“I’ll take this, Tresia.” She proceeded to pick up another two bars and brought them to the counter. “This one smells like springtime. I can use a little springtime right about now. It’s been a little too cold for me lately.”
“We could all use a little springtime, Samantha. And definitely some warmer weather. I don’t remember a January that’s been this cold.” Tresia smiled as she quickly rang up the purchase, placed the soap in a paper bag and handed it to Samantha.
Bag in hand, Samantha strolled toward the door. She opened it, making the bell chime, then just stood there, her gaze roaming over Sheridan. There was an expression on her face, one Sheridan couldn’t quite place. It seemed to be a cross between curiosity and disdain.
Serenity was a small town. Everyone, by now, knew that ‘Josie’s daughter’ had come to claim her inheritance. Some were happy. Some were not. It seemed Samantha was in the ‘not’ category.
Sheridan lifted her gaze and returned the woman’s stare, though she fought the urge to turn on her heel and run back to the parlor house. Better yet, back to New Orleans.
A blush stained Samantha’s cheeks pink before her lips tightened into a thin line and she left the store without a word.
“May I help you?” Tresia approached, her quick footsteps treading over the hardwood floor.
Sheridan turned. “Yes, please. Mrs. Gallagher said you have her order ready.”
“I do.” Tresia studied her, her look curious.
Sheridan stiffened, unsure what would happen next.
But a smile tilted up the corners of Tresia’s mouth, and her unusual pansy-colored eyes seemed to shine. “You must be Sheridan DuBois, Josie’s daughter.” She held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Tresia Goodrich. I own this store.”She glanced at the girl still arranging dolls on the shelf, love glowing from her eyes. “That’s my daughter, Avery.”
“Nice to meet you,” Sheridan murmured as she shook the woman’s hand quickly and let go.
“I’m so very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
“I was quite fond of Josie.” Tresia moved to the counter. “She came in often and always made me laugh. She had a fondness for peppermints.” She rummaged around beneath the counter and brought out a fancy stamped tin.
Sheridan recognized that tin, the name of the confectioner, Rousseau, stamped on the lid. She’d been receiving a tin a month at school from the time she was ten years old and had assumed they’d been from her grandmother. Now, she was sure her mother had been sending them to her all along.
Tresia lifted the lid, revealing dime size lozenges. “Have one. She always said they tasted like home.”
“No, thank you. I already know what they taste like.”
“Yes, I would think you would.” Tresia smiled in a way that confirmed Sheridan’s thought—that Josie had made arrangements to send peppermints. Tresia replaced the lid and pushed the tin toward her. “Take these home with you. They’ve just been sitting here for a while.”
Sheridan shook her head. “I couldn’t.”
“Yes, you can. I insist.”
A little startled by Tresia’s gentle kindness, which she hadn’t expected, especially after the look the woman named Samantha had given her, Sheridan pulled the tin closer and swallowed to ease the sudden constriction in her throat. She was turning into a silly weepy willie. “Thank you.”
Tresia acted as if giving goods away for free was something she did every day. Or maybe she was just a generous woman,who enjoyed doing nice things for others, regardless of who they were.
“Give me a minute to get your glasses. They’re in the back. There are two nice size crates. Did you bring a buggy with you?”
“I did not. Mrs. Gallagher didn’t mention there would be crates.” She glanced down at the tin of peppermints, wanting so much to have one right now, simply for the comfort they’d always brought her. She felt out of place and disorganized. One should never be unprepared, no matter the circumstances, and here she was, ill-equipped to manage all the recent changes in her life. “I’ll have to come back for them, I suppose, another time.”
“That’s not necessary. I can arrange to have Corianna deliver them. It wouldn’t be for a few hours yet, but if you don’t have an immediate need—” Her attention was drawn to something outside one of the big, plate-glass windows and her eyes lit up. “Wait. I have an idea.”
Sheridan turned just in time to see the person she never wanted to see again open the store door and step inside, the little bell announcing his arrival.
A strange little quiver settled in her belly. Was it possible Wyatt MacLean was even more handsome in the bright light of day?
Yes. Yes, it was.
His dark hair was mussed, looking like he’d run his fingers through it multiple times, and a rosiness had settled in his cheeks from the cold, but that smile! He stopped in the doorway and just stood there, his hands on his hips. His smile widened as his amber gaze swept over her. She felt the heat of that gaze all the way to her toes.
