The Old Fashioned Way (A Homespun Romance) (5 page)

Abby stared at the sliver of the moon hanging in the sky.  Far away she heard an owl call to its mate.  The sound was comforting, a part of her childhood memories, of waiting in this room for Gramps to come read to her, for Gran to bring her a glass of warm milk and kiss her goodnight. 

Childhood with its uncomplicated pattern seemed like a dream.  Being a grownup was entirely different.

Why had Daniel Hawthorn agreed to stay on? 

Not that she wasn't glad, Abby told herself quickly.  On the business level he was the best thing that had happened to her and Gran.  It was just that on the personal level she felt unsettled.  She hadn't felt this way in a long time, had vowed she would never let herself feel like this again.

Abby got into bed and pulled the red and white comforter over her.  Since Rod's death, three years ago, she had carefully buried her feelings.  No, that wasn't right.  She had buried her feelings during her marriage to Rod, not after.  It was the only way she had been able to protect herself.

Abby thought of the way Daniel's dark eyes rested on her, of the inexplicable attraction she couldn't quell towards him.  She couldn't run the risk of exploring her feelings.  Mistakes cost too much.

Closing her eyes, Abby murmured, "All you have to do is keep out of his way.  Daniel Hawthorn will be gone by this time next week, and life will return to normal." 

Downstairs, Sarah and Agnes looked at each other, as they heard the door of Abby's room shut.

"What do you think brought Daniel Hawthorn here?" Sarah Trenton asked.

Hamish looked up from the paper he was reading.  "He said he's been thinking of the store since Abby told him about it."

"I'll bet my grandmother's brooch, it's not only the store that brought him here," said Sarah Trenton thoughtfully.  "There's something between him and Abby.  She avoids looking at him, and he looks at her more than he wants to."

"I never noticed anything like that," said Hamish returning to his magazine. 

The two women smiled at each other in the way women have done all through the centuries.  There was work at hand.  Women's work.

CHAPTER THREE

Daniel looked up from the accounts ledger as Abby Silver entered the office, Wednesday.  He hadn't seen her for the last two days.  He knew she'd planned it that way.  The ledger had slowed him down and his suggestion of a computerized version of accounts had been laughed at.  The Busy Bee’s records had always been kept in this ledger that weighed a ton.

"Gran said you had a question about the accounting.  She also told me you've decided to stay on." Ice would have been warmer than Abby's tone.  "How can I help you?" 

Her voice trailed away as their gazes clashed.  Daniel watched the color flood her face. 

"I just wondered about this entry."

He turned the book towards her, ignoring the minute hesitation before she came forward. 

"Let me see."  The perfume of wildflowers that clung to her surrounded him.  She wore a denim skirt with a long sleeved red top.  Daniel had seen nuns dressed in less. 

He knew she had deliberately avoided him the last two days.  That she wanted to have as little to do with him as possible.

Beside him, Abby said, "We advanced Mrs. Olney eight hundred dollars so she could visit her granddaughter in Florida.  She has a brand new great grandson she wanted to see very badly."

"What did you make the loan against?"

Abby frowned, "Against?"

Daniel sighed, "A loan is usually made against some kind of collateral."

"Oh that!  Mrs. Olney crochets the most beautiful lace tablecloths.  She's going to repay her loan in kind."

"I see."  His first impression had been right.  This was a more-than-difficult situation.  "How old is Mrs. Olney?"

"Seventy nine.  That's why it was important that she go and see her great grandson right away."

That was also a good reason for not lending her the money.  Daniel looked at the pencil in his hand.  His next question was about the entry against afghan.  It said nine dozen eggs.  Daniel had a feeling it would be better for his peace of mind not to ask about that.

"What's wrong?"  Abby asked.

"I'm wondering how to turn The Busy Bee around given these circumstances."

"If you'd like to leave, we'll understand."

He looked at her profile.  Abby's theme song was beginning to wear a bit thin. 

"Why?"  Daniel released the impatience he'd kept such a strict hold on since Saturday.  "Because I make you feel uncomfortable?  What is it about me that makes you want to run and hide?"

Her mouth fell open and the color left her face.  The passing seconds were measured by the loud thumping of his heart.

"There you are."  They both looked at Sarah Trenton as she entered the office.  "I know you want to keep right on working, so I brought you your lunch."

"You shouldn't have bothered."  Daniel muttered, though it wasn't any use objecting.  Sarah paid very little attention to his protests. 

