In The Stars (Main Street Merchants Book 6) Read online

  “If it’s just mint and ginger, why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

  Alana laughed. “When did you give me the opportunity? You certainly didn’t ask me what it was. You referred to my merchandise as ‘crap’ and you went off on the alternative industry as a whole and me in particular. That’s hardly an effective way to get information out of someone.”

  “You’re right, and I apologize. I’ve misjudged you.” He glanced around the shop. “And this is a very nice store.”

  “Thank you. It’s not a sincere compliment, but it’s good to hear.”

  He seemed flustered. “What do you mean, it’s not a sincere compliment?”

  “You’re speaking to me like you would a child. ‘That’s nice. Now go play.’ You will never see me as a peer or even as a competent adult, so let’s stop pretending, Dr. Harris. You ridicule my profession. You think everything I do is silly, and probably irresponsible. I think the best thing I can do is offer you a free star chart, and when you turn me down, I shall waft some incense in your direction and send you on your way.” She rested her elbows on the armrests of her chair, feeling the tide shift.

  “Now you’re mocking me.”

  “Yes, yes, I am, truth be told. I’ve said my piece, you’ve said yours, we’re in agreement that no one here is trying to hurt Melinda, and I have things to do. I hope you have a very pleasant drive back to Denver. Watch out for deer on the road.”

  Dr. Harris stood and walked toward the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “Thank you for your time.”

  She lifted her hand in a slight wave. “My pleasure entirely.”

  As soon as he walked out the door, Alana exhaled and took a moment to center herself. She hated altercations, but they were sometimes necessary when she had to defend what she did or what she believed. She had no doubt that Dr. Harris was a very dedicated doctor who cared about his patients, but she cared too—they just went about it differently.

  Her eyes were still closed when the bell jingled again. She refused to give in to the sudden anxiety that grabbed her chest, thinking that he might have come back—instead, she breathed a little deeper and smiled as she opened her eyes.

  “Who was that dude marching down the sidewalk like he wanted to kick a puppy?” Morgan Spencer, her new sister-in-law, thumbed over her shoulder toward the street. “He came charging out of here like a Spanish bull.”

  “That’s a pretty apt description. Do you want some tea?”

  “Tea and cookies, if you have them.” Then Morgan stopped dead. “Whoa! You got your hair cut! It’s fantastic.”

  Alana self-consciously reached up and touched her new short bob. “Yeah, I decided to try something new, and when I told Gina, she almost couldn’t grab her scissors fast enough. She told me that my long hair was too cliché for the owner of an herb store, and she couldn’t wait to make me look more modern.”

  “Yeah, you were kind of doing that whole hippie thing. But now? Holy cow, chick—I can’t get over how great you look.” Morgan held up a sack. “I brought my lunch. Will I offend you if I sit in your shop and eat commercially made food created from GMO ingredients?”

  Alana laughed. “You do it all the time. Here, I’ll balance out the universe.” She reached into the little fridge under her counter and pulled out her own lunch, which consisted of a whole-wheat and turkey sandwich and sliced apples, all organic. She carried her food around the counter and sat down on a comfy chair across from Morgan.

  “So, you didn’t answer my question. Who was that guy?” Morgan raised an eyebrow.

  “He’s a medical doctor who drove up here from Denver to chew me out for giving Melinda some mint and ginger for her chemo-induced nausea.”

  “Melinda, like, across the street in the craft store Melinda? I didn’t know she has cancer.”

  Alana nodded. “She started treatment a little while ago, and the nausea was just awful. So I pointed her in a direction, and it’s helping. I mean, nothing can completely take it away—chemo’s a beast to get through—but she’s feeling enough better that she told her doctor about it, and he was just a little bit . . . concerned.”

  Morgan laughed. “Yeah, he looked concerned all right. Like, rob a bank, strangle a chicken concerned.”

