Love on Main Street: A Snow Creek Christmas Page 2

  Please, please go away, Serafina wished, but he didn’t budge. Besides, by now several passers-by had joined the elderly trio on the bench outside the shop.

  Apparently “The Travails of Serafina” was today’s matinee.

  Tears stung the back of her eyes. She felt drained. Weary to her bones. Until this moment, Serafina hadn’t allowed herself to think too much about what she was doing. When Drew betrayed her, when everything she’d been working toward for so long was suddenly gone, all she could think about was escape. So when the lawyer called with the news that her aunt had left her this shop, Magic Baubles, it seemed like fate had intervened.

  Except if there was one thing Serafina did not believe in, it was fate. Or magic. You make your own luck, her stepfather always used to say. She took a breath and dragged the suitcase up the steps, bump, bump, bump, bump, bump.

  Finally. Sweating and breathing hard, Serafina was nonetheless just a little proud that she’d made it without help. She started to root around in her oversized purse to search for the key to the store.

  “I do believe it’s open,” said the Cowboy, making a big show of opening the door for her with another tip of his hat. “Ma’am,” he said, in an exaggerated country twang.

  Only then did Serafina notice the lights were on, and an Open sign was in the window.

  “Much obliged, pardner,” she replied.

  As she entered the store she caught her breath. It was exactly as it had been the last time she’d been here, nearly twenty years ago. Everything was the same: the big stone fireplace had pride of place in the center of the far wall, and in front of the hearth, two couches and several arm chairs were arranged in a cozy horseshoe. The walls were lined with wooden shelves crammed with books, cards, crystals, candles, bottles of liquids and herbs, bags of beads and filigreed ornaments, ribbons and feathers, pentacles and jewelry, and an antique brass scale. The squeaky, old wooden floor boards were scarred with age, but warm and welcoming, adorned with scatter rugs here and there. A glass-topped display case at the rear of the store doubled as a counter, on top of which sat an old-fashioned cash register.

  A sullen-looking teenage girl sat hunched behind the counter, thumbing through what looked like an ancient, leather-bound book.

  “Welcome to Magic Baubles,” said the teenager in a voice far more poised than Serafina had expected. Decidedly proprietary. “May I help you?”

  “Hi, I’m, um, looking for….”

  “Darlene? Sorry but she’s, like, totally gone beyond the veil.”

  “Beyond the veil?”

  “She died,” the girl said, her voice suddenly flat. “Couple months ago.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Serafina. The realization of lost opportunities was a lance through her heart. “I’m her niece, Serafina. And you are…?”

  “I’m Riah,” said the girl, her expression now wary. In the few moments Serafina had been in the girl’s presence, she had already seen a flurry of emotions pass over the teen’s face. Serafina had a sudden, visceral memory of being that age and feeling desperately out of place, neither a child nor an adult. She still often felt that way, but at least with adulthood had come strategies to cope.

  “Riah?” Serafina asked. “What a pretty name.”

  “It’s short for Mariah.”

  “As in that song, ‘They Call the Wind Mariah’?”

  Riah rolled her eyes. “Old people always ask me that. I think it was after Mariah Carey, but whatever.”

  Serafina was stung. Was she really that old? Lord knows she felt ancient these days, but in fact she hadn’t turned thirty yet. She had been young when she graduated high school, and was the youngest professor to go up for tenure at the mathematics department of her university. Still…the past couple of months had aged her.

  Riah was staring, and Serafina mentally shook herself.

  “I take it you work here?” Serafina asked.

  Riah flipped the book closed. “Darlene was like, totally blind at the end. So I handled the books and ordering and stuff. Pretty much everything.”

  “Oh….” Serafina studied the girl. Sixteen at the most; maybe even younger. “That was very nice of you.”

  Riah shrugged. “She paid me.”

  “Well, then, she was lucky to have you.”

  “Also, I helped her read the cards.” Riah’s hand cupped a stack of thick, oversized playing cards, worn from years of use. The backs of the cards were a vivid wine color, with a design of intricate tracery. In anyone else’s hands they were regular playing cards, but in Darlene’s gifted hands, the cards opened up a world of magic.

