A Wedding in Apple Grove (5 page)

As Meg quietly talked about cookie recipes, he noticed the competent way she held herself, comfortable in her own skin. He admired that in others, but in Meg it was tempting as well as attractive. And it wasn't just the fact that she had a Model A pickup in her barn. Smiling, he bit into a second cookie. “I'm glad I uh… caught you today.”

She set her mug down. “I don't remember if I thanked you properly and for that I'm sorry. I should have done that right off.”

“You were distracted at the time,” he said slowly, watching the hue of her blue eyes darken to sapphire. “So was I.”

“That's no excuse. My parents taught me better than that.”

“And you're a dutiful daughter?” He could get behind that; he'd been raised the same way.

She nodded and a couple of hairpins pinged on the tabletop. He glanced up in time to see a long, silky strand caress the side of her face. Without thought, he reached out to smooth it behind her ear.

The back door slammed as a deep voice called out, “I didn't think I'd see you again so soon.”

Dan nearly jumped out of his skin and knocked over his coffee. Meg was out of her seat like a shot and snagged the paper towels, mopping up the mess. She bent forward to reach across the table and his mind went blank as the scooped neckline of her dress let him glimpse the lacy edge of her flesh-toned bra. He didn't think she realized that she'd flashed him. The no-nonsense way she cleaned up the mess and smiled at her father spoke volumes.

Joe cleared his throat and Dan's brain kicked back into gear. “I saw Meg walking alongside the road, so I offered her a ride.”

He needed to go slowly and lay the proper foundation for a relationship this time, because he sensed that there was something special about Meg and he didn't want to make the same mistakes he had with his ex.

“Meg's stubborn,” her dad said. “I'm surprised she agreed.”

Dan shrugged. “Meg seems reasonable to me; besides, I think it was the thought of walking home in those heels—or barefoot—that had her accepting my offer of a ride home.”

Joe's frown turned around and Dan noticed one side of the man's mouth twitching. Was he trying not to smile? Deciding to deflect and protect Meg from her father's grumbling, he said, “Meg showed me the Model A in the barn. I'm handy with engines and would be happy to give you a hand sometime.”

Her dad was watching him. Was he thinking about Dan's offer? Needing to sway the man, he said, “I was telling Sheriff Wallace about my Dad's 1965 Corvette—”

Joe stepped closer to the table. “Coupe or convertible?”

“Coupe.”

“Big block or fuel-injected?”

“396 Turbo-jet—”

“425 HP.” Joe nodded and sighed deeply. “I'd love to get under the hood; any chance of your dad driving it out to Apple Grove?”

Dan shook his head. “He drives it locally in sunny weather, mostly to the Tuesday night car meets where he shows it off. Guys come from miles around to drool.”

“Restored?”

“Cherry,” he answered with a grin. “I've got a picture in my wallet.”

Her father stepped around Meg, pulled a chair over, sat down, and waited for Dan to show him the picture.

“Dad likes cars almost as much as baseball,” Megan said with a smile.

Dan handed over the snapshot and looked up. “Really?” Turning toward Joe he asked the name of his favorite team.

Joe smiled at him and said, “The Cleveland Indians. Yours?”

“Diehard, third generation Yankee fan.”

Meg's father snickered. “Figures.”

“Really?”

“Well, you are from back East,” Joe said. “Now if you had that '65 'Vette with the fuel-injected 327…”

Dan laughed good-naturedly. “Carbs—you either love 'em or hate 'em.”

They were both laughing by the time Meg had poured Dan another cup of coffee and offered one to her dad. Instead of sitting down, her dad nodded toward the barn. “Want to go look under the hood?”

Dan's heart skipped a beat. “Now?”

Joe nodded and Dan knew then he'd follow the man anywhere as long as he got a good look underneath the hood of that pickup. He did a double take as he stepped outside and saw the pristine, glossy black 1950 Ford F1 pickup gleaming in the late afternoon sun. “You are one lucky man, Mr. Mulcahy.”

Joe grinned. “I've worked hard for what I've got.”

“I understand,” Dan said, distracted by the pickup in the driveway and the antique in the barn. “I intend to work even harder so that I can buy back a rookie baseball card I pawned…” his voice trailed off.
Damn. If he'd been paying attention to what he was saying, that last part wouldn't have come out.

Joe was watching him intently. “What year?”

Dan hesitated before deciding that it really didn't matter if Meg's dad knew about the damned card. At least he hadn't been shocked about pawning it. “1952.”

Joe's look intensified. “Holy shit. Don't tell me it was Mickey Mantle's!”

Dan's shoulders slumped. “Yeah. Long story. Family and a couple of exes involved—ends badly.”

