Hooked on You Page 2

  She might be broke and in serious need of some vitamin D, not to mention shedding a few pounds, but at least she wasn’t in Maple Falls. The only way she’d planned to return was after she had proven to herself and everyone else that she was different. Successful. Responsible. And nothing like Tracey. Thanks to her grandmother not acting her age, Riley’s plan was now in shambles.

  Riley turned and stared at the ruined peacock feather and the golden threads she had painstakingly glued over thick, lifted curls of purple, blue, ochre, and green acrylic paint. Poking through the colorful swirls in what seemed like a random pattern but had taken hours to design were the glossy black-and-white magazine pictures of city life. The comfort of nature’s colors clashing with the harshness of human constructs. She loved to explore opposite concepts in her art using unexpected materials—fabric, feathers, a variety of paints, anything with texture, and especially substances that on the surface were easily discarded things yet could be transformed into something beautiful.

  A sigh escaped. There’d been a time when she thought her art was unique, and in the unsophisticated town of Maple Falls, it was. But not here. Mixed-media artists were everywhere, and getting herself noticed in a sea of aspiring creatives had been beyond difficult. But she wasn’t going to give up. There wasn’t time to fix the piece the way she wanted to, but she would tackle it when she returned. Right now she had to go take care of her grandmother, which meant working at Knots and Tangles again.

  A car horn sounded below, jolting Riley’s thoughts. She’d never imagined she’d be working there again. During her teen years she spent hours in her grandmother’s yarn shop. Not only working but practicing her art in the all-purpose room in the back. The old yarn store had been her job and her haven. But even she could see that it was a fifty-year millstone around her grandmother’s neck. Mimi needed to sell the store and retire. Riley had mentioned it to her over the years only to be instantly shut down. Maple Falls was in decline when Riley moved away, and from little hints she gathered during conversations with Mimi, things hadn’t improved.

  Riley thought her grandmother not only needed to sell the store but also needed to put her large house on the market and move in with Myrtle. Or maybe Myrtle could move in with Mimi. Riley wasn’t naive enough to think her grandmother would come to New York with her, but Mimi moving in with one of her good friends was a possibility. They were both widows, and paring down expenses would benefit them both. If there was something Riley was an expert at, it was pinching her pennies.

  While her brain knew retirement and consolidation were in Mimi’s best interest, the thought of the store being in someone else’s hands pinched at her heart. She shoved the feeling away, as she normally did when she grew sentimental. It was time her grandmother embraced change. This visit was a prime opportunity for Riley to convince her of that.

  She felt an unexpected spark of hope. She had a plan now—help Mimi heal and convince her to sell her shop and the house. All three tasks wouldn’t be easy, but she was determined. Once her grandmother unchained herself from the past, Riley could too—and when she left Maple Falls this time, it would be for good.

  She crossed the small living room, opened her ancient laptop, and started to search for a flight. As she surfed, another thought popped into her mind. But no—she didn’t have to worry about running into him. Like her, he’d moved on from Maple Falls. Still, remembering the crush she’d had on him in high school—one he had no idea about—caused a tiny flutter in her stomach. Talk about silly. She hadn’t given him a single thought since she left Maple Falls. Okay, maybe one . . . or fifty thoughts since she’d left, but not any recently. And there was no reason for her to think about Hayden Price again now. She put him out of her mind and booked her flight to Arkansas.

  * * *

  “Erma Jean McAllister, you need Jesus.”

  Erma set her cell phone on the counter and looked at her friend of close to sixty-five years. She tapped her chest with two fingers. “I have Jesus. Right in here.”

  “Then you need a double portion.” Myrtle Benson straightened the business cards on the counter next to the small antique cash register that was just for show. A working adding machine from the eighties was right next to it. “Good thing we have evening service tonight.”

