The five of them visited pleasantly during breakfast. Ethel asked Clive a few personal questions about his marital status and family situation, but in such a way that he was probably not aware of her intent. And the truth was that Jane was interested to hear that he had been married for nearly twenty years, but that his wife left him for another man about ten years ago, accusing him of being married to his career instead of her, which he admitted was partially true. He had two grown sons, one just finishing law school and the other working in investment banking.

  “Why, you just don’t look old enough to have two full-grown sons,” said Belle. “You must’ve started your family when you were a teenager.”

  “Mandy and I were young by today’s standards, but we had just graduated college and thought we were grown-up.” He chuckled. “Now I’m not so sure that was the case.”

  “Funny how our perspectives change with age,” said Jane as she refilled his coffee cup.

  “Yes,” he agreed, “instead of getting wiser in my old age, I realize how little I actually know about almost everything.”

  “But you do not come across like that in your column,” said Louise.

  He frowned. “No, I suppose not. Unfortunately, I was still fairly young when I started that column. I set myself up as being much smarter than I really am.”

  Jane laughed. “Well, it’s an act you seem to be pulling off rather convincingly.”

  “Maybe it’s time to change that.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps I should let my readers know that I’m nearly not as bright as I appear on paper.”

  “Maybe your readers enjoy the illusion,” suggested Louise.

  “Sort of like that little man behind the curtain in The Wizard of Oz,” Belle suggested.

  Clive nodded. “Yes, I suppose I’m a bit like that. Although I think the professor at Oz was much smarter than he gets credit for.”

  “Hello?” called a male voice from the kitchen. “Who can that be?” asked Louise.

  Jane was just getting up when Craig Tracy pushed open the swinging door and grinned in an embarrassed way. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “That’s okay,” said Jane. “We’re just finishing up. Want to join us for coffee or a pastry?”

  “I came to get you for our planting project at the City Hall,” he said, still standing in the doorway. “Remember, I said Thursday morning?”

  She slapped her forehead. “I totally forgot.”

  He nodded. “You still want to help?”

  “You go ahead, Jane,” said Louise. “I’ll take care of the breakfast things.”

  “Okay.” She turned to Craig. “Just let me go put on some jeans and my gardening shoes.”

  “Please sit down, Craig,” said Louise. “I know you have a weakness for Jane’s cinnamon rolls.”

  Then Jane hurried up the stairs to do a quick change. As much as she wanted to help Craig this morning, she was disappointed that this would mean less time to spend with Clive. Not that she expected Clive to spend his time with her, but she had hoped to get to know him a little better today. And who knew what would happen tomorrow, the day when Justin was scheduled to show up.

  Sprucing up the town hall planters turned out to be a bigger project than either Craig or Jane had expected. The packed and neglected dirt needed a lot of enrichment, which entailed several trips for bags of potting soil. It was nearly two by the time they finished, and Craig offered to buy her lunch as a thank-you.

  “I am starving,” Jane admitted as she paused from sweeping spilled soil off the sidewalk. “But I think we better wash up first.”

  “These planters look wonderful,” said Lloyd as he emerged from the building in a crisp blue suit, sparkling white shirt and a gold bow tie. “You two do excellent work.”

  Jane turned around to admire their efforts. The long cedar boxes were overflowing with cheerful red and white petunias as well as bright blue Lithodora and the silver tones of dusty miller. “It is an improvement.”

  “And very patriotic,” added Craig.

  “It is generous citizens like you who keep Acorn Hill the kind of town we all like to call home,” said Lloyd.

  “Do you mind if we use your restroom to clean up a bit?” asked Jane as she brushed some soil from her jeans.

  “Of course not.” He smiled. “Make yourselves at home.”

  Before long, Jane and Craig were seated at the Coffee Shop. They both ordered the lunch special: turkey sandwiches and cream of broccoli soup.

