Angel Lane (23 page)

“Sure,” he said, and wondered how much other stuff he'd get suckered into buying before they got around to getting birthday presents. “Come on, Liss, there must be something here.” At the rate they were going the party would be over and they'd still be standing in the toy aisle deciding on a present.

“There's nothing,” Lissa said in disgust.

Josh scratched his chin, hoping for inspiration. None came. If they were shopping for a boy they'd have been done by now. He'd have gotten that cool Airzooka or the ant farm.

Lissa turned from the toy aisle and Josh trailed her, calling over his shoulder, “Come on, Mandy.”

Mandy reluctantly put back the coloring book she'd been looking at and joined the parade.

They passed an aisle already brimming with Christmas things and Mandy snagged a little snow globe with a Santa inside it. “I want to give this to Damaris.”

“That's nice,” he said. Good.
One down, one to go
. “See anything here?” he asked his oldest daughter hopefully. “There's a lot of cool candy.”

Mandy fell for it. She picked up an M&M's novelty candy dispenser complete with candy. “I want to give this to her, too.”

“Okay, that should do it for you,” Josh said after looking at the price. Someday, before they got much older, he'd have to explain to the girls about budgets.

Meanwhile, Lissa was striding down the aisle like a girl on a mission. She didn't stop until she got to the makeup section. There she began to pull bottles of nail polish off the shelf.

Nail polish? “How old is this kid?” Josh asked.

“She'll like this,” Lissa said, ignoring his question and adding a bottle of blue polish to the black, red, and pink ones she already had.

What did he know? “Okay.”

Lissa would have opted for a dozen bottles of polish, but he stopped her at five. The stuff wasn't cheap.

“Hey, guys, we did good, huh?” he asked, checking the rearview mirror as they drove away.

“Yep, we did,” agreed Mandy, who already had her new doll out of the bag and was looking at it.

Lissa sat regarding her purchase, frowning. “It's not very much.”

“At thirty bucks? It's plenty.”

“Everyone else is going to be giving her
High School Musical
stuff,” Lissa said.

“Well, Liss, we can't help it if there isn't any left in the store,” Josh said reasonably.

“Can't we go to the mall?” she begged.

“I want to go to the mall,” said Mandy, always up for more fun.

Josh checked his watch. “I'm not sure we've got time.” He looked in the rearview mirror to see how Lissa would take the news.

She looked downright despondent. Her present hadn't measured up, even though she'd tried. That was pretty much his fault. He should have remembered about the party, had Dad take the girls to the mall where Lissa could have scoured the stores till she found something she'd been really happy with. That was what Crystal would have done. Damn. He should have remembered about the party.

They were at the four-way stop at the end of Lake Way now. To the left and down that road lay Valentine Square, and a certain chocolate shop. “Want to get her something from the Chocolate Bar?” Josh suggested. No hidden agenda there.

Lissa brightened. “Yeah.” She hopped out of the car as soon as Josh had parked and ran into the shop ahead of him, Mandy hot on her heels. She and Jamie were already deep in conversation by the time he walked through the door.

Jamie reminded him of the doll he'd bought Mandy: slim, pretty, dressed to kill. It was only a sweater and jeans, but the way they showed off what was under them was killing him. Her hair was pulled back and little gold earrings glinted in her ears.

She smiled at him. Was it just a friendly smile or was there a hint of wanting in there somewhere? He couldn't be sure. At least she wasn't frowning at him. And no nervous hiccups. That had to be progress.

He flashed his best grin at her. “Did you hear? We've got a present emergency.”

“I did, and I think I can help you. It's going to take a few minutes, though.” She slid three cups of hot chocolate across the counter. “Here's something to drink while you wait.”

“Thanks,” he said, and took it.

“Thank you,” said Lissa, smiling as she reached for her drink, and her sister echoed her.

Josh took one look at the little tables and chairs and opted to remain standing. So did the girls. They hovered by the counter, watching with big eyes as Jamie nested the bottles of nail polish and a variety of truffles in metallic white shredded paper inside a gold gift box.

