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  Doubts & Desires

  Thea Dawson

  All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in a newspaper, television, radio or online review, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Doubts & Desires

  by Thea Dawson

  Copyright © Thea Dawson 2017

  Published: 28 April, 2017

  Publisher: Aeroplane Media Press

  Cover image: © imagerymajestic/Depositphotos.com

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek

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  Chapter One

  Merilee’s checklists were driving her crazy.

  She had approximately a million things to do in the next two weeks before the grand opening of her new coffee shop, The Riverfront Café. Organization was not her strongest point, and she had several lists in various stages of incompletion—a list of items she still need to buy and install, another list of places to promote and advertise, another for vendors and ongoing food orders she needed to place, another of local events at which the Riverfront could have a booth, and so forth.

  It didn’t help that she was constantly second-guessing herself. She’d hired a local graphic designer, Celia Jackson, to help her with the logo, the menus, and the ads; Celia’s designs were great, but Merilee kept thinking of more things that needed to be done, and was well over her design budget now. She’d also hired a handful of staff, mostly college students from Falls State, but there was nothing really for them to do yet—would they still be available when she opened? Had Riverfront Café really been the best name she could come up with? It had sounded perfect when she’d signed the lease for the store, which faced the main street of Silverweed Falls in the front, and had a beautiful outdoor patio in the back overlooking the river that ran through town. But now the name felt uninspired and pretentious.

  The patio itself sent a dart of anxiety through her. It would be gorgeous in the summer, but for much of the year, the weather in this part of Oregon was cool or rainy. Would the patio end up being wasted retail space?

  She sighed, looking at the papers spread out on the table in front of her. If Jack had been here, he would have consolidated the lists, rearranged them by priority, scheduled them into his calendar, and checked items off one by one until they were done.

  On the other hand, Jack was the reason she’d left Seattle and moved to Silverweed Falls. If he’d been here, he would have also been finding some way to make her life miserable, so it was probably a worthwhile tradeoff.

  Merilee found her items list and crossed off “espresso machine” with several hard strokes of her pen. The industrial machine had been delivered just a few minutes ago, and was being installed in the kitchen now. And really, that was the biggie. Once she had the ability to make coffee, she could live without pretty much everything else.

  Except cups.

  And spoons.

  And sugar packets.

  She frowned at the list, which never seemed to get any shorter. There was a restaurant supply store in Portland, about a 90-minute drive away. She had an order of cups and saucers waiting for her there, and planned to drive out in a couple of days to pick them up, along with anything else she could think of.

  The chimes she’d hung on the front door suddenly jingled. She looked up hopefully, thinking it might finally be the electrician, and blinked in surprise.

  The handsomest man she’d ever seen was standing in the doorway looking around the interior of the café. Then his eyes fell on her and his face broke into a wide smile, and he crossed the room toward her in a few long strides.

  It was a dark, cloudy day, not helped by the fact that the electrician was two days late to install the lighting, and the room was lit with only a couple of cheap lamps that Merilee had brought from her apartment. Nonetheless, the stranger’s wavy light brown hair, bright hazel eyes, and big smile seemed to light up the room by themselves. At somewhere around six foot two, he was almost a foot taller than the petite Merilee, but he had the lean, rangy build of a runner or a swimmer. He wore a canvas work jacket, faded but clean jeans, and work boots, and he carried what looked like a small cooler under one arm.

  Merilee stood up hastily, shot through with nerves. She was, as a rule, very comfortable with people, but something about this man made her feel as if the room had suddenly tilted.

  “Are you the new owner?” he asked, extending a hand. “I’m Adam Hartmann.”

  “Merilee Porter.” Hand outstretched, she took two steps toward him, tripped and almost fell into his arms. “Sorry!” she said with a flustered laugh as he put a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

  “Easy there,” he said as calmly as if women fell into his arms on a regular basis.

  They probably did, she reflected, as she caught a whiff of his clean, citrusy aftershave.

  “So, Merilee?” he asked, his grin getting bigger. “Like, Merilee, Merilee, Merilee, Merilee, life is but a dream?”

  She suppressed the goofy giggle that threatened to embarrass her. Normally, she rolled her eyes when people reminded her of the old song, but coming from him the words now sounded… dreamy. “Um, yes.”

  He laughed. “Sorry, you probably get that a lot.” He put the cooler on a nearby table. “Listen, do you have a moment? I’d like to talk to you about the food you’re planning to sell here.”

  Ah, not the electrician, then. He was a salesman, she thought. She could half hear Jack’s voice reminding her that she was a pushover when it came to salespeople. She looked at him again. He wasn’t dressed like a salesman …

  “I run a small dairy farm about 20 minutes outside of town, and I was wondering if you’d be interested in selling gelato,” Adam explained.

  She blinked. “Gelato?”

