to see the problem. There was only one person to take orders, collect money and mix the fancy coffee drinks. The woman behind the counter looked a bit harried and her smile was clearly forced.
He continued to study her as he stepped into the line. A full head shorter than his six foot two. Heart-shaped face. Cute upturned nose. A mass of wild cinnamon-colored curls that hugged her cheeks.
Maybe her coffee was worth waiting in line for after all. Marriage and commitment might scare him half to death, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the company of a vivacious woman every now and then.
Women were in short supply on the ranch where he’d been living in Montana. Available women were nonexistent.
Riley inched up when the line moved and glanced around the small shop. He recognized Dan Dupree, who was sitting in the back with who were probably his grandkids. Dan and his wife had been friends of Riley’s parents before their fatal car accident.
Mrs. Maclean, Riley’s ninth-grade English teacher, was at another table with two women he didn’t recognize. Neither Dan nor Mrs. Maclean showed any sign of recognizing him.
Fortunately, he’d changed from the skinny, awkward, pimpled teenager he’d been last time he lived in Winding Creek. He’d added a few inches in height and muscled up a bit.
The door opened and four more people squeezed in and joined the line.
A freckle-faced kid with braided red hair, eyeglasses and cut-off jeans ran noisily down some back stairs that led into the bakery. She maneuvered around the sign at the foot of the stairs that read Private. Do Not Enter. Prancing like a showy filly, she made her way across the shop.
The youngster propped her elbows on the far end of the counter. “I’m bored,” she announced loud enough for everyone in the shop to hear.
“Did you finish your homework?” the busy woman asked without looking up from the display case, where she was gathering raspberry scones for her customer.
“Yes, except for the math. I hate word problems. They don’t even make sense.”
“They make sense, Constance, but I’ll help you with your homework later. I’m really busy right now. Why don’t you watch TV upstairs until Sally and her mother pick you up for the movie?”
“I’m tired of being upstairs by myself. I wanna stay down here, Aunt Dani.”
Ah, aunt. Not the kid’s mother. Made sense. She didn’t look old enough for that. He checked out the busy redhead’s ring finger. No golden band. Looking better all the time.
“Can I have a cookie?” the girl asked.
“Not before lunch. You know the rules,” the aunt answered as she added whipped cream to a coffee drink.
The kid’s hands flew to her hips. “Everybody else in here has a cookie, or a muffin, or something.”
“We’ll talk about this later, Constance.”
Constance rolled her eyes. Quite a performer and with an attitude. Call him crazy, but Riley liked that about her.
The woman in line behind Riley began to complain. “I just came in here to pick up a birthday cake I ordered a week ago for my daughter. At this rate, the party will be over before I get the cake.”
“Guess there’s a run on coffee and scones this morning,” Riley said. “But the woman’s working as fast as she can.”
“Dani needs to hire more help for her shop on Saturdays. Then she wouldn’t have to do everything herself.”
So the woman behind the counter was also the owner of Dani’s Delights. Interesting.
The next person to approach the counter gave a to-go order for four cups of plain coffee, two-flavored lattes and a mixture of pastries.
Dani was still smiling, but she had to be overwhelmed. At least the little girl was helping now, keeping the customers in line entertained with a series of funny faces.
Riley stepped out of line and walked up to the counter. “You look like you could use some help.”
“You think? I had two teenage workers not show up this morning without bothering to call in and let me know.”
“Big night in town last night?”
“Not that I know of. Anyway, sorry for the delay, but I’m moving as fast as I can.”
“I wasn’t complaining. In fact, I have a proposition that’s too good to refuse.”
“I don’t know,” she said, without looking up. “I’m extremely good at saying no.”
She bagged the pastries for the current order and started on the lattes. “What’s your offer?”
“Behind-the-counter help. I can handle pouring coffee, but I could never concoct those fancy drinks you’re making. By the way, my name’s Riley Lawrence.”
Dani looked up, a slightly surprised expression parting her full lips. “You must be Pierce’s brother.”
“Yep, but don’t hold that against me.”
“Never. Pierce is terrific and marrying my best friend. I’m sure he’s thrilled you made it here for the wedding,” she said as she went back to boxing pastries. “He was afraid you’d back out at the last minute.”
“I was a bit afraid of that myself. Actually, I haven’t made it to the Double K yet.”
“Then what in the world are you doing here?”
“Saving your beautiful ass—pardon my French. That is if you want my help.”
“You’re serious?”
“Serious as a bull on steroids.”
“I have no idea what that means, but you’ve got yourself a job.”
“How about we start two lines?” Riley suggested. “One for the people who want specialty coffees and-or want to pay with credit cards. Another line of the people who just want plain coffee or to pick up some bakery items and pay with cash.”
“You’ll handle the cash line?”
“Yep. I’ve had very limited experience with cash registers, but that one doesn’t look too complicated.”
She sighed. “It would be a tremendous help, but I can’t let you do that.”
“Afraid I’ll sneak too many cookies?”
“No. Afraid Esther will kill me for delaying your arrival at the ranch.”
The door opened again. This time a family of four came in, stretching the line around the corner.
“If the line grows any longer, you may have a mutiny on your hands.”
“Okay, but remember you asked for this. Prices are marked on the items on display,” Dani explained. “Preordered items are boxed and in the kitchen right behind us. Name of the customer and price are on the ticket taped to the top of the box. If you have any questions, just ask.”
Dani raised her voice to get everyone’s attention and explained the new lineup procedures. Someone clapped and several more joined in. They moved into the two lines with amazing order and good manners.
That was the Winding Creek he remembered.
“By the way, my name’s Dani Boatman,” she offered.
“Glad to meet you, boss.”
His first customer spoke up. “I’m picking up a dozen cupcakes for Jamie Sandler. She ordered them yesterday.”
“Coming right up.”
And with that Riley was officially on the job. He’d never sold anything in his life, except horses or cattle at an auction and admission tickets