It wasnt remotely a wild outfit, but for White Hills, the cut and fancy lines were always going to draw attention. More to the point, hed have known that glossy dark hair, that elegant little rump, anywhere.
He was halfway to the counter when she suddenly turned around. The instant she spotted him, the instant their eyes met, she froze. She was carrying a plate of cookies, and someone was talking to her from the kitchen-an open transom window led to the back room-but for a moment she just stood there, looking back at him.
Teague knew hurt pride could affect a guys imagination, yet he swore he saw a willful rose tint her cheeks, a sweep of yearning shine in her eyes. She looked just plain happy to see him-but anxious, too. Still she stood there. Still she didnt move, as if shed sucked in a sudden deep breath and just couldnt seem to let it out again.
By then both the sheriff and Harry glanced up. Its not as if anyone had a choice about being a stranger in White Hills.
Hey, Teague, Harry greeted him. Rare for you to stop in on an afternoon. You playing hooky?
Everybody deserves a vice, he said.
Hey, Teague.
Sheriff. He had no reason to know George Webster well, but it was the same with everyone there. They knew of him, or well enough to extend a greeting.
By the time hed shed his jacket and wasted those few seconds on hellos, Daisy had disappeared back into the kitchen-whether she had a good reason or just wanted to avoid him, he couldnt guess.
Either way, sitting down gave him a few minutes to analyze the situation. The more he looked around, the more he had the feeling that the Marble Bridge Café had turned into an alternate universe. Instead of smelling like old grease and burned food, scents wafted in the air that could make a guy throw himself on the ground and grovel-like the scent of fresh, warm bread. Blueberry muffins. Pastries. Cookies. Delicate, delectable stuff.
Maybe Harry owned the café and was given credit for feeding people, but he wouldnt know delectable if threatened with ptomaine.
But it was seeing Daisy-finding Daisy-that kept stunning Teague. She belonged in that café like a Monet belonged in a hardware store. Boots in Vermont meant, well, boots. But shed paired the blouse and snug black slacks with high-heeled boots so calf-hide soft they werent meant to ever walk in harsh weather. Silver glinted from her ears and wrist. A tiny towel had been slung around her waist, apparently auditioning as an apron, but she still looked elegant from the ground up.
Daisy? The towns infamous exotic flower and favorite wild girl, cooking in an aging café? Ms. Five-Hundred-Dollar-Boots Campbell, wearing an apron?
Cold out there, the sheriff said. It was Georges standard conversational opener. Since the town rarely needed law for much of anything, there was no reason George shouldnt hang out here, gaining weight on pastries and shooting the breeze and casting moony eyes at Daisy.
More to the point, he was usually good for information, so Teague tried pumping him. Well, its sure warm in here, with a crowd like this. I dont get it-Ive never seen this many people in the café since I came to live here. Whats going on?
Daisys French baking, thats whats going on. About a week ago, Harry let her wander into the kitchen, and ever since then shes been coming out with stuff nobody ever heard of. And before its gone, you better be asking for the lavender sponge cake. Trust me, youll never taste anything like it again. I forget what all else she came up with today. You could try the lavender-custard ice cream.
Lavender ice cream, Teague echoed.
I know, I know. Sounds like pansy food. In fact, thats what she says, that theres lavender in it. I swear, though, it doesnt taste like any sissy flower-
Someone tapped on the sheriffs shoulder, and when he got embroiled in that conversation, Harry hiked over from the cash register. What can I get you, Teague?
Ive barely got a minute, but I could sure use a fast coffee. And some He was going to ask for a piece of the lavender sponge cake, but he spotted the empty cake platter on the counter. Just coffee, he said.
Seconds later his hands were snugged around a mug of hair-curling coffee, but Daisy still hadnt shown back up. He could hear her voice in the distance-he assumed she was talking to Jason, Harrys brother and short-order cook-but she didnt come back.
He gulped the coffee, burned his throat, and gulped some more. His mind kept spilling out questions. All the evidence pointed to her working here, but that just seemed impossible. Harry didnt hire extras-the café didnt have enough business to justify more staff, especially in the slow month of January. And Teague couldnt fathom why shed seek any kind of job, much less a low-paying one, when the clothes she wore cost more than most of the cars parked outside. Besides which, he couldnt figure out what she was still doing here at all, when shed made such a point of telling him how much she hated small towns.
