The Best Man (Blue Heron #1)(56)
Poor Goggy. How hard it must’ve been, moving on from that idyllic love to something so utilitarian with Pops, wondering what life would’ve been like if Peter had come home from the war. Dad, too, faced with so many days without Mom, his life so different from the one he’d imagined.
She wished she could call Jeremy, hear his kind voice. Maybe her grandmother was right...she’d never find someone to love who measured up to her first love. Just like Goggy. Just like Dad.
Crap. She seemed to be crying a little.
Blue gave a soft snort, then wagged his tail in his sleep. The moonlight was sweetly unfamiliar, cutting into her room in slices of cool white. From the kitchen came the sound of the refrigerator cycling on. Otherwise, it was quiet.
She may as well get up, check the production schedule for the barn. She padded barefoot to her office, Blue following dutifully, his ball in his mouth, then flopped down at her feet as she sat at her desk, as if they’d lived here for years instead of hours. Faith rubbed her foot through his thick fur, earning a croon of appreciation from the beastie.
You couldn’t be too lonely with a dog. That was for sure. Faith turned on her computer, then noticed something.
The apartment smelled like chocolate.
Now, that was nice. And a little odd. Maybe the bakery was opening already? As the computer warmed up, Faith went to the front windows to check. Nope, Lorelei’s windows were dark.
She went to the door and opened it a crack. The hall was dark, but there was a band of light coming from under the door of 3C, and the smell of chocolate was stronger here. Blue poked his head out, too, and licked his chops.
Levi was baking.
Baking at 3:17 in the morning.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TWO WEEKS LATER, all Levi wanted was to get into his apartment without Faith’s big dog leg-humping him in the hall, pour himself a beer and watch the Yankees win. It had been a very long couple of days; he was trying to train Everett, but the kid had a mind like a sieve. Nevertheless, Levi was letting him be in charge tonight, no matter how unsettling the thought was.
“You call me if there’s anything you’re not sure about, okay?” he asked. “And you keep that gun holstered. If I hear you took it out without my direct consent, you’re fired. I don’t care who your mother is.”
Everett beamed. “Roger, Chief. Don’t worry about anything.” He put his feet up on the desk, missed and fell out of his chair.
Levi suppressed a sigh. “I’ll check in later.”
“You’re a control freak, did anyone ever tell you that?” Emmaline said as she pulled on her raincoat. On her desk was a book entitled Taking Control of Your Life: How to Change a Dead-End Job into the Career of Your Dreams.
“Looking for a new job, Em?” he asked.
“Looking to get yours.” She gave him one of her classic looks, half amused, half irritated.
Levi held the door for her, then bent his head against the foul weather. Even though it was only October, it had gotten cold all of a sudden, and the earlier rain had turned to sleet. The sidewalk was already slick. Lucky for him, his commute was roughly fifty yards. He walked with Emmaline, who lived right across the way in a pretty little bungalow next to the library. There was some work going on there—right. Faith Holland was doing something to the courtyard.
“Thanks for walking me home. Now go. Get away. Leave me. Shoo,” Emmaline said as she unlocked the door. “And don’t obsess over Everett. He needs experience, and if you keep hovering over him like a worried mother, he’ll never learn.”
“Have you thought of running for president?” he asked.
“I have, but I don’t photograph well. Try to have a good night, Chief.”
A night alone. It should be something he looked forward to. Sarah had shown up Tuesday night, claiming to be sick. Homesick, yes, but physically sick, no. Plus, she’d hitchhiked. With a cop for a brother! Said her car hadn’t started, so she’d gotten a ride with the Hostess deliveryman. This had required Levi to lecture her on the dangers of that and the idiocy of saying she didn’t want to go to college. “What are you gonna do if you stay here?” he’d asked sharply as he’d driven her home the next morning. “Wait tables? Be a bartender up at one of the vineyards? Don’t you want more, Sarah?” She’d answered by staring out the window, tears leaking out of her eyes, making him feel like an utter shit. She hadn’t even said goodbye when he’d pulled up in front of her dorm.
Then there’d been a wreck on Route 54...no fatality, but for the grace of God—Josh Deiner, the same kid who’d gotten Abby Vanderbeek drunk. The wreck had resulted in the kid losing his license, which brought on a huge hissy fit—he was a rich kid, not used to the rules applying to him.
And then there was Faith Holland, living across the hall from him. It was...distracting. He’d only seen her a few times, but each time, it seemed harder to shake off.
“Hey, Chief! Nasty night, isn’t it?” Lorelei called as she locked the front door of the bakery.
“It is. You be careful on the roads, okay?”
“You bet.” She beamed, then dug her car keys out of her giant purple purse. He waited till she got in her car, then watched as she drove up the street. She fishtailed slightly as she turned, but she only lived about a mile out of the village, not up the Hill, where conditions would be worse.