Knitted Hearts (Dogwood Creek Matchmakers #8)
Chapter One
A fresh delivery of merino and cashmere yarn beckoned to be squished and admired before adding the skeins to inventory and placed on shelves.
Maegan Hanson picked up a skein dyed baby blue with lavender and pink speckles that reminded her of magnolia blossoms against the backdrop of a bright spring day.
“Perfect for the new shawl pattern that released last week,” she said to herself, setting aside a hank for herself. She’d knit it as a display to show off the colorway, then add the shawl to her personal stash at the end of the season.
She finished processing today’s shipment between helping customers.
With February coming to an end, so would her busy season at Ye Olde Yarn Shoppe.
While she appreciated the increased revenue from August through February, she was exhausted and looking forward to a slower pace.
Running her own business was hard work, though she had no complaints.
When Gran had left her a generous inheritance, Maegan couldn’t think of a better way to honor her grandmother than by opening the yarn store Gran had always encouraged her to pursue, and it was Gran who opened Maegan’s eyes to the world of fiber arts.
She quickly fell in love, and opening Ye Olde Yarn Shoppe became her dream, even at the young age of six when Gran had first taught her to crochet and knit.
She adored the sensation of buttery soft yarn gliding over her fingers as she worked the stitches. She loved the satisfaction and euphoria when she finished a project, especially when she gave it away and saw the recipients’ joy.
What drew her most to fiber arts, however, was the balm it provided to her soul.
That intentional slowing down to create a work of art from string.
The conversations she had with God in the silence while her hands moved, and the prayers for friends and family as she worked on a special project for them.
How anxiety melted away with each stitch.
Knitting and crocheting weren’t just a hobby for her. Yes, they provided a living, but they were a medicine, a lifeline, a calling.
The bell above the door chimed, announcing a visitor. Maegan looked up and saw Nancy Lundgren walk in, wearing a comfy pant suit accented with a bright magenta scarf tied around her neck.
“Good morning, Nancy. Come to get those yarns we discussed?”
“In part.” Nancy’s eyes twinkled, making her appear younger than her mid-sixties. “I’ve also come to invite you to dinner tomorrow night.”
Warning bells sounded in Maegan’s head. She adored Nancy, considered her a trusted friend and mentor.
Yet Nancy and a group of her friends were affectionately known throughout town as the “Dogwood Creek Matchmakers.” They’d had many successful matches, but Maegan had no desire to be on the receiving end of their efforts.
“Will anyone else be attending?” she asked, casually fishing for information.
Nancy’s lips pinched ever so slightly, then she continued. “I’ve invited others.”
“Which others,” Maegan probed, holding back a smirk while playing Nancy’s game.
“Well, I did ask Ella, but she won’t be able to make it.”
“Of course not. She spends every Thursday with her great aunt at the senior’s home in Sevierville.”
Nancy didn’t miss a beat. “She heard me say I was making my famous chicken and dumplings, and you know they are her favorite. Not inviting her would have been the peak of rudeness.”
“Were there any other invitations issued?” Maegan walked out from behind the counter, amused.
She offered Nancy a genuine smile. “I’m always happy to share a meal with you but forgive me if I’m suspicious when the invitation comes on this particular Wednesday when I know you’ve spent last evening with your matchmaking friends for your monthly meetup. ”
A combination chuckle and huff escaped Nancy. “How did you know we met a week early? We were working on Easter cards for the church shut-ins if you must know.”
Maegan lifted a brow, “And there were no discussions about possible matches that could be made?”
“We are perfectly capable of getting together and sticking to our project at hand,” Nancy declared, waving a dismissive hand before breaking out into a wide smile. “However, you caught me. I know, I know, you aren’t looking for a relationship, but would one dinner hurt?”
A wave of sobriety crashed Maegan’s emotions. “Dogwood Creek is a small town, and everyone knows what happened with Jess. I don’t want to sit across the table from a guy who pities me and wonders what’s so wrong with me that my fiancé left me for his assistant two weeks before our wedding.”
Anger flared in Nancy’s eyes. “Listen to me and listen to me good. Jess is a fool. What he did was inexcusable, and though I’m sorry for the pain it caused you, I’m not sorry you saw his true colors before you married.
His actions speak of his character and his weakness and have no reflection on you.
If anything, your strength in the weeks and months following showed the town your true colors.
” She leaned closer. “Not that anyone in this town doubted. This town loves you, Maegan, and no one is looking at you with pity. If a man is looking at you, it’s because you’re a beautiful, intelligent, successful woman who radiates God’s love in all that you do. ”
Maegan hugged Nancy’s arm. “My head knows that, but my heart struggles to believe it.”
“If you truly aren’t ready to date again, or if you are completely opposed to a homecooked meal at my place, then I’ll completely understand if you decline my invitation.”
The warmth and understanding Nancy offered plucked Maegan’s conscience.
She had been a true friend and stood by her after Jess ran off, even cutting off gossip when she’d encountered the horrid talk.
