“Just like they get to pick through us. Uh-uh, Beth. I don’t really think I’m up for that.”
“Well, we have to do something. Here we are, two wonderful women who are bright and available, and we should be having dinner with two equally as captivating men.”
“Maybe we should put an ad in the paper,” Lauren joked, then promptly scowled. “Only problem is that we’re cowards. All talk, no action.” Her eyes grew dreamy. “They say that good things come to those who wait. I’m more than willing to wait if one day some gorgeous guy who is bright and available and gentle and easygoing will walk up to me and introduce himself.”
“According to women’s lib,” Beth offered tongue-in-cheek, “we shouldn’t have to sit back and wait. We can take the bull by the horns.”
Lauren glanced over Beth’s shoulder toward the table at which a lone man sat, just finishing his dinner. He wasn’t gorgeous, but he was certainly pleasant-looking. When he looked up and caught her eye, he smiled. Curious, Beth turned also; he shared his smile with her.
“There’s your chance,” Lauren coaxed in a stage whisper filled with good-humored challenge. “I don’t want him, so he’s all yours. Go ahead. Take the bull by the horns.”
Turning back to their own table, Beth opened her menu and concentrated on its contents. Lauren followed suit. Neither woman noticed when the lone man took his check from the waitress and headed for the cash register.
Chapter Two
The second week of the shop’s existence was as promising as the first had been. Just as Lauren was wondering how she and Beth would be able to cope with the continued pace on their own, a free-lance photographer came in, peddling his wares. He was a young man—Lauren guessed him to be no more than twenty-five—and his pictures were good. He was also looking for part-time work to pay for the increasing costs of his materials and equipment. She hired him instantly, and neither she nor Beth regretted the decision. Now they could take an hour off here or there—albeit separately—to do paperwork, go out for lunch or shop through downtown Boston.
On one such occasion, a week after Jamie had signed on, Lauren returned to the shop with a new sweater in a bag under her arm and a faint pallor on her face. Beth quickly joined her in the back room. “Are you okay?”
Setting the bag on the desk, Lauren sank into a chair. “I think so. You wouldn’t believe what just happened to me, Beth. I’d bought this sweater and was walking back along Newbury Street when a car lost control and veered onto the sidewalk. I was daydreaming, feeling on top of the world, looking at my reflection as I passed store windows. I mean, I was so caught up in being happy that I wasn’t paying attention to what was going on around me. If it hadn’t been for some stranger who grabbed me out of the way in the nick of time, God only knows what would have happened!”
“Don’t think about that. You’re safe, and that’s all that matters. Was the driver drunk?”
“Who knows? He regained control of the car and went on his merry way again. Didn’t even bother to stop and make sure no one was hurt.”
“Bastard.”
“Mmm.”
“The stranger who saved you … was he cute?”
“He was a she,” Lauren snapped, but her annoyance was contrived. “And what kind of question is that to ask at a time like this?”
“Have to restore a little humor here. Just think how romantic it would have been if you’d been snatched from the hands of death by a tall, dark and handsome stranger. You could have fainted away in his arms, and he’d have lifted you, holding you ever so gently against his rock-hard chest while he gazed, smitten, upon your lovely face.”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “Oh, God.”
Beth wagged a finger at her. “Someday it might happen. Miracles are like that, y’know.”
“Is this the same woman who was putting in a plug for women’s lib not so long ago?” Lauren asked the calendar on the wall, looking back at Beth only when she felt a hand on her arm.
“Are you okay now?” The question was soft and filled with concern. “Want a cold drink or something?”
Taking a deep breath, Lauren shook her head. “I’m fine. It was after the fact, while I was walking, that the shakes set in. But I’m better now. I’d really like to get back to work. That’ll keep my mind occupied.”
It did, and by the time Lauren arrived in Lincoln that evening, she’d pretty much forgotten the incident. By the next day, it was lost amid more important and immediate activities relating to the shop.
That night she went home, changed into a T-shirt and jeans and made herself dinner, dutifully following the guidelines Richard Bowen had given her. It was an effort at times, since she seemed to be eating so much, but she’d gained three of the five pounds Richard had prescribed, and she had to agree that they looked good on her.
What with the time demands that the shop had made since her return from the Bahamas, she’d had precious little opportunity to organize her thoughts with regard to renovating the farmhouse. Now, pen and paper in hand, she walked from room to room, making lists of what she wanted to have done. The realtor who’d sold her the house had given her the names of a local contractor, a carpenter, an electrician and a plumber. Though she wasn’t about to hire any one of them without checking them out further, she wanted to have her thoughts together before arranging preliminary meetings.
After more than an hour of taking detailed notes, she put down the pen and paper and went out to the front porch. The night was clear, the moon a silver crescent in the star-studded sky. On an impulse, she wandered across the yard and stopped at its center, then tipped her head back and singled out a star to wish on.
But what did one wish for when life was already so good? She was totally healthy for the first time in many years. She had a new look, which she adored. She had a new business, and it was well on its way to becoming a success. She had a home of her own, with potential enough to keep her happy for a long, long time.
What did one wish for? Perhaps a man. Perhaps children. In time.
Lowering her head, she started slowly back toward the house. A sound caught her ear. She stopped and frowned. It was a sound of nature, yet odd. It had been distinctly unfriendly.