The older man regarded him for a moment, glanced over his shoulder at the house, and then asked, “You coming?”

Dan grinned, glad that he'd dodged that particular bullet. “Yeah!”

Their mutual love for classic and antique cars led them to the barn first; they had plenty of time to check out the F1 later—if he didn't wear out his welcome or forget and slip up and talk about things best left unsaid. His gut told him he'd better get to his new home before it got dark, but he was car crazy and had two stellar Fords to check out, inside and out, first. Whatever problems waited for him would still be there when he arrived later.

Two hours later, he followed Joe back inside to find the kitchen empty and their coffee ice cold.

“Do you want me to brew a fresh pot?” Joe offered.

Dan hesitated; he'd love to spend more time talking cars, but knew he had to check things out and make sure he had everything he needed for the first day of his new job at Apple Grove High. “I'd like to take a rain check on the coffee. Thanks, Joe.”

“Come on back and talk cars anytime, Dan.”

They shook hands on it.

“Thanks, Joe.”

“No problem. Will we see you tomorrow at church?”

Dan paused in the doorway. “I hadn't really thought about it. I haven't even begun to unpack.”

“Service is at ten o'clock. Reverend Smith was the minister you met at the Parrish's farm. He welcomes all newcomers.”

“I'll think about it.”

“Your aunt has her special spot in the front pew opposite the pulpit.”

Dan knew then he'd better go. “All right then. See you in the morning.” He paused on the threshold. “Would you please say good-bye to Meg for me?”

“Will do.”

Instead of pausing for one last look at the gorgeous pickup in the driveway, he turned and looked up at the farmhouse to see which window had a light on. Second story, third window from the front. He caught himself staring and forced his thoughts back to square one and the plan he'd already begun outlining in his mind: get to know Meg better before he gave in to the overwhelming need to talk her into bed. Even though he would have liked a little more time to plan his strategy, tomorrow at church would be the perfect place to start.

Dan followed his aunt's directions, turning left at the end of Main Street and onto Apple Grove Road to pick her up. The sign outside made him smile.
Trudi's Garden Center
was painted in bright purple on a soft yellow sign.

Dan chuckled. “A true attention-getter.”

The building was low and long and not particularly attractive; his aunt was big on functional. There were double doors that looked like they could be left open to invite customers inside the building during warm weather.

He pulled around the back of the building and was surprised to see a vine-covered Victorian-style home and his aunt waiting by the foot of the steps to the front porch. He got out and opened the door for her.

She smiled as she patted his cheek and slid onto the passenger's seat. “It's such a treat to have family to go to church with this morning.”

“I, uh… haven't been in awhile,” he admitted. He lost one chunk of faith after his ex flushed her engagement ring and another one when he found out she'd been having a fling with his ex–best friend.

As they drove, she caught him up on the former coach's recovery. Dan was glad Coach Creed was on the mend. Dan would make sure he did everything in his power to do right by the coach's former team, now Dan's team.

“It's just up ahead,” his aunt told him. “Across the railroad tracks on the right.”

He pulled up in front of the white clapboard church with a bold sign declaring it to be the Apple Grove United Methodist Church.

He helped his aunt out of the car and into the church, where heads turned as they walked arm in arm to the front row.

Reverend Smith walked up the aisle a few minutes later and stood in front of the congregation with his arms raised, greeting his flock. When he asked if anyone was visiting or new to the congregation, his gaze settled on Dan, and the reverend motioned for Dan to stand and tell everyone his name.

Dan hesitated, but his aunt was waiting expectantly, so he stood up and smiled. “Hi, I'm Dan Eagan. I'm the new phys ed teacher at the high school. I'm taking over for Coach Creed, who I hear is on the road to recovery, thank goodness for that.”

Reverend Smith's amen was echoed by the entire church.

When the service was over, Aunt Trudi leaned toward him and said, “I'm serving during coffee hour. I hope you don't mind staying.”

He had hoped to have a minute to speak to Meg after church, not get roped into staying for the entire coffee hour, but he wasn't going to put a damper on things for his aunt. She'd gone to so much trouble helping him find and land the job in Apple Grove. He owed her a great deal and would make sure he did all he could for her, even if he had to stick around and make small talk when he could be unpacking the rest of his boxes.

Drawing in a deep breath, he followed Aunt Trudi down the aisle and into the wide room at the back of the church. There were two long folding tables, one set up with the coffee urn, milk, sugar, and mugs, and the other with sweets: donuts, coffee cake, and, his favorite, a sugar-glazed pecan ring. Everything appeared to be homemade—too bad; he really loved Entenmann's cakes. He hoped they carried his favorite brand in Apple Grove.