  Erma wheeled herself from behind the counter, trying not to knock down a display of knitting needles with her outstretched, plaster-covered leg. She was proud that her little store, Knots and Tangles, was one of the original businesses in Maple Falls and at one time had the most yarn and fiber art supplies within a one-hundred-fifty-mile radius. Her mother owned the shop before Erma, and her grandmother had started the business. A woman entrepreneur was almost unheard of back then. Erma had worked here since she was twelve, and very little of the shop had changed since then. The place was full to the brim, and that was the way she liked it.

  Her wheelchair, however, did not. “What are you prattling on about?” she said.

  Myrtle sighed. “That phone call you just made to Riley. Land sakes, woman, you know I can cancel my trip anytime.”

  “And let you disappoint Jorge?”

  “His name is Javier. And I’m sure he’s long gone from the ship anyway. You know those jobs can be temporary.”

  Erma caught the dreamy look in Myrtle’s eyes, the same one she’d had when she came home from her cruise eight months ago after meeting Jorge, er, Javier, the silver-haired—and silver-tongued, apparently—maître d’ at one of the fancy restaurants on the cruise ship. Erma couldn’t remember the name of the place, but she did remember how Myrtle wouldn’t stop talking about the food—and the service.

  “You’ve been looking forward to this trip for so long.”

  “I haven’t heard from him since my last letter.” Myrtle stuck out her lower lip, covered in a soft pink lipstick that coordinated with her oversize handbag. “I might as well cancel.”

  “If you cancel, I’m going in your place.”

  “With a broken leg?”

  Erma gave her a pointed look. “In a heartbeat.”

  “You might just do it too.” Myrtle grimaced. “Fine. You win, as usual. But that still doesn’t make it right that you acted like it was an emergency and Riley had to come right away.”

  “It is an emergency.” She gestured to the overstuffed shelves and baskets in the store. “How am I supposed to maneuver around this place in this thing?” She slammed her hands on the wheelchair armrests, which jolted the chair and made her leg twinge. Uh-oh, that was more than a twinge. “I need a pain pill.”

  “Right away.” Myrtle rushed to get a glass of water from the bathroom sink in the back, then handed it and a pill to Erma. “Bea has already told you she can help out.”

  Erma swallowed the pill, then leaned back in the wheelchair. Bea was Erma’s closest friend, but Myrtle came in second. She was grateful for their offers of help, but she needed to refuse them this time. “It’s high time Riley came home for a visit. Nine years is too long.”

  “So you took advantage of your injury to get her back here.” Myrtle gave her a reproving look. “You know why she left.”

  Erma lifted her chin. “She can have an art career here.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  She knew exactly what Myrtle was referring to—her no-good daughter who hadn’t returned since she disappeared fifteen years ago. Riley still carried the burden of that rejection, even if she stuffed it down behind a facade of small-town girl turned big-city artist. “I just want her home, Myrtle. Is that too much to ask?”

  Her friend’s blue eyes softened, the creases in the corners deepening. “It might be.”

  Erma didn’t want to hear that.

  The bell over the door chimed, and both women turned to see Hayden Price walk into the store. If Erma were fifty years younger and hadn’t known not only Hayden’s parents but also his grandparents and great-grandparents, she wouldn’t mind taking a crack at the handsome young man. As it was, she coul
d still appreciate his fine form, which looked even better in a baseball uniform. He wasn’t as winsome as her Gus had been in his day, but he was definitely easy on the eyes. I might be old, but I ain’t dead.

  “Hi, Hayden,” Myrtle said, casually patting the back of her short gray hair. “What brings you by?”

  Erma smirked. Seemed like she wasn’t the only senior woman who thought Hayden was the bee’s knees.

  “I came to check on our center fielder.” Hayden walked over to Erma and crouched in front of her. “How’s the leg?”

  “Tolerable.”

  “She just took a pain pill,” Myrtle blurted.

  Erma shot her an annoyed look. “Don’t you have a cruise to pack for?”

