Chapter Four
Ellie
I climbed into my truck and sat there for a minute, trying to let my heart calm down, because wow, was Ryder hot!
No, wait.
Ryder Thomas, the owner of The Bookstore, was so much more than just a hot guy. He was sweet, funny, and considerate. Wonderful father, good friend, and holy crap… smoking hot.
Sure, I had only had two encounters with him, but he was everything I was looking for.
Sigh.
Too bad he wasn’t available.
I still hadn’t seen a wife. But he had two girls, so there must be one somewhere. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen a ring on his finger, either. I guess he could have gotten divorced. Or widowed. Maybe he never married.
I wondered if he was raising his daughters alone.
And the girls?
Oh my, they were adorable.
I have never had someone trust me so quickly the way they did. For his little one, Tabby, to throw herself into my arms. She didn’t know me. And Chrissy, the older one. Why didn’t she call for her dad? Why did she just accept that Tabby was safe with me?
Wait.
Had I misjudged the whole situation?
Was Ryder Thomas not the loving dad he appeared to be?
Was that their way of reaching out? Asking for help?
I started my truck and pulled away from the curb. I needed to go back to my trailer and change. Then, I would wander around town some more and see if I could learn about this family.
I needed to be careful. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, but if those girls were in trouble, I would do whatever was necessary to help.
I had just returned to town after changing out of my suit, when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number but took a chance and answered it, anyway.
Thinking about the girls had me distracted.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Miss Livingston?” the voice asked.
“I’m sorry, you have the wrong number,” I stated confidently.
I wasn’t confident at all. I had mastered the art of faking it, though. I learned that from my parents.
Inside, I was freaking out.
No one should be able to connect that number to me.
“This isn’t Ellery Livingston?” the voice asked.
“No, I’m sorry. As I have already said, you have the wrong number.”
“Who am I speaking with?”
“Sir, I am not giving you that information. I am not the person you are looking for.”
I cut the call and quickly blocked the number. I refused to think about the phone call right now. I knew it was serious, but the safety of those little girls was more important than worrying about my parents finding me.
With that in mind, I stopped by The Bake Shoppe.
Parking my truck, I got out and walked to the front door, opened it, then stepped inside. The aroma of all the sugary sweetness consumed me immediately.
“Oh goodness, have I died and gone to heaven?”
The woman behind the counter chuckled.
“It smells like heaven, doesn’t it? My name is Trudy. What can I do for you?”
Trudy was an older woman, maybe late sixties or early seventies. She had gray streaked through her hair in a way that, if it was natural, would make a hairstylist swoon.
“Hi, Trudy, this is my first time here. What do you recommend?” I asked. I found the best way to get someone talking was to build up their ego. Some might think I was being disingenuous, but I actually was curious about what her favorites were.
“Oh gosh, I don’t know that I could choose a favorite. The cinnamon rolls are flaky. The bagels I’ve been told rival those in New Jersey. The cupcakes are moist, and the cookies melt in your mouth,” she listed off. “I could go on and on.”
“You know, I think I will take a cinnamon roll and a coffee to have while I’m here. And one of everything to take home,” I decided.
Her eyes turned to saucers, and her mouth dropped open.
“Are you sure? That’s a lot for a little thing like you,” she said, moving to the side, grabbing a box to fill with my goodies.
“Yes, I am staying at the campground, so I don’t do a lot of baking in my trailer. This will cover me for a few days. Especially once my friend gets here.” I laughed.
It was true.
She didn’t have to know I couldn’t bake without the risk of burning the place down.
“I wondered if you were new. I don’t recognize you,” she admitted as she filled three boxes with yummy goodness I would binge on later.
“Do you know everyone in town?” I joked.
“I do.” She smiled confidently. “I have lived here all of my seventy-two years. And there isn’t a person living in this town that I don’t know by name.”
“Wow. How long have you owned the bakery?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t own this. My granddaughter Pati does. I just work the counter for her so she can do all the magic in the kitchen.”
“Well, you must have taught her everything she knows, right?”
Trudy laughed loudly at my question.
“No, ma’am. I can cook a mean pot roast, and I won the chili cookoff ten years in a row. They had to ask me to stop entering to give someone else a chance.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, like she was sharing a secret. “But I can’t bake. She inherited that gene from her daddy’s side of the family.”
She handed me my cinnamon roll and coffee, poured a second coffee and grabbed another cinnamon roll, then came out from behind the counter.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked.
“Not at all,” I said with a smile.
This was working out better than I could have expected. She followed me over to a small café table by the window.
“So…” She waited.
“Ellie,” I finished for her.
“So, Ellie. What brings you to our little town?” she asked, taking a sip of her coffee.
“Well, to be honest, Trudy. I am looking for a place to settle down.”
“Really? You’re so young. Don’t most girls your age want to see the world before settling down these days?”
“Probably, but I grew up in New York. You can see most of the world right in Manhattan. No, I want to settle down in a small town, get married, and raise some babies. Live a quiet life, you know?”