"Balanced, regular meals are important."

Daniel sighed.  Giving in took less time than arguing.  Besides he didn't want Abby accusing him of being rude to her grandmother again.

"Daniel's been cooped up in here the whole morning," Sarah told Abby.  "Why don't you take him with you to the Vista book sale this afternoon?  He needs to get out in the fresh air."

"That isn't the kind of thing Mr. Hawthorn likes to do," Abby said quickly. 

She looked at him and then away in that quick way she had. 

"What is Vista?"  He asked. 

"It's a retirement community," Abby said reluctantly.  "Some of the senior citizens are helping the library by organizing a book sale today.  You'll find it very dull."

Maybe this was his chance to get to know her better. 

"What time do we leave?" he asked.

The flash of panic in her green eyes was ridiculous.  Abby Silver had nothing to fear from him.

"At two," she tossed over her shoulder as she left the office.

"I'll let you get on with your lunch," Sarah placed the brown bag on the table.  "We still feel it would be better if you come up to the house and have something hot."

"This is fine, thank you," said Daniel quickly.

"Eat it right away," Sarah told him firmly.  "A young man needs to keep up his strength."

Daniel admitted he did need to keep up his strength.  Arguing with Abby Silver took everything he had.

Opening the bag, Daniel discovered there was no fork in the bag for the potato salad.  If he went into the community room to look for one and Agnes was in there, she would start talking.  It wouldn't be easy to get away.  Maybe one of the desk drawers would have a fork or a spoon.  He'd seen a plastic knife and a napkin in the top one yesterday.  Daniel decided to look.  The upper three drawers had nothing but old receipts and papers.  The last one stuck.  When he finally managed to open it, he realized it was filled with photographs.  Picking up the picture that had jammed the drawer, Daniel straightened it.

It was a wedding picture.  Abby's wedding picture.  There was a date on the back.  Daniel drew in a big breath, let it out slowly.  If she had been married five years ago, where was her husband?

"Gran thought you might like some salt and pepp...."

Abby's voice trailed away as she saw the photograph in his hand. 

"I was looking for a fork."  Daniel cursed himself.  He felt like a trespasser.  Abby's expression confirmed that feeling.

Something about Daniel's expression told Abby he had found one of the old pictures she hadn't got around to destroying.

She stretched her hand out, and Daniel handed the picture over.  Abby looked at it in a daze.  The smiling younger version of herself seemed like another person.  Someone who believed in dreams and happily-ever-after.  Rod looked like the prince she had believed she'd found.

"You're married."

"Was," Abby said, tearing the photograph into tiny pieces.  If only she could destroy her memories of the past the same way.  "He died in a motorcycle accident three years ago."

"I'm sorry."  It explained so much.

"It doesn't matter." 

She didn't want Daniel to see the tears.  Putting the salt and pepper shakers on the table, Abby left the office.  Once around the corner of the office, she leaned against the wall waiting for the pain to ease. 

In the beginning, it had all been so romantic.  Fresh out of college, she had met Rod at a friend's wedding, been swept off her feet by his smooth talk and charming ways.  Her pain and grief when she'd discovered her prince had feet of clay and a larger-than-life ego, had eaten at her all these years.  How could she have been such a gullible fool?

Abby raised her hands and brushed the tears away.  She had learned her lesson.  As Gran said, `Once bitten, twice shy.'

She would never let her heart influence any decisions she made.  Hopefully at twenty eight she was wiser and more sensible than she had been at twenty.

In the house Abby took a caramel custard out of the refrigerator.  Picking up a spoon she dug into the English dessert as scenes from the past returned.  Rod yelling at her, telling her he had married her for her money, that she was a bore.  Rod leaving her alone while he made all those `business' trips.

When her spoon came up empty Abby looked down at the bowl, and sighed.  Being worried cost her in calories she didn't need to consume.

A glance at her watch showed it was almost time to leave for the library.  Rinsing the bowl out, she picked up her purse and headed for the front door.  Abby caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror Gran had hung in the entryway.  Her face was the only part of her where her weight didn't show.  There was too much of the rest in her.  She didn't seem to be able to get rid of the thirty extra pounds that had crept up on her during her marriage to Rod. 

