said after a minute. “She might wake up and be afraid when I’m not there.”

Their reappearance in the room was enough to startle Peyton awake. She gave them both a shaky smile, and her gaze landed immediately on the tote Charlotte had purchased at the bookstore.

“Wow. Great bag.”

Charlotte had to chuckle. Peyton was in the hospital hooked to an IV and various monitors and still found room to be fashion-conscious.

“I hoped you would like it,” she said with a smile.

“Me? You bought it for me?” Peyton looked thrilled and suddenly very, very young. “Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome, honey.” She leaned in and hugged Peyton. Out of the corner of her gaze, Charlotte was aware of Spence watching her with an odd expression that sent warmth all through her.

What was she doing here? she wondered as she straightened and moved away from the bed. She didn’t have a place in their lives. They were only here for six months’ penance, and then she had no doubt Spence would be back on his feet with other opportunities ahead of him.