Dakota Love (16 page)

“So congratulations on negotiations are in order?” Rodney removed his hand as they entered Sioux Falls’ city limits.

“Yes, thank you for your suggestions. We settled on a flat rate for standard long arm quilting fees. Three different flat rates for restoration projects, and they promised two quilts a month. They’re sending me a one-year contract. I wasn’t going to make any announcements until I had the contract in hand.” Caroline shrugged. “But I just couldn’t keep my happy news to myself any longer.”

“I’m glad you couldn’t, and congratulations.” Rodney’s face beamed with the same pleasure that she was sure hers wore.

“Thank you. They told me that they like to help start-up quilters because that’s how they got their business started, by displaying and selling independent quilters’ projects. You know, I’m not the only quilter they do business with. I guess their shop is popular and in a high-end tourist area.”

“It is.”

“How would you know that?” Caroline sighed and turned, as far as her seat belt would let her, toward Rodney. “Did you do an Internet search?”

With a quick glance her way, Rodney raised his brows up and down. “You have me figured out, Caroline Baker.”

“How long have you known?”

“Um…”

“Since they first contacted me?”

“No, after you told me the name of the company.”

Miffed, Caroline pursed her lips together. She knew he meant well, but…

As if reading her mind, he added, “I didn’t contact them. All I did was check them out to make sure they were reputable. The rest was all you.”

Her aggravation was fleeting. Not surprised by his confession, Caroline just shook her head. Business-mindedness was second nature to Rodney, so it made sense that he’d check things out. Besides, it was a good feeling to know someone looked out for her business’s well-being. She was a entrepreneur and, quite frankly, naive to some things, like negotiating instead of agreeing to their first set of terms.

This contract and teaching Mark’s classes provided a steady income with time to spare for taking on other quilting projects. A fact she hoped would please Jason.

Rodney guided the pickup into a parking space in front of Mark’s store. He pushed the gearshift into P
ARK
and turned to her. He raised his hand and caressed her cheek with his finger backs, then took her hand in his, only holding on to her fingers. He raised it and pressed his lips to the back of her hand. The quick gentle kiss surged her pulse.

“I am so proud of you.” His eyes conveyed his belief in her abilities.

Caroline’s heart filled with emotion. Glad a verbal response wasn’t required, Caroline knew her words would have cracked if they’d have even come out. Rodney’s actions supported a fondness deeper than friendship. She felt it, too, and thought a discussion of the topic would take place in the near future.

Not waiting for her to answer, he released her hand, then slipped from the pickup, rounded the front, and opened her door. She stepped from the cab and managed a thank-you. Their eyes met, and she knew fondness or admiration wasn’t what either of them felt. It was love.

Happiness bubbled through her, making her feel light as air, yet weak knees made it difficult to walk into Mark’s store. Granny Bea’s door jingled their entrance.

Mark looked up. “Perfect timing. I was answering some questions about your evening class. Caroline Baker, this is Sarah Buckley.”

Rodney wandered to the corner where Mark kept his display of sewing machines. Caroline hoped this distraction would steady her racing heart. Was Rodney’s interest in sewing machines his attempt to regain control over his emotions as well? She walked over to the cutting counter where Mark and Sarah stood and held her hand out to Sarah. Troubles masked Sarah’s lovely features. Caroline recognized the look. Not long ago, her own mirror reflected the same distress. Was it grief? A broken heart?

“Nice to meet you.” Sarah’s warm smile didn’t chase the gloom from her face.

“Sarah’s wondering what quilt block you’d be making at the evening class. She’s partial to Job’s Tears.”

Sarah’s surprise showed in her widened eyes.

Mark pointed to his temple. “A good shopkeeper knows what his customers like, and you keep picking up that pattern.”

Job’s Tears was a block Caroline had yet to make. Her class synopsis revolved around the Log Cabin block. They’d complete either a wall quilt or table runner with this popular block by the end of the sixth class.