“I’m not saying yes, but what Dogwood Creek bachelor is the object of your crew’s efforts this time? ”
Nancy’s lips curled in a gleeful smile. “This is the best part- he’s only recently moved to Dogwood Creek.”
“You want to set me up with someone you barely know?”
“Of course not.” Nancy tsked and shook her head. “Judah was college roommates with my youngest son. He even came here for the summer after their sophomore year.”
Maegan searched in her memories but couldn’t picture anyone specifically. “If I recall correctly, your youngest was several years ahead of me in school so our circles rarely came together.”
“That’s true.” Tapping a hand on Maegan’s arm, Nancy continued. “Even as a teenager, you were mature for your age. I’ve always tended to think you’re older than you are.”
Uncomfortable with the compliment, Maegan shifted back to the topic at hand. Despite her better judgement, a nudge of curiosity pricked her. “Judah, you said?”
“He’s a good man,” Nancy answered, nodding her head. “I consider him a fourth son.”
“What brings him to Dogwood Creek?” She straightened a row of packaged knitting needles on a peg as she spoke. “I love this town, and I can’t imagine living anywhere else, but it’s not often we get newcomers.”
An unreadable expression shadowed Nancy’s eyes briefly before the normal shimmer of joy returned. “He’s the new sheriff’s deputy.”
Also known as, Nancy knew but wasn’t going to tell as it wasn’t her story to share, which Maegan admired. For all the meddling Nancy and her friends partook in, they weren’t known to gossip and could be trusted with the deepest secrets.
“What is he like?”
“Tall, dark, and handsome.” With an unapologetic tone, Nancy continued.
“He attended college on a basketball scholarship, not surprising with his height- he must be at least six three, maybe even six four. In college, he always wore his hair shaggy, but these days he keeps it trimmed and tidy, which makes his hair even darker, dare I say the color of espresso. No, that’s how I would describe his eyes.
I always wanted brown-eyed babies, but all my boys have blue or green. ”
“Nancy-,” Maegan interrupted before her friend launched into a genetics lesson.
Bless her heart, but Nancy loved reading, even ran a mobile library, and thus was a treasure trove of information.
Maegan didn’t wish to be rude, never to her dear friend, but she’d already heard the genetics behind her sons’ eye colors multiple times over the years, plus, she had to get back to work.
Since she had small groups at church tonight, she couldn’t stay late to make up the time.
She offered a smile, hoping Nancy wouldn’t be offended by the interruption.
But of course, Nancy wouldn’t be, that wasn’t her nature.
“I’m glad he’s not an ogre, but I meant what is his demeanor, his personality. ”
That odd look passed over Nancy again. Was she imagining it?
“Judah is steady and dependable. Whatever he commits to, he gives it his all. And he’s very thoughtful. Every year on the anniversary of Thomas’ death, Judah sends me a bouquet of flowers to brighten what’s otherwise a sad day.”
“That is exceptionally sweet of him.”
“That’s Judah. Not a bad or selfish bone in him.” Clearly, Nancy held him in high regard. “I’d love for him to feel welcomed here in Dogwood Creek. Even if you could only see him as a friend, I’d love for you to join us for dinner tomorrow night.”
Her steel reserve weakened. One- she couldn’t say no to Nancy, not after she’d been such a good friend. Two- Something about Judah intrigued her. She wanted to discover if Nancy had built him into a myth or if he truly was as good as he sounded. “I would love to join you on one condition.”
“What is that?”
“No pressure. I’ll be there as your friend, helping to be the Dogwood Creek welcome wagon. No suggestions, no seating us side-by-side so closely our hands have to touch. None of your usual shenanigans.”
“Shenanigans?” Nancy asked in a coy tone.
“You know what I mean. No funny business.”
The older lady heaved an exaggerated sigh. “You are no fun. I’ll agree, but don’t blame me if this is the most boring dinner on record.”
“Time with you is never boring.”
Nancy chuckled. “On that note, I do have to run but let me buy that yarn you set aside first. It’s the super soft cotton, right?”
“Yes, in the loveliest neutral tones. Let me grab them from the back.” She left the sales floor, pulled the items from the hold shelf, and returned, spreading the items over the counter for Nancy to view.
“These are wonderful,” Nancy exclaimed, picking up an earthy pink yarn. “Some cottons are hard for me to crochet with, but I love this brand and it makes wonderful baby accessories.”
“I knitted a blanket for my friend’s baby girl with the sage. Caroline told me Juju won’t sleep without it.” The mention of her friend and newborn made her smile. “They’re coming for a visit next month.”
Excitement lit in Nancy’s eyes. “Please let me know when they are here. I can’t wait to meet that sweet precious baby.”
“Absolutely. I know Caroline would love to see you.” She rung up Nancy’s order on the register, factoring in a generous discount since she knew most of the items made would be donated to those in need.
“Thank you, my dear.” Taking the bag with one hand, Nancy held up a pointed finger with the other. “Don’t forget- tomorrow at six-thirty.”
“I’ll be there.” For better or worse, she lamented silently, wondering what she’d gotten herself into.