One other question hammered at his mind. The same tiny question that had been jamming his brain in the wee hours of every damn morning since he met her. If shed hung around White Hills these past couple of weeks, then why hadnt she given him a call? Why had she been avoiding him?
Harry twisted his considerable beer belly to engage him in more friendly conversation, but by then Teague had stood up, wrestled some change from his pocket and swung away from the counter. Obviously, he couldnt chase her down in front of all these people. He grabbed his jacket and aimed for the door, thinking that now he knew she was here, hed choose a free time, a quiet place, to corner her. Yet somewhere between the last table and the front door, his boots pivoted around. Instead of leaving, he found himself charging straight down the aisle, past the cash register, past the counter, past the saloon-style double doors that led to the kitchen area. Harry didnt stop him. The sheriff didnt stop him. Hell, nobody dared try to stop him.
He pushed the swinging doors so hard that one banged against the inside wall. Daisy! he yelled out.
Almost instantly, two heads showed up from around the corner of the freezer room. The small head with the exotic eyes and lush, soft mouth was definitely hers. The big one looked like a twin rendition of Harry-eyebrows bushier than weeds, a tummy that looked like a hot-air balloon, three sprouts of hair straight on top. Harrys brother disappeared back into the fog of the freezer room.
Daisy stepped out.
Teague wasnt sure what he wanted to say. Something like, Damn it, woman, Im not in the habit of having the best sex I ever had in my life and then having my lover disappear as if it never happened. Or Daisy, why didnt you let me know you were still in town? Or Daisy, for Gods sake, what are you doing in this café?
But somehow he sensed vulnerability in those soft, dark eyes. He knew he was crazy. Hed been crazy ever since he made love to her. Daisy was sophisticated and capable of handling herself in any situation-God knew hed seen her step up in the blizzard, even if she would hate the idea of being labeled resourceful and practical. The point, though, was that imagining vulnerability in her eyes was likely a sign of more lunacy in him, not of anything that was really there.
Still, something went wrong. He managed a scowl and a bellow, but what came out of his mouth was hardly confrontational. Daisy, do you know what a swatch is?
A swatch? she echoed in confusion.
Yeah. A swatch. Like a woman needs to do curtains or upholstery or something.
Oh, like a swatch of fabric?
I think so.
Well, sure, she said.
Thank God. Can you explain it to me at dinner?
Okay, she responded, as if shed never disappeared from his life and it was no big deal to go to dinner together.
Possibly he was a certifiable lunatic, but that didnt mean hed lost the ability to recognize hed gained ground. Seven oclock? he pressed.
Okay.
Where do you want me to pick you up?
How about if I meet you right outside the café here?
There. Hed got that settled. Before she could change her mind-and ignoring all the interested eyes in the restaurant-he charged right back down the aisle and this time, directly outside. The sudden spank of icy wind tried to slap some reality into him, but didnt seem to work. His head was still reeling. Had he imagined it? That wild night? That extraordinary coming together, the connection hed never felt with anyone else, the jolt of excitement just talking to each other? Was it some fantasy hed imagined in the stress of a blizzard? Because hed had no one for so long? Because hed stopped believing hed ever find a woman who bamboozled his common sense ever again?
Was Daisy real-or had being knocked out two weeks ago seriously addled his brain?
As if she werent already anxious-times-ten to be seeing Teague again, she was running late. To add insult to injury, she was just tugging on a cowl-necked sweater when her new cell phone beeped. Impatiently she grabbed it.
Finally, a feminine voice scolded. I got your voice mail about having a new phone number, but you didnt say where you are. Im gonna shoot you if you ever do this again!
Anxious or not anxious, Daisy had to chuckle. Her baby sister sounded so bossy. Camille had been through hell and back over the past couple years, losing her first love and almost losing herself in the aftermath. It had taken a long time-and the love of a terrific guy-to put that strident, bossy confidence back in her voice. Hey, I called Mom and Dad and you and Violet, to let everyone know my new phone number-
Finally, a feminine voice scolded. I got your voice mail about having a new phone number, but you didnt say where you are. Im gonna shoot you if you ever do this again!
Anxious or not anxious, Daisy had to chuckle. Her baby sister sounded so bossy. Camille had been through hell and back over the past couple years, losing her first love and almost losing herself in the aftermath. It had taken a long time-and the love of a terrific guy-to put that strident, bossy confidence back in her voice. Hey, I called Mom and Dad and you and Violet, to let everyone know my new phone number-
But all you did was leave messages, so no one actually had a chance to talk to you! Nobody still knows where you are!