  “I remember those from when I was little,” Serafina said. “Darlene could see the future.”

  Riah nodded, still eyeing Serafina uncertainly. “We sell tarot cards, but Darlene preferred these. She was awesome. She did the readings, but I told her what card came up. And whether the card was crooked or whatever. That matters, you know.”

  “I remember,” said Serafina, running her fingers over the stack of cards.

  Long ago she had spent her summers at Darlene’s side, sweeping the shop, helping to dry herbs, tidying the shelves. It felt like another lifetime, back when her father was alive and things were easygoing and simple. Her father was an artist, and their small family had practically lived out of their car, often pulling up stakes and departing in the middle of the night, hitting the road for parts unknown. Serafina had thought it was all a grand adventure; she hadn’t realized until many years later that they had been sneaking out of town, leaving unpaid bills and angry landlords in their wake. The constant insecurity and lack of resources had been a hard life for her mother. Was it any wonder that when her father died, her mother had married stolid and steady Fred?

  “You used to live here?” Riah asked, and Serafina came out of her reverie.

  “I spent a lot of time with Darlene when I was young,” Serafina said. “I think I was ten when I last saw her, though.”

  “If you two were so close, like…how come you never visited her?”

  Serafina hesitated, unsure what to say. When her mother remarried, her practical, hard-nosed new husband, Fred, had made it clear he had no truck with magic. Didn’t believe in it, he had announced. Wasn’t real. And if it was real, it was the work of the Devil. Serafina had protested, but her mother hushed her. Nor did Fred believe in children going off to visit kooky relatives in small towns. Besides, Fred insisted, Darlene was Serafina’s great-aunt on her father’s side, so there was no family tie anymore. A job promotion meant Fred moved his new wife and daughter across the country, to upstate New York, where they lived in a nice clapboard house, and for the first time in her life Serafina attended school like a normal child. But she never forgot her Aunt Darlene, and for years wrote short, chatty letters bragging about her grades, the merit badge she’d earned in the Girl Scouts, sleepovers at friends’ houses. Yet she never received a response. No notes, no birthday cards.

  “It’s all for the best,” Fred had told her. “Not a good influence on an innocent child, if you ask me.” Serafina had been convinced Darlene had forgotten her, until the day the lawyer called and told her Darlene had left her this shop.

  Still, as an adult, she should have visited Darlene. She should have. She always promised herself she would: next summer, next Christmas, next year. But she was so busy going to school, building her career, pursuing tenure, and Drew looked horrified when she suggested a trip to the mountains. So she had put it off, and now it was too late.

  “It’s…complicated,” Serafina said. “Families can be like that.”

  Riah nodded, as if well acquainted with complex family dynamics. “Anyway, I totally run the place so I should probably just keep working for you. Want me to show you the living quarters?”

  “Through the back room, right?”

  The front door bell chimed as the Cowboy entered the shop, and Serafina gritted her teeth. What was it with this guy? Didn’t he have something to do, somewhere to be? What would a cowbo
y want in a store like Magic Baubles?

  Sure enough, he didn’t spare a glance at the merchandise but joined Serafina and Riah at the register.

  “I thought we should have a talk,” he said. “You’re Darlene’s niece, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am. How did you know?”

  “I recognize you from your picture.” He nodded at Serafina’s sixth-grade school picture, framed and hung on the wall behind the counter. A newspaper article about Serafina winning a middle school math prize was tucked into one corner of the frame, a dried flower sat on the top edge, and a beaded charm hung from the bottom.

  Serafina’s eyes clouded with tears.

  “Darlene talked about you all the time,” Joe said, studying her. Darlene had talked about her, all right. But as far as he knew, Darlene’s niece hadn’t bothered to contact her elderly aunt. And then Darlene left everything to Serafina. Didn’t seem right, Joe thought. Then again, families were complicated. He should know.

  “Guess that makes me your new landlord,” Joe continued.

  “My what?”