  “You didn’t tell me that a celebrity was coming to town,” said Craig as he sipped his iced tea.

  “Oh, you mean Clive?”

  He nodded. “I’ve read his column for years. It was fantastic to meet such a noted writer.”

  “He seems genuinely nice.” Jane picked up the second half of her sandwich. “Not at all stuffy or pretentious.”

  “Did you expect him to be?”

  She shrugged. “He can come across pompous in his column at times. Sort of a know-it-all. I didn’t think I’d like him.”

  He chuckled. “It’s obvious that Belle likes him. Does he have any idea what that woman is up to?”

  “I haven’t warned him, if that’s what you mean.” Jane felt defensive. She wasn’t sure if the feeling was for Belle’s benefit or Clive’s. “He’s a pretty smart guy. I’m sure he’ll figure it out.”

  “I’d say that he’s also too old for her, but age doesn’t seem to matter to that woman.”

  “Craig,” said Jane. “You don’t need to keep calling her ‘that woman’ like she’s some kind of criminal or lowlife or something.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I suppose that is juvenile on my part.” He winked as he nodded toward the door. “Speak of the devil.” Then he put his hand over his mouth. “I mean she devil.”

  She gave him a warning look, then glanced up in time to see not only Belle, but also Clive walking toward them.

  “Oh, hello, you two,” said Belle cheerfully. “I’m giving Clive the tour of the town and I told him he simply had to come to the Coffee Shop for pie.”

  Clive smiled. “She said the coconut cream is to die for.”

  Jane smiled. “You can’t go wrong with any pie here. The blackberry is a specialty.”

  He nodded. “That sounds appealing too. With ice cream.”

  “Would you like to join us?” offered Craig.

  “Oh no,” said Belle, “we wouldn’t dream of intruding, would we, Clive?”

  He appeared to be at a loss for words, but Craig assured them that their company would not be an intrusion. Still, Belle tugged on Clive’s arm, insisting that they shouldn’t interfere with Jane and Craig’s “little lunch.”

  “What’d I say?” said Craig quietly as Belle and Clive took a table against the far wall.

  Jane shook her head. “I’m surprised you were so eager to have them join us.”

  “Not her,” said Craig, “Just him. Unfortunately it was a package deal.” He shook his head. “A man like Clive Fagler couldn’t possibly be interested in someone like Belle. Could he?”

  “They say opposites attract.” Jane glanced at their table then away again. “And Belle is a pretty woman.”

  “In a fluffy sort of way,” said Craig. “Kind of like petunias. I don’t really like them much, except that they give a lot of instant color and cheer.”

  “Why, I thought you loved all flowers equally,” she teased.

  “I appreciate them for their various traits. But I do have my favorites.”

  “Such as?”

  “Columbine.”

  “Columbine?” She considered his choice. “A nice enough flower, but not exactly splashy or dramatic or exciting.”

  “No, but somewhat mysterious, alluring and interesting because it’s a delicate yet hardy plant.”

  “Hmm.” She took a spoonful of soup. “I can see you’ve given this careful thought.”

  “I like peonies too.” He laughed.

  “Aha!” She pointed her spoon at him. “Now there’s diversity for you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Somehow Belle managed to occupy Clive for the remainder of Thursday. Janet old herself that it was of no matter to her, but she experienced a letdown. Also, she was becoming more and more nervous over Justin’s impending arrival. As a result, she found herself baking on Thursday night. Louise and Alice kept her company until after nine, but they finally tired and Jane shooed them off to their beds, promising that she’d call it quits before long. Her hope in her frenetic culinary efforts was twofold: that she would wear herself out and fall into bed in an exhausted state of slumber, and that she would have prepared enough muffins, pastries and breads to last throughout the long weekend.

  “Hello?”

  Jane turned toward the dining room. There was Clive in the doorway. “Oh!”

  “I suspect that guests aren’t allowed past this hallowed door—”

  “No, you’re fine.” She waved him in.

