On Thin Ice (4 page)

Malory nodded as she continued to fill the shakers with pepper and fought off the urge to sneeze. “I had a buyer who was in place and eager. It was enough to get me moved, and I can get myself a place here. I was thinking I’d rent for a year and then maybe I’d buy a little house.”

“I think that sounds wonderful.”

“That kinda leads to what I wanted to talk to you about. I need to get back to work. I need a job, but the only thing I know how to do is make bread and decorate cakes.” She chuckled to herself. How sad was it to have a college degree and only be able to bake? But she was good at what she did. She had to give herself some credit.

Maggie smiled as she wiped down the tops of the ketchup bottles and recapped them. “You know, we have a bakery in Aspen Creek.”

“I know. That’s part of the dilemma. I don’t know what to do.”

Maggie nodded. A sliver of a smile crossed her lips. “Esther Madison owns the bakery. She is seventy-three years old and itching for retirement. She’s been trying to dump that bakery for six years now, especially since Molly opened the coffee shop. But even she buys most of her goods from Esther. Her grandson thought he could turn it around, but he fled town within six months.”

“I didn’t mean I should buy a bakery.”

“Why not? You’re good at what you do and an opportunity is available.” Maggie narrowed her eyes. “I thought you liked owning the bakery.”

“I do. I did,” she corrected and huffed out a breath. “I hadn’t thought of buying another bakery.”

“You’ve lived in this town long enough to know the only way you make it here is to own your own business and work hard. If you’re looking for just a paycheck, you’d better be comfortable living in your daddy’s house.”

Malory knew she was right, but owning her own bakery again was a big step. She’d taken too many risks with her business in California and that bothered her. She looked up from her tray of shakers, and when Maggie’s eyes settled into hers, she sighed. “I’ll go talk to her.”

Maggie patted her hand. “I’ll tell you what.” She moved around the counter and sat down on the stool next to Malory. She took her hands in hers and smiled. “She closes shop at one in the afternoon. She comes over here by one-thirty every day for lunch before she goes back to clean up. Why don’t you plan to be here tomorrow, and I’ll introduce you.”

“I think I remember her.”

“Yes, I’m sure you do. And she’ll remember you as an eighteen year-old-girl who once spilled coffee down her when you waited her table.”

“Oh, that was her?”

“Yes.”

“Well, forget it then. I might as well go get a job at the truck stop.”

“And . . .” Maggie took her fingers to Malory’s chin and looked her in the eye as if she were a little girl. “I want in.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want in. I have money to invest, and I want to be partners with you. You could use some financial backing, no matter what you say.” She held a finger up as Malory took a breath to interject. “I own four houses, a duplex, part of the Laundromat, and this restaurant. I know business.” She smiled, obviously pleased with herself. “Now I want to own part of the bakery that will no doubt put this town on its ear.”

“Maggie, I can’t have a partner.” She choked on her words. “I don’t want your money. I can do this alone.”

Maggie straightened. “I don’t think it’s up for discussion. If you go through with this, I’m in on it. You might need me to get past Esther.” She shrugged. “You were never one to turn away a helping hand. Whatever has you spooked about it, you’d better get over it. You’re a hard worker and you’ll make your mark. But you know better than to think you can do things in this life without a helping hand.”

Malory swallowed hard. “You believe in me?”

“I’ve never not believed in you.”

“But I hate your son.”

“If you say so,” Maggie said, smiling broadly and extending her hand. “Partner?”

Malory took a moment. Partner? Partnerships seemed to be a curse to her both in life and in business. But this was Maggie Douglas. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly then lifted her hand to shake Maggie’s. “Partner.”

“Good.” Maggie stood and walked back around the counter. “She overcharges me for my rolls.”

Malory laughed and finished with the peppershakers.

“By the way, partner, you don’t happen to have any of those houses you own for rent, do you?”

Christopher drove by the restaurant on his way to the arena. He slowed to see his mother and Wil sitting at the counter.