  Alana took a bite of her sandwich and contemplated her visitor while she chewed. “You look happy,” she said at last. “Married life agreeing with you?”

  “I love it,” Morgan said. “Okay, so it’s only been a week, but I love it. Being married to your best friend has to be the coolest thing ever.”

  Warmth spread through Alana’s chest as the truth of her friend’s words sank into her soul. “I’m so glad to hear that, and I’m so glad you and my brother finally figured this whole thing out. It took you long enough, but you’re there now, and I know he’s just as happy as you are. It radiates off him.”

  Morgan swallowed a sip of her tea. “Here’s to one week of wedded bliss.” She held up her mug in salute. “And another one to come.”

  Alana finished her lunch in peaceful contemplation. This was what life was supposed to be about—love, joy, finding balance. Laughing and joking with Morgan, she was able to push aside all the negativity Dr. Harris had brought in. She’d only been half joking about burning incense—she definitely did want to cleanse the shop of his residue—but a good friend turned into a new sister-in-law did the trick even better.

  “Well, my lunch break’s over. I’d better get back to the bank.” Morgan stood up and stretched. “Thanks for letting me jabber at you.”

  Alana waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. “Any time. I needed it even more than you did.”

  As Morgan left, Alana noticed a break in the clouds outside. The sky that peeked through the tiny crack was that intense shade of blue that can only be seen in the autumn, when the earth is getting ready to buckle down for winter. She smiled. Maybe she’d paint the back wall of her kitchen that very shade of blue to remind herself that good things are still there, waiting, even when it seems like everything is covered with gray.

  A moment later, she saw Melinda come out of Woolgathering, the knitting and craft store across the street, and head her way.

  “Alana, I’m so sorry.” She grabbed Alana’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I had no idea Dr. Harris was going to pay you a visit.”

  “It’s all right,” Alana replied, returning the squeeze. “It was an interesting conversation. I learned a lot, and hopefully, he did too.”

  “He just called me. He said he was on his way back to Denver after visiting you, and he wanted to tell me that he doesn’t have any objection to the mint and ginger you suggested.”

  Alana took a step back, completely surprised. “He said that?”

  “Yes, and he apologized for anything he might have said that wasn’t professional.” Melinda grinned. “What did he say, and why did he apologize to me instead of you?”

  Alana didn’t want to share the details with Melinda. Her friend needed positive energy right now more than ever. “He sort of apologized to me. Maybe. Let me think.” Had he said those words specifically, or was it just more of a civil good-bye? “I can’t actually remember, but I’m not going to worry about it. The main thing is, keep drinking your tea. You look like you feel some better today.”

  “I do. I even came into the shop to see how my assistant manager is getting by without me. Amazingly enough, she hasn’t even missed me, and here I thought the entire world revolved around me.”

  “It does. She’s just putting on a brave face for you.” Alana grinned. “Want some tea?”

  “What have you got today? I mean, if Dr. Harris isn’t going to come back down here and chew you out for giving it to me.”

  “Well, I guess that’s a risk we’ll just have to take. I have a new mandarin orange blend to try out—no caffeine, of course.”

  “Sounds great.”

  Chapter Three

  Seventeen Years Ago . . .

  “Alana, you were amazing,” Rusty said
as he opened the truck door for her. “Your instincts are incredible—I think you’re going to put me out of business.”

  Alana blushed. “I didn’t really do anything.”

  “The way you calmed that horse—if he hadn’t stopped bucking, we never would have been able to stitch up that wound. I was ready to knock him out, but you . . . wow. I think you must speak horse or something.”

  Alana had been going on cases with Rusty for three weeks now, and she couldn’t believe how much she’d learned from him. He used a great combination of old-fashioned common sense and the most modern medicine, and she appreciated how he always tried the least invasive methods first. That was her philosophy as well—to let the body heal itself as much as possible.