  He smiled. “Thank you.” Then he entered, carefully taking in the whole room as he slowly walked around, nodding his head in approval. “Very, very nice.”

  “Thank you. I like it.” She continued washing the muffin tin in the sink.

  “Do you always bake late into the night?”

  “Not always.” She considered confessing to him that she was on pins and needles about Justin’s visit tomorrow, but then decided she didn’t know Clive well enough to disclose such personal information.

  “Mind if I sit down?”

  “Go right ahead. Make yourself at home. There’s still some decaf over there. It’s not the freshest, but—”

  “Sounds great.” He was up again. “I’ll just help myself.”

  She slipped a cookie sheet into the hot soapy water. “Help yourself to a snack if you like.”

  “Really?” He looked over to a cooling rack. “Are these oatmeal cookies?”

  “Yep. Still warm.”

  “Groovy.”

  She laughed. “Now there’s a word you don’t hear every day.”

  He sniffed the cookie, then sighed and took a bite, slowly chewing with the sort of expression one might have while sampling a glass of fine wine, trying to discern the bouquet. “Walnuts?”

  “Yes.” She watched him with amusement.

  “Just a touch of cinnamon?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hint of nutmeg?”

  “Yes.”

  “Delicious.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank you.”

  She chuckled. “So, what have you and Belle been up to this evening?”

  “Bingo.”

  She laughed out loud. “Of course, I totally forgot it was bingo night. Did you win anything?”

  “No, but I met a lot of unique people and made some interesting observations.” He sat back down at the table. “I almost forgot how charming small-town life can be.”

  “Have you ever lived in a small town?”

  “Not really, but my grandparents did—it was a little one-horse town in Michigan. We’d visit them for holidays and summer vacations. Lots of good memories there. Things I need to be reminded of from time to time.” He took another bite, and Jane checked on the breads still in the oven, then returned to washing baking pans.

  “So is that what brought you to Acorn Hill?” She glanced over her shoulder. “The need to reconnect with a small town?”

  “That and the need for a break from the city. Also, I’ve been collecting ideas for a book I’m working on. I hoped to use some of my time here to organize them.”

  “You’re writing a book?”

  He snickered. “Isn’t everyone?”

  “I suppose, but you have an advantage because you’re already a writer, a published one at that. What sort of book are you writing?”

  He frowned. “I’m not really sure. It keeps changing.”

  “Oh.”

  “I don’t usually talk about my book. It’s not something I really want people to know about.”

  She set the cookie sheet to dry, wiped her hands, then poured herself a half cup of decaf and sat down across from him and smiled. “Well, if it’s a secret, it’s safe with me.”

  “Thanks. It’s probably more about pride than privacy. I wouldn’t want everyone to think I was writing a book and then never have one materialize. That’s a little embarrassing.”

  “I understand.”

  “Speaking of embarrassing, I’m sure you’ve heard about Belle’s marital plans?”

  “It’s about all I’ve heard since Belle showed up at the inn.” She looked closely at him. “Don’t tell me that you’re the man?”

  He laughed so loudly that she had to shush him. Then he solemnly shook his head. “Not on your life.”

  “I didn’t think so, but you can never tell.”

  “She’s a sweet gal,” he said, “but a little too talkative and cheerful for my taste.”

  “You go for the silent, grumpy type?”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners and he chuckled. “No. I like a woman with some depth to her. A woman who is comfortable with the world and with herself. A woman who’s interested and interesting. Is that too much to hope for?”

  “Those are the sorts of things I would look for”—she glanced away—“if I were looking.”

  He nodded. “So, are you involved with the flower man?”

  “The flower man?” She suppressed laughter. “You mean Craig?”

  “Belle seemed to think you were more than just friends.”

  “Craig and I are simply friends. Good friends.”

  “Oh.”