Maggie had made it clear to him that she’d missed Wil more than she thought she could have. Each time Wil would visit and leave, a part of Maggie went with her. Like a daughter leaving, she would tell him.

He wasn’t jealous of their time together. He had that same relationship with Harvey, though obviously they didn’t hug or giggle. While Christopher was growing up, Harvey had paid a lot more attention to him than he’d ever done to Wil, but he knew that wasn’t on purpose. Harvey simply didn’t know what to do with a daughter.

Christopher thought about Wil as he pulled up in front of the arena. Malory. He almost couldn’t associate the name with her. She was a Wil. She’d been as tough as he had been growing up. Though Harvey had tried to get her into figure skating, like the other girls and her mother, she was one of the best goalies the small town ever had. She could block anything because she was so limber.

He pulled open the door and heard the music that filled the building. Sandy Stott must be training. The theme from Ice Castles blared from the speakers. Sure, it was a classic, once, but enough was enough.

She waved as he passed by the glass. He waved back. She was his mother’s age, but he wasn’t sure she knew that.

He found Harvey in his office working on the ice schedule for the following week. He nodded his head his way and then lowered it again to get back to the schedule.

“Got the Zamboni fixed. As soon as Sandy is done pretending she’s headed to the Olympics, we can clean the ice.”

Christopher laughed as he fell into the chair across from Harvey. Yeah, they were just like father and son. They thought the same way.

The stack of papers on Harvey’s desk had grown, he noticed. And in true Harvey style, the bills were in the stack to the side and the schedule for ice time was what he worked on first.

Since Christopher had been back they had threatened to turn off the power twice and he’d had to drive all the way to Grand Junction himself to get the phones turned back on. Harvey was a man of vision, but at making the ends meet he struggled.

Christopher took some pride in the fact he’d been able to help him out, though when Wil got wind of it she was sure to have a fit. The arena was going to need more than his management and his money to stay afloat. In times like these it was going to need a miracle.

“Wil’s over at Mom’s.”

“Uh-huh.” Harvey kept working.

“I thought about stopping, but they look like they’re having one of their girl talks.” Harvey nodded again without looking up. “I thought I’d see if she’d like to drive down to Denver for dinner. Has she been since she’s gotten back?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll do that.” The knock on the door made them both look up. Mac Stern stood there with his enormous equipment bag over his shoulder.

“Someone want to get Dorothy Hamill off the ice so we can play some hockey?”

“Yeah. I’ll get her. I’ll have the ice cleared in ten minutes,” Christopher promised.

Mac turned back around and walked away.

CHAPTER THREE

Malory loved talking to Maggie. She’d missed her so much when she’d lived in California. The few times a year she’d visited Aspen Creek and the few times Maggie visited them in California hadn’t been enough. Them. Malory shook her head. Well, there was no more them; only her.

She’d run through the store and was home with dinner almost finished when her father entered the house through the back door. The cold air slapped her, but she didn’t care. In one bound she was to him, kissing him on the cheek, and smiling at his dumbfounded reaction.

“Something smells good,” he said as he unzipped his coat and hung it on the rack.

“Meatloaf.”

“Haven’t had that in a while. What’s the occasion?”

“Thought you could use some real food.”

He nodded and bent down to untie his boots. “So you stopped to talk to Maggie?”

“Yep. We had a lovely conversation. Helped her fill shakers. It was like old times.” She carried a bowl of salad to the table in one hand and a bowl of mashed potatoes in the other. “I’m going to talk to Esther Madison tomorrow about buying her bakery.”

Harvey washed his hands at the sink and then sat down at the table. He hadn’t said anything, but Malory knew by the look on his face that he was confused.

She smiled as she passed him the potatoes and went about cutting the meatloaf. She told him about her plans and that she and Maggie were partners now.

“Well, you couldn’t have a better one.”

“I think you’re right.” She took a bite of meatloaf off her fork. “So are you going to tell me about you and Maggie?”

“What do you want me to tell you?”

“You are so stubborn.” She laid her hand on his arm. “I love you, Daddy. I want you to be happy.”