Judging by the emotion she saw in Sarah’s eyes, there was a reason that Job’s Tears appealed to her. Based on Mark’s comment, he must have sensed it, too. Flexibility was the mark of a good teacher. Certain that the Job’s Tears pattern would make a wall hanging or table runner just as nice as the Log Cabin block, Caroline smiled and said, “What a coincidence. That’s the block I like to use for the evening class. It’s one of the things I’d came to talk to Mark about today.”

Mark turned his full attention to Sarah. “Can I put your name down on the sign-up sheet?”

Caroline was quite sure she’d never seen Mark smile so sweetly at a customer before. She moved to the side while Sarah signed up for the class. After Mark conversed with her a few more minutes, his eyes followed Sarah as she left the store.

Turning his attention to Caroline, Mark pulled a bolt of fabric from under his cutting counter. “Here is the special-order fabric. And thank you. What block were you really going to use?”

“Log Cabin. I’ll have to buy a Job’s Tears pattern from you and make a few practice blocks.” Caroline pulled the damaged quilt block from her tote bag and laid it on the bolt.

Mark walked over to a shelf and came back with a packaged block pattern. “This is the one she looks at. It’s on the house. Use the practice blocks to make a wall quilt and I’ll buy it from you for display.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I will.” Mark’s attention went to the plate glass window. Caroline followed his gaze. Sarah was easing her car from a parking space.

Young people didn’t corner the market on love like society convinced people. She looked from Mark to Rodney. It seemed middle-aged men’s fancy turned to love come springtime, too. Well, almost springtime.

“That fabric doesn’t match Rodney’s block at all.” Mark’s voice jarred her from her thoughts. His attention back on the matter at hand, he folded the block in half so the yellow fabric lay flush on the bolt of retro material.

Rodney joined them. “The flower pattern’s the same.”

“But the color’s off.” Mark pointed between the two fabrics. “Even though the material used in your quilt block is faded, it was always a pastel yellow, not vibrant like this one. It sure didn’t look this golden in the book.”

“It’s close enough, isn’t it?” Rodney looked to Caroline.

Before she could answer, Mark interceded. “I think we can do better. I know the name of the pattern now, so I’ll do another search for a softer yellow.”

Caroline smiled. She knew Mark wouldn’t stop until he was satisfied that he’d done all he could for a customer.

“Can you return this? If not, I’d like to pay you for it. I’d hate for you to have invested in a bolt of fabric that we didn’t use.”

Mark and Caroline laughed at the same time. Rodney looked from one to the other.

“What’s so funny?” Rodney rubbed the back of his neck.

“He runs a fabric store,” Caroline said.

Sheepishness crept into Rodney’s features as what he’d said registered.

“I invest in bolts of fabric all the time. Someone will buy this.” Mark smiled. “Don’t feel bad. You’re just out of your element. I don’t know anything about lawn care. I just mow the grass.”

“Would you keep a yard of this fabric back, just in case we can’t find anything closer?” Caroline rubbed the new fabric between her fingers, feeling the soft texture of the weave.

Mark turned over the bolt. Two times it clunked against the countertop as he flipped it to unwind the fabric from the bolt. He measured the length against the built-in yardstick on the table. Razor-sharp scissors separated thirty-six inches of fabric from the bolt. “Your wish is my command.”

“My lady,” Rodney added.

Caroline shook her head and giggled. She placed the shopping bag with the finished quilt in it on the counter. “Our business here is done. Now that there’s been a change of plans, I can’t give you the class synopsis today, so”—Caroline looked to Rodney—“how about that movie you promised?”

Slush covered Rodney’s boots as he stepped from his pickup onto the street. The sun peeked out through the parting clouds. Clearing driveways and sidewalks was the last thing he wanted to do today. He’d worked into the wee hours of the morning on a website design for an author. His website was as effective as Caroline’s in drawing business and hits. Allison gave him the heads-up on how to use keywords that would pull up in Internet search engines.

