“I would like you to put it in writing,” she said. “Guarantee the time the car will be ready and the price,” she added. “Then sign it.”
“All right. I’ll do it,” he promised as he turned and went inside the shop. He came back out a minute later with a pad and a pen. He leaned against the car as he wrote and signed the guarantee. He even dated it without being asked.
“Satisfied?” he asked after he’d given her the paper and she’d read it.
She nodded. “I’ll be back here at noon tomorrow. Don’t disappoint me.”
“What are you gonna do? Hurt me?”
“I might.” She started to walk away.
“Hold on now.”
“Yes?”
“You’ve got to eat sometime. What about having dinner with me?”
She attempted to be gracious as she declined his invitation. She even went so far as to thank him for inviting her. He seemed placated when she left him.
Her steps slowed as she walked over to Jaffee’s Bistro. It was beastly hot. By the time she got there, she was dying from the heat and the humidity. How did the residents of Serenity stand it? The temperature on the thermometer outside the restaurant registered ninety-eight.
Angela was carrying a plate to one of the tables when Jordan walked in.
“Hey, Jordan.”
“Hey, Angela.” Good Lord, now she was beginning to sound like a local. The realization made her smile.
“You want your usual table? Let me just clear it for you.”
The restaurant was nearly full, and all the customers watched her as she made her way to the corner table. They were obviously curious about outsiders.
“Are you in a hurry, or can you do with iced tea for a little bit?”
“I can wait, and tea would be great.”
Angela brought the drink right away and then went back to helping the other customers while Jordan looked over the menu. When she had decided on a chicken salad, she put the menu down, opened her laptop and turned it on, and then spread out some of the research papers so she could start reading.
She made notes while she read so she could check the professor’s research when she got back to Boston.
“Your fingers are flying over those keys,” Angela said. “Am I interrupting your train of thought?”
“No, you’re not,” she said, glancing up from the screen.
“What were you doing?”
“I had been making notes, but just now I was merging my calendar with a spreadsheet. Nothing important,” she added as she closed the laptop.
“So you must know a lot about computers…you know, how they work and all.”
“Yes,” she answered. “I work with computers.”
“Jaffee’s got to meet you. He’s got a computer, but it won’t work right. Maybe you could answer a couple of questions for him after you have your lunch.”
“I’d be happy to help,” she said.
The restaurant had emptied by the time she finished her salad. Angela came out from the kitchen with the owner. She made the introductions, and Jordan complimented him on the restaurant.
“It’s a charming place,” she said.
“It’s named after me of course,” he told her with a grin. “My first name’s Vernon, but everyone likes to call me just plain Jaffee. I like it too,” he admitted. “Where are you from, Jordan Buchanan?” Jaffee had a wonderful twang in his voice, like a guitar string being plucked.
“Boston,” she replied. “What about you? Did you grow up in Serenity, or are you a transplant like Angela?”
“Transplant,” he replied, flashing a smile. “From another tiny town you’ve probably never heard of. I did a spell in San Antonio. That’s where I met my wife, Lily. She worked at the same restaurant, and you know…we kind of clicked. We’ve been married fourteen years, and we’re still clicking. What’s the weather like in Boston? Does it get as hot as it does here?”
The conversation about the heat lasted a good ten minutes. Jordan didn’t know anyone, aside from a meteorologist, who was more interested in the weather than Jaffee.
“Mind if I sit with you a spell?” he asked as he pulled out a chair across from her and sat down. “Angela said you wouldn’t mind answering some questions about computers.”
“I don’t mind at all,” she said.
“Did you like your salad? City girls always like salads, don’t they?”
She laughed. “This city girl does.”
Jaffee was such a nice man, and he was definitely in the mood to chat.
“I had quite a crowd here for breakfast. Always do. I don’t have half that many for lunch. Truth is, I barely break even in the summer months, even serving dinner, but come fall I do a real nice business. My wife has to come in and help out then. My chocolate cake is famous around here. I expect folks will come dribbling in later this afternoon for a slice or two. Don’t you worry though. I already put back a slice for you.”
