No End to Love: A Love in Spring Novel Page 4

  Then a phone rang and Mrs. Wilkins excused herself, disappearing into a room behind the counter. Ellie wandered around the shop, appreciating some vintage pieces of furniture and scrunching up her nose at old-looking things that weren’t quite to her taste. When movement outside the shop window caught her attention, she rushed to open the door for a man coming toward the shop with what looked like a bedside table in his arms.

  “Thanks,” he said as he walked in. His deep, very sexy voice made her body heat up from the inside out. She blinked, momentarily stunned by her reaction to a simple word.

  He carried the nightstand up to the counter, and she only got a fleeting view of his profile as he passed her by. His very masculine, very beautiful profile. With dark brown, nearly black hair, and the dark shadow of a beard. Her eyes traveled from his biceps flexing underneath his dark sweatshirt, down to his toned butt in snug denim, as he put the piece of furniture on the floor with a groan.

  “I guess I’m getting too old to carry stuff by myself. Thanks for holding the door open for me,” he said, with a polite smile and a nod. “Is Dora in the backroom?”

  Ellie stared completely dumbfounded into eyes the color of dark chocolate framed by long, dark lashes. She’d always thought her ideal man had blond hair and blue eyes, but the handsome stranger staring at her had just changed her mind. Tall, dark, and slightly mysterious was by far her new favorite now. She mentally slapped herself as soon as the thought formed. So much for promising she’d never let another man into her life.

  She opened her mouth to say something, anything, that would prevent her from coming off as an idiot, but Mrs. Wilkins walking in from the other room interrupted her.

  “Oh, hi Adam. You’ve brought the Gardiners’ order, I see.” She was all smiles as she inspected the nightstand, her hand brushing the polished surface delicately, as if she was afraid to damage it.

  “The other one’s in the car. I’ll go get it,” he said. Again, just the sound of his voice made something flare up inside Ellie’s body. She needed to get out, and away from this man right now.

  “Um, I think I should get going,” she said, hoping Mrs. Wilkins, and the handsome stranger, couldn’t hear the slight tremble in her voice.

  “Oh, dear. I’m sorry, we never fixed a time for our visit tomorrow.” Mrs. Wilkins rounded the corner and placed herself between Ellie and the man. She looked at him and smiled. “She’s just moved into the Daughertys’ place and has some old furniture we should be able to sell for her.”

  The man gave her another polite smile and stuck out his hand. “I’m Adam. Welcome to Spring.”

  “Ellie,” she said, as she took it. A zing like an electric shock coursed through her, from her hand straight up her arm, and across her chest. She flinched and barely contained a yelp, biting her bottom lip to prevent the sound from escaping her lips.

  Could this be…

  No. It was just a superstition, a story her mother had made up to make a young, rather gullible Ellie believe in fairy tales just a bit longer. Amelia used to tell her daughter that from the moment she shook hands with Terence Hawthorne, she knew that they were meant to be. She’d felt a jolt shoot up from her hand to her heart, and something like a swarm of butterflies had fluttered their wings in her chest, causing her heart to skip a beat. From that moment, Amelia had known he was the one, and their fairy-tale marriage had proven her theory.

  Even though she knew it was silly, Ellie had grown up believing what her mother used to tell her about meeting your one true love. She had never questioned the truth of her mother’s words until she was nineteen and met Greg. She’d been sure he was her one, but since she hadn’t experienced any of the symptoms Amelia had, she’d thought her mother must have been mistaken. Once things with Greg went south, Ellie realized she probably should have believed her words and steered clear from him when she didn’t feel the ‘jolt of love’. And most especially when she didn’t feel it with Spencer Boren, the main cause of her unemployment and her departure from San Francisco.

  “Don’t you worry about our ability to sell that furniture for you, dear. Don’t think that because Spring is such a small town my business isn’t thriving.” Mrs. Wilkins continued their previous conversation as if they hadn’t been interrupted, and totally oblivious to Ellie’s reaction. “Apart from the tourists, people come from all over Curry County, ever since my youngest son, Taylor, created our website. His brother calls him a geek, but thanks to him we’ve managed to expand our reach outside the borders of Spring.”

