Coffee Shop Girl Page 4
Ellie stirred.
Jada turned to a clipboard she’d been scrawling notes on. “I’ll make sure to write as much as I can in the reports so it would be clear to any jury what my findings are. The injuries speak for themselves.”
Lizbeth’s cheeks flared apple red. I put a hand on her shoulder. “Lizbeth, don’t you want to get away?” I asked softly. “Isn’t that why you came here?”
Her lower lip trembled. “I don’t know. We just ran that night, and then we kept going. It . . . it seemed crazy to go back, then, with Ellie hurt. But to leave forever . . . “
Her words trailed away, leaving something unsaid.
Jada met my gaze. “Can I talk to you in the hall, Bethany?”
“Sure.”
She gave Lizbeth another warm, reassuring smile. “We’ll be right back.”
“They’re going to be physically fine. I can already tell that, if they truly traveled as far as you say they did. The scars that’ll last are probably more emotional, and they’ll run deep. Eventually, I’d like to see them in counseling, but for now, I’d focus on the most important thing: keeping them safe. That means one thing.” Jada met me eye to eye. “You’re going to have to make a decision.”
“About keeping them?”
“You can’t harbor them without telling their father. He may try to bring kidnapping charges against you.”
“Him?” I cried. “He beat them.”
“I know. And the photographs of the injuries will help the case against him, but just because you’re their half-sister doesn’t mean you can provide a better situation. Nor does it mean a judge would grant you custody. Jim can go to classes and prove himself under control and get them back. You need to decide what you’re going to do.”
“Jada, I’m not going to send them back.”
“So, you’re going to keep them? The coffee shop is failing even after you burned through your father’s insurance money. You can’t sell real estate, run the coffee shop, and support these girls. They need school. Stability. A table to eat on every night. You have none of that.”
“I have tables,” I muttered, but the rest of my retort stalled in my throat. She was right. Half right, anyway. I had tables; they were just in the shop. The shop that was a failing mess and would potentially drag me into a pit of debt I had no way to swim out of.
Case in point—I’d forgotten to eat lunch. How would I keep them fed?
A rush of overwhelm slipped through me. Keeping myself afloat had been hit-or-miss since Dad died. I tightened my arms around my chest.
“If Ellie even had a whiff of suspicion that I would send them back, she’d run away,” I said. “She may be young, but I think she’d rather die trying to scrape a life out in the mountains than go back to Jim. She’s always been stubborn. And Lizbeth? She used to be soft as cotton. Now she’s protecting him.”
“They often protect their abusers.”
“She’s not made for this.”
“She’s doing a damn fine job,” Jada said quietly. “Despite her loyalty to her father, she brought them here, didn’t she? She may have saved her sister. Ellie may have been in for more than a kick in the ribs and a backhand to the face.”
I winced, picturing it.
“What if I don’t take them?”
“Then foster care is the next-best choice.”
The words turned my stomach. “Foster care?” I hissed.
Jada put a hand on my arm. “I know it’s not an option you like, but it’s one you need to consider.”
“The foster care system broke my mother.”
“Or saved her. It depends on how you look at it. If she was in foster care, her home life must have been pretty ugly. Your father told me that Kat had mental-health issues that had never been addressed. You can’t throw that on the foster system. Bethany, if you want them out of Jim’s hands, and you can’t do it yourself—something that no one would ask or expect of you—then there are really good families that can keep them safe.”
“The nightmares—”
“There are always nightmares. But there are successes too. You just don’t hear about them.” Jada gave me a comforting squeeze on the arm. “Just think about it, all right?”
After a long, traitorous pause, I nodded. “I will.”
“And think about talking to Kinoshi. He and I have done some family-law cases not unlike this together. He’d be good to talk to.”
The thought of Kinoshi, a local lawyer, sent a shiver through me. A ripple of disbelief followed. How had things devolved to this so quickly?
“Are the three of you safe for now?” Jada asked.
“Yes.”
“What if he comes?”
“I’m in the middle of town.”
Her gaze tapered. “That doesn’t make you safe. I know you can take care of yourself, but be aware that he will probably come looking for them. If this guy isn’t stable, things could get ugly, and I don’t like knowing you’re alone at that shop with them.”
My thoughts flitted to Mav. Not entirely alone. At least whenever he’d be there.
“Thanks, Jada. We’ll take extra precautions.”
“I’m always here for you,” she said, lifting a long, skinny finger. “Always. But right now, you have a big decision to face. Start gathering the facts, and let me know if you need to talk about it. In the meantime, get them lots of fresh air. Keep them active and engaged. Kids grieve with their hands and feet. The more you give them to do, the less they’ll need to lash out. Can you do that?”
I’d have to figure something out. They weren’t toddlers. They could do things on their own. Maybe Lizbeth could help me barista, and Ellie could clean at night. A trip to the library would easily set Lizbeth up for weeks, but what about Ellie?
“We’ll figure it out.”
She smiled, and warmth and relief lingered in it. “Good. I like hearing that. Keep in touch, and send them my way this weekend. I need some help with the horses and in the barn. Ellie strikes me as the kind of girl who would get along great with my new colt.”