  The oven timer dinged, and Jane got up to check on the bread, carefully removing it and setting it on racks to cool. “Well, that’s the last of my baking tonight,” she said as she turned off the oven. She glanced at the clock and untied her apron. “Wow, it’s really getting late.”

  “Time to call it a night?”

  “I think so.”

  “Mind if I peruse the library?”

  “Of course not. Feel free to go in there anytime.”

  “Just don’t take the books home?”

  She smiled. “That’s right. No book snatching allowed.”

  “Do you have plans tomorrow?”

  “No, not really.” She tried to pretend that Justin wasn’t actually coming. Maybe he wasn’t.

  “Would you care to spend some time with me?”

  She studied his expression and sensed he was uneasy. “Sure,” she said. “Did you have anything in mind?”

  “I hoped you might have some ideas, since this is your neighborhood. What would you normally do on a sunny Friday in May?”

  “Let’s see … I might go to the nursery and look at plants.”

  “That sounds good. Maybe I could pick up some things to take back to the city with me. Is there a place to get pots?”

  “Yes,” she said. “There’s a great shop in Potterston and—”

  “Okay!” He grinned. “It sounds like we’re off to a good start.”

  “After breakfast then?”

  “It’s a date.” He nodded as he backed out of the kitchen. “Now, I’ll get out of your hair.”

  She smiled and they exchanged good-nights. Jane put a few more things away in the kitchen before she turned out the lights. As she went upstairs to her room, she wondered if it was selfish to go with Clive tomorrow. Was she simply attempting to escape? Maybe she should cancel the plans with Clive in the morning, but she would only be gone for a few hours. And perhaps Justin wouldn’t even arrive until later in the day. He hadn’t bothered updating them on his arrival. Besides, she thought as she brushed her hair, she hadn’t invited Justin. He wasn’t her guest. He had simply notified her that he was coming. Certainly, he didn’t expect her to rearrange her life for his sake. For all he knew, she could be in the midst of a serious relationship by now. She could have remarried.

  She was so exhausted by the time she got into bed that even these concerns were not sufficient to keep her awake. Before she fell asleep, she placed all her worries in God’s hands. As her father used to tell her, “Don’t worry about tomorrow. Trust God. Tomorrow will take care of itself.”

  Jane felt surprisingly refreshed when she woke in the morning. She showered and dressed quickly, then went downstairs to prepare breakfast. She whistled to herself as she made coffee.

  “Morning, Jane,” said Alice as she came into the kitchen. “You sound happy today. Are you ready to see Justin?”

  “Honestly?”

  Alice smiled and nodded.

  “I’m not ready.” Jane took the teakettle to the sink to fill with water. “In fact, I want your opinion on something.”

  “What?” Alice was getting the teapot ready.

  Then Jane told her about Clive’s invitation to do something with him this morning. “We won’t be long. We’ll probably just go check out Craig’s nursery and get some planting pots. Clive wants to try some terrace gardening back in the city.”

  “That’s a lovely idea.”

  “The terrace garden? Or doing something with him?”

  “Both.”

  “So, you think it’s okay for me to go with him today?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “I mean because of Justin.”

  “Jane, you aren’t married to Justin. And, as you said, you don’t know when he’ll get here. It could be in the afternoon or evening or he might be delayed and not arrive until tomorrow. A getaway for a few hours in the morning … why, I think it would do you good. It might even keep you from fretting about Justin’s visit.”

  Jane hugged her sister. “Thank you, Alice. I knew you’d have sound advice.”

  “What sort of advice?” asked Louise as she joined them and poured herself a cup of coffee. Jane brought her up to speed, and Louise nodded. “Yes, I agree with Alice. Go out and try not to think about Justin. I know that it’s been gnawing at you, Jane.”

  “Has it been that obvious?”

  “Indeed, it has.”

  “And if you’d like to leave right after breakfast,” offered Alice, “I’d be happy to clean up.”

  “And I will assist,” added Louise.