3
By early evening the food truck was sold out of everything. Harper’s back ached, her ankles were swollen, and she was exhausted. But the cash drawer was full, and all things considered, it had been a good day.
After she and Finley scraped and cleaned the grill and the chafing dishes and sanitized the equipment and the front counter, she tucked the cash bag into her purse and locked up the food truck. She’d come back for it tomorrow when the crowds were gone.
The tangy-sweet aroma of warm bread and tomato sauce from the pizza truck next door made her stomach growl. Her appetite had gone from nonexistent to ferocious since she’d entered her second trimester, and she’d barely had time to eat all day. One of Madame Gigi’s oversized pizza slices would be heavenly. She took her place in line and when she finally reached the counter, she impulsively ordered two pepperoni slices. Juggling her cup of ice water and her heaping plate of pizza as she stuffed her change into her purse, she turned and walked straight into the path of Dalton King. As the cup tipped sideways the lid came loose and water soaked the front of his T-shirt.
“Whoa.” He grabbed her, gently clasping her arms to avoid a collision, and she felt the strange twirling sensation in her tummy again. As busy as the food truck had been that day, she hadn’t had a chance to collect her thoughts or to prepare what to say to him. The truth was she’d hoped to avoid him at the festival today, and yet here she was, held hostage by those incredible brown eyes.
“Dalton. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
His glance skimmed across her plate of pizza and traveled to the cantaloupe-sized bump beneath her T-shirt before his hands slid from her arms. “It’s all good. Actually, I was hoping to run into you today. Just not literally.”
With a nod, she indicated the nearby picnic tables. “I should set these things down before I do any more damage.”
“Let me help you.” He carried the overflowing plate to an empty table, shoved aside a pile of dirty cups and napkins, and set it down. “Mind if I join you?”
“Oh…well…” She wasn’t at all prepared, but she might as well get it over with. “Sure. Would you like one of my slices? I don’t know what I was thinking, ordering so much.”
“I don’t want to take yours. Looks as though you’re eating for two.”
The comment left her speechless. She’d gotten used to people politely ignoring the pregnancy. But he was an outsider and didn’t know better.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s all right. Yes, I am eating for two. I am not, however, eating for six.”
He smiled. Her heart fluttered as if she was fourteen and not twenty-four. As if she was young and carefree and not seventeen weeks pregnant. “I won’t eat them both, and they’re never very good reheated. They’re not even always that good fresh. You’d be doing me a favor.”
He hesitated. “I’ll just go and grab something to drink then. Be right back.”
He returned moments later with a cup of ice water, and she slid the plate of pizza toward him. He took a slice and folded it in half. A stream of grease puddled onto the plate. He took a bite and winced. “Wow. Madame Gigi has a lot to learn about making pizza,” he said.
“Actually, Gigi passed away last December. Her grandson, Dominick, took over the food truck after she died to keep it in the family. I guess he hasn’t quite learned the ins and outs of it yet.”
“I guess not.” He washed down the pizza with a swallow of water. “Sounds like you know them pretty well.”
“This is Redford’s Crossing. Everyone knows everyone here.”
“Interesting. Have you always lived here, then?”
“My whole life.” She bit into her slice of pizza, chewed thoughtfully, and took a swallow of water. “Most kids graduate and move away, on to bigger and better. I never wanted to live anywhere else.”
“There’s a lot to be said for a slower pace, a quiet life. Sometimes you need that.” He took a swallow from his cup, then rolled the straw between his fingers. “Your aunt offered me the job this morning, after you left.”
“About that. My brother, Nicky, will do it, but thanks anyway.”
“The price I quoted her is more than fair.”
“It’s not about that.”
“What is it about?”
His gaze was too intense for her, and she looked away. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that Aunt Clara isn’t exactly…”
“Yeah.”
“She doesn’t always make the best choices anymore.”
“I’m a bad choice?” His expression betrayed amusement. “I’m not a serial killer, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She met his gaze. “Who are you then?”
“I’m just a guy trying to figure some things out. If I can help someone out in the process, so much the better. What else do you want to know?”
It surprised her, how much she suddenly wanted to know about this man, and not just for the sake of Aunt Clara’s safety. But those were foolish thoughts and she firmly pushed them away.
“For starters, where are you from?” she asked.
He hesitated a beat. “Up north.”
“North. As in Canada?”
“As in Cleveland, originally. But I’ve been moving around for a while.”
“Trying to figure some things out.”
“Right.”
“And you’re tired of the carnival life?”
“It’s not for me. Too much noise. As I said, sometimes a person needs a slower pace, peace and quiet.”
