She wasn’t sure why the compliments kept coming, but she appreciated them all the same. It was nice to have someone other than family acknowledge how well her kids were doing in spite of their circumstances. It gave some validity to her own assessment of their healing.
And if there was anything Trinity was sure of, it was that spending time around horses would help her daughter heal tenfold.
And for the briefest, most fleeting moment, Trinity wondered if spending time at the barn around someone like Spencer might help to heal some small portion of her own heart, too.
CHAPTER 11
“That’s all the doctor did?” Spencer stood next to the barista bar. He’d already been handed his uncomplicated black coffee, but he was waiting on Clara’s much fancier, hard-to-recite order that involved some type of nut milk and way too many flavorful syrups. “He just checked her shoulder?”
“Said some things about starting a blood pressure medication, but Nana wasn’t having any of that. You know Nana. Her idea of taking medication is an herbal tea and a brisk walk.”
“She has high blood pressure?” He should probably spend more time learning more about the medical history of his family members, considering their own father passed from a sudden heart attack years ago. It wasn’t something he ever paid much attention to, but that likely needed to change. He wasn’t getting any younger.
“Borderline high blood pressure. But the doctor thinks the medication could benefit her.”
Spencer almost felt sorry for the barista when he finally called out Clara’s complex drink order, practically running out of air by the end. Grabbing a straw from the basket nearby, Spencer picked up the cup and handed it to his sister.
“I’m glad you went with her to the appointment. Thank you for doing that.”
“Of course.” Clara made the most dramatic face when she took that first sip of her drink, as if she were swallowing pure sugar. Spencer couldn’t stand all that sweetness, but he and his sister had always been opposites. “I was happy to tag along.”
“You guys working on the quilts again today?”
“I think that’s the plan,” Clara said, then touched her brother’s arm. “Hey, want to stop into Summit Sweets while we’re here? I overheard the bridal party back at the ranch house saying something about a butterscotch mocha flavored cookie that I’d love to try.”
Spencer couldn’t understand how all of his sister’s teeth weren’t filled with cavities, but he wasn’t one to turn down a trip to Faith Porter’s bakery. She arguably made the best butter croissants, his favorite breakfast snack.
As soon as they stepped out of Bitter Cold Coffee Bar, the delicious scent from the bakery a few paces down the street met them. The door to the pastry shop was cracked open, and the mix of sugar, cinnamon, and spice wafted out to greet them like an aromatic hug. It reminded Spencer so much of his grandmother’s Christmas kitchen from when he was a young boy that the nostalgia immediately took him back to those days, standing next to her on a folding stool so he could reach the counter. He could instantly envision the pies, the cakes, the cookies.
Clara inhaled audibly, smacking her lips. “Mmm. It’s a good thing I don’t live here because I would easily eat my weight in cupcakes if I did.”
Spencer gave his sister a skeptical look. “They don’t have bakeries in Sacramento? Even when I was living at the cattle ranch out in the middle of nowhere, the nearby town had a bakery. Sure, Patty made more treats for the animals than foractual humans, but there was always a chocolate chip cookie or a brownie we could snag?—”
“Of course, we have bakeries.” Clara cut him off. “But they don’t compare to Faith’s stuff. That woman is genius when it comes to baked goods.”
Spencer couldn’t argue there. And the line that wrapped around the store and doubled almost all the way back to the entrance door was further evidence that Faith was every bit the baking magician Clara claimed. Everyone loved the place.
“I sure hope they aren’t sold out by the time we get to the front.” Clara impatiently lifted onto the tips of her toes to peer over the crowd blocking them from the pastry cases. “Ireallywant to try those butterscotch cookies.”
“Hey.” Spencer looked further up the line to see if he could peer into the glass display, but something else caught his attention. “Isn’t that Anthony?”
Spencer thought he glimpsed his sister’s ex standing in the front by the register, just about to order.
“Anthony McCullen?” he repeated, in case there was a world in which Clara didn’t remember the boy that she had been engaged to at the youthful age of eighteen.
Clara hit the floor.
“Clara?” Spencer’s gaze dropped to where his sister had flattened against the tile.
And then he was suddenly being yanked down with her, her hand grabbing tightly to his shirtsleeve. “Shhh,” she hissed. “We need to get out of here before he sees us.”
“When was the last time you two even talked?” Spencer asked at full volume. Clara slapped her hand over his mouth, her eyes wide with dread. “At least a decade, yeah?” he mumbled against her palm.
“What part ofshhhdon’t you understand?” She pleaded with him to be quiet. “The last thing I want to do is run into Anthony today. The very last thing.”
He didn’t need to know the details; if Clara was uncomfortable, Spencer would find a way to get them out of there unnoticed. It hadn’t helped that the group immediately in front of them had turned around due to the sudden commotion, but as long as their interest didn’t have a domino effect and work its way to the front of the line, they should be in the clear.
“Follow me,” Spencer instructed when Clara finally removed her silencing hand from his mouth. “I have a plan.”