  Ellie smiled at the woman’s enthusiasm. She’d underestimated small-town life, probably due to Charli’s constant comments about moving to a sleepy town full of technologically-impaired old people and no cell coverage unless you walked to the top of the lighthouse. Talk about being biased.

  “Yeah, he’s done an awesome job,” Adam said, making Mrs. Wilkins’ smile grow even broader. “Orders have increased since he put our pieces on the website.”

  “Adam and his grandfather make artisanal furniture, and they’ve become quite popular with our clients,” she said, when Ellie raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I used to work here when Adam’s grandfather owned Tales Of Old Times. None of his grandkids wanted to take over the business when he retired, so Eamon sold it to me. Recommending his crafts is the least I can do.”

  She pointed at the night table Adam had brought in, and Ellie traced her fingers on the craftily carved rose that served as a handle. “You did this? Wow, it’s beautiful.”

  He scratched his scruffy cheek and smiled coyly. If possible, he was even more adorable. Not only was he handsome, he was also an artist. Could she get any luckier?

  “It’s all my Gramps’ doing. I’m working on a chest of drawers, but I’m not finished yet. By the way,” he continued, turning his attention to Mrs. Wilkins. “I’m sorry I’m late. It’s taking longer than I’d planned. I should be done by tomorrow.”

  “Don’t worry, dear. The lady won’t come back to Spring until next weekend.” She smiled at Adam, and Ellie could swear the woman had stars in her eyes. She couldn’t blame her, though. He was a sight for sore eyes, and she was sure he had women’s heads turning, no matter their age.

  “Fine, I’d better go get the other nightstand from the car and bring it in, now. I’ve got some other errands to run.” He turned to Ellie and nodded. “Hope you enjoy your stay in Spring. See you around.”

  “Sure,” she said, any other words deserting her as their eyes locked for a brief moment. For a woman who’d sworn off men, it hadn’t taken her long to break the promise she’d made to herself after Spencer humiliated her.

  Mrs. Wilkins handed her a small folder, and Ellie forced herself to stare away from Adam. She mentally chided herself and focused on what Mrs. Wilkins was saying.

  “Have a look at these pictures. There are a few of Adam and Eamon’s pieces. See if there’s anything you like, and when we meet tomorrow, you can let me know if you’d like to order anything for your house.”

  Ellie nodded and took the folder, then left the shop before Adam returned. She needed time to process what had happened, and to decide whether she believed her mother’s superstition or if it had just been a coincidence.

  She got on her bike and put the folder into the basket. As she pedaled back toward her cottage, with visions of Adam swirling in her mind, she thought maybe she should get herself a cat. Or a dog. Or maybe even just a hamster. She didn’t really need a man’s company to be happy, did she?

  Chapter Five

  “Hey, you started without me!”

  Adam walked into what had once upon a time been a barn, but had been turned into a workshop some twenty years ago, when Adam’s father had moved his vet practice into his new office downtown, letting his own father take control of the place. The smell of hay had long been replaced by the smell of wood and polish, a smell that Adam used to relate to happy times in his childhood and adolescence spent carving little toy figurines with his grandfather. Now it only reminded
him of those tough months after he came home from Seattle. When spending days and nights taking out his rage onto chunks of wood had been the only thing that kept him sane.

  Whereas back then he’d used the workshop whenever he’d felt restless, nowadays he enjoyed coming out here just to unwind and spend a little time with his Grandpa Eamon, sharing a hobby nobody else in the family had taken up.

  “Curtis stopped by to drop off a few pictures,” his grandfather said now. “A young woman has moved into the Daughertys place. Dora bought most of her furniture, so she needs some new pieces quickly.”