  “Yeah, Italian-style ice cream,” he slid into a chair at the table and began opening the cooler.

  She wanted to tell him that she knew perfectly well what gelato was, but her curiosity got in the way. She pulled another chair back from the table, almost knocking it over as she sat down clumsily. She felt her cheeks start to get warm. She wasn’t the most graceful creature on the planet by a long shot, but this was getting ridiculous. Flustered, she tried to focus on his next words.

  “I brought six sample flavors,” he continued, pretending he hadn’t noticed anything. “These are our most popular ones, but we have plenty of others, and we can always talk about custom flavors, as well.” He opened a plastic container and produced a small metal spoon. “We’re a three-generation farm, all our milk is organic, and we take excellent care of our cows. The gelato recipe is my grandmother’s.” He scooped out a bit of the chocolate and held it in the air in front of her face.

  Without thinking, she leaned forward and took the bite he offered.

  The chocolate flavor was intense, but mitigate
d by a heavenly creaminess. She couldn’t remember having ice cream like it ever before. “Oh, my God, oh, my God, this is just… epic!” she murmured, her eyes closed.

  She opened her eyes to see him staring at her in surprise, and suddenly realized he had simply meant to hand her the spoon, not feed her like a lover. And here she was, groaning like …

  Never mind.

  She sat back primly, her face on fire. “You don’t look Italian,” she said abruptly. Confusion fell over his face. “You said it was your grandmother’s recipe?”

  He blinked and then laughed, a genuine, deep laugh that caused an odd fluttering sensation in her stomach. “It was my grandmother’s recipe, but she wasn’t Italian. None of my family are. To be honest, I don’t know where Gran got it. For all I know, it came from an old Good Housekeeping or McCall’s magazine. But you’ve got to admit, it’s good, right?”

  “It’s delicious,” she admitted. She was dying to ask for a taste of the other flavors, but she felt like she had to be honest. “I wasn’t really planning on carrying ice cream. I don’t have the right kind of freezer —”

  “You need what’s called a dipping cabinet, puts the gelato on display so people can see all the flavors.” He hesitated a moment. “I’ll be honest with you—they’re not cheap. They start at around $3000.”

  Merilee gulped.

  “But I have one on the farm that my dad used to use. I could lease it to you, say, $200 a month? Month by month, no long-term obligation.”

  “Hmm …” Merilee considered the idea. If the first bite of gelato was anything to go by, it wouldn’t be difficult to sell, but a dipping cabinet and another vendor hadn’t been in her plans … or her budget. She looked over at the front counter, wondering where it would go.

  He followed her gaze and seemed to understand what she was thinking. “It’s not that big, and there’s no special installation. Basically, you just plug it in. It would fit perfectly there—” he pointed at the table to the side of the counter. “If you don’t sell enough gelato to make it worthwhile, just give back the freezer and put the table back.”

  Merilee considered it. This was just the kind of impulsive—and potentially expensive—move that Jack would have berated her for. A feeling of defiance came over her. She really did want the gelato—and the dipping cabinet—in her new café.

  But she had enough common sense not to commit on the spot, though. “What about the gelato itself? How much does it cost? And what kind of delivery schedule are you thinking about? I have no idea, yet, what kind of demand there’ll be.”

  He flashed her another smile, big and reassuring. “I have a list of all available flavors and prices in here—” he patted an outer pocket of the cooler. “I’m sure we can find a schedule that works for both of us. Why don’t you hang on to this—” he indicated the cooler again, “try out the other flavors, see how you feel, and I’ll drop back again to pick it up and see what you think. Say, this time Thursday?”

  “That would work,” Merilee answered, sorry to think of him leaving so soon.

  “Excellent,” Adam leaned back with a satisfied air. “What brings you to Silverweed Falls, by the way?”

  “Oh …” she looked for the right words. “I was running a coffee shop in Seattle for the past few years. Just … decided it was time for a change.”

  Had he caught the hesitancy in her voice? If so, he gave no indication. “Not much of a city man myself. I hope you’ll find our little town more to your liking. People been good to you so far?”

  “Oh, yes,” Merilee said, her enthusiasm returning. “Everyone’s been lovely. Except that my electrician hasn’t shown up to install the lights here.” She glanced regretfully up at the ceiling where the track lights were supposed to go.

  “Who’d you hire?”

  “Bailey & Son.” She caught the look on his face. “You know them?”

  He looked as if he wanted to say something, but was holding himself back. “Well, if Bailey doesn’t come through for you, let me know, and I’ll do it myself.”

  “You’re an electrician?”

  “I’m a farmer, which means I do a lot of things.” He winked at her, then stood up, unfolding his tall frame from the chair.

  She popped up out of her own, nearly knocking it over again in the process.

