fully stocked, and preparing a meal would keep her occupied on this rainy afternoon.
Her hands, anyway.
Her mind was a different story. It would be free to wander—and that wasn’t smart. Not yet. It was too soon to sort through the tangle in her brain. She needed a few days . . . or weeks . . . of long hours on a secluded beach to decompress first.
That’s why she’d rented a cottage perched above an isolated stretch of sand.
Now if only the weather would cooperate.
She hung a right, toward Highway 101 and the short trip north to her secluded hideaway, giving the taco stand one last glance.
Charley’s gaze connected with hers, and as he smiled, warmth radiated toward her.
Not the kind of sizzle she’d felt from the coffee shop guy. That had been more . . . adrenaline stirring.
No, this felt . . . peaceful. As if the taco maker was trying to comfort her. Tell her everything would be okay. Encourage her not to worry.
As she rounded the corner and the stand disappeared from view, Katherine frowned.
That had been . . . weird.
How in the world could she have read so much into a connection that had lasted . . . what? Three seconds? Four?
Huffing out a breath, she tightened her grip on the wheel. She was losing it. Grasping at straws. Conjuring up far-fetched sources of the consolation and encouragement she craved.
Good grief, the man may not even have been looking at her. It was impossible to be certain from that distance.
Picking up speed, she left the town center behind.
Yet the soothing, uplifting feelings engendered by that fleeting connection with Charley—real or imagined—lingered.
So why not enjoy the brief boost to her spirits, whatever the source?
For as she’d discovered over the past few years, most moments of happiness were short-lived—and few of them offered the lasting gratification she’d assumed success would beget.
2
“You about finished, Frank?” Zach called out the question to his Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday barista as he moved the thought-for-the-day sign from the sidewalk in front of The Perfect Blend into the shop.
“Almost.” The silver-haired man surveyed the crumbs littering the floor. “The toddler in the family group that claimed this table was apparently more interested in shredding his cake than eating it.”
“You want me to take over?” Zach folded up the A-frame sign and leaned it against the counter. Frank was spry and fit—but he was sixty-three. Not ancient by any means . . . but from the perspective of his own thirty-four years, it seemed old—even if the man had the energy of someone half his age.
“No thanks. I can handle it. This type of mess is much easier to deal with than some of the ones I ran into during my career as a mail carrier.” He motioned to the sign. “What’s tomorrow’s saying?”
“Haven’t decided yet.” Zach pulled out the eraser for the dry-erase board and wiped off the quote he’d featured on this August Tuesday. “Which do you prefer—‘Keep your face to the sun and you’ll never see shadows’ or ‘A diamond is merely a lump of coal that did well under pressure.’”
“I like them both—and they’re in keeping with the encouragement theme that’s been running through the sayings for the past few days.” Frank gave the mop one last swirl and rested his hand on top of the handle.
Zach furrowed his brow. Had there been a theme to his recent adages?
He scrolled through the last few in his mind.
Yeah, there had—and he knew who to blame for his rare thematic tangent.
The mystery woman.
She hadn’t come back to the coffee shop again, but since her visit six days ago she’d been on his mind. As had Charley’s comments about her mental state.
Apparently his subconscious had been selecting sayings that would boost her spirits if she happened to drop in—or pass by.
He plucked a marker from the box behind the counter. “I didn’t realize I’d fallen into a rut.”
“I wouldn’t call it a rut. Feels more like you’re trying to cheer yourself—or someone else—up. Everything okay?”
“Couldn’t be better.”
“Glad to hear it.” Frank picked up the mop. “Personally, I think funny sayings catch people’s eye too. Like the one you used last week about coffee helping you stay grounded. Clever.”
“Message received. I’ll go with humor tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan. It’s never a bad idea to mix things up—but there’s nothing wrong with the sayings you’ve been using either. Maybe they lifted someone’s spirits.”
Frank disappeared into the back room, and Zach considered the blank board, tapping the marker against