The Devine Doughnut Shop(34)

“Just keep telling yourself that you are strong and that when the time is right, a man will come into your life that will love you for yourself and not for your money,” Beezy told her.

“Right now, I don’t want to meet another man for a long, long time,” Macy answered.

“Me either,” Grace and Sarah said at the same time.





Chapter Eight


Happy first day of spring,” Claud called out as he pushed open the door to the doughnut shop that morning. “March came in like a lamb, which means in a little more than a week, it’ll be going out like a lion. But last evening the sky was red, and the old saying goes ‘Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.’ I’m not a sailor, but I do like to fish, so I’m going to take that as a sign.”

“We’ll gladly take the month going out like a lamb instead of the lion.” Grace filled three mugs with coffee and carried them to their regular table. “I’ve dealt with enough lions these past few days.”

“We’ve still got time for a tornado or two by the end of the month,” Ira warned.

Grace set a mug in front of each of the men. “Maybe I’ll have a few days of peace between now and then. What can I get you guys today?”

“Just mix up a dozen and set them in the middle of the table. I’ll treat these two old codgers today and take what we don’t eat home with me,” Frankie answered. “But be sure to put three of those with maple icing on them in the box, or we’ll fight over them. And Grace, darlin’, we’ve been downwind from all the rumors. The waters could get rough, if you know what I mean.”

“I do, and we’re ready for whatever life—or the universe, as the kids call it today—throws at us,” Grace assured them.

“How’s Macy holding up?” Ira asked. “That sweet lady didn’t deserve all this.”

“She’s tough on the outside,” Grace said in a low voice, “but this hasn’t been easy on her. Neal—or whoever he is—really pulled the wool over her eyes.”

“It’s a good thing he and that woman left town, or the three of us might have been tempted to tar and feather them and ride them out on a rail,” Frankie said.

Claud shook his head slowly. “Makes a body wonder what kind of heart is in a person that would make them hurt other folks. If there’s anything at all we can do to help, just name it.”

“Thank you for that,” Grace said with a smile.

“We mean it,” Ira said. “Just give us a holler if we can do anything.”

“Will do.” Grace had started back toward the counter when the shop bell let her know someone else was out and about at five o’clock in the morning. She turned to see Travis coming through the door. Today she took a long look at him. He was over six feet tall and had dark hair perfectly feathered back and brown eyes behind black-rimmed glasses. The cut of his trousers and buttoned-up shirt left no doubt that they were tailor-made to fit his frame. No wonder she was attracted to him—most women probably gave him a second look.

Travis caught her eye and nodded toward her. “Good mornin’, Miz Dalton. Would you please bring me a cup of coffee and put whatever those guys ordered on my ticket this morning?”

“I sure can.” She turned and rounded the end of the counter. The sparks that bounced around between them annoyed her. This was the wrong time to get involved in any capacity with anyone—and besides, he was only there to try to talk them into selling the business, not for any physical attraction.

She poured his coffee and carried it across the room. Her reflection in the glass door as she passed by it almost made her giggle. Those little vibes were just the result of having been alone for so many years. Travis might be rich, but she and her sister and cousin were very comfortable financially, so she dang sure didn’t need to sell her shop and land.

She set his coffee in front of him. “There you go. Enjoy your breakfast.”

“I heard what happened with Neal, and I feel that I owe you and your family an apology,” Travis said in a low voice only for her ears. “I vetted him, but evidently he’s quite the con artist. However, I am still interested in talking to you about this shop, or maybe about putting in a mass-production bakery.”

“Still not for sale, and I wouldn’t know anything about a factory,” Grace said and walked away.

“Good morning, Grace,” Lisa said as she and Carlita pushed their way into the shop and quickly claimed a table. “Bring us two decaf coffees and a dozen glazed doughnuts.”

The twinge Grace had felt when she saw Travis and now the aggravation of having to deal with those two women sure didn’t sit well with her this morning. She would have far rather kicked them out the door than wait on them, but she poured two mugs of coffee and filled a box with doughnuts.

“Enjoy,” she said when she set their order on the table.

“How is Macy doing?” Lisa asked before Grace could get away.

“The poor darling. I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s going through.” Carlita’s expression was sincere, but it didn’t fool Grace.

You would get some firsthand experience about what she’s going through if you kept better tabs on your husband, Grace thought, but you’ve got your head in the sand and your skinny butt stuck straight up in the air.