  “I’d better get back to the cows. It was lovely to meet you, Merilee Porter.” He wrapped her small hand in his large one and gave her that beautiful smile again. “Enjoy the gelato. See you on Thursday.”

  He didn’t have a hat, but Merilee was quite sure he would have tipped it if he’d been wearing one. She trailed him to the door and waved him away as he slipped out into the overcast morning.

  She sighed, then turned her attention back to the restaurant. Picking up the small cooler, she returned to the back to see how things were going with the espresso machine.

  ***

  Walking back to his truck, Adam had two regrets.

  The first was not trying to close the sale.

  He’d learned about sales from his grandfather, who had kept his milk delivery business going strong for years by flirting with housewives and talking shop with local store owners. He could almost hear his granddad’s voice. “Never let them go away to think about it,” he’d always said. “If they want it and need it, you’re not doing them any favors by letting them off the hook. Let them get it now.”

  In the end, of course, even Granddad hadn’t been able to compete with the convenience and price of plastic gallon jugs at the supermarket. Adam’s dad had kept the business going by finding a niche market among regional cheese makers, who prized the organic, locally-grown milk. But although that market was growing, so was the competition, and Adam knew he was going to have to find new income streams if he wanted to keep the farm running.

  Adam was pretty sure he could have closed the deal with the pretty young owner. She’d been both eager and accommodating, and there was no doubt she’d appreciated the gelato. If he’d been better at the hard sell, he could have talked her into it.

  But some instinct had held him back. She’d seemed like she was a bundle of nerves already, and he would have felt badly if he’d tried to pressure her into committing on the spot.

  Adam’s second regret, which was maybe even bigger than the first, was that he’d given Merilee two whole days to think about it — and damn it, he wanted to see her again sooner.

  He shook his head, bemused at the petite brunette’s appeal. She wasn’t really his type. Wasn’t his type at all, actually. She was short, brunette and curvy, whereas he’d always been drawn to tall, willowy blonde girls—girls who’d grown up in the area. But most of them couldn’t wait to flee Silverweed Falls; the idea of settling down in a small town—let alone on a small farm—had sent most of them packing sooner or later, heading off to one big city or another.

  But now there was Merilee, who seemed to be heading away from the big city. She reminded him of an old-fashioned doll, with her enormous brown eyes and ringlet hair. Though he’d always leaned toward more slender girls, he had to admit that Merilee’s curves were in all the right places.

  She also seemed a bit accident-prone—the thought of her carrying carafes of hot coffee or stacks of dishes was a bit alarming—but maybe a more composed woman wouldn’t have made a dive for the spoon in his hand the way she had. He’d really meant to hand her the spoon, not feed her. But he wasn’t complaining. The memory of her pouty lips curving around the spoonful of gelato, the sound of her voice murmuring, “Oh, my God, that’s epic,” played on repeat in his mind. He couldn’t help imagining those lips and those words in a different context, one that made him look around a bit anxiously, as if passing strangers might read his mind.

  But this was business, he reminded himself. If he could secure an order with Merilee’s restaurant, he was sure that more would follow. But there weren’t that many places in Silverweed Falls where his gelato would be a good fit—after Merilee’s
café, there was The Stovepipe, the town’s high-end restaurant, and possibly the local Co-op Grocery, though they’d probably want the gelato packaged in take-home containers, which came with its own set of problems. After that, he’d have to start looking farther afield, which would mean more driving and less time at the farm. Nailing his first local order would give him the income he’d need to invest if he wanted to expand farther afield—along with an equally needed shot of confidence that he could make it work.

  Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to make it back into town tomorrow. He had a number of things he needed to do on the farm, including a visit from Doug, the local large-animal vet. Doug’s visits were always welcome, but they usually ended up taking at least a couple of hours, and Adam had learned not to make other commitments on the days he came to the farm.

  He sighed. As he’d told Merilee, he wasn’t much of a city man. He loved the farm, he loved the open space around it, and being able to see the mountains in the distance. But since he’d taken it over two years ago, he hadn’t had the time to do much else besides tend the cows, make regular repairs to the old barn, and try to balance his accounts. His social life consisted of the occasional Chamber of Commerce meeting, and his love life was nonexistent.

  He climbed into his van, glanced at the empty seat beside him, and thought again of the pretty, clumsy, charming Merilee.

  What a dream, indeed.

  Chapter Two

  The next day, Celia dropped by with the proofs for the ads. Ordinarily, she was accompanied by two or three children, but today her oldest was at school and her two younger ones had been stashed with her friend Eva, the real estate agent who’d helped Merilee find her storefront and who had introduced her to Celia.

  Merilee had hit it off with Celia almost immediately. The pretty blonde designer gave off a calm, confident aura that Merilee found soothing, and Celia, a single mom who worked for herself, seemed to enjoy the chance to talk to another adult.