folks here are neighborly and it seems like a good place to set down roots.”
Is that what he wanted to do—set down roots? Stability and responsibility were certainly fine traits to aspire to. But did that mean he’d been a drifter before he came here?
“I’m pleased to hear it.” Then, remembering that poignant mention of his sister, her smile warmed. “And if you’re looking to leave your past behind you,” she said softly, “and find a new place to belong, then you’ve come to the right place.”
At the flash of surprise in his eyes, she realized just how presumptuous that must have sounded. Embarrassed, she quickly turned to Joy and held her hand out. “Come along, pumpkin. Time to tell the dog goodbye. Thank Mr. Cooper and let’s be on our way.”
Joy obediently turned to Beans’s owner. “Thank you, Mr. Cooper. Beans is a nice doggie.” She held out her doll. “And Lulu likes him, too.”
Risking a glance his way, Verity saw that he was giving her daughter a broad smile, apparently choosing to ignore her own ill-conceived remarks of a moment ago.
“You’re welcome,” he said, executing a half bow. “Both of you. Anytime.”
Verity decided he should smile more often—it transformed his face, making him appear much more approachable. But perhaps he reserved his smiles for puppies and children.
As if to punctuate that thought, he turned back to her, his expression once more merely polite. Then he nodded and took firmer hold of his broom.
Intrigued by these contradictory glimpses of the man, and still embarrassed by her earlier words, Verity put a hand on Joy’s shoulder and gently nudged her toward Hazel’s shop.
And tried not to think too hard about the fact that she’d like to see one of those warmer smiles directed her way.
* * *
Nate Cooper swept the sidewalk in front of his shop, his thoughts focused on the mother and daughter who’d just walked away.
He glanced down and noticed Beans watching them, as well. The animal’s tail was still wagging, but much slower now. “You like that little girl, don’t you, boy?”
Beans looked up as if he understood the question, and Nate paused long enough to give him a quick scratch behind the ears. “Well, don’t worry,” he said as he straightened. “I’m pretty sure she likes you, as well.”
The little girl—Joy, her mother had called her—had certainly been taken with his four-legged companion. Her giggles had been sweet proof of that.
For just a heartbeat, she’d reminded him of Susanna. Joy’s physical resemblance to his younger sister was only superficial—honey-colored hair and a button nose—but it was the way the child had responded to Beans that had tugged at him. Susanna had loved animals with that same wholeheartedness, especially dogs.
It was surprising how, after all these years, little reminders like that could hit him in the gut with such force.
As he pushed the broom, his thoughts shifted from the child to her mother. There were definitely no bittersweet memories to ambush him when thinking of her. Quite the opposite.
This wasn’t the first time he’d noticed her since his move to Turnabout. She was a member of the small choir at the local church. Both times he’d attended the service there, he’d taken notice of her. Not at first, though. The drab widow’s weeds she wore and her dark hair had made her a shadow that the eye easily skipped past.
But all that changed the moment she began to sing. Her face took on such a luminously serene yet passionate glow, as if she truly felt every word, every note she sang. And even from where he sat he could see a fire in her large green eyes that drew him. He hadn’t been able to take his gaze off of her until the preacher began his sermon.
There’d been none of that fire in her today, though. In fact, the way she’d reacted when her daughter approached his little bit of a dog, she’d seemed nervous and something of a handwringer. Did that enchanting spark come through only when she sang?
Still, knowing it was there, he was intrigued enough to want to unearth it. And just now he’d found he liked her speaking voice too, a difficult-to-describe mix of genteel lady and country girl. There was something else he’d noticed as well, something that hadn’t been apparent until he’d seen her up close just now. Right below the left corner of her mouth was the faintest of small scars. It didn’t detract from her appearance. In fact, if anything it added an element of interest to her otherwise merely pleasant features. It also made him want to find out how she’d gotten it.
But it was when she’d relaxed enough to show him a genuine smile just now that she’d really caught his attention. The words that had accompanied her smile, however, had startled him. It was almost as if she’d understood his private yearnings.
Had she really meant what she said, or was it just some sort of polite bit of verbiage she would have said to any newcomer? And if she knew what sort of past he was trying to leave behind him, would she still have uttered those words?
She’d obviously known his name, but he had no idea what hers was. And since she hadn’t offered, he hadn’t felt it appropriate to ask.
But now he wondered—should he have asked? There’d been a time when he would have known how to carry on a polite conversation, but his social skills had grown rusty with disuse.
If he was ever going to fit in here, though, he’d need to relearn.
“I think the sidewalk is clean enough.”
Nate looked up to see Adam Barr standing there, an amused half smile on his face. Adam was the closest thing Nate had to a friend these days, and was the person to whom he owed his current toehold on stability.
Nate returned the smile. “Just enjoying the morning sunshine.”
Adam nodded and Nate knew without any exchange of words that his friend understood his meaning.
Nate leaned against the broom. “And what is the town’s esteemed banker doing on this side of the street? Checking up on me?” He was only half joking. The bank, where Adam had his office, was a block and a half in the other direction.
“Not at all.” Adam nodded toward the apothecary. “Reggie asked me to stop by Flaherty’s for her.”
Nate frowned. Reggie, Adam’s wife, was expecting their third child. “She’s not taken ill I hope.”
Adam shook his head. “No, nothing like that. It’s for Patricia. She’s developed a rash and Reggie asked me to pick up some ointment for it.” Beans had joined them now and was sniffing at Adam’s boots. The man stooped down to absently scratch the animal behind the ears. “So how is business?”
Nate shrugged. “Slow. I sold a bridle Monday and yesterday Ed Strickland brought in a harness for me to mend.” He tightened his hold on the broom handle. “But it’s only my third day so I didn’t expect a rush of business just yet.” But it would need to pick up soon if he was going to pay his bills.
Adam nodded toward the display window. “I imagine that’s getting you some interest.”
Nate glanced at the item Adam was referring to and felt a small tug of pride. It was a saddle—one of the few possessions he’d brought with him to Turnabout. He’d made it himself and spent a lot of time and effort on it. The display piece was a visible testament to his skill as a saddler. “I’ve had a few inquiries, but nothing serious yet.”
“I predict it will catch just the right eye soon.” Then Adam glanced ahead. “Looks like Mr. Flaherty is opening his doors, so I’ll let you get back to your sweeping.” And with a nod, Adam headed for the apothecary.
Nate brushed the broom over the sidewalk one last time, his thoughts still with his friend. When Adam had invited him to move here to Turnabout, he’d described the town as a good place for fresh starts, something