Page 3 of Love on Target

“I’ll walk with you.” The woman looped her arm around Rena’s. “My husband was going to pick up some pastries for our breakfast and meet me at my shop. I’m Maggie MacGregor.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. MacGregor. I’m Rena Burke. You own a business in town?” Rena asked, taken aback by the notion of such a lovely woman managing a business.

“I own and manage the dress shop here in town. It brings me great satisfaction to create gowns that people seem to love wearing. I also sell ready-made clothing as well as hats, stockings, gloves, and some attire for children.”

Rena glanced down at her dusty trousers, a shirt that had been clean a week ago, and the baggy jacket that had once belonged to her father. It was a wonder Mrs. MacGregor hadn’t taken one look at her and hastened in the other direction.

“Are you traveling, Miss Burke?”

Rena nodded, trying not to gawk as they strolled down a street that was brimming with early morning activity. A man in a duster with a bronze star pinned to the front waved and touched his fingers to the brim of his hat from across the street as he spoke with two cowboys.

“That’s Tully Barrett, the sheriff. We’ve been friends for what seems like forever.” Mrs. MacGregor returned his wave, then gestured toward a park. “Will you be in town long? Our park is quite glorious when all the trees and flowers are in bloom.”

“I plan to leave in about an hour,” Rena said, standing on a corner waiting for two wagons to pass. “What does your husband do, Mrs. MacGregor?”

“Ian owns the lumberyard. It’s a constant battle to keep sawdust out of the carpets,” she said with a laugh, then playfully bumped her shoulder against Rena’s arm. “Please, call me Maggie.”

“I’ll do that if you call me Rena.”

Maggie smiled at her again. “Where are you from and what direction are you heading?”

“I’m from Amarillo, Texas, and I’m heading up to Holiday to see my cousin. He bought some land up there last year. Theo offered to let me stay with him awhile, so here I am.”

“Gracious! Did you travel all that way alone?” Maggie questioned as they crossed the street and moved into the line that stretched outside the bakery door.

“I had my mule with me. He’s the closest thing I have to a friend.”

Maggie frowned. “Well, now you have two. Anytime you come to Baker City, I hope you’ll stop by my shop. It’s right on the main street that runs through town, not far from the hotel.”

Rena couldn’t envision herself in a dress shop, but she nodded to be polite. “I’ll do that, Maggie. Thank you for the invitation and the offer of friendship.”

“Of course.” Maggie leaned around the people in front of them and motioned to someone near the front of the line, held up three fingers and pointed to Rena, then tugged her out of line.

“Ian will get enough for all three of us. Let’s go sit on a bench across the street. The one right there by the maple tree is the best spot to soak up the morning light.”

Without waiting for Rena’s reply, Maggie glided across the street and gracefully settled her skirts around her as she took a seat on a wooden bench.

Rena felt like a filthy pauper next to Maggie, but before she could think of a reason to excuse herself, a handsome man with blond hair and lively blue eyes strode across the street, holding a box in one hand and three cups of something hot that steamed in the crisp morning air in the other.

“Well, hello,” he said with the faintest hint of a brogue as he greeted her with a broad smile. “I see my Maggie has coerced you into eating breakfast with us. I’m Ian.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. MacGregor,” Rena said, standing as he set the box beside Maggie, handed his wife one of the cups, then kissed her cheek.

He handed Rena a cup, then politely bowed his head to her. “Call me Ian. And you are?”

“Rena. Rena Burke. I’m just passing through town and left my mule with Mr. Owens at the livery while I got a little something to eat. As soon as we’ve both had breakfast, we’ll be on our way.”

“To Holiday,” Maggie said, lifting a plate with a large bun from the box and handing it to Rena. “There are some lovely, lovely people who live there. If you meet the Coleman or Milton families, please give them my regards.”

“I’ll do that,” Rena said, accepting the plate from Maggie.

Ian motioned for her to take a seat on the bench as he lifted a plate holding a huge cinnamon bun from the box, then propped one booted foot on the bench by Maggie.

Rena settled on the bench and took a tentative sip from the cup that warmed her chilled hands. The coffee was even better than the pot Mr. Miller had made. She took another sip before she set the cup on the bench beside her and lifted her fork. Maggie and Ian bowed their heads, and Ian asked a brief blessing on their meal.

Out of long-ingrained habit, Rena bowed her head and said, “amen.” She hadn’t prayed in two years, but today wasn’t the day to examine the reasons why.

Instead, she forked a bite of the cinnamon bun still warm from the oven with gooey icing dripping off the sides. She closed her eyes to better enjoy her second bite.

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