We drove toward a lush sunset in near silence. The thin, pale line of Lizbeth’s lips gave her away. No doubt she’d heard or listened to what Jada and I had said. If Ellie had heard, she gave no sign. I didn’t want to hide the truth from Lizbeth. She deserved to know what was going on. But I didn’t want to scare her, either.
Because I had no idea what I was going to do.
When I pulled into the back parking lot of the dark Frolicking Moose, my stomach sank. This catastrophe was always waiting. Always needing more than I could give.
Was parenting different?
Parenting abused kids?
Ellie climbed out and hurried to the back door with the blanket over her head. The only thing behind us was the endless expanse of the reservoir and Dad’s favorite canoe.
“I, uh, forgot to get dinner,” I said sheepishly. “How about the two of you watch a movie on my laptop upstairs while I go grab us something to eat?”
“Sure,” Lizbeth said, quickly adding, “thanks. Let me know if I can help at all. I mean, to make it easier. I’m not even that hungry.”
Her stomach growled.
I quirked an eyebrow at her.
She blushed. No doubt she was trying to make this easy, to be as small as possible, so they didn’t disturb my life too much. Her quick smile, a little too forced, made me sick to my stomach. Before Lizbeth could go, I grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
She whipped around a little too fast, eyes wide. I released her immediately.
“Sorry,” I said, “I . . . I didn’t think that through.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Her rushed words made me want to rake my nails down Jim’s face. How had Mama stayed married to him? “You heard me and Jada talking, didn’t you?”
Lizbeth’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth to deny it, but then stopped when I held up a hand and shook my head.
“Yes.”
<
br /> “You’ve done an amazing job so far, Lizbeth, keeping the both of you alive and getting here. You’re also far more intelligent than I am. So, it wouldn’t be very honest of me to lie to you and say everything was going to be a storybook from here on out.”
Her expression fell, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something back there. Rage, maybe. The same steel that Ellie showed every moment. Lizbeth had it too—only it was way back there. Deep. Livid. Stewing.
“Are you going to keep us?” she whispered, slumping in the front seat.
“Do you want me to?”
Her brow furrowed. The war returned to her gaze. “I-I think so. I’m not sure.”
“Do you want to return to Jim?”
“No. But . . .”
She said it so quickly, so softly, that for several moments I could only stare at her. “What’s stopping you?” I asked.
Anguish filled her gaze. “Mama,” she murmured.
Maybe Lizbeth felt some obligation to Jim. An allegiance or responsibility to take care of him, or something. Or maybe it was being drawn back to the only place Mama had ever existed for her. Severing Jim from her life could mean burying Mama all over again. I’d come to terms with Mama’s death years ago, thanks to Dad, but Lizbeth hadn’t had that support. Both of them seemed to still be reeling from her absence.
That only added to my fear.
“I don’t know if I can give you what you deserve and need,” I whispered, rushing to add, “I’m barely scraping by as it is. The coffee shop is . . . not doing well. Even before you came, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to keep it open. And there’s the question of legality.”
“I won’t be split up from Ellie.”
“I know. I just don’t know that I can promise to take care of you the way you need. I can . . . I can barely keep groceries stocked for myself,” I mumbled.
Jada’s words ran through my mind.
There are really good families that can keep them safe.
Could I keep them safe? Run the coffee shop, get them to school, afford a place to live that wasn’t a single-room studio above a store? What we had here could only be a very temporary bandage. The three of us living in a tiny room worked for now, but we’d soon need our own space. On some level, in Lizbeth’s eyes, I could see that she understood.
“I’ll work,” she said hastily. “I’ll do whatever. I can sleep on the floor and run the coffee shop. I’ll even homeschool so you don’t have to worry about driving me anywhere. I swear I can make it so I’m almost invisible and—”
I stopped her with a hand on her leg. “You deserve better than invisibility, Lizbeth. Nor would I ever ask that of you.”
Lizbeth pulled in a deep breath. A hint of tears sparkled in her eyes. “Tell me before you tell Ellie, whatever you decide. I’ll need time to make a plan that will keep her from running away.”
Ellie peered through the glass door into the shop, the blanket still over her head.
Stated so matter-of-factly, the words felt like a knife through my stomach.
“Of course.”
Lizbeth hesitated, then opened the car door and stepped out. “Thanks.”
The gravel ground under her feet as she walked inside, Ellie disappearing through the doorway with her. Within moments, the lamp flicked on upstairs. I stared at the gentle glow of the light before throwing the car into reverse with a deep sigh.
At least I wouldn’t be so lonely.
6
Maverick
When I strolled into the coffee shop the next morning, the smell of coffee beans greeted me.
Bethany stood behind the counter, hat-free. She looked at me, then the clock. Light barely tinged the horizon outside. Despite the wide-open door, I suspected she hadn’t thought a customer would stroll in at 5:30 a.m.
“You’re . . . up early,” she said.
No yoga pants today. A navy summer dress rippled in an early breeze, waving around her curved hips. Her hair billowed around her shoulders when she moved, falling to the middle of her arm. She seemed to be counting something behind the register. Bright-red lipstick outlined a pair of lips I couldn’t look away from.