  “I guess I do.” She grabbed her pink purse, which looked big enough to house half the contents of the yarn store, and headed for the door. “Hasta la, um, whatever.”

  “You might want to brush up on your Spanish for Jorge,” Erma called out.

  “It’s Javier!” The door shut behind her.

  Hayden chuckled. “You two are a mess.”

  “Sugar, you have no idea.”

  He stood, still smiling, a shock of his thick blond hair falling over his forehead. Then all traces of humor disappeared. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

  She waved him off. “Not your fault.”

  “I was the third base coach. And I’m the head coach. I should have told you to stay on second.”

  “I wouldn’t have listened to you anyway.” She looked up at him, smiling as she remembered the split second before her leg ended up going in a direction God never intended. “Did you hear the crowd cheering?”

  “They were yelling at you to go back.”

  “But I was already committed—”

  He held up his hand. “Let’s not go down that road again. I came by to take you to lunch if you’re so inclined. Today’s special at the Sunshine Diner is liver and onions.”

  “Ugh, who likes that?”

  “I do.” He looked slightly offended.

  “You’re too young for old people food.” Erma tried to move toward him and knocked over a display of T-shirt yarn. “Oh, for goodness’ sake.”

  “I’ll fix it.”

  She watched as he made a valiant attempt to put all the skeins of yarn in the cube she’d knocked over. They had been neatly stacked—one of the few displays that was—but now they were being haphazardly squished into the space.

  “There,” he said, cramming the last skein of yarn into the box. “No harm done. So, are we on for lunch? I only have forty-five minutes, and then I have to get back to the store.”

  Erma was about to tell him she wasn’t hungry when an idea jumped into her mind. Erma Jean, you’re a genius. “I’m not all that hungry, but there is something you can do for me.”

  “Name it.”

  She wished there were a way to convince him not to feel guilty over what happened. Truth be told, she should have known better than to attempt that slide. The accident brought home the fact that she wasn’t as fit as she used to be, which was another reason she wanted Riley back. Although she’d never admit it out loud, Myrtle was right—she was taking advantage of her accident to coax Riley back to the fold. She was worried about her granddaughter. The child had always been a loner, and that tendency hadn’t changed since her big move to New York. Riley needed fresh air and companionship. And potential companionship was standing right in front of Erma, wrapped up in a charming and attractive package.

  “I need you to pick up someone from the airport for me,” she told Hayden. “Either tonight or tomorrow, if you’re free.”

  “Just so happens I am.” He grinned. “All you need to do is let me know when.”

  “I’ll send you a text.” As the creator and coach of the newly minted church softball team, he had given all the players his cell phone number. For years Erma had been resistant to texting, preferring to pick up the phone and call whoever she wanted to talk to. But she acknowledged that sometimes it was convenient, especially if you wanted to avoid any unwelcome questions.

  “That works.” He put his hands into the cargo pockets of his shorts. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat? I can bring you something if you don’t feel like going to the diner.”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “All right. Rain check then.” He headed for the front of the store, then turned around and looked at her, smiling again—Hayden Price’s typical expression. Not only was he handsome but he was unfailingly optimistic and had been since he was a young kid. The perfect contrast to her serious but sweeter than peaches-and-cream granddaughter. He waved at Erma, then left for the diner.

  She smiled, steepling her fingers. Erma couldn’t believe it—a broken leg might be just the thing she needed to help her granddaughter.

  Chapter 2

  Hayden walked through the sliding doors at Clinton National Airport and then glanced at his watch: 10:30 p.m. He was a few minutes early. He walked toward a group of tables and chairs near the coffee bar and sat down facing the escalators, waiting for Erma’s mystery visitor to appear.