  “She was at the shop when I brought in the Gardiners’ order. Dora praised our furniture so much, she must’ve convinced her to buy something,” Adam said, nodding as he reached for the pictures Dora provided with every order—unless it was some custom-made item, in which case they’d meet with the client and discuss the details in person. “So, what have we got?”

  Adam sat on the stool opposite his grandfather, who was already busy carving what seemed like a table leg out of a chunk of oak wood.

  “I take it you’ve picked the coffee table, so I’ll get started on the nightstand,” Adam said, reaching for his tools.

  Eamon nodded, focusing on giving the leg the right shape and size. Adam had always loved the quiet of the workshop, and the fact that his grandpa never pushed him to talk. It was one of the reasons why he’d enjoyed spending time with him, back when everyone wanted him to talk about his feelings while he just wanted to be left alone to grieve in peace.

  Now he treasured a few hours of silence, after listening to Sophie’s constant chattering. He loved his daughter to bits, but lately her inquisitive phase was driving him nuts. She never seemed content with whatever answer he gave her, since a moment later she came up with another question. And this went on from dawn till dusk, until she fell asleep.

  “When are you starting at the Sheriff’s office?” Eamon asked some time later, when Adam was already half finished with the frame of the nightstand and his grandfather had already finished three legs. Adam never seemed to notice time passing by whenever he was in the workshop with his grandpa.

  “In a couple of days. I figured I’d better start while I’ve still got a full babysitting team at home, take some extra shifts, so maybe once I’m on my own Glen will let me work around Sophie’s schedule.”

  “Makes sense.” Eamon nodded, blowing the wood dust off the leg. “I’ll miss that little girl once you’re out of here, though.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m pretty sure we’ll be here often enough.”

  Adam lifted the piece of wood, tilted his head and squinted, checking it was perfect. He had his doubts about surviving as a single father, especially once Sophie started school. He wanted to be independent, but raising a child on his own wouldn’t be a piece of cake. He’d leaned too much on his family, especially when it came to raising Sophie, and he was afraid he’d screw up. Would his parents take him back if he came crawling home in a few months?

  “I should hope so. Who else do you think would help me with the orders? Your brother?” Eamon quirked a bushy, white eyebrow.

  Adam smiled. “No way. I could never let Kean destroy our reputation.”

  The old man laughed, shaking his head, and reached for a new chunk of wood. “Stop talking and get back to work now. That nightstand isn’t going to finish itself.”

  Adam stared at him for a moment; he was pretty sure his grandfather had known from the very first moment he’d involved Adam in his custom-made furniture project three years ago that this would be more beneficial to his grandson than to him. Adam loved him for providing the help he’d so desperately needed back then, but hadn’t wanted to ask for.

  “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Sophie burst into the barn a moment later, with her usual never-ending supply of energy, and ran straight toward Adam. He braced for impact and opened his arms to scoop her up, before she flung herself at him. “Gwammy says you have to go to the gwoss store.”

  Adam chuckled, hugging Sophie to his chest, and kissed the top of her head. “And did she tell you what I have to buy at the grocery store?”

  Sophie’s face puckered in concentration, as she brought a finger to her lips. “Ice cweam. And chocolate bunnies. Oh, and cawwots for Buzz.”

  Adam smiled. “That all?”

  Sophie nodded, her face serious as if she’d just told him a list of vital stuff she couldn’t do without.

  “Are you sure Grammy said I should buy ice cream and chocolate bunnies?” he asked “’Cause I’m pretty sure you already had your sugar fix for the day when you stuffed your mouth with Grammy’s cookies just a couple of hours ago.”

  “But Gwammy’s cookies are healfy, they don’t come fwom a box,” Sophie said, rolling her eyes in a very grown-up way, as if she was talking about the benefits of organic food in a diet, and he didn’t get it. He bit his lip, swallowing back a chuckle. He had a hard time remaining serious when she said things lately, but since everyone else enjoyed spoiling her rotten, he had to be the one to put his foot down and play the part of the responsible grown-up. Sometimes.

  “Okay, how about you go tell Grammy I’ll be there in a minute, and she can give me a list of things she needs me to buy?”

