“None of it is a good idea, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want a front-row seat for it all when things go down.”
Holden had had his share of bad ideas in his life, but this one might just take the cake.
“If you’re serious, I actually could use the help,” he relented. “I can’t get caught, Lance.”
“Because then Rachel Joy will finally find out that you’ve never let things go.”
That was a part of it, but not the whole story.
“I’ve got your back, buddy,” Lance assured, capping off his statement with a solid slug on his best friend’s arm. “Always. That’s something you can count on.”
Some days Holden wasn’t sure why Lance still had his back, but it was an undeserved blessing he’d forever be grateful for. And one he hoped to repay someday.
CHAPTER15
It wasn’t even noon and Rachel had reorganized the Christmas candy display twice. The morning at the market had been a quiet one. Overnight snowfall and resulting sunny skies had a tendency to slow things down on Main Street. The promise of a ride down a mountain of fresh powder lured most residents to the ski resorts, pausing things like errands and grocery runs until a later time.
“Thanks for covering Marcel’s shift, Sugar Plum. Something’s going around. That’s the third illness we’ve had this week.” Stewart Joy walked down the bread aisle carting a box of fresh loaves from the local bakery. He moved the container to his hip. “When was the last time you clocked in here?”
“High school. So at least ten years.”
“Really?” He rubbed his forehead. “No kidding? Has it been that long?”
In some ways, it felt like an eternity, and in others, just yesterday. Back then, after Rachel finished up her school day, she would head into town for the last shift of the day at the Main Street Market. And as soon as they would shut the doors to the public and close for the evening, she would sneak a gingersnap cookie from the display case, knowing they would be in the ‘day-old’ bin the following morning. It was the perfect treat to cap off a day of work at her parents’ store.
“It’s nice to see you wearing that apron. Suits you.”
She knew he intended it as a compliment, but nothing about the red apron—stitched with white, embroidered lettering—felt like it suited her. No,suitssuited Rachel. She could only imagine what her superiors at December Décor would think if they could see her now, donning the uniform of a small town grocer.
“I have to head over to Snowdrift Deli to pick up an order of meat for the cold case.” Her father lifted the loop of his apron over his head and folded it before placing it onto the counter. “Would you mind holding down the fort while I’m gone?”
“I think I can handle that,” Rachel offered with a smile.
“Thanks, Sugar Plum. And if Joe Daulton comes in, that turkey rub he’s been looking for is under the counter. Tell him it’s on the house.”
“Got it.”
Rachel watched her father skip out the entrance, his step jovial and light. Through the windows, she glimpsed him greet passersby on the sidewalk, a tip of his hat and a warm smile for each person he encountered.
Did Rachel smile at the people she passed in the halls at work? Did she greet those she sat next to on the bus or exchange pleasantries with the neighbors who lived in her building?
She’d set out for the city for a chance to become part of a bigger world, and yet, her world still felt so small. Sometimes, it was as if she was the only one in it.
Refilling the container of straws near the fountain soda machine, Rachel sighed. It would be nice to have that—to be friendly with those around you, sharing in life and laughter. But Rachel hadn’t even been that way when she’d lived in Snowdrift. As a teen, she had kept to herself unless it involved academics and achievement. She made little time for relationships, a pattern that seemed to plague her even now. Her stomach soured as she thought of the girl she once was, fearing she hadn’t come very far in the last ten years.
Moments later, the little bell above the door chimed, and a man she recognized as Joe stepped into the store. He shuffled his snow-dusted boots on the mat bearing their logo and moved further inside. Swiveling his head, his gaze searched the grocery, landing on Rachel at the checkout stand.
“Well, if it isn’t Snowdrift Summit’s big city success! Rachel Joy, is that you all grown up?”
“Hi, Mr. Daulton,” Rachel acknowledged with a grin. “How have you been, sir?”
“The good Lord’s given me another day, so I can’t complain.” His merry face lit up as he came closer. “You know, your daddy brags about you every time I stop in here. Says how well you’re doing in San Fran with that fancy job of yours. Never seen a papa as proud as that one, I tell you.”
Had her father really said all of that? The thought made something sharp catch in Rachel’s chest.
“He also said he’s holding some of that turkey seasoning for me.” He drummed his hands on the counter. “I’ve been meaning to stop in, but haven’t had the time until now.”
“Yes.” Lowering to look at the shelving beneath the register, Rachel scanned for the item. “He said he set it aside for you. Let me see if I can find it.”