“Come on over here and help pass out the coffee, Daniel.”

Thus summoned, he made his way to the coffee urn and started passing out the mugs his aunt filled with fresh, hot, fragrant coffee. Dan recognized a few faces from the wedding.

“Hi, Bob.” He passed a steaming mug to Bob Stuart. “What time is the race on today?”

Bob grinned. “It's an early one, since it's on the East Coast. Things are heating up with the chase in full gear.”

Dan agreed. “I can't believe there are only a handful of races left.”

“Sounds like you're a fan.”

“I used to watch the race with my dad, but now it'll have to wait until I go back home for a visit during the school break in the spring.”

“You're welcome to come on over and watch the race with me anytime.”

“Thanks, Bob. I didn't get much unpacking done yesterday, so I'm going to have to get it all done today. How about a rain check?”

“No problem.”

“Dan Eagan,” Mrs. Parrish smiled warmly.

It was easy to return her warm smile as he handed her a cup of coffee. “How are you today?”

“Missing our Edie,” Mr. Parrish said as Dan handed him the cup his aunt just poured.

“You have your children with you for so many years,” Mrs. Parrish said. “Sometimes they drive you crazy and you can't wait for them to grow up and move out—and then they do!”

Dan's mom had said something along those lines when he'd told them of his plans to move to Ohio. Even though he'd moved out of his family home a few years back, this was much farther away. “My mom was sorry to see me move out here but understood that it was important to me to make the leap.”

“Parents will do just about anything for their kids,” Joe Mulcahy said, walking over with Mrs. Murphy close to his side.

“Good morning, Joe, Mrs. Murphy.”

The widow smiled. “Please, call me Mary.”

He handed her a mug. “Mary. Beautiful day, isn't it?”

Mary Murphy looked up at Joe and smiled, a soft sweet smile that had Dan suspecting they were a couple, even though no one seemed to refer to them as such. “It surely is. How was your first night in your new home?”

“I still need to unpack, but I really love the house. There's just something about it… it's hard to describe… it's like it has a character all its own.”

“I believe that houses absorb the personalities of those who have lived in it. The older the house, the more interesting it is.”

Dan looked at his aunt and nodded. “That's it exactly, Aunt Trudi.”

She smiled and poured another cup. “Well, hello, Megan dear.”

“Hi, Miss Trudi.”

Megan was every bit as entrancing as she'd been the day before. Her auburn hair was loose today and fell in a silky curtain past her shoulders.

“Hi, Dan.” Meg's smile lit her face. She scrunched her nose so that he had no choice but to notice her freckles.

He cleared his throat and returned the greeting. “How are you today?”

“I'm great. The sun is shining, the wind is soft, and there's a hint of fall in the air.” Their fingers brushed and the zing of electricity had his gaze locking on hers. He knew she'd felt the sparking sensation too.

She licked her lips, stared at his mouth, and said, “Thanks, Dan.”

***

Meg's skin tingled from the tips of her fingers to the soles of her feet and all because of that brief brush of skin to skin. Her stomach had an odd fluttering and she felt light-headed. Who knew that his hands would cause her body to go haywire?

“Did you sleep well?”
Now
why
did
she
ask
him
something
like
that?

His gorgeous gray eyes focused on hers. “Not really—strange house and so quiet.”

She wondered if he realized that he was staring at her mouth. Storm-gray eyes filled with emotions she recognized because they were sprinting through her own system—interest, desire, and need.

“Give it a couple of days and you'll feel right at home.”

It was hard not to be captivated by the cleft in his chin and the strong line of his jaw, but she focused on his face and not his mouth, his smile and not his lips. It wasn't easy. She finally asked as casually as she could, “What are you going to be doing the rest of today?”

He handed out one of the last few mugs of coffee and brushed his hands on the thighs of his jeans.

“I was hoping he'd be staying for lunch after church,” Aunt Trudi said.

“Oh, well I…” Dan looked down at his aunt and then back at Meg, and Meg could see the wheels turning inside his head and knew he'd be accepting his aunt's invitation, no matter what else he had planned today.

“That would be great. Let me help clean up and I'll drive you home.”

A warmth spread from the vicinity of Meg's heart all the way down to her toes. “I'm sure I'll be seeing you around town, Dan.”

“Meg, wait—”

She felt the heat from Dan's hand as it enveloped hers. Staring down, she noticed his was twice the size of hers and shades darker, as if he spent a lot of time outside. Because of the way she made her living, working for her family's handyman company, hands were important. Her father, grandfather, and great-grandfather all had wide-palmed, long-fingered hands that could finesse just about everything.

“Can I see you later tonight?”

