She walked into Angel’s late in the afternoon to find her hostess in the family room talking to a young girl who appeared to be in her early twenties. Not wanting to interrupt, Sara waved and continued, planning to go to her room.
“Sara, wait! I’d like to introduce you to someone.”
Sara walked over and joined them.
“Sara, meet Joy. Joy, this is Sara. She’s a guest here now. Joy’s looking to book her wedding here this fall!” Angel said, her excitement at the prospect of hosting the event tangible.
“That’s fantastic. Congratulations,” Sara said, more to Angel than to Joy.
But the other woman didn’t seem to notice. “Thanks. I couldn’t stay here, because I decided to come at the last minute and the rooms are booked because of the Wine Festival, but I wanted to come take a tour. I’m looking for a small, intimate bed-and-breakfast where my fiancé and I can get married in a private ceremony,” she said dreamily.
The woman obviously had stars in her eyes when it came to romance, Sara thought. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from expressing her opinions on the subject. She’d learned long ago not everyone was as pessimistic as she was. Then again, not everyone saw divorce and discontent everywhere they looked within their own family tree.
“Anyway, since Joy will be around for the festival, I thought I’d introduce you in case you see her in town,” Angel explained.
Sara smiled. “I’ll be sure to look for you.”
“Same here.” Joy’s gaze remained on hers too long for comfort.
“Sara, when I’m finished with Joy, I’m going to be baking a second set of apple pies for my booth at the festival. Want to help?” Angel asked.
Glad to turn her attention away from Joy, Sara glanced at Angel and nodded. “Sure. I’d love to.”
“Okay, why don’t you meet me back downstairs in about half an hour?”
“I will.” Sara turned and headed for the stairs and the comfort of her room. Her knee ached, and she could use the time to lie down for a little while.
SARA MUST HAVE DOZED off. She jumped up, certain she’d been sleeping for longer than the half hour Angel had given her. A glance at her watch told her she’d been out for an hour.
By the time Sara walked into the kitchen, Angel was surrounded by ingredients, bowls and a mixer. The scent of apple pie permeated the air, and a warm, tingling feeling filled Sara, making her wonder if this was what she’d missed growing up without a mother.
The thought took hold, and she shivered, unable to escape the haunting feeling that she had missed out on something deep and fundamental. Something she’d never allowed herself to miss—or want—before.
“Those pies look tiny,” Sara said, noticing the mini-piecrust holders spread out on the table.
All day she’d been forcing the unsettling news about someone trying to track her accounts to the back of her mind by immersing herself in the present, and now was no different. She’d find comfort in easy things like making small talk and baking.
Angel glanced up, her hands covered in flour as she kneaded dough. “I’m making individual pies for the festival. I’m working on the crust right now. Grab a roller. The dough will be ready in a second.”
Sara glanced at the cluttered table as she settled into a chair beside her. “I haven’t baked in years.”
Not since she’d turned herself into a little cook for her father. Birthday cake had been her specialty. But once out on her own, she’d worked long hours, and, on her days off, she kept busy by shopping and browsing as she walked through the city. She’d never thought to use her old baking skills as an outlet to relax or keep busy.
Half an hour later, she’d rediscovered the magic. And the company was interesting. Rafe’s sister-in-law had an independent streak as long as Sara’s, and a good sense of humor.
“So, how was dinner last night?” Angel asked.
Sara raised her gaze. “Yours was delicious, but you’re not referring to that, are you?”
Angel shook her head, a guilty smile on her face. “Sorry I didn’t warn you, but I figured you might not want to show up uninvited. But I know my in-laws. They love company.”
Sara nodded. “They welcomed me with open arms, but I’d have appreciated a heads-up anyway.”
“Next time,” Angel said with an easy shrug. Obviously, she didn’t feel too badly about sending her over.
“I’d already met Mr. and Mrs. Mancuso when they came to visit Rafe in the hospital,” Sara said. “I like them.”
Angel gestured to the flour, indicating that Sara should coat the prep area so the mixture wouldn’t stick.
Sara followed her lead with each step.
“My in-laws are good people. I just wish they’d stop pushing for Nick and me to get back together. It’s not as easy as they think.”
In between instructions on how to make piecrust, Angel confided in Sara about her miscarriage and the reason behind the breakup of her marriage. According to Angel, she wanted to move on and put her energy into building the B and B. Nick wanted to constantly talk about what had happened, what it meant to them both. But Angel felt that talking about the most painful thing in her life wouldn’t change the fact that she’d never be a mother. Her choices were to try again and risk miscarrying over and over or adopt. Not wanting to deal with any more disappointment, she’d chosen to give birth to her business instead.
She needed the stimulation the B and B provided. And for Angel, best of all, it didn’t leave her with time to think about their loss and her inability to have children.
Nick wanted the life they had had.
Angel couldn’t go back.
All things Sara innately understood.
“But Rafe seems to get why I need this.” Angel waved her arm around the small kitchen, but Sara knew she was really referring to the entire house and venture. “I wish Nick did, too.”
Sara raised an eyebrow. “Rafe isn’t on his brother’s side?”
The other woman shook her head. “He says he’s on our side.” Angel paused from pressing the crust into the tin. “You sound surprised.”
“It’s just that I always thought of Rafe as a very traditional guy. He wants what his parents have. Marriage, family. The white picket fence.” Which was what stood between them now.
Angel pressed her lips together, obviously needing time to think. A few seconds later, she exhaled a long breath. “Okay, I’m going to share something private. But I don’t want you to think I’m a gossip. I’m telling you this because no woman drives five hours just to say hello to a man. You must have strong feelings for Rafe, or you wouldn’t be here.”