Summer on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #6)(16)

Anne Marie had hoped this would happen. Elise had gone through a painful grieving period after her husband’s death. It had been different, in some ways, from Anne Marie’s experience, since Elise’s husband—Maverick by name and maverick by nature, as he used to describe himself—had died of cancer. He’d lingered for several years, and Elise had said she was grateful for each extra day. Anne Marie’s husband, Robert, however, had died suddenly, unexpectedly, of a massive heart attack.

“Do you want a Yorkie like Baxter?” Ellen asked.

“I’m not sure just yet,” Elise said in a pensive tone. “I’ll go down to the Humane Society and see what dogs they have available. It seems to me that Maverick would want me to adopt a rescue dog. He always believed in second chances….”

Her gaze fell lovingly on the portrait of her late husband. He wore his cowboy hat and smiled directly into the camera. There was an irrepressible quality about him, Anne Marie thought. As though taking risks was all part of life—taking risks and accepting the consequences with a grin and a wink. Anne Marie and Ellen left soon after. They’d brought Elise a gift of thanks for looking after the dog—a lovely blue silk scarf with a f leur-de-lis pattern. Ellen cradled Baxter in her arms, murmuring to him as they walked to the car. When they clambered into the backseat, Baxter curled up on Ellen’s lap and promptly went to sleep.

By the time Anne Marie pulled in behind Blossom Street Books, both Ellen and Baxter were napping soundly. It seemed a shame to wake Ellen, who looked up at her with drooping eyes.

“We’re home?” the little girl asked.

Anne Marie nodded. “Let’s go upstairs and tuck you into bed, all right?”

“Okay.”

Anne Marie helped her climb the stairs as the dog scrambled up ahead of them. Ellen fell asleep again within minutes. Anne Marie wanted to do a few chores before she took a nap herself. After transferring the wash to the dryer, she noticed the light blinking on her phone. Checking voice mail again, she discovered another hang-up. Curious now, Anne Marie hurried down to the bookstore. Teresa glanced up from some new greeting cards she was arranging in the rack.

“Oh, Anne Marie, hi. I didn’t expect to see you for the rest of the day.”

“How are things?” she asked, looking around. She saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“Great. The summer releases are so good this year, I can hardly keep the new hardcovers on the shelves.”

This was welcome news.

“Anything…unusual happen while I was away?” Anne Marie wasn’t sure how to phrase the question.

Teresa bit her lip as if considering how to respond. “Not really… What makes you ask?”

“There were a number of hang-ups on my personal phone. I’ve never had that before. I just wondered if it was something to do with the bookstore.”

Teresa shrugged. “I’m sorry. I have no idea.”

“Okay, I was just curious. It’s a bit odd, that’s all.” Anne Marie collected her mail and turned away.

“Wait a minute,” Teresa said, stopping her. Anne Marie turned back. “Yes?”

“There was someone here earlier in the week. A man. He asked to speak to you regarding a private matter.”

A private matter? “Did he leave his name or number?”

“No. I asked, and he said he’d contact you later.”

Again, this was all rather odd. “Did he say anything else?”

Teresa’s eyes narrowed slightly. “No, not that I can recall.”

“What did he look like?”

A smile wavered on her lips. “Actually, he was pretty hot.”

Anne Marie grinned. “Def ine hot. ”

“Tall—about six-one, maybe six-two. In good shape. He’s nice-looking. Very nice-looking.”

“Dark hair? Or blond?”

“Dark. And brown eyes. He seemed anxious to talk to you. Do you know who it might be?”

Anne Marie shook her head.

“What about your hang-ups? That might’ve been him. Is there a number on caller ID?”

Anne Marie exhaled loudly. “It came up No Data.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to wait and see if he comes by again.”

That was her thought, too. Well, a tall, dark and handsome stranger apparently wanted to meet her. Things could be worse.

Chapter 6

Honey, knitting is so much more than just plain obsessive compulsive behavior…it’s the healthiest addiction I know! —Antje Gillingham, owner of The Knitting Nest in Maryville, TN

Lydia Goetz

It’s my habit to check each room before retiring for the night. Brad was already in bed, reading Michael Connelly’s latest suspense novel. As I walked through the house, I checked the locks and turned off the lights in the kitchen. Then I looked in on Cody, who was fast asleep.

Chase, my stepson’s golden retriever, slept on the braided rug next to Cody’s bed. When I opened the bedroom door a crack, Chase—ever vigilant—raised his head. Seeing me, he lowered his head again.

All was well in the house and in my world. I had a new feeling of anticipation, a sense of excitement that stayed with me. It had begun the day I received a call from Evelyn Boyle regarding our approval as adoption candidates.

Just as I entered our bedroom, the phone rang.