The sight of Daniel leaning against the old van brought Abby up short.  She wasn't concerned about spending the afternoon with him.  Once she got to the library, she would be so busy, she wouldn't have time to think.  What bothered her was the fifteen minute drive to Carbon Canyon and back.  She didn't like the thought of being in the confined space of the van with Daniel Hawthorn for that long.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Ready," he said.  "We could take my car if you want."

Abby looked at the van.  Rust spots, old tires, and rear doors that didn't close properly.  It wasn't in peak condition, but it was handy for transporting things.  Besides, riding in it would make Daniel Hawthorn think twice about going anywhere with her in future.

"We'll take the van.  I have books in it for the sale."

The front seat had springs no one ever forgot, once they sat on them.  Seeing Daniel wince and quickly shift his position, Abby bit back a smile.  It wouldn't hurt him to see how the other half of the world lived.

Music filled the van as she started it.  Jazz, Daniel noted with surprise, as Abby turned the volume down. 

"Carbon Canyon became a city in its own right two years ago," Abby pulled out of the drive.  "My grandfather bought land here in the thirties.  There was nothing but farms in this area at that time.  Gramps taught school in Los Angeles.  After he retired, he and Gran decided to build a house here and settle down.  Till I was sixteen, our nearest neighbor lived five miles away.  Now it seems that everywhere you look, there's a new development coming up.  Everything was all paid for till the store, then Gran took out a mortgage."

Filling Daniel Hawthorn in on the history of Carbon Canyon would prevent any awkward silences.  It would also ward off any questions about her marriage.

"It's a very beautiful place with an away-from-it-all atmosphere," he said.

"The valley makes a perfect setting," Abby agreed.  "Now people have started building on top of the canyon, for the view.  With the new developments springing up, the population of Carbon Canyon is expected to double in two years."

"That should be good for business.  I read that handmade articles are very much in demand now."

Abby glanced at him briefly.  Since when had Daniel become familiar with crafts, and the market for them?

"Agnes gave me a craft magazine to look through," Daniel explained.  "I have to know more about the business to be able to help.  Tell me, if you get a bulk order would you be able to fill it?"

"No," said Abby immediately.  "We wouldn't be able to supply any demands like that.  We stock one-of-a-kind items, made by folk who work at their own pace.  There's no way to commercialize what they do."

He'd guessed that.  The thought that he might contact big department stores in Los Angeles and ask them to consider ordering merchandise from The Busy Bee, faded.  As a business idea, it was a good one.  As far as The Busy Bee was concerned, it didn't work. 

He looked at Abby's hands on the wheel.  Her long tapering fingers were like her neck.  Slender and beautiful.  He remembered the slight roughness of her palms when he had introduced her to Princess.  She worked hard at everything she did. 

The sound of laughter had woken him at six this morning.  Going to his bedroom window, he'd seen Abby with Muffy and Princess in the yard.  She'd been throwing balls for the dogs to fetch.  He’d lingered liking her carefree expression, the way her hair framed her face.

Daniel recalled her expression when she'd seen him with the picture.  Bleak, cold, agonized.

He should never have opened that damned drawer.  She hadn't even heard his apology as she walked out of the office.

For a man who, until last week, had only had room for schedules and negotiations in his thoughts, Daniel now found his mind preoccupied with the enigma that was Abby Silver. 

As they pulled into the parking lot of the library, she turned to him.  Pointing to an area where folding tables were covered with books, she said, "I'll find you when it's time to leave.  I'm going to be working over there." 

"Right," said Daniel. 

Abby obviously didn't want him tagging along all afternoon.  Daniel didn't mind.  He'd fill in the time looking at books. 

He watched her stop and talk to people on her way to the table. It didn't surprise him she knew just about everybody there. 

Walking around the tables, Daniel heard himself being called.  "Mr. Hawthorn, how are you?"

"Agnes!"  He was glad to see a familiar face.  "Have you been here long?"

"Since this morning.  Would you like to come and sit with me?"

Daniel nodded, gladly accepting the invitation.  Sitting with Agnes McArthur, though she would talk non-stop, had its advantages.  Abby was at the next table. 

While Agnes sold books, Daniel watched Abby.  There was a man in a wheelchair beside her, who looked very frail.

"That's Jack Williams, the oldest resident at Vista," said Agnes, following his gaze.  "He had a stroke earlier this year.  Abby's very fond of him."

Daniel could see the way Abby's face softened as she said something to Mr. Williams.  Her laugh made something in his chest twist.

"I didn't know Abby is a widow."