  He stretched out his legs and thought about the text Erma sent him earlier that day with the flight details and thanking him for doing this favor for her. If she’d asked him to jump off the top of the Knots and Tangles roof, he probably would have—or at least given it serious thought. She’d told him dozens of times since she broke her leg not to blame himself, but he couldn’t help it. He knew the kind of pain an injury like that could cause, and it was probably more intense considering her age. It was his fault she had to deal with it. Why he hadn’t stopped a seventy-plus-year-old woman from rounding the bases, he didn’t know. Not at the time anyway. He realized later he’d let his competitive nature get the best of him. He needed to work on that. The days of wanting to win at all costs were over—forever.

  Picking up someone from the airport hardly made up for what happened, but he was glad to do it. He just wished she hadn’t been so cagey about who he was supposed to bring back to Maple Falls. Erma hadn’t given him a name. All she said was the time the flight was supposed to arrive, along with “You’ll recognize the person when you see them.”

  Despite her insistence on keeping her visitor a secret, he wondered if he was picking up her granddaughter, Riley. He’d considered asking Erma outright but decided to let the woman have her fun. There was a chance he was picking up someone other than Riley, who hadn’t returned to Maple Falls since . . . Actually, he had no idea when Riley had last been in her hometown.

  A few minutes later, he saw several people taking the escalator from the gate section of the airport to the lobby, indicating that the plane had landed. It was the last arrival of the night. He rose from the chair and strolled toward the escalator, keeping a good distance but studying everyone who had arrived. He didn’t recognize any of the passengers as they walked to the baggage carousels behind him. Hayden moved closer to the escalator, and soon it was empty. Huh. He hoped he hadn’t missed Erma’s guest.

  As soon as he started to head to the gates, he saw someone appear at the top of the escalator. When she was halfway down, he smiled. Well, well, he was right after all. Riley McAllister had returned.

  She pulled a small roller suitcase behind her, and a large red duffel bag was slung over her shoulder. A small brown leather purse was strapped across her torso. She was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt that looked suspiciously like a man’s, slim faded jeans, and hippie sandals with big buckles on them. But while her outfit was casual, the tense expression on her face was not. Riley was home, but she didn’t look happy about it.

  He met her at the bottom of the escalator. “Hey, Riley.”

  She looked at him, her head tilting and her frown deepening, as if she didn’t know who he was. That pricked his ego a bit. Who in Maple Falls and the great central Arkansas area didn’t know Hayden Price? The small-town boy who made it big in the minor leagues, then went on to the majors only to blow out his shoulder w
hen he threw the opening pitch of his first professional game. Then again, it had been almost a decade since he’d seen Riley. A lot had happened since then, but he didn’t think he’d changed that much.

  “Hayden?” she finally said.

  “That’s me.”

  “What are you doing here?” She dragged the strap of the duffel higher on her shoulder, sounding a little annoyed.

  “I’m your ride. Erma can’t exactly drive right now.” He pushed away the niggle of guilt. “She asked me to carry you home.”

  “Oh.” She glanced around the airport, which was nearly empty now. “I offered to get an Uber or a taxi, but she said she would take care of it. I didn’t think she’d send you, though.”

  Ouch.

  “I mean, I figured she’d ask one of her buddies to pick me up.” An awkward pause. “I didn’t know you two were acquainted with each other.”

  “Everyone knows Erma.” He shifted on his feet. Not wanting to give Riley the opportunity to ask for more specifics, he added, “I’ll get your bag from the carousel.”

  “This is all I brought.” She held both the duffel and the suitcase in a death grip.

  Obviously, she didn’t need or want help. Fine, less work for him, and he pretended not to be put out that she had refused his assistance.

  “I’m parked out front,” he said. “We don’t have to walk far.”

  She nodded and headed for the sliding door, her gaze straight ahead like she was a woman on a mission, and he was suddenly transported back to high school. To him, Riley McAllister always stood out from the other girls in his high school, not only for her looks, although he’d always thought she was attractive. She was taller than average, with ash-brown hair that was usually pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes were her most striking feature, large and bright, like blue topaz. Right now they looked just as hard.