“I don’t know.” Brooke felt unable to explain away her unease. On the one hand, she longed to have a place of her own, where she could be independent. She was twenty-eight years old! But on the other hand, there was her family, and all their expectations.
“I’ll tell you what,” Emily said. “I won’t advertise it until the new year. That’ll give you a few weeks to make a decision.”
Brooke smiled her relief. “Thanks.”
“She wants a love nest,” Monica said casually.
Both Brooke and Emily groaned.
The bell jingled again, and Brooke glanced over her shoulder—and did a double take. Whitney Winslow had stepped inside, looking over the flower arrangements and hometown crafts with interest.
Brooke stood up. “Hi, Whitney.”
She glanced behind the counter, then her face broke into a wide smile. “Hello, ladies! I saw the display but didn’t connect your name, Monica.”
“Can’t blame you,” Monica said, going past the counter into the showroom. “We only met a couple times.”
“I really like your merchandise.” Whitney strolled through the side of the showroom devoted to unusual gifts. “These are all locally made?”
“I sell them on consignment,” Monica said, following her. “The wedding quilts are a big seller, along with the knitted and crocheted layettes.”
“I’m interested in the leather,” Whitney mused.
Brooke gave a snort of laughter, then realized she might be offending the woman.
Whitney met her eyes and grinned. “Oh, sorry, guess that could be taken many ways. But the tooling on these purses is just so . . . exquisite. Who’s the artist?”
Before anyone could answer, a young couple came through the door. Whitney went back to browsing, and Brooke and Emily exchanged a glance. The two customers were holding hands, barely able to keep their eyes off each other. They were newly engaged, they explained, and wanted to make an appointment to discuss flower arrangements for their wedding.
When at last they left, Whitney came back to the women and gave a happy sigh. “Romance! That’s what Valentine Valley is all about, right? How can Mr. Galimi and his friends not see that my store could be a part of that?”
Brooke shrugged. “Maybe his wife makes him have sex with the lights off, and he’s never seen her nightgowns.”
They all laughed.
Whitney’s gaze strayed back to Josh’s purses. “I have to know who the artist is. Maybe I can give him some sales, and he can help be a bridge between the townspeople and me.”
“He’s my brother, Josh,” Brooke said.
“How perfect.” Whitney opened her purse and pulled out a gold business card case. “Can you give him my card? I’d love to talk to him.”
“Actually, you met him that night at the diner,” Brooke reminded her. “He helped me get you out of there.”
“Ooh.” Whitney’s eyes widened. “I had wondered who he was. He seemed to disappear like Superman reverting to Clark Kent.”
“Superman?” Brooke echoed with a grimace. “Let’s not say that to his face, okay?”
Whitney laughed. “Deal, as long as you give him my card.”
Brooke agreed, but after Whitney had left, she turned to her friends, and said, “Can you see my brother making naughty S&M leather? I don’t think so.”
“Now who’s the one judging?” Emily said, hands on her hips. “You don’t have any idea what she might want from him.”
They all looked at each other—and grinned.
The following Monday, Brooke’s dad was running an errand to a motor-supply store in Carbondale, so Brooke drove her mom to an appointment with Doc Ericson in Valentine. As they arrived back home, they could see Josh walking across the yard, Tyler trailing behind him at a sloooow pace. Brooke drove around to the ramp built to bypass the kitchen stairs, parking and helping her mom use her walker to get inside.
“You’re not going to work with Tyler?” Sandy asked.
“Josh and Adam can deal with him today. I thought we were starting on the cookie dough we mean to freeze before Christmas.”
Sandy eyed her. “Hiding from the boy already?”
Brooke grinned. “Not at all. He’s good at letting you know he’s only here because he has to be, but he’s more interested than he lets on. Smart, too. I just thought Josh should take a turn, so I could hear all about it.”
“So you think our stint as a community-service ranch is going well?”
“I do.” Brooke sat on a stool at the breakfast counter and considered her mother. “It just feels good to make a difference in someone’s life, you know? I mean, look at Adam.” She hesitated, realizing it might be a bad idea to discuss him, but it was too late now. “He was in even more trouble than Tyler, but Coach McKee took a risk and ended up making a man out of him. Adam says Coach changed his life. I wish more kids could have that opportunity. Tyler’s not bad, but his mom can’t be around much, and it’s too easy for him to hang with guys who are only interested in having a good time. Who knows if his brother is getting sucked back into the wrong crowd, too? That’s got to be bad for Tyler to see.”