Gwen had accepted her apology. They’d shared the bottle of wine, they’d eaten the chocolate and they’d forged the beginnings of a new friendship.
He reached out, touched her cheek with the back of one finger. ‘Good.’ Then he stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘Time for me to get back to work. I’ll see you ladies later.’
He turned, left the shop and disappeared. Only then did Jaz realise he hadn’t given her time to thank him. He hadn’t given her time to refuse his kindness either. She reached up to touch the spot on her cheek where his finger had lingered for the briefest, loveliest moment.
‘Come along, Jaz. We’ve no time for mooning.’
Mooning? Who was mooning? ‘I’m not mooning!’
She gulped. Mrs Lavender was right. She had no time for mooning. Absolutely no time at all.
But that afternoon, before it was time to close the shop and walk Melly home, Jaz’s painting supplies were delivered to the bookshop. Connor must’ve searched through her boxes until he’d found everything she’d need to paint her portrait of Frieda.
She carried the box through to the stockroom, rested her cheek against it for a moment, before setting it to the floor and walking away. It didn’t mean anything.
* * *
‘Have you thought any more about telling your daddy about Mrs Benedict?’ Jaz asked Melanie as she walked her to Mrs Benedict’s front gate that afternoon.
The child drew herself up as if reciting a lesson. ‘I’m not to worry Daddy about domestic matters. He has enough to worry about.’
‘Domestic matters?’
‘It means household stuff, money and babysitters,’ Melly said, rattling each item off as if she’d learned them by heart. ‘I checked,’ she confided. ‘So I’d get it right.’
‘Did Daddy tell you not to worry him about domestic matters?’ No matter how hard she tried, Jaz could not hear those words emerging from Connor’s mouth.
‘Grandma did.’
Jaz wondered if she’d go to hell for pumping a child so shamelessly for information. It wasn’t for her own benefit, she reminded herself. It was for Melanie’s. She wanted the child safe and happy. She couldn’t even explain why, except she saw her younger self in Melanie.
That and the fact that Melanie was Connor’s child. The kind of child she’d once dreamed of having with Connor.
Which made her sound like some kind of sick stalker! She wasn’t. She just wanted to do something …good.
‘I think your daddy would be very sad to hear you say that.’
‘Why?’
‘I think he’d be very interested in everything you do and think, even the domestic ones.’
‘Nuh-uh.’ The child stuck her chin out and glared at the footpath. ‘He was supposed to take me out on the skyway on Saturday, but he didn’t coz he had to work.’
Connor had broken a date with his daughter to work on the sign for Jaz’s shop!
‘Grandma made me promise not to nag him to take me Sunday because she said he’d be tired from working so hard and would need to rest.’
‘That was very thoughtful of you.’
Melly glanced up, spearing Jaz with a gaze that touched her to the quick. ‘I don’t think he needs to work so hard, do you?’
Jaz thought it wiser not to answer that question. ‘Perhaps you should tell him you think he’s working too hard.’
Melanie shook her head and glanced away. Jaz wondered what else Grandma had made Melanie promise.
‘Order, everyone. Order!’
Connor winced. Gordon Sears had a voice that could cut through rock when he was calling a meeting to order. Connor shifted on his seat. Beside him, Richard half-grinned, half-grimaced in sympathy.
‘Now, are we all agreed on the winter plantings for the nature strip?’
There were some mutterings, but a show of hands decided the matter. Connor marvelled that it could take so long to decide in favour of hyacinths over daffodils. Personally, he’d have chosen the daffodils, but he didn’t much care. It certainly hadn’t warranted half an hour’s heated debate.
He glanced at his watch. It was almost Mel’s bedtime. He hoped his father was coping okay. He tapped his foot against the floor. He didn’t like leaving Mel with his parents two nights running. With his mother mostly confined to a wheelchair these days, he considered it too much work for his father. But Russell Reed adored his granddaughter. Mel put a bounce in the older man’s step. Connor couldn’t deny him that.
When they’d heard Connor was thinking of attending this evening’s town meeting, they’d insisted Mel spend the night with them. He bit back a sigh. It was probably for the best. He’d miss reading Mel her bedtime story, but it had started to become all too apparent that Mel hungered for a female influence in her life—a female role model. He’d seen the way she watched the girls at school with their mothers and his heart ached for her.
He was hoping his own mother’s presence would help plug that particular hole. At least it gave Mel a woman to confide in.
She needs a younger woman. He pushed that thought away. Two women had left him without backwards glances. He wasn’t going through that again, and he sure as hell wasn’t risking his daughter’s heart and happiness to some fly-by-night. He and Mel, they’d keep muddling along.
‘Now, to the last item on the agenda.’
That rock-cracking voice had Connor wincing again. Richard rolled his eyes at Mr Sears’s self-importance. Connor nodded in silent agreement.
‘Now, I believe most of you will agree with me when I say we most certainly do not want a tattoo parlour polluting the streets of Clara Falls. Those of you who are in favour of such an abomination, please put forward your arguments now.’
Mr Sears glared around the room. Connor shifted forward on his seat, rested his arms on his knees. This was the reason he’d come tonight.
Nobody put forward an argument for a tattoo parlour in Clara Falls, and Connor listened with growing anger to the plan outlined by Gordon Sears to halt the likelihood of any such development occurring in the future.
Finally, he could stand it no longer. ‘I don’t know if this has escaped everyone’s notice or not,’ he said, climbing to his feet, ‘but you can’t block a nonexistent development.’
Mr Sears puffed up. ‘That’s just semantics!’
‘No,’ Connor drawled. ‘It’s law.’
‘This town has every right to make its feelings known on the subject.’
Connor planted his feet. ‘If you approach Jaz Harper with this viciousness—’
