She always marveled at the women’s patience and hard work.
“Molly!” several exclaimed, smiles on their faces. Then they took a second look.
“Why, don’t you look pretty!” Martha exclaimed.
Merry beamed at her. “So young and fresh!”
Molly smiled at them. “Well, certainly better than I’ve been looking lately. I was so involved in fixing up the house, I forgot to fix me up!”
Emma Finklebaum asked, “What made you get all polished up today?”
Molly felt her cheeks heating up. She certainly wasn’t going to mention Quinn Spencer. Besides, she’d intended to improve herself all along. “Um, I decided I needed a more professional appearance to sell the idea of my bed-and-breakfast. After all, Ursula is trying to convince everyone I’ll be a failure. I didn’t want to help her.”
Tillie patted her hand. “Good thinking. I think you’ve made the right decision. Besides, you look so pretty!”
“You certainly do,” Bea seconded, causing Molly’s cheeks to redden even more. “Why, you might just attract a young man with that pretty smile of yours, don’t you know.”
Molly’s breath caught in her throat and she cleared it before she answered. “Um, no, I don’t think— I’m too busy with my plans to— I have no interest in men.”
Lydia Perry came in at that moment to distract her friends. Molly breathed a sigh of relief.
“Molly, dear, I’m so sorry I upset you this morning,” the lady said as she sat down.
“Oh, no, Lydia, it wasn’t your fault,” she hurriedly assured her. “I should’ve remained calm but—but I had no idea Mrs. Wilson had gone so far in her anger.”
“But did you see Amanda Trask? Did she tell you what to do?” Lydia persisted.
With all the ladies anxiously awaiting her answer, Molly couldn’t avoid mentioning the one man she wanted to forget. “Amanda is out of town, but I spoke with her partner. He’s going to look into it.”
The ladies exchanged glances and Molly wondered what they were thinking.
Bea nodded. “You can trust Quinn. He’s the sweetest boy.”
“And very smart,” Martha assured her.
“Such a dear,” Merry added, a gentle smile on her lips.
Tillie agreed. “He’s quite popular around here.”
Molly tried to fit the Quinn Spencer she knew, or rather knew about, with the ladies’ comments. But the playboy, womanizer, jet-setter and all-around man-about-town just didn’t seem “sweet” to her. “I’ve heard he’s a very good attorney.”
“Of course he is,” Martha said, patting her hand. “Don’t worry, dear, he’ll take care of you.”
Somehow, the thought of letting Quinn Spencer “take care” of her left Molly breathless.
“It’s—it’s just until Amanda returns. She should be back in town soon.” She hoped she didn’t sound as edgy as she felt.
If the ladies’ satisfied nods were to be believed, she must’ve have sounded like she had every confidence in Quinn Spencer.
Maybe she was a better actress than she’d thought.
QUINN LEFT THE MAYOR’S OFFICE the next morning, a satisfied smile on his face. The mayor had assured him the entire council was in favor of the bed-and-breakfast. Even if Ursula Wilson got the one-hundred signatures on her petition to bring it before the council, the zoning change would be approved.
He paused on the sidewalk and took a deep breath. It was one of those perfect winter days that occasionally came along, bright sunshine making everything sparkle in spite of the cold air.
Assuring himself that he was only doing so to better serve Amanda’s client, Quinn turned in the direction of Ivy Lane. A brisk walk would be good exercise, and he could personally inform Molly Blake of the good news.
He hadn’t been down Ivy Lane in a while. It was a stately avenue, lined with old homes built years ago. When he reached the Blake home, he noticed the outside of the home had been recently painted and restored.
“That must’ve cost a pretty penny,” he muttered to himself, remembering Molly Blake’s comment about her budget. At least she’d prepared for what was important. A sudden curiosity filled him about the inside. He’d visited Christopher’s home once or twice when they’d been in school. Even then the house had been showing its age.
He trod up the steps and crossed the wide porch to rap on the door. A new door, with a delicate stained-glass oval depicting flowers. With a smile on his face, he prepared himself to greet Molly Blake as the door swung open.
Shock rattled through him.
Gone was the harried, frustrated, angry woman with the messy appearance. In her place was a fashionably dressed young woman with pale blond hair feathering around her face, setting it off like a prized picture in a frame. She was dressed in trim wool pants and a blue sweater that enhanced her eyes.
He assumed the worried look on her face was the result of concern about her future. Hurriedly beginning his explanation, he was shocked again when she scarcely acknowledged his words. When she even began closing the door on him, he put out a hand to stop her.
“Wait. Do you understand, Mrs. Blake?”
“Yes, I—” She broke off as a wail floated down the stairs. She gasped and abandoned the door. “I’m coming, sweetie,” she called as she raced up the stairs.
Quinn frowned as he found himself standing alone in the entryway. He could leave. But then, if he did, he wouldn’t know what was wrong. Not his business, he argued with himself, but he didn’t leave.
Instead, he closed the door and stepped toward the stairs. Before he could ascend, Molly came back into sight at the top of the stairs, carrying a bundle in her arms.
“Is everything all right?”
She appeared surprised to find him still there. “No, my daughter is ill. I appreciate what you’ve done. I’ll—I’ll call later to discuss it. But she needs me right now.”
Quinn had kept his distance from children. And mothers. Too often, he’d seen a woman’s selfish disregard for her child’s needs. He knew how important the bed-and-breakfast was to Molly.
But not more important than her child.
A moan drifted up from the bundle in Molly’s arms. He hadn’t realized she was holding her child. She tightened her arms and murmured soothing words.
“She must be tiny,” he said with a frown, somehow drawn to the invisible child. “Have you taken her to the pediatrician?”
“I called. He can’t see her until late this afternoon.”
Quinn could tell she was trying