  Sophie nodded, but made no move to go. She turned her attention to his grandfather. “What are you doing, GG? Is dat a toy?”

  When Sophie was learning to talk, Great Grandpa had seemed much too hard to say, so she’d found it easier to just call him GG. Even though her speech had improved now, the nickname remained, and his grandfather didn’t seem to mind. Adam could swear the old man melted like ice cream in the sun whenever Sophie called him GG.

  “Nope, it’s a small table.”

  “Is it for my dolls?” Sophie asked, her face already brightening at the thought of a new item for her tea parties—the tea parties Adam was often a guest at.

  Eamon chuckled. “No, love. This is for a young lady who needs it for her house.” When Sophie’s smile faded, and she let out a disappointed, “Oh,” Eamon stood up and came closer to her. “But maybe once I’m finished with this, I will make a small table for your dolls, too. Would you like that?”

  Sophie’s smile was back in record time, and she nodded enthusiastically. Adam rolled his eyes. So much for teaching his little girl she couldn’t have everything she wanted, when everyone around him did their best to destroy his efforts.

  “Go back inside now, so we can finish this. Then your dad can go into town.”

  Sophie nodded and got off Adam’s lap. She ran to the door, then turned back and gave them a toothy, megawatt smile. “Thank you, GG. Elsa and Anna will be vewy happy.”

  Adam smiled. Well, at least he’d managed to teach her manners.

  “Since you’re already going into town, would you bring a book back to the library and pick up another one for me?” Eamon asked as they were leaving the workshop ten minutes later.

  His grandfather spent half his day in the workshop and the other half reading thrillers and mysteries. He even went to the monthly book club meeting at the library and, as far as Adam knew, he’d never missed it. He wasn’t a man who liked idling.

  “Sure, no problem. I’ll actually take the opportunity and get a book for Sophie’s bedtime read. Last night she told me she wants to hear some new stories, and I’m not really qualified to make up stories for a three-year-old.” Adam smiled, remembering the sassy way his daughter had told him she was tired of always hearing the same stories, and she already knew how they ended. He’d fought back a smile and promised he’d read a different story tomorrow.

  “That little one’s going to give you grief when she grows up,” Eamon said, following Adam into the house. “She’s a lot like her mother, but I’m sure she inherited your mischievous side, too.”

  Adam stopped walking and stared at his grandfather with wide eyes. “I’m not mischievous!”

  “Maybe not anymore, but you and Kean weren’t angels.” The old man grinned,
and Adam thought his face was the exact picture of mischief right then. “But it’s okay—it’s a Cavanagh thing. Runs in the family.”

  “What about Kyle? How come you didn’t include him?” Adam said, feigning offense. Their younger brother, being the baby and all, had always gotten away with most of the things he did. Apparently, his grandfather had a soft spot for him, too.

  “All Kyle cared about was playing ball. Apart from a broken window, he never got into trouble. Unlike the two of you: the cowboy and the sheriff.”

  Adam laughed, remembering the days when they were little and played cowboys. He always played the part of the sheriff who rescued the damsel in distress, Hannah, from the bad cowboy, Kean. And the process always involved skinned knees, bumps on the head, and even stitches and broken bones once, thanks to Kean’s penchant for jumping off tree branches. Kyle, on the other hand, had always been the quiet one, playing ball with Hannah’s younger siblings, and leaving the dangerous stuff to the older daredevils.

  “Fine, I’ll give you that. She might have got a little bit of mischief from me; she’s a Cavanagh, after all. Go get the book you need me to return. And write down what you want me to pick up.”

  “I want the next one on my list. Shelly has a copy, she knows which one.”

  Adam quirked an eyebrow and smiled. “Shelly knows, huh? Seems to me you’re getting extremely up close and personal with the former librarian, Gramps. Anything you’d like to share with your favorite grandson?”

  Eamon shrugged and continued walking down the corridor to his room. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. And who said you’re my favorite, anyway?”