Secretly Smitten (27 page)

“What’s wrong?” Sally asked, throwing a stitch onto her waiting needle.

“What do you mean?” Anna asked, embarrassed that her facial expression must have betrayed her private thoughts.

“You looked upset just now.”

“Oh, not upset. Just trying to think of ways to bring more interest to the shop. I love this place, but it’s pretty expensive to maintain. It would be nice to bring in some more revenue.”

No one said anything for a few minutes, then Debbie broke the silence.

“I was reading an article the other day about a woman who owned a knitting shop, and to do something different she offered spinning classes—” Sally opened her mouth to say something, but Debbie held up her hand. “And she raised her own sheep right behind the shop.”

Anna had just taken a drink of coffee and choked on it. Sally’s jaw clamped shut.

“I didn’t say you had to do it; I just said I read an article about it,” Debbie said with a chuckle.

“But where would I put sheep here in town?” Anna said.

“You’d have to move,” Maria, a newcomer to their knitting group, said.

Anna was already shaking her head. “I can’t afford to move.”

More silence.

“I like that idea of spinning classes, though. Just need to figure out where to order wool.” Anna offered a weak smile, trembling slightly within at the idea of something new and different. Still, she needed time to think it over, pray about it, see how the Lord would lead.

“Well, I think it’s a wonderful idea—” Sally began.

The bell over the door jangled, and Anna looked up to see rosy-cheeked Tess and Zoe bundled in thick woolens and boots. They brushed the snow from their coats, stomped the snow from their boots, and ventured inside.

“—sheep or no sheep,” Sally finished.

“Girls, what a nice surprise,” Anna said, getting up to hug them.

“We were out doing some Christmas shopping, so we decided to stop in,” Tess said, picking up a sugar cookie and pouring a cup of hot coffee.

“What’s this about sheep?” Zoe asked, pouring hot apple cider in a cup.

Sally filled them in on the conversation.

“Oh, Mom, that’s a great idea,” Tess said, getting caught up in the moment.

“Well, maybe the spinning part—”

“No, raising the sheep too! That would be such a novelty for your shop. It would attract kids too, so their mothers could shop for yarn.”

“It really is a cool idea, Mom. Never heard of anything like that around here, or even in Stowe and some of the other towns,” Zoe added, pulling off her scarf.

Anna felt this conversation was careening out of control. She didn’t want the hype to get ahead of her and muddy her thoughtful consideration of the matter.

She raised her hand and said, “Nothing to get excited about at this point. Just the germ of an idea. I need to pray about it and think it through.”

Zoe sagged into an empty chair. “Give it up, ladies. Once she says she has to pray about it, there’s no talking her into something.”

Sally shrugged. “It’s a good idea, that’s all I know.”

“It’s working well for the people in that article,” Debbie said.

“I like the idea of sheep,” Maria joined in.

The ladies went back to knitting while Tess and Zoe followed Anna into her office. Anna tucked away some shipping receipts in folders and stuck them in a cabinet. She turned to see her girls standing there.

“Something on your minds?” she asked.

“Well, it’s that whole thing with Aunt Violet and Grandma and David,” Tess said.

Anna sighed. “Now, girls—”

“Come on, Mom. Grandma has the right to know,” Zoe said.

“I think so too,” Tess chimed in.

“I’ll think about it,” Anna said, making a full resolve in her spirit to leave things alone. It would be best for everyone.

“Here’s your grocery delivery,” Anna said, unpacking the food from the sacks onto Michael’s kitchen countertop.

He tried to hobble over and help her, but she shooed him away. “I can handle this. I’ll make you a sandwich while I’m here.”

“I told you I’m much better. You don’t need to wait on me.” No longer using his crutches, he limped over to the table. “I’m going to drive into town later today.”

“You think you’re ready?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Well, just be careful and don’t push too soon. I’m just down the road if you need me to pick up anything for you.”

He watched her as she carefully unpacked the groceries and put them away. She truly had a servant’s heart. Unfortunately, from the way he saw it, she had no interest in him other than as a neighbor in need.

She placed the plate with his sandwich and chips on the table, along with a glass of iced tea. “While you eat your lunch, I’ll get your mail.”

“You’re spoiling me.”

“Don’t get used to it; it’s short-lived. You said so yourself.” She pulled on her coat. “Be right back.”

He was beginning to wish he hadn’t said anything. But he couldn’t fake it. Maybe he’d bang his foot again so she’d keep coming . . . Something about Anna kept drawing him to her.

“Oh my, it’s getting colder out there,” she said, brushing the snow from her hair. Taking off her shoes, she walked over and handed Michael the mail as he sat on the sofa in the living room.

“Thanks.” He thumbed through the envelopes and spotted one marked
RETURN TO SENDER
. He sighed.

“Something wrong?”

“What? Uh, oh no, nothing’s wrong.” Should he tell her? She was a friend and had done so much for him.