She thought he was going to get up when he shifted in his chair. She reached for one of her folders so she could read another outrageous story about the saintly MacKennas and the demonic Buchanans.
Jaffee wasn’t going anywhere. He was merely getting comfortable. “Chocolate cake is how I ended up owning this coffee shop.”
She put the folder down and gave him her full attention. “How did that happen?”
“Trumbo Motors,” he said. “Dave Trumbo to be exact. He owns a dealership in Bourbon, which is about forty miles from here. Anyway, Dave and his wife, Suzanne, were vacationing in San Antonio, and they had dinner in the restaurant where I was working. I’d made my chocolate cake, and boy oh boy, did he take to it. He had three slices before his wife made him stop.” He laughed then. “He’s got a real love for chocolate, but Suzanne won’t let him have it very often. She worries about his cholesterol and such. Anyway,” he continued, “Dave couldn’t get that cake out of his mind, and he sure didn’t want to have to drive all the way to San Antonio, which as you know is quite a trek from here. So what did he do? He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. First of all he told me about Serenity and how there wasn’t a good restaurant to speak of, and then he told me he went to his good friend Eli Whitaker. Eli’s a rich rancher who’s always looking for a good investment. Dave convinced him to give me start-up money. Eli owns this building, but I don’t have to pay rent until I start making a big enough profit. He’s what we call a silent partner. He rarely looks at the books, and some months when I get my bank statement, I see there’s been a deposit made into the account. He won’t own up to it, but I know he or maybe Trumbo is putting the extra money in.”
“They sound like good men,” she said.
“Oh, they are,” Jaffee replied. “Eli’s a bit of a recluse. He comes in here a lot, but I don’t think he’s left Serenity since he settled here fifteen years ago. You just might get to meet him this afternoon. Dave’s bringing him his new truck. Eli buys a new one every year.”
Jordan thought Jaffee was about to get up, so she reached for the folder again.
“Dave’s our best advertisement. The man loves his chocolate, and lots of folks come in because Dave told them how good the food is.”
“Does Trumbo Motors have a good mechanic?”
“They sure do. More than one.” Jaffee chuckled. “I heard Lloyd was giving you a hard time.”
Her eyes widened. “You did? How did you hear that?”
“This is a small town, and people like to talk.”
“And they’ve been talking about me?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.
“Oh my, yes. You’re the talk of the town. Beautiful woman like you coming here, not putting on any airs at all, talking to ordinary folks.”
She couldn’t imagine whom he was talking about. She certainly didn’t feel beautiful. And what ordinary folks had she talked to, and what did he mean by ordinary?
“You look flabbergasted,” he said, grinning. “It’s different here than Boston. We like to think we’re more friendly, but the fact is we’re nosy. You get used to it, everyone knowing everyone else’s business. I’ll tell you what, when Dave gets here with Eli’s truck, he’ll come in for cake, and I’ll introduce you. I’ll bet good money he already knows about your car situation.”
“But you said he lives in another town…”
“He does,” he said. “He lives in Bourbon, but everyone in Serenity buys their cars and trucks from him. He’s got the best dealership around. I keep telling him he ought to go on television to advertise like those city fellas do, but he says no, he doesn’t want his picture taken. He’s camera shy I guess, and he likes dealing with the local folks. He’s always coming over to Serenity. His wife gets her hair and nails done over here too, so she hears the latest news from the other ladies in the beauty shop.”
Jaffee finally got around to his computer questions, and when Jordan explained what various commands were for, he seemed satisfied. He went back to the kitchen to start a sauce, but Jordan kept thinking about life in a small town. It would drive her nuts if everyone knew what everyone else was doing. Then she thought about her family, and she realized she already lived that life.
All six brothers were loving, sweet, and horribly intrusive. Maybe they had learned to interfere because of their jobs. Four were in law enforcement, though she probably shouldn’t count Theo because he worked for the Justice Department, and unlike Nick and Dylan and Alec, Theo didn’t carry a gun all the time. They were used to snooping into other people’s lives—but then again, as far back as she could remember, they always made sure they knew what she and her sister were up to. They used to scare the heck out of her high school dates. She would complain to her father, but that never did any good, and she thought that secretly he was on her brothers’ side.