“My team is on the East Coast,” I said, forcibly shifting my attention. Team being the new virtual assistant who would help me get this business running. While he worked on the setup there, I’d figure everything out here. “We’ll be getting started with meetings soon. Mind if I—”
I motioned toward the hole of an office I’d have to fold myself into.
She shrugged. “Go ahead. Do you want something to drink?”
“Black, two creams, no sugar.” Halfway to the room, I stopped and looked back. “How are you today, by the way?”
The question hung in the air between us, along with my acute curiosity as to why she looked so surprised that I’d asked. The awkward stillness lasted for a breath before she swallowed and said, “Ah, fine. Thanks.”
“Good.”
“You?”
“Good. Slept on the deck last night. There’s nothing quite like a mountain night in the summer.”
She softened into a half-smile. “As long as it’s warm, I would agree.”
My gaze roved the counters behind her, then I made a sound in the back of my throat. The machines were old and not much to brag about. Maintenance must be tricky and cost a lot. She could highly benefit from an investment into better machines, but she’d be hard to convince of that.
With one last nod, I disappeared into her office and shut the door. She hadn’t been kidding. There wasn’t even room to slide the chair back, so my knees butted up against the . . . desk—more like a wooden board cut to fit the width of the space, then supported and nailed into place by other boards.
She’d cleared it off, though, leaving just enough room for my laptop and a few papers.
I had a feeling she’d be worth it.
7
Bethany
I stared at my office door, flabbergasted.
With a blink, I turned back to the coffee machine and drew in a deep breath. Was he really that nice of a guy? Nothing about his inquiry felt like a pick-up line. But such a sprawling man didn’t strike me as the type to just be . . . kind.
Probably better that Maverick was holed up in the office so I didn’t stare at him. Drooling, almost, but I didn’t think he’d noticed that when he first sauntered in. As if he knew he looked like a Viking and didn’t mind using it to his advantage.
Maybe he wanted something from me.
No. It wasn’t like that, either. He’d seemed genuine when he’d asked about my day. Now I could just stare at the closed door and feel even crazier. Plus, everything was going to smell like pine in there, and my brain would never think again.
Thank you, attractive male dominance.
At least I’d worn lipstick.
I wondered what he saw when he looked at the shop. He certainly had studied it just now when he looked around. That wasn’t the first time I’d noticed it. As if he knew what it all meant, when I wasn’t even sure I did.
Did others see the same warmth and charm? Maybe it was a bit cluttered, but the place had a homey feel. Smelled like Dad. And sometimes like fish on a really hot day, but no one had ever complained. Besides, it was comfortable. Familiar. Like a constant hug from him.
That’s all that mattered.
The sound of the bell drew me back to the shop, and I turned as someone came through the drive-through, relieved to throw my thoughts into anything but Maverick.
The morning rush congregated as usual, but this time I was prepared. My flustered days were firmly behind me now that I had enough milk and the machines were running. But I still couldn’t stop yawning.
Even if the girls hadn’t shown up, I probably wouldn’t have gotten much sleep. The siren call of the real estate program still beckoned me, but the massive pile of debt always smacked it down. The stack of mail stared at me from the counter. I was far behind.
In more ways than one.
Sweet heaven, but I needed an employee who would stick around.
Shoving that thought aside, I stepped into the storage room to grab more lids. When I returned, Maverick stood at the counter, taking all the air as he peered out the drive-through window. He looked at me as if untangling his thoughts.
Making my tone nonchalant was no simple feat. “Hey. Meetings go well?”
“As well as can be expected. Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
The deep register of his voice was easygoing, but I still felt myself tense. I kept the counter between us. The intensity of his gaze weakened my knees.
“Sure.”
“Do you have an operations manual?”
“A what?”
“An operations manual.”
“What’s that?”
A quick grin flashed across his face. “I’ll take that as a no.”
I glanced toward the back, mumbling the words operations manual under my breath. Dad kept a binder full of odds and ends in the storage room. Warranties. Random notes he took. Phone numbers scribbled with a name but no indication who the person was. That was Dad. He knew everyone, and everyone knew him, but give him a task with details and he was lost. The fact that I’d made it to eighteen was a literal miracle.
“I might,” I drawled. “But if I do, I have no idea where it is.”
He seemed to consider that. “Your employee who left the other day. How did you train him?”
“Myself. I showed him how to run everything. Real-time training.” My shoulders straightened. “One-on-one.”
That’s the sort of excellent service you get here, I almost said, then recalled the dry scone and water bottle on the day we met and thought better of it.
“What would he have done if he had a question while you were gone?” he asked.
I blinked. The question didn’t make sense because it had no grounding in reality. “I’m rarely gone during open hours.”
His eyebrows rose. “You live here?”
“Upstairs.”
He took that in smoothly, but wheels turned in his head. Should I have told him that? He didn’t strike me as the creepy type. Not that I’d mind him prowling around more often. My cheeks heated, but his gaze had dropped to the stack of letters next to the cash register. I stepped toward them, but kept from shoving them out of sight by sheer willpower.