Helen Myers - Almost a Hometown Bride

Leaving on a kitchen light and a lamp near the aquarium for Wanda and Willy, she leaned down to the glass. “It should be an early night. Not to worry.”

Outside, the stairs were already treacherous and covered with snow. Merritt tugged the shawl over her head farther down to protect her face and vision and made the descent with care, hugging the carrier like a baby. The wind was trying to turn it into a sail and lift her off the ground. Although it wasn’t yet officially sunset, it was already growing dark. Locals and the errant vacationer would come to the café due to these awful conditions, which was the only reason she plodded on.

When she reached the road, she saw that her trail, even the truck’s tire treads, were covered by new snow. Yes, she would make it to town, but could she make it home later? She hoped the few snowplows in the area were at least keeping downtown in navigable condition.

No more than a few dozen yards up the road, she heard the sound of a vehicle behind her. As she turned, she tried to identify the vehicle, hoping to get a lift the rest of the way—or, if it was a stranger, to have time to jump aside and not be hit. Surely the driver would see her bright red shawl?

The same beaten-up, black pickup that had been parked in front of her house earlier today slowed and stopped beside her. Cain leaned over and shoved the passenger door open for her.

“Get in,” he yelled above the wind and motor.

Relieved beyond words, Merritt planted her thermal tote on the floorboard and then hoisted herself into the truck. It probably wasn’t a graceful maneuver, but she wasn’t auditioning for anything. “I’m grateful, Mr. Paxton—Cain. I didn’t think you’d be back this way again. At least not today.”

“Neither did I. I almost turned into your yard when I saw lights on, but then I spotted you up here. You are one stubborn woman.”

“I like to think of myself as a responsible employee.”

“Who takes foolish risks. You know you’d be less challenge to a wolf than a deer would be, even in this weather. I will admit you smell better than this lousy truck, though,” he added. “I take it the baking was successful?”

“If you’ll come inside for a few minutes when we reach the café, I’ll get you a cup of coffee and a couple of my fresh rolls with herb butter as a thank-you for coming to my aid.”

“I’ll take you up on that offer.”

His acceptance and the odd, weary note in his voice drew her attention. “So why are you heading back to town? Didn’t you find your grandmother?”

“I did. She’s dead.”

Merritt didn’t gasp, but all of her major organs reacted as though she had. “Oh, I am—” She paused realizing she’d been saying “sorry” incessantly to him today. “Sincere condolences,” she managed, although the words sounded awkward to her ears. No telling how inane they must sound to him.

After several seconds he murmured, “Thanks.”

“Was there someone to fill you in on what happened and when?” She hoped that he hadn’t walked into an empty house and been forced to come to his own conclusions.

“Yeah, a cousin. It happened a year ago. Pneumonia. She wouldn’t go to the clinic, not that it would have done any good at her age.”

Merritt wasn’t one to run to a doctor herself. She could only imagine how difficult the choice would be for someone who had no reason to trust another culture’s medicine or didn’t have the funds. “What will you do now?”

“Get you to work. Have another warm meal.”

Sometimes it was a good thing to deal with only one detail at a time. She knew that from her own experience. But a million questions flooded her mind. Was there no one else to welcome him home? The cousin’s parents? Siblings? Considering the weather, did no one have room to put him up for the night?

“I’ll seat you in the same place if you like and make sure you get seconds of whatever you’d like.”

“Don’t get any ideas about turning me into your personal charity case.”

And he called her stubborn? “Believe me, I can’t afford to adopt you, and I have better things to do with my time than to beg you to accept my help so I can feel good about myself.”

“Good.”

As they rounded the curve, the lights of town came into view if not the buildings themselves. Merritt refused to speak again, having no desire to irritate what had to be a sore wound, or to be rebuked. She was curious as to where he would go after he ate—if he agreed to eat now. There was no motel in town, not even a bed-and-breakfast.

There were several cars already parked in front of the café. It would appear that a number of the shop owners had closed early, eager for a hot meal. None of them knew if there would be electricity at their homes so they could cook for themselves. A few were likely to spend the night in their own storage rooms on a cot.

With no parking place available, Cain simply stopped behind those parked to let her out. Merritt could tell he had changed his mind about coming in.

“Park in back,” she told him. “I can let you in from the rear and you can eat in the pantry-storage room. That’s where we take our breaks when it’s slow.”

Cain shook his head. He was focusing on a state police vehicle beside a sheriff’s car. “I guess I’ll pass. See you around.”

Knowing it was a waste of her time to argue, Merritt scooped the tote into her arms. “The offer stands,” she said before sliding gingerly to the ground. It took all of her body to slam the door shut; the wind was right in her face. She couldn’t blame him for being reluctant to take on the law on his first day back, whether or not the people inside were the officers who’d arrested him. He was probably thinking of Nikki being there and ratting on how she was getting him a free meal in back.

Merritt thought about going around back herself, but it was dark and the footing could be treacherous depending on what Leroy had temporarily stacked in the alley. So she paused at the front door to stomp the excess snow off her boots and try to brush what she could from her shawl and jacket. By then Mr. Forrester, the independent insurance agent, came to hold the door open for her.

“Have to help the girl with the goods,” he said, although he grimaced as his good deed earned him a face full of snow.

Others in the place turned and a few applauded. One pragmatic person hollered, “Shut the door! Draft!”

“I just served the last of your corn bread, sweetie,” Nikki told her while taking an order at the start of her usual section. “I hope you have more.”

Merritt responded with an enigmatic look. Nikki hoped she hadn’t remembered or had run out of time. The young woman, who had changed into a lower-cut blouse for the evening shift, was as transparent as she was shallow. When she wasn’t consumed with her own interests, she was undermining the other waitresses. The only time she noticed anyone else was if it was in her best interest to make a good impression in front of a customer, like now, or she was trying to figure out someone she saw as competition. While she was semi-living with Paxton ranch foreman Josh Bevans, Nikki made no bones about looking for a one-way ticket out of Almost. Preferably out of Montana. She honestly believed she was meant for bigger and better things.

“Any fried pies in there?” Sam Hughes asked. He owed the pharmacy at the other end of their block.

With an apologetic shake of her head, Merritt said, “Not tonight. I had some stove repair to deal with. Your favorite is chocolate, right? I’ll get some made by tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

“You’re a sweetheart, Merritt.”

“And a Goody Two-shoes,” Nikki murmured as she brushed past her on her way to take an order ticket to the kitchen.