  “Hey, I know I said I’d just have you come on visits with me, but how would you like to come hang out at the clinic, too?” Rusty started the engine and then glanced over at her with a grin. “If you’re that good with a skittish horse, I can’t wait to see what you do with a freaked-out pregnant cat.”

  “I’d really like that.” She tried to answer calmly, but inside, she was jumping up and down. This was the kinds of hands-on experience she’d thought she’d only be able to get after a lot more schooling.

  “Great. Just come down whenever you can.”

  As they drove back to the Spencer farm, Alana took advantage of the quiet to study Rusty. He was calm and laidback on the exterior, but underneath, she knew he was plugged in and ready to go. He could leap right into the middle of an emergency and take total control of the situation without a second’s hesitation. She wondered if that was his medical training or just his personality. Then, when the emergency was over, he was able to let it go and move on to the next task at hand. It made him a great doctor, and it made him very attractive.

  Alana blinked. Attractive? Where had that thought come from? She took another look at him. Oh, heck, yes. Not only was he really good-looking, but he was a gentleman, the kind her father had always told her to shoot for, and he treated her so well. Even when she made a suggestion that was completely ridiculous, he listened to her, and then explained why another choice might be better. He’d never once made her feel stupid. And those little crinkles around his eyes . . .

  She was so distracted by this new realization that she almost didn’t realize when they had pulled up in front of her house.

  “Hey, thanks,” she said, opening the door before he could see her red cheeks. “I’ll come in to the office tomorrow, okay?”

  “Sounds great. See ya.” And just like he always did, he waited until she was back inside the house before he drove away. Dang. That was attractive too.

  * * *

  The next morning dawned bright and beautiful, even though her evening had been spent thinking about her past. When Alana got into the herb shop, she opened up all the windows and let the breeze whisk out the corners and cubbies. She loved the scents of lavender and sage that usually filled the air, but nothing could come close to the scent of mountain pine floating in through her windows.

  She sold a bottle of almond oil to a lady who liked making her own hand lotion, and she spent about an hour demonstrating ear candling to another customer. Around eleven thirty, the door opened, and in walked Gabe, carrying a huge arrangement of sunflowers.

  “Hey there,” he said, setting the vase on the counter. “Someone’s got a secret admirer.”

  Alana blushed, feeling like a sixteen-year-old all of a sudden. “I do not.”

  “Well, this delivery would argue with you on that point.” He took a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it over. “If you could sign here, please.”

  Alana grabbed a pen and scribbled her name. “Who are they from?”

  “Well, see, that’s the beauty of this little card right here.” He pointed to a small envelope poking out from the flowers. “If you open it, chances are, you’ll find out.”

  Alana reached out and slugged his shoulder. He gasped. “Help! Help! I’m being attacked by a beautiful woman!” He clutched his arm. “I’m going to bruise. I’m sure of it.”

  “If you do, I’ll give you some arnica for it. Now be on your way.”

  He laughed. “Okay, but only because I have more deliveries to make.”

  Alana waited until the door closed behind him, and then she pulled out the card.

  Ms. Spencer,

  I’m sorry for my behavior yesterday. Hope we can let bygones be bygones.

  Adam Harris

  Adam Harris? Oh, Dr. Harris. She hadn’t really been paying attention to his first name the day before—she was a little too distracted by his pompous personality and arrogant attitude. She nodded once at the card, as if to agree, and then tossed it into the trash. She didn’t need that reminder. The flowers, however, would look great on the little table between her overstuffed chairs.

  About an hour later, she glanced up from the cash register and out the front window to see Dr. Harris walking up the street again, and she let out an exasperated sigh.

  “Uh, is everything okay?” Gina, her favorite hair stylist from Curl Up and Dye down the street, placed a bottle of vitamin E capsules on the counter and looked her with raised eyebrows.

  “It’s fine. It’s just . . . I thought something was over, and it turns out, it’s not.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’ve been there.” Gina nodded like she knew everything in the world—and maybe she did.

