Page 13 of Dangerous December
Eighteen minutes.
Beth thought longingly of the raspberry scones and hot chocolate that she’d savor upstairs in less than an hour. After today, she needed that and a good hot bubble bath, too.
Nearly two-dozen three-year-olds had run amok in the store during the morning—ostensibly for story time, though they were new to the preschool experience and none landed in one spot long enough to hear more than a few consecutive words.
As soon as they left, both Beth and Janet had flopped onto the red velvet sofa in the History section and burst into laughter.
The afternoon had been quieter, with the garden club ladies using the meeting area to discuss the town square gardens for next year.
And there’d been her talk with Dev.
Even now, her midsection felt jittery and unsettled, though she was pretty sure she’d carried off her visit with an air of calm detachment that had conveyed none of her true emotions.
Lord, I hope You’ll help me through the next six months, because it isn’t going to be easy.
She eyed the clock again. Fifteen minutes to go. Good enough.
Her step lighter, she made one more sweep of the store, checking the windows and back door, then ended up at the front register where she began counting out the cash drawer.
The jangle of the bells over the front door startled her. She spun in that direction. Her mouth fell open at the rainbow apparition standing just inside.“Mom?”
“Sugar!” Metal bracelets clanging and overlarge hoop earrings flashing, Maura Carrigan swept forward in a flurry of multiple layers of fuchsia and peridot scarves and shawls over some sort of canary, gauzy muumuu underneath.
Blond this time, her hair caught up in a twist with strands flying about her face, she was as colorful as a one-woman carnival.
Beth accepted her mother’s fierce hug and hugged her in return. “You look...wonderful.”
Maura grimaced. “Not really, after all those days on the road. But color always perks me right up.” She held Beth’s shoulders and took a step back to survey her from head to toe. “Mygoodness,but you’re thin.”
“Not thin. Ten pounds too high according to the charts.”
“Thin,” Maura retorted. “And so...sostaid.It’s a good thing I’m here.”
Amused, Beth looked down. “A long denim skirt and cranberry sweater aren’t exactly staid. I think I’m actually sort of Midwestern hip.”
“Well, we’re going to see what we can do about that, hon.”
At Maura’s calculating appraisal, Beth quelled the urge to roll her eyes. Her mother had embraced the flower child era with gusto, and at sixty, she had yet to let it go.
“I’m nearly done down here, Mom. As soon as I close, we can go upstairs. I’ve got the guest room ready. It’s small, but you’ll be comfortable while you’re here.”
“It’s a lovely room, as I remember. Now, don’t mind me. I’ll just wander around the store for a while and let you finish up.”
Beth watched her stroll away, the initial bounce in her step fading. Was that a weary droop to her shoulders? DespiteMaura’s trademark ebullience upon arrival, there’d also been something else—a trace of worry, maybe. Or stress.
Two emotions she’d always said she wouldn’t waste a nickel on, which made them of concern now. Was it just the long trip, or was something else going on?
Frowning, Beth finished checking her totals and filled out a deposit slip.
A minute later, the door jangled again...probably Maura heading out to get her luggage, Beth thought as she dropped the cash, checks, and bank slip into an Agate Creek Savings & Loan night-deposit bag.
“You’re closing up already? Guess I got here too late.”
At the all-too familiar deep rumble of his voice, Beth looked up in shock. “D-Dev?”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said, and you’re right on all counts.” He approached the front counter with the newest Lee Child hardback in his hand, his eyes troubled. He dropped a couple of twenties on the counter. “This situation isn’t going to be easy for either of us, but we’ll manage. I want to apologize for being rude, and thank you for being willing to try.”
She glanced over her shoulder, then rang up the purchase and handed back his change, hoping he wouldn’t linger. “Maybe we can discuss this tomorrow morning—”
