Searching for a Valentine (Valentine’s Sweethearts)

1. Brianna

Chapter one

Brianna

O f all the ways Brianna Cunningham pictured her arrival into Cantrell, choking on the diesel fumes from a rickety old bus was not one of them. She stumbled away from the rear of the bus, coughing furiously to try and clear the sour taste, before smiling wanly at the other passengers who were picking up their bags from the sidewalk. Hopefully they all had short memories—there was too much riding on her fresh start for people to remember her as the ditzy girl who inadvertently stood right next to the bus exhaust.

After catching her breath and finding her bag, she joined the line of people inside the nearby Bellbird Cafe. Old Brianna would have researched the cafe before arriving, and if there were too many one- or two-star reviews she wouldn’t have set foot on the premises at all. But New Brianna wasn’t letting her anxiety win—if the people of Cantrell were lining up here for coffee at 10 a.m. on the first Tuesday in January, that was good enough for her.

Startled by a cleared throat from behind her, Brianna looked up to find she was at the front of the line.

“You look like you need a good strong coffee, love—should I make it a large?” She looked at the older woman behind the counter and felt the familiar prickle of tears behind her eyes.

Not again—I’ve already cried enough over the last six months.

“Yesgg—” She cleared her throat and tried again, stronger this time. “Yes please, and with a caramel shot as well?”

“Consider it done, love. Go take a seat, and we’ll have it out to you shortly.”

“Umm… don’t I need to pay?” Brianna might not have been one hundred percent aware of her surroundings while waiting in line, but she was sure the customers ahead of her in line had definitely paid before they sat down.

“Plenty of time for that later, dear. There’s a nice table free by the windows there—you should take it before someone else does.”

Stumped by the woman’s kindness, Brianna put her purse back in her bag and made her way across the room to where the winter sunlight was doing its best to shine through the windows. As she waited for her coffee to arrive, she pulled out the letter her grandmother’s lawyer had given her. The paper was soft and creased through frequent handling, and slightly sticky from the Valentine’s Day candies her Nana adored. She smiled to herself at the memory of the very formal lawyer gingerly handing over the envelope containing the letter and candies, as if a colony of ants might arrive in the office en masse.

Her eyes fell to the final paragraph, even though she had the words memorized.

I’ve known you your whole life, sweetheart. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that smile of yours growing dimmer with every year you spent working for that awful woman. Do you remember when I’d take you to visit my friend Maeve in the mountains? She had a shop in a small town there, and you would spend hours standing behind the counter, delighting all the customers with your plastic cash register. You seemed so happy back there, back then. Maeve passed on a few years ago, and I’ve lost touch with her family since then. But if you would do one last thing for me, it’s this—go back to Cantrell, and see if there’s still something there for you. It might do you a world of good.

With all my love,

Nana.

The sound of a ceramic mug landing on the table bumped her back to the present. Her coffee was followed by a cinnamon roll with icing running down the sides.

“I didn’t order—”

“I know you didn’t,” came a deep voice from above her head. Possibly Scottish, Brianna thought. She turned to find piercing blue eyes above a pale scar that ran down one side of his face. Even if the tanned face hadn’t clued her in, his tattered down jacket marked him as someone who was clearly at home in the outdoors. “My sister’s mother-in-law runs this place, and she thinks a strong coffee and a cinnamon roll can fix anything. To be fair, she’s not often wrong.”

“But why me?” She looked down at her hoodie, noticing for the first time the holes starting to form at the cuffs. Perhaps Cantrell had become so gentrified in the last twenty-five years that a hole in your cuff was one step above homelessness? Or maybe the bus fumes still lingered, making people think she couldn’t afford a coffee?

Suddenly aware she was ruminating—something New Brianna wouldn’t do—she looked up in time to see the man shrug nonchalantly.

“Claire likes to pay it forward.” He smiled and held out his hand. “I’m Rhys.”

She blushed at the name, and her brain started a five-alarm meltdown imagining that he really was one of her favorite book characters seemingly come to life and standing in front of her. “I’m, uhh… Brianna.”

His large hand engulfed hers, and she wasn’t surprised to feel well-worn callouses. None of the men Old Brianna dated in the city would have dared have callouses, or worn down jackets patched together with duct tape, but Rhys looked entirely at home here in the mountains.

“Welcome to Cantrell, Brianna.” He rolled the r in her name slightly, and Brianna knew she would never forget how it sounded coming from him. “Are you here for long, or just passing through?”

“I’m, uhhh… not quite sure yet.” Nana’s letter had brought her here, but a lot of things had to work in her favor if she was going to put down roots in Cantrell.