Big families were just like small towns. No doubt about it. Just like the Highland clans she was reading about. According to the professor’s research material, the Buchanans were always interfering. They seemed to know every little thing the MacKennas did, and every little thing made them mad as hornets. They never forgot a slight. Jordan couldn’t imagine how they kept track of all the feuds going on.
Papers were spread out all over the table. She was trying to decipher some notes the professor had made in the margins. They didn’t make sense—numbers, names, dollar signs, and other symbols randomly scribbled. Was that a crown? Some of the numbers could be dates. Had something important happened in 1284?
She heard Jaffee laughing and looked up just as he came out of the kitchen. A man followed carrying a dinner plate with a huge slice of chocolate cake. Had to be Dave Trumbo.
The big man strode toward her with an air of self-confidence. His face was hard, as though each feature had been carved in stone. His shoulders were broad, and from the way he was dressed in a crisp white shirt, striped tie, dark gray pants, and black loafers, she knew he took time and care with his appearance. Trumbo was what her mother would call dapper. He removed his designer sunglasses and chuckled over something Jaffee had said.
He had a winning smile and an easy way about him. He looked her right in the eye as he shook her hand and told her how nice it was to meet her. Oh, he was smooth all right. She didn’t have to ask if he’d lived in Texas all his life. Dapper Dave had a slow Texas drawl. Noah was born in Texas and would occasionally slip into that drawl too, she remembered, especially when he was being flirtatious.
“Jaffee told me you were having some trouble with Lloyd, and I’m real sorry to hear it. If you want, I could have a talk with him. If he doesn’t cooperate, I’ll tell you what. I could have your car towed over to Bourbon and one of my mechanics could put it back together for you. It’s a shame you can’t just trade it in for a new car. I’ve got a deal on a brand-new Chevy Suburban no one could turn down.”
“Her car’s a rental, Dave,” Jaffee reminded him.
He nodded. “I know it is. That’s why I said it was a shame she couldn’t trade it in. You ought to go after the people who rented you that vehicle. It’s not right, doing business that way.”
Jaffee told Dave that she was from Boston, and she answered several questions about her city. Dave hadn’t been there yet, but wanted to take his family there for a vacation.
“Dave’s got a boy and a girl,” Jaffee interjected.
He nodded. “I sure do. It’s why I have to work so hard. I best eat this cake in the kitchen in case my wife happens by. She’s coming to town sometime this afternoon to get something or other done to her hair. She’s perfect the way she is, but she likes to keep up she says with the latest styles she sees in the magazines. If she sees me eating this cake, she’ll have a fit. She has me on a low-carb, low-fat, low-taste diet.” He patted his stomach. “I am getting a little thick in the middle, but this cake is worth a couple of extra miles on the treadmill.”
He didn’t look thick, he looked trim and fit. He wouldn’t stay that way though if he continued eating so much sugar. She spotted what she thought was the top of a chocolate bar wrapper sticking out of his shirt pocket. Dave did love his chocolate.
Jaffee turned to look out the front window. “Eli’s parking his truck across the street,” he said. “It looks brand-new.”
“It’s a year old this month,” Dave said. “Which is why he’s trading it in. Eli can afford any car he wants, and Lord knows, I’ve tried to get him to buy a luxury sedan, but he keeps on ordering the same pickup, just a new model, every year. He won’t even choose a different color. Always black.”
Jordan could see the rancher crossing the street. Eli Whitaker was a good-looking man—tall, dark, and admittedly handsome. She’d expected a rancher to be wearing cowboy boots and a Stetson, but he was dressed in jeans, a polo shirt, and tennis shoes.
He gave her a broad smile when Jaffee introduced her, and his hand felt warm when he shook hers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jordan,” he said.
Jaffee quickly filled him in on the reason she was in town.
“Sorry to hear about your bad luck, but if there’s a good place in the country to get stranded, I think you’ve picked the right one. You’ll find the people around Serenity just about as hospitable as they come. You let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”