Longing for Home. Kathryn Springer
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“It doesn’t matter what Alex thinks.” Abby’s chin lifted. “He’s never eaten at the café.”
So, yes! A greasy spoon!
“I told him that you’ve won awards at the county fair…” Kate stifled a groan. She knew her friend meant well, but a first-place ribbon for her triple berry pie and sour apple salsa wasn’t going to impress someone like Alex. “…and just because the café is small, it doesn’t mean that you deep-fry everything and sling hash—”
“Hash?” Kate squawked.
“Maybe he didn’t say hash.” Abby bit her lip.
The familiar gesture, the one Kate saw whenever Abby was trying to find a tactful way to say something—or not to say something—only led to one conclusion.
He’d said hash.
Abby must have recognized the look on her face. “Don’t change your mind about catering the reception,” she pleaded. “Alex will eat everything you prepare, and he’ll love it. I promise.”
The corners of Kate’s lips curved in a slow smile. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not going to change my mind.”
Because Alex Porter would eat everything she prepared for the reception dinner…and a generous helping of crow, as well.
Play nice.
Those were Abby’s orders.
But Alex had found a loophole. His sister had been talking about her wedding day. If he arrived in town a few days early, technically those orders hadn’t taken effect yet.
The truth was, Alex Porter didn’t particularly care for orders unless he was the one giving them. And he didn’t care for orders issued by his kid sister, either.
Not, Alex grudgingly admitted to himself, that Abby was a kid. Not anymore. But it was hard not to think of her as the fragile, introverted girl he’d single-handedly raised after their parents died while returning home from a business trip.
One phone call from a sheriff’s deputy that night had changed the course of Alex’s life. At the age of twenty-two and six weeks shy of obtaining his bachelor’s degree, he had inherited the family estate, two hotels and the guardianship of his fourteen-year-old sister.
After the funeral, an attorney recommended that Alex “liquidate all the assets” in order to “disengage from the weighty responsibilities” that had been placed on him. Alex interpreted the ‘liquidating of all assets’ as polite legalese for disposing of the two hotels his parents had poured twenty years of their blood, sweat and tears into making a success. The “weighty responsibilities?” His only sibling.
He had dismissed the lawyer’s advice. And the lawyer.
There’d been little time to grieve as he took charge of the business and Abby, the only other remaining member of the Porter family. Over the years, Alex had done everything in his power to protect them both.
That’s why Abby’s decision to walk away from the family business—and, if Alex were completely honest, from him—the previous summer had been a difficult one to accept.
Alex realized now that he should have taken his sister a little more seriously when she claimed she had to follow God’s plan for her life. Whatever that meant. It was fine with him if people chose to look to God for direction, but Alex preferred to make his own plans.
But because he hadn’t paid attention, Abby had decided to follow the old adage “actions speak louder than words” to prove her point. A point Alex still thought she could have made without turning in her letter of resignation and buying a run-down lodge in northern Wisconsin.
He figured that Abby would get married one day, but he’d always assumed he would have a little more…input…about the details. Like who she married. And when. And where.
At the very least, he assumed she would agree to hold the ceremony in Porter Lakeside’s grand ballroom, surrounded by friends who moved within their social circle. But no. Abby had insisted on a simple wedding at the inn she’d opened; the guest list comprised a small group of people Alex didn’t even know.
His fingers tightened around the leather steering wheel as a gap suddenly opened in the wall of trees and revealed the small town his sister now considered home.
Mirror Lake.
There was nothing special about the place that he could see. Certainly nothing special enough to tempt a person to turn their back on everything the Windy City had to offer.
He cruised down the narrow, paved walkway called Main Street. The large pots of marigolds stationed at the foot of each streetlamp must have been part of a community beautification project of some kind.
Too bad it had failed.
A hardware store with hand-printed signs in the window advertised a two-for-one sale on garden hoses. Alex shook his head. Hadn’t these people heard of underground sprinkler systems? Next door, the plate glass windows of the variety store proudly displayed a blinding array of cheap sun catchers.
Alex decided it would serve Abby right if she received a dozen of the things as wedding gifts.
His gaze shifted to the third brick building in the lineup and snagged on a faded sign above the door.
The Grapevine Café.
Jerking the Viper to the right, Alex’s foot tapped the brake so the vehicle wouldn’t jump the curb and take out a pot of marigolds.
He cut the engine and stared at the old-fashioned diner in disbelief. Call him crazy, but for some reason, he’d pictured something with a little more curbside appeal. Something a little…bigger.
“What are you thinking, Abby?” he muttered. This was taking her friendship with the owner of the café—Kate Nichols—too far.
A memory, one that had lodged deep in his subconscious like a splinter, shifted and poked him again.
Almost a year ago, when he’d shown up at Abby’s bed-and-breakfast to make one final appeal for her to come home, he’d walked right into the middle of a renovation party. Alex had confronted the first person he saw—a young woman with a cap of flame-colored curls and eyes as green as a field of fresh clover—and asked where he could find Abby. Instead of taking him to his sister, the pixie had had the audacity to lead him to a dilapidated cabin down by the lake instead. Then she’d pressed a hammer into his hand, pointed to the roof and told him to “make himself useful.”
He hadn’t appreciated being told what to do. Especially by a petite, redheaded firecracker.
Alex had tried to put her out of his mind but that wasn’t easy when the name Kate Nichols popped up with annoying frequency during his phone conversations with Abby.
Business wouldn’t exactly be booming for the owner of a café in a town the size of Mirror Lake. If he knew his tender-hearted sister, Abby had felt sorry for Kate, put aside her misgivings and hired her to cater the reception dinner. It might explain the strain he’d heard in Abby’s voice when they had gone over the details for the reception the day before. Even with the simple wedding she was insisting upon, resources had to be limited.
Alex’s eyes narrowed on a tear in the striped awning that shaded the sidewalk.
Very limited.
He got out of the car and reached the door in two strides. According to a piece of cardboard taped to the window, the café opened for business at six o’clock.
Alex glanced at the TAG Heuer on his wrist.
Two minutes past six.
Great. He’d be the first customer of the day.
Chapter Two
The bells over the front door jingled as Kate piped neat rows of whipped cream over the top of a fresh