She wrapped the box in gold ribbon, then slid it across the counter to Lissa. “There you go.”

“It's so pretty,” Lissa breathed.

“I think your friend will like it,” Jamie said.

“What if she doesn't?” Lissa worried.

Jamie shrugged. “Then she'll pretend, because real friends try hard not to hurt each other.”

A good bit of wisdom thrown in as a bonus. It sounded like something Crystal might have told their daughter.

“Thanks,” said Josh, stepping up to the cash register. “What do I owe you?”

“Five dollars.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That barely covers the drinks.”

“The drinks are on the house.” Josh tripled the amount, but she shoved the extra bills back at him. “Don't be ruining my
good deed again or I'll have to report you to the Heart Lake Angel Patrol.”

He gave up and gave the counter a playful rap. “Okay, thanks. You're a lifesaver.”

“All in a day's work for a chocolate superhero,” she said.

He was tempted to ask if chocolate superheroes ever changed into average small-town girls and went on dates on a Saturday night, but asking her in front of Lissa didn't seem like a good idea, so he kept his mouth shut and ushered his daughters out of the candy shop. And once he was out in the cold, fresh air and could think clearly he remembered that asking her out wouldn't be a good idea. Period. Jamie was not in the market for a man, at least not the law-enforcement variety. Much as he would love to serve and protect her twenty-four/seven, he'd be crazy to let himself keep falling for her.

It looked like his daughters already had. The girls talked about Jamie the whole way home.

The present was ready to go a lot faster than his oldest daughter. They had about half an hour until they had to leave and she took every minute of it. “Where's your sister?” he asked Mandy when she came out of the bedroom.

“She's putting on a different top,” Mandy said with a shrug.

The all-important preparty what-to-wear phase. Lissa was just a little girl. What was she doing in that phase already? And then it hit Josh. This was like clouds on the horizon, heralding a change. He wasn't ready for his little girl to grow up, for boys to start following her with just one thing on their minds. For her to start wanting bras and buying maxi-pads.

His mind shied away from this new mental trail. He couldn't go there. But he was going to, probably sooner than he wanted. And so far, the only person he had to go with him was his dad.

Lissa was hurrying down the hall now. “Let's go, Daddy.”

They needed a woman who understood girls, someone they could look up to.

A woman who had blond hair and made chocolates.

Maybe he and Jamie could date just as friends. Would she do that? Would she want to even hang out with him as friends? She seemed to like her life with no complications. And he sure came with complications.

Still, the more Josh thought about the woman who rescued lost kids, who loved her family, and played charades and laughed with his daughters, the more he became convinced that he really owed it to his family to date her.

Now he just had to convince Jamie Moore that she owed it to herself to date a cop with a banged-up heart who came with two kids and a dad. That could take a lot of convincing.

 

 

 

 

E
mma was in Sarah's bakery Monday morning, hanging up a lost-cat poster. In addition to the cat's picture, Emma had provided both her phone number and address. At the bottom of the poster, she'd added in big bold letters:
LIKES TO HIDE UNDER BUSHES
.

“I've been putting them up all over town,” she told Sarah. “I hope he's okay. It's getting really cold out.”

Sarah was more worried about Emma than the cat. “I'm sure you'll find him waiting on your porch when you get home tonight,” she assured Emma. “He probably just had a yen to go catting around.”

Emma's eyes got teary. “He ran away. I yelled at him. And he didn't get his dinner last night.”

“He's been well fed. He could probably afford to live off his
fat for a week,” Sarah assured her. She didn't look assured, so Sarah handed her a ginger cookie. “Here, this will make you feel better.”
Sort of
.

“Nothing's going to make me feel better,” Emma declared, and took a big bite. “I'd better go. I've got to put up some more posters and then get back to the shop.”

Sarah watched her leave and sighed. Poor Emma was in a major slump. First her shop and now her cat. Not a good way to go into the holiday season. Sarah understood how hard it was to lose something—or someone—you cared about. If only a grandma could put up posters and have someone bring back her granddaughters. But at least she had granddaughters. And kids, and a husband. Emma needed more in her life than a cat. There had to be somebody at the fire station that she and Sam could hook Emma up with.