“Well, Diamond Creek is the best spot for that.” She frowned. “Well, until recently anyway.”
“What happened recently?”
“You see, about five years ago, a motorcycle club moved into town.” The look on my face must have concerned her, as she quickly added, “Now, don’t let me dissuade you. Those boys are wonderful. And handsome. Girl, if I was fifty years younger, I wouldn’t get myself a bike to ride, but I would get myself a biker to ride.”
She laughed and slapped her hand on the table.
Trudy was a character alright, and she was definitely going in a book somewhere.
“Anyway, those boys are terrific. They don’t cause trouble, but it seems to find them.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, eager to get the lowdown.
“Well, I need to start back, about ten years ago. We had a nice boy in town whose father wasn’t on the up and up. Of course, that was all conjecture until we learned the truth.”
Trudy had my rapt attention. She told me all about the boy who died, and his best friend who never recovered from his death, only to move away and come back years later and find him alive and well as part of the MC. Then, she explained the crazy circumstances of the girl finding out the sheriff, who was from Arkansas like the MC, was her father. She told me about the girl’s mother who attacked her, only to be shot by said sheriff.
“Wow, that is quite a story. What about the boy and girl now?”
“Oh, they worked everything out. They are living together in the house Willow left her.”
“Willow?” I asked, finishing the last of my cinnamon roll.
Which was to die for, by the way.
“Willow was a good friend of mine. She passed on earlier this year. She was Rebecca’s grandmother.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said, reaching out and placing my hand over hers.
“Well, when you get to my age, you start losing your friends. You know it can happen, but it still hurts.”
“So far, everything I have seen of the town is just what I’m looking for. I saw the two cutest little girls the other day at the diner. I think they were with their babysitter. She looked far too young to have girls their age.”
“Oh yes, that would be Chrissy and Tabby,” Trudy whispered softly. “Shame about their mom. Their dad was always such a good boy.”
“What happened to their mom, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“She up and left,” she said, shaking her head.
“She left those two little sweet girls?”
What would possess someone to leave their children? My parents weren’t the best. They were neglectful, always pushing us off on the nannies. But at least they were there. They provided for us.
“Two years ago, she decided she didn’t want to be a wife and mom anymore. Just took right off, leaving those girls to be raised by their daddy,” she informed.
“What about the dad? What is he like? I couldn’t imagine leaving my children. Especially with someone I had to run from.”
I leaned back in my chair. At this point, I didn’t really believe a mom would leave her children with a man she was afraid of, but what did I know? My own mother wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice me for her own gain. There was just something about the way the girls were with me. I needed answers.
“Ryder? Oh, he is the best. He dotes on those girls. She didn’t run from him so much as she ran from everything here. Tammi” —Trudy shook her head again— “she was an entitled little bitch, if you’ll excuse my language. Ryder was always too good for the likes of her. Best thing she ever did for those girls was to leave them to be raised by him.”
A few people entered the shop, and Trudy got up to serve them as I sat there thinking about everything she had told me. She hadn’t completely convinced me he was the good man she believed him to be, but she certainly was persuasive.
I would need to make a few more visits to The Bookstore before I decided.
After saying goodbye to Trudy, I left The Bake Shoppe with my boxes in hand. Loading them into my truck, I turned and headed for The Hardware Store and noticed that the names of businesses were a bit, let’s say, uncreative.
Jessie would love this place. She never understood the need for naming businesses something that left you wondering what it was about. In her mind, The Hardware Store would be exactly right, so you would know what you were getting before you walked in the door.
I browsed up and down the aisles. Looking for something to buy. I wanted to support every business I checked out. Especially if this was a town I was considering settling down in. I wanted it to thrive.
“You need some help, girly?”
I turned and found a withered old man. He had wrinkled skin, but he stood straight. His shoulders didn’t hunch over, which was impressive because he had to be at least six feet tall. His hair was gray and thinning at the top.
“No, sir. Just looking around,” I told him.
Frowning, he snapped, “You ain’t from here.”
“No, sir. Just visiting.”
“Where you from?”
“Pops! Leave the girl alone.”
The man connected to that voice walked around the corner, and I wasn’t proud of myself, but I stared at him with my mouth hung open.
I think I might have even drooled a bit.
He was drop dead gorgeous. He was the mold used to create book boyfriends. He stood at least six foot four. Dark wavy hair that was cut short on the side and longer on the top. His dark green eyes felt like they had reached into my soul. I could tell he was too old for me. I would guess him to be almost forty, but man alive, that man had to be a God.
“Hi,” I whispered.
I hadn’t planned on embarrassing myself today, but ‘Hi’ was all I could muster as I stared at the man.
He smiled at me and said, “Hello. Sorry about the old man.”
I shook my head. “No problem. I’m just looking around, seeing if there is anything I needed before I head back to the campground.”
“Look as much as you like,” he said with a wink, then turned and walked away.
Oh, he was definitely going into a book.
I left the store empty-handed. I climbed into my truck and drove back to the campground so I could write about my new inspiration while he was fresh in my mind.