“I am.”

The rest of their dinner was silent, which was usual and comfortable for them.

“Wil, that was great. Thank you.” He carried his plate to the sink. “Please don’t think you have to do that every night.”

“Well, it was fun for me to do. I miss cooking for two,” she said, but her voice trailed off and she was sure he’d caught it. But it was just like her father not to ask many questions, and for that she was grateful.

She heard him curse and turned to see her father emptying his pockets onto the counter. He turned around with two sets of keys in his hand.

“I took the extra set of keys to the Zamboni. I have to go back down to the arena.”

Malory looked at her father. He was tired; the circles under his eyes were dark. The last thing he needed to do was go back to the arena. She could be the bigger person and do it for him. Yes, that meant seeing Christopher and risking him trying to get his hands on her. The thought gave her a little jolt. She shook it off. She’d promised his mother she’d try to be friends with him, and for Maggie she would do just that.

“Dad, why don’t I go? You had a really early start, and if I know you, you’ll do it all over tomorrow.”

“I’m fine,” he said as he raised his hand to his mouth and yawned.

“I see that.” Malory took one set of keys from his hand. “Here’s the deal. I’ll drop these off and come back to do the dishes. But you have to wrap up the leftovers and set the dishes in the sink to soak.”

“Wil, you don’t have to . . .” She held up her hand to cut him off. “Okay. That’s a deal.”

The lights in the arena lit the parking lot from the bay of windows at the top of the rink. The parking lot was full and Chris’s truck was parked just a few spaces away. Seeing the arena full gave Malory a chest full of pride, and even Christopher living in Aspen Creek wasn’t going to take that away from her. She parked her truck. She was sure there was a hockey game or scrimmage going on by the number of cars in the lot, and a bolt of excitement ran through her. It was likely that the age of the players did not exceed twelve. Oh, she’d been one of those players once. There was nothing like being on the ice and the entire town sitting in the stands cheering for you.

She hurried out of the truck and to the arena to catch what she could of the game.

Just as the heater above the door warmed her, so did the sounds that erupted from the stands beyond the wall that hid the rink. She hurried around until she walked down the hall and quickly found a seat among the parents in the stands.

She’d been right. The players all looked under ten years old. The puck bounced from stick to stick; you really couldn’t call it passing. Players tripped over their skates and fell randomly on the ice. Some were involved with the play of the puck some were not. Parents yelled the names of each team member, thrilled with any little play that a teammate made.

This was what Malory had missed in California. Community. Family. Belonging.

She’d watched the game for ten minutes before she noticed Christopher watching her from the team bench. A smile formed on his lips and he gave her a wave. She held up the keys, and he nodded toward the end of the rink.

Malory nodded and stepped down from her seat with the parents and headed to the edge of the rink just as the last buzzer of the game sounded.

“Team bench? What are you, the coach now?”

He smiled broadly. “Coach Chris.” He nodded at the keys in her hand. “Are you the messenger?”

“I guess I am.” She dropped the keys into his palm.

“You didn’t have to bring these all the way down.”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t a problem.”

“Just in time too,” he said as the players began to exit the ice.

“Well, I’ll let you get to cleaning ice.” She turned to leave.

“Wil.” He grabbed her arm and gently turned her back to him. “Ride with me.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“C’mon. I’ll bet it’s been a long time since you rode.” He dipped his head down so that his eyes looked at her from behind the shield of dark, long lashes.

Malory swallowed hard. “If I remember correctly there’s very little room in that seat.”

“I don’t see a problem.” His lips curled into a sexy smile.

She felt the lump in her throat, but she couldn’t help nodding. If she was looking to remember good times, riding out on the ice on the enormous machine was one of those times. And she had told Maggie she’d try to be friends with the man who stood before her grinning.

Maggie had been right. This was where they were friends, and if they were both back here, why couldn’t they be friends again? After all, her divorce had been final for a long time and any attempts at a relationship after that had failed. It would be nice to have a friend again, and one who looked at her like Christopher did couldn’t hurt.