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“I’ll be in touch about the game,” someone called as she left the shop.
A huge black shaggy dog let out a lazy, deep woof. He was leaning on the side of Tea Total.
“Hey, buddy.” Quinn dropped down before him. There was gray around his muzzle which told her he wasn’t young. “You are a beautiful big fella.”
“His name is Buzz. He’s the town’s favorite son. But his owner is Joe Trainer.”
A man dressed in running clothes stood behind her. He was jogging on the spot. Wiry, not overly tall, he had gray hair and a smile on his face.
“I’m Mr. Goldhirsh.”
“Quinn Harper.”
“Ivan Harper’s girl?”
She nodded, regaining her feet.
“Heard about the fire. I’m glad you’re all okay.”
“Thanks.”
“You run, Quinn?”
“Run?”
“Do you like running with others as a form of exercise?”
“I run, yes, but only because I have to, to stay fit.”
“You’ll enjoy running with us. The Ryker Roadies meet on Sundays outside Phil’s Cafe. We have walkers or runners. I’ll give you a call to remind you.”
“Ah—”
“Do you like poetry?”
She shook her head.
“Books?”
She nodded, and he smiled.
“I have a book club meeting at my place Thursday nights at 7:00 p.m. We’re reading Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. I have a spare copy if you need it?”
Quinn actually didn’t have a response to that.
“I’ll drop it round.” He raised his hand and ran away from her.
She watched him go and wondered what the hell had just happened. In the space of half an hour, she’d had coffee with a group of women and then had the weirdest conversation with a man who jogged on the spot the entire time.
“The thing is, Buzz,” Quinn said to the dog who was now leaning on her legs, “I don’t really do this peopling stuff that well.”
“No time like the present to challenge that.”
Luke Trainer had snuck up on her. She looked away from his green eyes and the dimple that flashed in his handsome face. The humiliation of what her mother had done was still raw.
“This is a great town for dipping your toe into peopling.”
“Sure,” she got out of her dry throat.