  He cocked his head. “You don’t know what a landlord is?”

  “Of course I know what a landlord is. But…you own this building? I thought you were a….”

  “A vagabond?”

  “No, no—”

  “A vagrant? A wastrel? A ne’er-do-well?”

  Riah gave an exaggerated eye roll and snorted.

  Serafina felt her cheeks flame again. Was he making fun of her? Once again she was reminded that she didn’t fit in. Anywhere. She didn’t need this cowboy to rub it in.

  She cleared her throat.

  “I thought you were a…a cowboy.”

  He laughed, and she relaxed a bit. “Hell no, I’m no cowboy. Cowboys work for a living.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “Not so you’d notice.”

  Serafina wasn’t sure if she had insulted him. In her estimation, being a hardworking cowboy would be far more respectable than someone who spent his days harassing newcomers.

  “But…the boots. And the hat. It was a logical assumption.”

  “Well, now, I suppose I do rather resemble a cowboy.”

  “Gee, ya think?” Riah asked.

  “That’s enough out of you, missy,” Joe said. “Getting back to business: the pertinent point here is that I’m your landlord. And I need this space.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Riah said.

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” Joe said. “Now if you’ll excuse us for a minute, the adults are talking.”

  Serafina winced as Riah’s pretty, mascara-encrusted eyes glared daggers at Joe. The girl hopped off the stool, grabbed a clean cloth and made a big show of dusting a small collection of crystal balls on a shelf behind the register. Ranging from the plain to the ornate, the crystal balls gleamed, with nary a dust mote in sight.

  Joe ducked his head slightly in response to the girl. Serafina wondered what was going on between the two of them.

  “This is my space,” said Serafina. “I hold the lease.”

  “Well now, that’s not quite true. Your aunt Darlene held the lease. You can’t inherit a lease.”

  Serafina’s heart sank. She had been afraid of that. When Darlene’s lawyer told her about her inheritance, Serafina had been so relieved at the chance to escape her unhappy circumstances that she had tossed her usual caution to the wind. Rather than waiting to learn the details, she had squeezed her eyes shut and leapt into the void.

  Magical thinking, that’s what Fred called it. And it got a person into trouble, every single time.

  “But I have plans for the shop,” Serafina continued. “I’d be happy to sign a new lease.”

  “Fact is, I’ve already promised the space to an old friend from out of town.”

  There was an exclamation that sounded like “gah” from the vicinity of the crystal balls.

  “I’m taking a union-mandated break,” declared Riah. She stormed out of the shop, slamming the door so hard that a bejeweled goblet fell over, rolled off the shelf, and tumbled onto the floor.

  As Joe leaned over to pick it up, Serafina noticed the long, lean line of his back, the way his muscles moved under the blue chambray of his shirt. She couldn’t help but compare him to her ex-fiancé-scumbag, who was slightly pudgy from the good food they both loved, and soft from lack of exercise. She hadn’t judged Drew; after all, she was as out of shape as he. Their work didn’t involve a lot of strenuous activity, and had consumed most of their waking hours. But…in another un-Serafina-like moment, she wondered what this cowboy’s chest would feel like…was his skin smooth, or was it covered with black hair? Rough and masculine under her palms….

  As Joe reached out to place the goblet back on the shelf, he caught her gaze.

  Their eyes met. And held.

  Well, well, Joe thought. Who would have thought little Miss Priss here, all buttoned-up and tucked-in, would be capable of a smoldering look like that? It took him a moment to find his words.

  He cleared his throat. “As I was saying, before my niece set about destroying the merchandise—”

  “Riah’s your niece?”

  He nodded. “My brother and his wife were killed by a drunk driver eight years ago, so Riah came to live with me.”

  Serafina’s stomach clenched. Poor Riah. Poor Cowboy. He lost his brother and sister-in-law, and then took on the care of a little girl? Maybe there was more to this man than she’d first assumed. “Riah seems like a bright girl.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. Lately it feels more like I’m wrangling snakes than raising a child. It’s probably pretty obvious, but she’s not very fond of me.”

