just need help getting it down from the top shelf.”
Maddy looked across the aisle and felt her face go red-hot. Laura Jessup was smiling at an employee, pointing at a crib set on a high shelf. She was everything Maddy wasn’t, it seemed—petite, red haired, creamy complexioned, young.
And carrying Maddy’s husband’s baby. There was no mistaking the roundness at her middle. At Maddy’s best guess, Laura had to be close to seven, eight months along. Not that she was about to ask the exact due date. Gavin had died five months ago, which meant that he’d been seeing Laura pretty much since she’d showed up in town last spring.
With the plastic case containing the comforter in hand, Laura turned around and caught Maddy staring at her. For a brief second she looked embarrassed and awkward, but then she put on an uncertain smile. “Madison,” she began, and started walking toward Maddy.
Hell, no, Maddy thought, her throat tightening and heart pounding. This is not going to happen.
She wasn’t going to have a panic attack, but it was damned close, and she hustled the cart across to housewares, down the center and straight to the cash registers.
A quick glance behind her as she put her items on the belt reassured her that Laura hadn’t followed her. Thank God. Maddy wasn’t interested in anything Laura had to say.
“Is that all today, Mrs. Wallace?”
She nodded at the girl behind the counter. Young and fresh faced and wearing a Santa hat, she looked innocent and happy. “Yes, that’s it, Stephanie. Thanks.”
“It’s forty-one dollars and ten cents,” Stephanie said, and Maddy dug out the extra dollar and change. She’d stayed pretty close to budget after all.
“Is the library still having the tree lighting?” the cashier asked, chatting as if unaware that Maddy wanted to be just about anywhere else right now.
“Yes, on the thirteenth,” she answered. “To kick off Snowflake Days.”
“It’s so much fun every year. Last year when I went, I—”
Maddy grabbed the shopping bags and flashed a hurried smile. “Sorry, Stephanie. I was supposed to pick up the boys ten minutes ago. I’ve gotta run.”
“Oh, sure, Mrs. Wallace. Have a nice day.”
The air outside the store was bitter, a distinct change from the crisp bite of earlier. It felt as if snow was in the air. She’d like to get home before it started, since she didn’t have her winter tires on yet. She should probably do that soon...
“Afternoon, Maddy.”
She had her head stuck in the trunk, stowing the bags, and the sound of her name being spoken prompted her to stand up too quickly and smack her head on the hood.
She now understood why people called it seeing stars. Little dots swam in front of her eyes as she held on to the lip of the trunk for support.
“Whoa, there!” A strong hand gripped her arm, steadying her. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Sorry about that.”
She blinked a few times and her vision cleared, though the pain was still sharp in her head. Cole Hudson stood before her, a frown of concern on his handsome face.
“I’m fine. You just scared me, is all.” She pushed away from the car, and then reached for the hood, giving it a good slam.
“Maddy, hold still.” He reached into his pocket and took out a handkerchief. “I think you cut your head.”
Now that he mentioned it, there was a funny feeling on the right side of her head, as if a raindrop had fallen on her hair and was trickling toward her ear.
He reached forward and pressed the cotton to her head with a firm but gentle touch. “Wow, you really smacked it.”
He took the handkerchief away and she saw a decent-sized blot of blood. “I’ve been preoccupied all day,” she admitted, letting out a breath. “And I’m late to pick up the boys.” It was a white lie, but he didn’t know that. It sounded better than I’m running away from my husband’s mistress.
“I want to make sure you’re all right first,” Cole insisted. “Or I could drive you over there myself. They at your folks’ place?”
“No, at the day care. I can’t expect Mom to keep them all the time, and it was a workday for me. Besides, the day care is closer.” Maddy’s mom and dad lived on a pretty lot on the other side of the river. They’d been absolutely wonderful over the past few months, but Maddy was determined to stand on her own two feet.
He dabbed at her head with the kerchief again. “It seems to be stopping. Not too deep, then. Still, it looks like you had your bell rung pretty good.”
He’d raised one eyebrow and looked slightly roguish, a small smile flirting with his lips. She couldn’t help it—she laughed a little. “So, my secret is out. Now you know I’m the world’s biggest klutz.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that big.” He was genuinely smiling at her now. “Listen, I’ve been meaning to call you. I wanted to talk to you about the festival. Why don’t we grab a coffee or something?”
It surprised her to realize that she wanted to accept. Generally she took her own tea bags or hot chocolate to the library rather than spend money on the extravagance, and she really did need to pick up the boys...though it had been a complete fabrication to say she was running late, since she was paid up until five, which was another hour and a bit away.
“I probably shouldn’t,” she said, pushing her purse straps more securely on her shoulder.
“Hey,” Cole said quietly. “When was the last time you let someone buy you a cup of coffee, huh? It’s got to be hard being a single mom. Heck, my ma raised two boys and she had my dad and she said we were exhausting. You’ve got twins...phew.”
“Great, now I’m a pity date?”
“Good Lord, woman, you’re exasperating.” Cole stepped back and tucked his hands into his jacket pockets. “I actually do want to talk to you about the festival. Over coffee sounded kind of nice, that’s all. Look, I admire all your independence and stuff, but not everything comes from pity around here. Sometimes people genuinely want to help people they care about, that’s all.”
Was he saying he cared about her? They didn’t even know each other that well. Of course, he must be speaking in far more general terms, right?
His words made her feel sheepish, too. It was no secret she had a chip on her shoulder. She’d always liked Cole. He was well-known in town, and had been only a couple of years ahead of her in school. He and Gavin had been in the same class from kindergarten right through graduation. Not that she truly trusted Gav’s judgment anymore, either.
She sighed, met Cole’s gaze. “I get defensive. I’m sorry, Cole. I was kind of stressed out when you came up behind me and then I whacked my head and you’re right about the pity thing.” She shrugged. “I tell myself every day that I should get over being bitter. It’s just hard.”
“Of course it is. And you’re bringing up two rambunctious boys on your