Her throat went dry and her tongue got stuck to the roof of her mouth. Finally, she summoned up enough spit to loosen her tongue. “I'm not sure—”

Peggy McCormack chose that moment to join their conversation. “Hey, Meg, are you still coming to take a look at the backup stove at the diner?”

“Yeah,” Katie said, coming to stand beside her sister. “We're worried that we won't be able to handle all of the baking for the diner without it.”

Dan released her hand, and she sighed and looked at the McCormacks. “Sorry, I had forgotten, but I won't let you down. I'll be there and see what we can do to keep you running at full speed. Aside from Sunday afternoons, Monday's your busiest day.”

“You're the best, Meg!” Peggy said.

Meg wished she didn't feel so guilty about wanting to forego the repair and head on over to Dan's house to distract him with another heart-pumping lip-lock… maybe a make-out session. Jeez, now she was thinking like a hormonal teenager.

Dan put his hands in his front pockets and the regret in his gaze was echoed in hers. “Well, maybe I'll catch up to you tomorrow.”

“Sounds great, Dan.” Meg looked from one sister to the other. “See you.”

“Are you coming, Daniel?”

He grinned down at Meg and called out, “Right behind you, Aunt Trudi.”

***

Monday morning at half past seven, Meg and her sisters were already at the shop. When the phone rang, Meg glanced at the clock, put it on speaker, and answered it. “Mulcahy's Funeral Home, you plug 'em, we plant 'em.” Meg smiled, held the phone away from her ear, and waited for the fireworks.

“Megan Maureen Mulcahy!” her father shouted into the phone. “I told you no shenanigans when answering the telephone! Besides,” he grumbled, not quite as loudly, “it's bad for business.”

She smiled at her sisters, who were both trying not to laugh—their dad would hear them and reprimand them for acting like hooligans. With the press of a button, she turned the speaker off so she didn't get her sisters in trouble. She looked from one to the other and felt a burst of familial pride fill her.

Caitlin was dressed for another day at Mulcahy's in jeans and a black polo shirt with their logo on the breast pocket. Her sister wore her jeans snug at the hip and thigh. Meg preferred the looser fit of carpenter jeans and had taken to wearing a chambray work shirt a size larger than she needed; that way she could move without feeling restricted when she worked.

Grace, on the other hand, looked like a picture out of a fashion magazine in taupe slacks and silky blouse the color of a summer sky. Meg couldn't help but wonder how much longer they'd be able to convince the youngest of the bunch to stay on in Apple Grove. The big city beckoned to Grace in a way it never had to Meg.

“Are you listening, Megan?”

“Uh… yes, Pop.” While he listed all the reasons why she shouldn't fool around on the phone, she rolled her eyes.

Caitlin shook her head and walked past their father's massive oak desk, giving Meg a thumbs up. Before she made it to the door marked “employees only” at the back of their hole-in-the-wall office, Grace passed her a steaming mug of fresh-brewed coffee. Caitlin smiled and sipped from her mug before opening the door and heading to the storage area at the back of their shop. Meg knew her sister was going to be gathering the tools she'd need for the day. Meg would be doing the same thing as soon as she could get her dad to stop talking.

When Grace handed Meg her cup, Meg mouthed to please pick up the phone, but it was her sister's turn to roll her eyes. It had been their silent way of communicating whenever one of them was on the phone with their father, who would undoubtedly be telling them what to do, when, and how.

Grace held up her hands and walked through the same door Caitlin had. Their office on Main Street was set up shotgun style with the office at the front and their tiny kitchen behind the door at the back. Passing through the kitchen there was another door leading to the nuts and bolts of the shop, their storage area, and the parking lot.

Meg listened as her father continued to remind her of their family's reputation in Apple Grove until Meg had a chance to tell him, “I'm sorry, Pop, I just can't seem to help myself.”

His sigh of acceptance was loud and low. “Why did the Lord decide to bless me with daughters? I could have had strong, strapping sons and handed the business your great-grandfather toiled to build with his own two hands over to someone who would appreciate what they'd been given.”

Alone in the office, Meg waited a moment before speaking; she wanted to make sure her father was finished with his morning lecture. Ever since he'd retired six months ago, he called at the same time every morning, and she answered the phone the same way, every morning. It never failed to rile him or have her smiling when she went off to the first call of the day. “Now, Pop, you know we love you and have worked just as hard as any angel of a brother would.”

As if he sensed that she needed it, Joseph Mulcahy soothed, “I know, Meggie, it's my temper talking. A father couldn't have asked for better than my three darling girls.”

“I'll be heading over to Miss Trudi's today. Grace said that she called and left a message on our machine about the sump pump in her basement again.”