“Well, perhaps the food alone will make you stay. Best cinnamon rolls I’ve ever had.”

He winked before walking away, and her brain glitched once again. Tall, dark, and handsome; and a distraction she didn’t need. He probably said the same line about cinnamon rolls to every eligible female who walked through the door.

Brianna devoured the cinnamon roll—Rhys was right, it was amazing—then sat with both hands wrapped around her coffee mug, taking in the last remnants of warmth from her rapidly cooling coffee. While a small fireplace did its best to heat the room, it was no match for the cold blast of air that entered the room with each arriving or departing patron. Finally deciding it was time to change out of her tights and into jeans, a pile of woolen blankets near the counter caught her eye.

Leaving her coffee behind, she approached the counter where Rhys was drying off coffee mugs and talking to the older woman from earlier—presumably the generous Claire— who was wiping the countertop.

“What’s the deal with the store next door?” He nodded to the wall on Brianna’s right, which made his slightly-too-long hair fall into his eyes. “They’ve had the paper across the windows for months now saying they’re opening in time for Valentine’s Day in five weeks, but I’d have thought they’d need to start getting the space built out, if that was going to happen.”

“It was supposed to be a bakery, specializing in cupcakes,” Claire replied, raising her voice to be heard above the faucet where she was washing out the cleaning rag. “But they’ve gone out of business before they even started the fit-out. Apparently, the cupcake market wasn’t as strong as they thought.”

Brianna’s head spun as she took one of the folded blankets and headed back towards her table. On one hand, it couldn’t be a coincidence that Nana’s letter had brought her back to the town from her childhood that might just have a vacant store in need of a tenant. At the same time, her anxious-banshee brain could think of two hundred and eighty-seven reasons why starting a niche business in a small mountain town was a bad idea.

Her now-cold coffee forgotten, she reached into her backpack and pulled out a leather-bound notebook. It had been her constant companion in the years she spent working for one of the largest book retailers in the city. What started out as short notes about good bookshop business practices had morphed into a full business plan for a romance-specific bookshop.

Brianna’s former boss, Katerina, would have hunted her down if she’d known what was in the notebook. Katerina had made it her life’s goal to find struggling, independently-owned bookstores and convince them to sell for a rock-bottom price. Once the store was hers, she would turn it into a bargain basement bookstore, ripping out its heart and soul in the process. Even worse, if there was a man involved with the store, she would make a pass at him before dropping him like a hot potato, leaving a trail of despondent owners and broken relationships owners behind her.

Brianna had worked as Katerina’s assistant for four years, keeping silent from fear of losing the only job she’d ever had. That all changed after Nana died and Brianna came into possession of a modest inheritance. The day the funds hit her account, she’d given her two weeks’ notice—or tried to, before Katerina had security escort her from the building.

Her colleagues didn’t want to know her, and her friends had changed when they found she’d come into money. At least she had the means to find out who she really was—and while she missed Nana immensely, she couldn’t think of a better place to start over than in the town she’d enjoyed so much as a child.

Brianna stood up and stretched, only to realize that the quiet hum of the cafe had dropped to almost nothing, and half the day had disappeared while she was immersed in her planning. Embarrassed about how long she’d spent at the table, she made her way to the front counter where Claire was counting cash at the till.

Claire looked up at her and smiled. “That must have been a good book!”

“It was, thanks.” Brianna fidgeted with the zip on her bag, wondering how to broach the idea of the store next door.

Before she could say anything, Claire spoke again. “Are you all sorted for a place to stay tonight?”

“Not yet, but I can definitely pay for a bed, and the coffee. I was about to look online—”

“Before you start scrolling, there’s an apartment above the store next door that’s currently vacant. You’re welcome to stay, if you don’t mind having to make the bed yourself.”

“Are you sure the owner wouldn’t mind?” she asked, her heart lifting. Perhaps this was her way to find out who the owner was, and have a conversation about taking over the lease from the ill-fated cupcake store.

“Well, the owner just invited you, so I’d say it’s okay.”

Brianna knew she shouldn’t get her hopes up this early in the process, but what were the odds of the cafe owner also having the store next door? “That would be great,” she said hesitantly. “But let me know if you need me to vacate it for someone else, please. I don’t want to be a burden—and I really would like to pay for the coffee and food.”

“How about you pop in tomorrow and we’ll sort out the payment then? I’ve already closed up the till.”

Brianna nodded, the tears threatening yet again. If everything went to plan, and if she didn’t drop dead from exhaustion, she could have her bookshop open in Cantrell by Valentine’s Day—just six short weeks away. Then it was simply a case of hoping her old boss didn’t catch wind of what she was up to, and decide to pay her a visit.