She sighed. “How long do you think the job would take?”
He shrugged. “Couple of days. So, am I hired?”
Any way you looked at it, it was a mistake. Beneath his easy smile, she sensed something deeply wounded in Dalton King, something that resonated deep in her own soul. But it wasn’t her job to heal him. She had a few things to figure out herself and he would only be a distraction. A quick and easy brush-off would be the best solution.
“I really think it would be best if we just had my brother?”
“Harper, dear! There you are!” Clara walked toward them, wearing her favorite lavender pantsuit and a pair of white tennis shoes, her hand clutching Nicky’s bicep.
“Hey,” Harper greeted them. “What are you two doing here?”
“Aunt Clara wants to ride the Ferris wheel,” Nicky said.
“It might be my last chance,” Clara said wistfully.
“I wish you wouldn’t say things like that, Aunt Clara.”
“That’s what I keep telling her.” Nicky dropped his arm around Clara’s shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “You’ll live to be a hundred and sixty-three, just you watch.”
Clara looked at Dalton. “I couldn’t let the festival end without taking the kids for a ride on the Ferris wheel. We’ve done it every year for as long as I can remember. It’s a tradition. Would you like to join us?”
“I’m sure Dalton has to get back to work,” Harper said quickly.
“Actually, I have an hour free.”
“How lovely! Then you and Harper can ride together, and Nicholas, you can ride with me.”
As she and Dalton fell into step behind Clara and Nicky, Harper’s plan to send him away broke free, like a horse with the barn door thrown wide open, and all one could do was watch helplessly as it galloped away.
~*~
When an empty car stopped in front of them, Dalton nodded to Danny, the operator, and he and Harper climbed in. As they made their slow climb to the top, the town stretched out beneath them. He could see the five tidy blocks that made up Main Street, bordered by houses with shady trees and tall white churches. It reminded him of the villages in the train layouts his father had built in his train room, a respite from the madness of the city and his high-pressure job. Dalton was not allowed to play with them, or even touch the whimsical world of old-time ice cream shops and movie houses that Gordon lost himself in on Sunday afternoons. Those incongruous flights of fancy birthed from the mind of his cold, calculating father were off limits.
He couldn’t imagine living in a place like this all his life. Was it all as simple and idealistic as it appeared? He found himself wanting to know more about this small Appalachian town, this life, this girl beside him. His first attempts at conversation went nowhere. She was locked up as tightly as her food truck, so he sat quietly, biding his time.
“It makes me so nervous when he does that,” Harper finally said, gesturing to the seat below them, where Nicky raucously rocked the car while Clara giggled like a small child. “I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t ride with him.”
He chuckled. “Your aunt looks as if she’s living her best life.”
Harper smiled. “Yes, she does.”
“You and Nicky seem close.”
“We are. Mostly.” She sighed. “It’s complicated.”
He gazed at her intently. Everything about this girl seemed complicated, and yet, so simple. “How so?”
“I helped raise him. I’m kind of a mother/sister figure. Most of the time he’s torn between wanting to be my best friend and hating my guts.”
“And where does Clara fit in?”
“Clara is my father’s aunt,” she explained. “She’s always been a bit of a character. She was a pastry chef, before.”
He studied her face, genuinely interested. “Before what?”
“My mother died in childbirth with Nicky. I was seven years old.”
“Wow. I didn’t think that even happened anymore.”
“Amniotic fluid embolism. The chances are twelve in one hundred thousand.”
He whistled softly.
She sighed. “My father could never seem to get past it, could never seem to accept Nicky. So, Aunt Clara kind of took control of our upbringing. She was close to retirement age by then, so she resigned from her job at the bakery and devoted her life to diaper rash and dance classes instead.”
He glanced at the car below them, where Clara and Nicky had their heads together, like co-conspirators. His admiration for the old woman grew.
“Then when I was ten and Nicky was three, our father remarried, and…” She shrugged.
“And?”
“We went to stay with Aunt Clara for the summer, so my dad and his new bride, Merilee, could have their privacy. We never left. Merilee didn’t want us. She and my father moved to Arizona ten years ago. I haven’t seen him since.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She shrugged again. “It doesn’t matter.”
But it did matter. He knew well the sting of a father’s rejection.
“I know we’ll have to do something about Aunt Clara soon, but I want to keep her home for as long as possible. She should have spent her retirement years seeing the world, enjoying herself. Instead, she took care of us. I can’t abandon her now.”
“No, of course you can’t.”
