Two blocks down the street he slowed enough to glance around. The town of Porter was much like other towns he’d seen. Good people. Churchgoers, businessmen who didn’t cheat their customers, families planting roots. As towns went, Porter didn’t seem so bad.
Tripp went inside the Red Rose Cafe on the corner, took a seat at a table near the front window, but didn’t look out. He needed to think.
Propping his elbows on the red-checkered table cloth, Tripp dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. No, he didn’t want to think. There was nothing to think about.
An older woman with an apron spanning her considerable girth stopped at his table. “We’ve got chicken or ham today. What will it be?”
“Both.”
Lately, all he wanted to do was eat. A craving had come over him and he couldn’t control it.
“Sure thing.” The woman disappeared into the kitchen.
Tripp scrubbed his palms over his face, refusing to think about the general store down the street he’d just left. He’d made up his mind. The whole idea was crazy. It would never work.
The image of Kaitlin Jeffers flashed into his mind. Headstrong, determined, resourceful…beautiful.
Tripp slumped in the chair. Looks meant nothing. And neither did any of those other qualities. Any woman could display them. But how many would act on them when things got tough, when plans didn’t turn out as expected?
A deep ache settled over him, old and familiar. He allowed those feelings to wash through him. It was good to be reminded, from time to time. Good not to forget.
He drew in a deep breath. For all her talk of dreams and plans, Kaitlin Jeffers would forget the whole thing at the first sign of trouble. And Tripp didn’t intend to be left behind to pick up the pieces. Again.
Belly full of chicken, ham, vegetables, corn bread and two slices of peach pie, Tripp ambled down the boardwalk. When he reached the store, he cringed; the place looked worse every time he saw it.
Reaching for the doorknob he stopped. Singing. He heard singing. Looking up and down the street Tripp saw nothing, then peered into the store through the crooked shade over the door. In the middle of the floor, all alone, Kaitlin waltzed back and forth. Gracefully she swayed, her sweet voice rising in a lovely melody.
Tripp pushed open the door and walked inside. “Did you hit your head or something while I was gone?”
“Of course not, Mr. Callihan.” She finished her dance and smiled up at him. “Don’t you know you can dance on air when your dreams come true?”
God, she looked pretty. So full of hope and wonder and optimism. Tripp rubbed his hand across his belly. How could he feel hungry again?
“Let me tell you what I’ve decided on for the store.” Kaitlin gestured toward the back wall. “I’ll put candy jars on the back counter, and along the other walls, fabric and linens. The display windows will be for the newest merchandise, of course, and in that corner I’ll put—”
“Hold on a minute. You don’t really think you can make a go of this place, do you?”
Kaitlin smiled up at him. “Mr. Callihan, that’s exactly what I intend to do, with or without your help.”
Tripp looked around the dismal store. “You believe you can turn a profit here?”
Kaitlin glided past him. “Too bad you won’t be here to share it. Unless, of course, you’ve changed your mind.”
Tripp watched her move about the store, her bustle bobbing as she thoughtfully considered each angle of the room. He cleared his throat.
“So, you know about running a store?” he asked.
She looked back over her shoulder at him. “A display of dishes and pottery would look good right inside the door, don’t you think?”
Tripp rubbed his chin. “And where do you plan to get the money to fix this place up and buy inventory?”
“From the cash that Harvey left behind. I’ve got a little money put away, too, money I’ve saved since Harvey took everything I had. It’s not enough to replace what he stole from me. But total, it’s enough to do the repairs to the store and buy the inventory. That’s all I need to get started.”
Tripp shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“It’s called investing,” Kaitlin said. “It’s not so unusual. I’ll invest in this store, earn back my money, plus make a profit—all the money I need to make my dream come true.”
“Do you really think you can do that?”
“Of course,” Kaitlin said. “And best part is that this way I can earn the money quickly. A new store will make tons of money when it first opens. There’s no other respectable way I can do that. And I’m not willing to wait years again, working for a few dollars a week.”
Tripp stepped closer. “You intend to drop everything and move here with the wild notion of running a store?”
“Running a store can hardly be called a wild notion, Mr. Callihan,” Kaitlin said. “But I suppose you’re too busy to speculate on a blossoming business opportunity like this. You already have a business, I suppose?”
“Well…no.”
“You’re working someplace special, then?”
“Not exactly.” Tripp pushed his hat higher on his forehead. “Don’t you have a family, or a job, or something?”
“If I had a family I would have asked them for money long ago and already been living my dream,” Kaitlin said. “I do have a job that I’ll be more than happy to quit.”
She nodded toward the torn curtain in the doorway along the back wall. “There’s lots of storage space for stock. We’ll need it, once word gets out that we’re here.”
Tripp glared at her, then shook his head. “This whole idea is loco, just plain loco.”
“Suit yourself, Mr. Callihan.” She shrugged. “Of course, it would be a shame for you to miss out on this opportunity, when you were so close. Maybe I can find another partner.”
“Another partner?” Tripp’s shoulders stiffened.
She brushed past him. “Yes, someone who isn’t afraid of a little hard work.”
“Now hold on a minute. I’m not afraid of hard work. Hard work has nothing to do with this.” Tripp rounded on her. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Me!” Kaitlin’s eyes widened. “You’re worried about me?”
“Hell, yes.” Tripp pointed toward the front door. “I’m not partnering with somebody who’s going to run out on me at the first sign of trouble.”
Irritated to no end, Kaitlin stretched