  “The teenage years can be tough.”

  “So I’ve discovered. Are all girls this difficult at sixteen?”

  Serafina smiled. “And you think teenage boys are easy?”

  “Hardly.” He chuckled, and Serafina noted how his long fingers ran along the side of the shelf full of goblets. “I was hell on wheels, so I guess I shouldn’t be complaining. Matter of fact, your aunt Darlene saw me through that age. She busted me right here in this very store, intent on stealing whatever I could.”

  “Seriously? You robbed her?”

  “Well, now, I didn’t exactly rob her, I only tried to rob her. She caught me red-handed. Flew out of the back room like a Fury. Little thing barely came up to my ribs, even back then, but she was fierce. Scared the living daylights out of me.”

  Serafina laughed. “What happened next?”

  “I started babbling, making up excuses and apologizing,” Joe continued. “Just about broke down and cried, matter of fact. Darlene gave me a choice: she could call the sheriff and have me arrested, or I could do as she said for as long as she felt like saying it. I agreed, and she put me to work on her friend Leo’s ranch. Then she tutored me so I could bring up my grades. She was a taskmaster, but she whipped me into shape. I owe her…a lot.”

  “Sounds like Darlene. Or…what I remember of Darlene.”

  “She spoke of you often.” The humor was gone now from his voice. “I’m surprised you didn’t keep in touch.”

  Serafina felt her face flame, and glared at him.

  “Not that it’s any of my business, of course,” Joe added with a shrug. “Anyway, I’ve already let this place.”

  “But you can’t—I need it. I have plans for the shop…Darlene left it to me.”

  “Everything in it is yours. I’ll give you time to get it all together, of course. Nothing has to happen until after the holidays.”

  “Be reasonable. Let me see if I can get this place into shape. Then we can talk about a rent increase.”

  “Look—Sarah, is it?”

  “Serafina.”

  “Serafina. Pretty name. Listen, you aren’t going to be able to pay me enough to make it worth my while.”

  “You don’t know that. I’m planning on some changes that will make this place more successful.”

  “Oh really? Like wh
at?”

  “I thought I’d bring in educational materials, you know, books and games about science, geology. Fun with physics, that sort of thing.”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Fun with physics? In…Snow Creek?”

  “I did my research. There’s nothing else like it in town.”

  “Well now, that much is true.”

  “Kids love science. In San Diego there’s the Fleet Science Center, and San Francisco has the Exploratorium. They’re always mobbed.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said, clearly unconvinced.

  “Hey, if Aunt Darlene could sell witchcraft supplies—“

  “Don’t forget, she supplemented her income with her ‘readings’. Do you, er, ‘read’ too?”

  “No, of course not.”

  He smiled, and Serafina felt the air rush out of her lungs. What was wrong with her? Yes, those blue eyes sparkled, making a person ponder what delicious secrets they might hold, but…snap out of it!

  “Are you saying you don’t share your auntie’s belief in all things magical?”

  “I believe in science, not superstition. Why…are you saying you believe in this nonsense?”

  He chuckled. When it became apparent he wasn’t going to confess his feelings, one way or the other, Serafina continued.

  “In any case, if Darlene could make a go of selling witchcraft supplies and offering readings, surely I can make a profit with science.”

  “As to whether or not she ‘made a go of it’, I have to tell you—“

  There was the sound of heavy footfalls on the boards outside, and people shouting. The bell on the door rang cheerily as it swung open and a young man stuck his head in.

  “Oh good, you’re here. Joe, they need you over at Last Chance Ranch. They’ve been calling you.”

  “Forgot to turn the volume up,” muttered Joe, swearing under his breath as he checked his phone. Without so much as a good-bye, he strode out the door. It banged closed behind him with another cheery tinkle of the bell.

  For the first time since she’d arrived in Snow Creek, Serafina found herself alone.

  Quickly, Serafina crossed the store, turned the sign to Closed, and locked the deadbolt. Leaning against the door, she let out a deep breath. She needed a few minutes to ponder what she had done, what she had walked into.