“Are you sure?” Anna sat down in the recliner facing him.

Another sigh. “I have a son. I was gone a lot when he was growing up, and he resented me for that. When his mom died, he blamed me for that too. She died of a heart attack, but despite what the medical personnel told us, Christopher couldn’t help thinking if I’d been home and we’d gotten her to the hospital sooner . . .”

“I’m so sorry. Relationships can be tricky.”

“Yeah. He’s twenty-two now. I haven’t seen him for five years. I send letters to his last known address, but they always come back.”

Compassion filled her eyes, and Michael wondered if he’d revealed something too personal. Anna didn’t need to hear about his problems. No doubt she had some of her own.

“Well, that’s enough about me—”

“I’m truly sorry, Michael. I’ll pray for you and your son. Did you say his name is Christopher?”

“Yes. Thank you.” It touched him deeply that Anna offered to pray for them.

A moment of silence hovered between them.

“Now, fair is fair. I’ve told you the woes of my family. Do you have anything you want to tell me?” he asked.

“As a matter of fact”—she paused and licked her lips— “I do.”

Anna relayed the earlier conversation she’d had in her shop about the sheep. She waited a moment. “Of course, I’m praying about it. But it’s such a big undertaking. I don’t have the facilities for it. While it seems like a good idea, it also seems out of reach.”

Michael rubbed his jaw. “Well, now, I don’t know about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you’re really interested, I have five acres of ground with a barn, no house, at the edge of town. I bought it at a good price as an investment before my mom got sick. Thought I’d let the equity build up and then sell it. If the railroad comes to town, it should turn a good profit. Anyway, it’s idle for now. You could take your sheep there and care for them. See if you like dealing with them or if it’s too much hassle.”

Michael couldn’t deny his excitement at the possibility. It would give him more time to be with Anna, get to know her without the pressures of dating.

“I’ve been doing some work out there, so I have electricity in the barn,” he continued. “There’s a well, so you’d have no trouble with water. You’d just need to get hay, some minerals, whatever it takes to keep sheep healthy, and you’re good to go.”

“Wow. I didn’t see that one coming.”

“It might not be a perfect setup, but it would work. And with me working part-time, I’d be happy to help when I got off work.”

“No, no,” Anna said. “I’ll not have you doing my work. And we’d need to settle how much I would owe you, all that.” She sighed. “I just don’t know.”

“Anna Thomas, after all you’ve done for me, you won’t let me offer my land to you. That’s what friends do. And that land is doing nothing for anyone right now.”

“But this would be ongoing. I could never take advantage of you that way.”

“Look into it,” he suggested. “Decide how many sheep you’d need to start with. Research the best kind of sheep for your needs, check out the price for each one. Since it’s wintertime, they won’t be grazing outside, so you’ll need to check into the cost of hay. I’m sure you could learn a lot by talking to some farmers in the area. Once you check on all that, if you’re still interested, let me know. I’m sure we can work out something.”

“That’s a good idea.” She grabbed her handbag.

“And check with Phil McCreedy at the farm up the road. Any guy who makes milk deliveries with a horse and buggy for a bit of nostalgia knows how to think outside the box. I’ll bet he could give you some pointers.”

“That’s another good idea. Thanks.” She stood. “I guess I’d better be going. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, Anna,” Michael said, standing.

Anna turned back around. “Also, if you could help me pray about this, I’d appreciate it.”

“You got it.” He waved and closed the door behind her. He would pray about it, all right. Hopefully, his wouldn’t be a selfish prayer.

Anna trudged through the melting snow and considered the train depot building. It looked like everyone in town had turned up for the workday. The RailAmerica people would be here soon to evaluate whether Smitten would get one of the stops on the line. And why shouldn’t it? It was the most beautiful depot she had ever seen. Clay-colored bricks, green doors. Securing the deal with RailAmerica could change everything for the town. They’d have so much to celebrate at the upcoming bicentennial. Aunt Violet and the committee had been working hard for months to make sure they did the town proud.

The unseasonably warm temperature this weekend hovered in the midforties. It was a far cry from the cold and snow they’d been having. With the bright sunshine and slight heat wave, it seemed a perfect day for another town workday.

Anna joined the other ladies in setting up food on the oak counter at the ticket office in the depot.

“What ya got there?” Clad in jeans, a warm jacket, a scarf, and gloves, Michael stepped up beside her.

“Michael, what are you doing here?”

“What? I’m a good citizen. I want to help out on workday.”

“But your ankle—”

“Is fine. I’ve been down long enough.” He pulled off his jacket, scarf, and gloves and placed them in a pile with others. “Besides, pounding nails on a hardwood floor is not going to hurt my leg—unless, of course, I hit it with a hammer.”

His grin caused her heart to somersault—again. “I guess you’re right.” She held up her pot. “To answer your question, this is chili. I thought we might get hungry while we’re working.”

“Leave it to you to think of that.”