“She looks like her best friend died,” said Amber Howell as she restocked a tray with a fresh batch of orange oatmeal cookies.

“Just about. Her cat ran away.”

“Aw, that really sucks.”

“It does. That cat was her big love.”

“Maybe she needs to find a bigger love,” said Amber.

“It's hard to find Mr. Perfect. And easy to just give up and settle for what you're stuck with.”

“But you can't give up. That never gets you anywhere.” Amber smiled at a new customer.

“Sometimes I think I should just be sneaky and put an ad in the paper. ‘Perfect man wanted,' ” Sarah said, and turned to greet whoever it was Amber was smiling at.

“What looks good today?” asked Leo Steele, giving her his
lounge-lizard grin. “Besides the baker.” Leo's greeting was getting as stale as his aging-lothario clothes. Today he was wearing slacks and a shirt that he'd left open halfway down his chest and his leather bomber jacket.

“Everything's good here. You know that, Leo,” Sarah replied.

“That's for sure. I guess I'll have one of those cinnamon rolls,” he decided.

“Good choice. Amber, you want to get Mr. Steele a cinnamon roll?”

“I'll take a cup of coffee with that, too. Sarah, you look tired. Take a break, lemme buy you a cup of coffee.”

“I'd love to, Leo,” Sarah said, backing toward the kitchen. “I've got too much to do today. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Okay,” he called after her. “Take it easy.”

Take it easy, ha! After work she had her junior bakers to contend with, and Lezlie Hurst from the
Herald
was coming over to do a story. “This is a perfect story to start December and get people in the mood to do good deeds,” Lezlie had assured her.

Sarah just hoped the girls behaved. For their last baking class they were making snowball cookies—hard to screw up and no eggs involved. And she'd already made the dough for the frosted sugar cookies. The afternoon should go smoothly. Lezlie was coming toward the end of class so she could get a picture of the girls and their finished product.

“What are we making today?” asked Damaris as they washed their hands.

“More Christmas cookies. After this, you'll all be experts.”
And I'll be free
. Not that she wanted to be free of all the girls. Just one.

The afternoon went without mishap if not without mess. Four little girls and a bowl of frosting and jar of sprinkles was a recipe for disaster, Sarah realized as she chased stray bits of colored candy with her broom. But the frosted cookies were a huge success. After they had rolled the last batch of snowball cookies in powdered sugar, making a fresh mess, she said, “Now, to celebrate the end of class, we have a special guest coming.”

“My grandma?” guessed Beanie.

“She's not special,” said Damaris. “She was here last week.”

“Of course Mrs. Bateman is special,” Sarah said. In her own weird way. At least Beanie thought so.

Beanie gave Damaris a so-there smile, basking in her moment of one-upsmanship.

“But Mrs. Bateman is not our guest. Miss Hurst from the
Heart Lake Herald
is going to do a story on our baking class and she's coming to take a picture of us for the paper.”

The girls looked at each other, then let out squeals of excitement.

“Oh, my gosh. My hair!” cried Damaris, and ran for her backpack.

“Mine, too,” said Lissa.

“Mine, too,” Mandy parroted.

“Beanie, you need to let me do your hair,” said Damaris as they all stampeded for the bathroom. “Mrs. Goodwin, do you have hairspray?”

FCA—future celebrities of America, thought Sarah, following them down the hall.

But she got into the spirit, too, digging out some of the ribbons,
bows, and barrettes she always kept on hand for her granddaughters.

“This is so cool,” said Damaris. “I've never been in the paper before. But someday, when I'm famous, I'm gonna be. A lot.”

Hopefully she wouldn't be in there as a criminal mastermind, Sarah thought. She couldn't help smiling, though, as she watched the girls primping in front of the mirror. Every little girl should have a chance to feel special once in a while.

Hmm. So should every grown-up. She grabbed a brush, saying, “Pass me that hairspray, Beanie.”