When he discovered today’s blood pressure pill was his last, he decided to stop by the pharmacy before starting his workday. The late March snow, though wet and heavy, wasn’t deep, and the mild temperatures had turned it into an icy mess.

Rodney wiped his feet on the mat in front of the store door and made his way toward the back of the building. The pharmacist glanced up from the elderly gentleman explaining his ailment and smiled a greeting at Rodney. The pharmacist stepped over to his filled prescriptions and leafed through the narrow sacks, answering all the man’s questions as he multitasked. Rodney mouthed,
thank you
, as he took the bag of pills the pharmacist offered and turned right into Jason.

Jason’s eyes narrowed and he let out a grunt. “You should watch where you’re going.”

“Excuse me.” Rodney kept his voice polite even though he suspected Jason had stood directly behind him on purpose.

“I thought you spent all your time preying on old widows.”

Rodney clenched his jaw and straightened his back. “That comment was uncalled for. I believe you owe me and your mother an apology.”

“Why, it’s true.” Jason reached around Rodney for the bag the pharmacist held out while still answering the other customer’s question. “Last I knew you spent most of your time with her. Dating.” He added air quotes as he said the last word.

Jason’s smug smile and sarcastic tone flared Rodney’s temper. He didn’t mind what Jason thought of him, but Caroline deserved better. She was his mother, after all. Yet Rodney sensed Jason was deliberately trying to goad him.

One of the first lessons Rodney learned in the ad game was not to show your anger. He’d dealt with several critical clients from time to time. He drew on that experience now.

“I guess it’s partly true. I don’t spend all my time with Caroline, but we are dating. Maybe all four of us could get together for dinner sometime.” Rodney knew how to turn the tables of anger to his opponent.

It worked. Jason gave a little snort.

“Fat chance of that happening. You are not company I want to keep. I had a father, and I know how to change my mother’s mind.” Jason stopped himself before he stabbed Rodney in the shoulder with his finger.

“Look, I don’t want to be your father, but I do enjoy your mother’s company,” Rodney whispered through clenched teeth, hoping not to draw attention to them.

“I’m sure you do. What’s your angle? Lawn care, snow removal, working at an ad agency, designing websites—none of that adds up. I think you’re a conman who preys on widows. She doesn’t have any money, if that’s what you’re after.”

Rodney had been nothing but honorable where Caroline was concerned. Barring the one time they almost kissed, the most he’d done was kiss her hand. Jason’s goading was getting to him, along with indigestion from his breakfast. He rubbed his chest and swallowed hard. Had they not been in a public place, he’d have dressed this young man down. Instead he chose his words carefully. “I’m not going to stop dating your mom because you’re threatening me and acting like a spoiled brat.”

Anger snapped in Jason’s eyes. He straightened to his full height, which Rodney realized gave him two more inches on Rodney. “I’m sure Mom will appreciate that you called her only child a brat. Doesn’t say much for her parenting skills, does it?”

Caroline
. The thought tamped down Rodney’s anger. He hadn’t considered her feelings on that point. She’d be disappointed in both of them, and the last thing he wanted to do was come between a mother and son. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I really do want to get along with you.” Rodney relaxed his stance in a concentrated effort to back up his words and offered his hand to Jason.

“Yeah, well, leave Mom alone and I’m sure we could be best friends.” Jason remained erect. One hand held the prescription, the other now tucked in his pants pocket. Rodney could almost see the chip on his shoulder, waiting to be knocked off.

“Rodney.” Surprise filled Angela’s voice. She came from behind Jason. “How are you?” She wrapped her arm around Jason’s left arm and pushed her weight into him until he took a step back, opening the space between them.

Rodney tipped his head to greet her. “Fine, thank you, and how are you feeling?”

“Great.” She ran her hand over her protruding stomach. “Not long now, but I ran out of my prenatal vitamins.” She glanced toward the pharmacist, but Jason rattled the sack he held to draw her attention.