  “Did you find what you needed?” Alana asked.

  “Yep.”

  Alana rang up Gina’s purchase and placed it in a sack. Dr. Harris came in and wandered around the shop while he waited for her to be free, and as soon as Gina left, he stepped up to the counter.

  “I see you got the flowers,” he said, nodding over at the seating area.

  “I did. Thank you.”

  “I just pictured you as more of a sunflower girl than roses or anything like that.”

  “And you’d be right.” Alana felt distinctly awkward. Was he expecting her to congratulate him on his flower-choosing prowess? Why was he there?

  He leaned against the counter on one elbow. Alana noticed that he’d abandoned his uptight doctor outfit from the day before and was now wearing a sage-green button-down shirt and Dockers. It was a huge improvement on the friendliness scale.

  “I wondered if I could take you out to dinner,” he asked. “I know it’s unusual—I come in here one day and yell at you, and the next, I’m back to ask you out—but the truth is, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. You challenge me, and that intrigues me and makes me want to know more.”

  “Oh? So you aren’t challenged very often?”

  “No, not very.”

  Alana nodded. “That’s a curious problem to have. It makes me wonder if you’re really listening to what those around you are saying—I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re disagreeing with you right and left.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Okay, I deserved that. I know—I’m arrogant. I just spend so much time holed up in my office reading studies and researching that I forget how to interact with the outside world. That’s why I’m here—to try to make that connection and bring myself back down to earth. I hope you’ll be willing to help me with that. You’re the dose of reality I need.”

  Alana folded her arms, considering him. “Basically, you’d like me to slap you down if you get a little too full of yourself?”

  He grinned. “Yes, that is exactly what I’m asking you to do.”

  She tilted her head to the side. He looked entirely different than he had the day before, his attitude had completely changed, and if she didn’t clearly remember what a self-important, snobby person he’d been when she first met him, she might even think this was a different guy. “Are you sure you don’t have a split personality?” she asked.

  “You know, sometimes I wonder if maybe I do. So, what do you say? Come have dinner with me, and you can analyze all the different parts of my brain.”

  “That actually sounds pretty dan
gerous, but I like danger. Okay, you can take me out. There’s just one condition, though.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “We need to go to Frannie’s. I eat mostly organic, and she has a line of organic dishes that’s really delicious.”

  “Do I have to eat one of them?” He looked a little worried.

  “No, that request is just for me. You can eat all the heathen food you want.”

  “Okay, then. It’s a date. What time do you close?”

  “I’ll be done here at a quarter after six.” She glanced at the clock—she had about five hours to figure out what to say to this guy during dinner. Maybe she could brush up on current reality television shows and steer the topic away from health care altogether.

  “Great. I’ll pick you up then.”

  After the door closed behind Dr. Harris, Alana leaned on the counter, wondering what on earth she’d just agreed to do.

  Chapter Four

  “I’ll have the number twelve,” Alana said, handing her menu back to the waiter.

  “Very good. And you, sir?”

  “I’ll take your number three. Hold the onions, please.” Dr. Harris gave his menu back as well, then turned to Alana as the waiter walked off. “What is the number twelve?”

  “It’s a steak, grass fed, of course. It comes with an organic salad and garden-grown potatoes.”

  “I thought you were going to say that it was some kind of tofu dish cooked with mung beans.”

  “I think that’s the Thursday special.” Alana laughed. “I’m just joking. Come on, Doctor—you’ve read the studies. You have to know what pesticides and growth hormones are doing to our bodies.”

  “Please, call me Adam. And I’ve read the studies, but I’ve read an equal number of studies that claim the opposite.”

  “That’s the whole problem right there. Anyone can do a study that will produce the results they want to produce. So let me explain it this way. When I eat organic foods, I have more energy and my mental clarity is better. When I don’t eat organic foods, I feel sluggish and I can’t think. I don’t need a study to tell me that I simply feel better when I eat healthy.”