He lost track of time, sitting there on top of the world with her, lost track of how many circuits they made before the ride began to slow. When their car came to a stop, Dalton signaled to Danny that they were staying on. Hypnotized by the rise and fall of Harper’s voice, there was nothing to do but keep riding.
As the car inched its way back toward the sky, he found himself lost in the soft curve of her cheek, the way her leg brushed against his in the cramped seat, and the hypnotizing effects of her green-gold eyes.
“So how did you end up with a food truck?”
“I’ve always been a foodie.” Her lips curled into a smile. “Growing up I was always happiest when I was in Clara’s kitchen, cooking and baking. I loved experimenting with tastes and colors. My biggest dream was to be a chef, like Aunt Clara. As soon as we were old enough to work, my best friend, Ashley, and I started busing tables at a diner here in town, and eventually we were promoted to line cooks. Ashley and I dreamed of opening our own restaurant. But then they built the plaza outside of town, and the big-name restaurants pushed out all but a couple of the mom ‘n pop diners. A food truck seemed like a safer investment. So, we did that.”
“But you still want the restaurant?”
“I don’t know. Maybe someday.” She shrugged. “Things have changed.”
It didn’t look to him as if there was a partner in the picture. Her tone said the subject was closed, but even so, he pressed. “Did you and your friend have some sort of a falling out?”
She looked at him and then looked away. “She died.”
He blew out his breath. Though he barely knew her, Dalton felt a growing kinship with Harper Blessings. Her mother, her father, and her best friend. Three staggering losses in a short twenty-four years. He and Harper were a lot alike. The difference was that Harper hadn’t run away. She’d obviously faced her demons and learned to live with them.
They were quiet for long moments.
“It’s funny, I think about my mother more than I do my dad, and I barely remember her.” She ran a hand across her abdomen. “I know what happened to her is rare. But I get scared sometimes.”
For the briefest moment, his hand clasped hers. The warm softness of her skin evoked feelings he did not want to acknowledge, and he withdrew his hand.
“I’m not trying to minimize your fear, Harper, I would never do that. But thousands of women have babies every day with no trouble. I’m sure everything will be fine with yours.”
“That’s what I tell myself.”
He knew he shouldn’t ask, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “What about the baby’s father?”
Her gaze slid away from his. “That’s complicated, too.”
He waited, but this time she didn’t elaborate. The ride began its slow, stop?and?go motion again as one by one the passengers departed their cars.
“We should get off this time,” she said. “I’m starting to feel a little nauseous.”
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No.”
“I ask too many questions.”
“It’s not that.” But it clearly was. She guarded her secrets, just as he guarded his. He’d invaded her privacy. Their car came to a stop, and he helped her out.
“Wasn’t that fabulous?” Clara exclaimed. “I could have ridden all night!”
As they moved away from the ride a small, dark figure appeared from out of the shadows.
“Finley?” Harper checked the time on her phone. “Are you still here, hon?”
“I’m heading home soon.” Her gaze moved to Nicky. “Hey, have you got a minute?”
“Sure.”
Nicky smoothly steered the girl out of the flow of people, and they talked quietly for a few moments before Nicky returned. “Hey, Harp, do you think??”
“Go ahead, Nicky. I’ll walk Clara home.”
“Thanks.”
“Just don’t lose track of time. Remember, Finley’s got a curfew.”
“I know.”
“And remember we have church in the morning,” Clara sang out. She turned to Dalton. “Why don’t you join us, dear?”
“For church?” he asked, startled.
Harper looked alarmed. “Oh, Aunt Clara, I’m sure Dalton doesn’t want?”
“It’s Good Shepherd Lutheran. The big white church at the end of Main Street,” Clara said. “You can’t miss it.”
“Ahh, I haven’t been to church since I was a kid.”
“Then it’s high time you went. And afterward you can have Sunday dinner with us. I’ll make meatloaf.” She wagged a crooked finger at him. “I won’t take no for an answer. Unless you don’t like meatloaf?”
“I love meatloaf.”
Nicky laughed. “Dude, no one loves meatloaf.”
Finley giggled.
“You’re welcome to come too, Finley, if you’d like,” Clara said.
“Um, OK.”
“Then it’s all settled.” She turned back to Dalton. “We’ll see you tomorrow at ten o’clock sharp.” She linked arms with Harper, who seemed resigned to the idea, if not particularly happy about it. “Let’s get a cotton candy on the way out, dear.”
As he watched them walk away, Dalton felt a subtle uneasiness inside. Ten o’clock sharp. What faith he’d once had, had been severely shaken by last year’s tragedy, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about God anymore. Or how God felt about him. But despite a few misgivings, he’d be there.