Dakota Love (6 page)

“What do you mean?” Caroline’s sharp tone jolted Rodney back to the present. “Mark’s my friend. I don’t want to jeopardize our friendship.”

Something inside Rodney bristled at her last statement. Was Mark the reason she insisted this trip was strictly business? Her potential interest in another man never crossed his mind. Everyone at church agreed Caroline had crawled into a shell like a hermit crab after her husband’s death. He glanced at Caroline, the deep crease once again formed between her brows, a constant reminder of her worrisome nature.

Rodney gripped the steering wheel until the urge to massage the distress from Caroline’s forehead dissipated. He didn’t think his comment insinuated that Caroline should use Mark on the basis of their friendship.

“I meant, he believes in your work, so if a customer needs a service you provide, he’ll recommend you. Plus he displays your work in his shop.” Rodney hoped his explanation would ease her tension.

“Oh, word of mouth.” Relief erased the worry from Caroline’s features. “Just like Mildred.”

“Yes, just like Mildred. Her enthusiasm about your work is great advertising. The day I told her about Mother’s quilt, she almost marched me over to your house then and there.”

“I wish I could share my mental picture of that.” Caroline giggled. “Her sweet-heartedness compensates for all of her shortcomings. You’re right; that is the best kind of advertising because it’s free. I could ask Mark if he’d place a sign by the display quilts, saying ‘Quilted or repaired by Caroline Baker.’ And”—Caroline lifted the tablet from her lap—“I should include photos of the quilts I’ve worked on for Mark on my website. I’ll ask Mark if he took pictures of the Nine Patch, Log Cabin, and Flying Geese.” Caroline clicked her pen and began writing again.

Rodney shook his head.
Must be quilter’s language
.

As the outskirts of the city came into view, Rodney glanced at the clock on the dashboard. He’d mentally formulated the itinerary of their day while doing his three-mile morning run on the treadmill. He hoped Caroline found his schedule agreeable. Although he wanted to consider this outing a date, several times during the week Caroline had stressed that this was a business trip.

Rodney slowed his pickup at the speed limit sign, followed the highway around the curve that led to Sioux Falls, and prepared to stop as the first traffic light on the highway turned yellow. “Shall we grab some lunch, run my errands, and then stop by the quilt shop? That way we can take our time there and not be rushed.”

The right corner of Caroline’s bottom lip disappeared under her white teeth as the line between her brows began to deepen. She seemed mesmerized by the taillights on the car stopped in front of them.

My treat
popped into Rodney’s head, but thankfully God was with him because he thought twice before he said it. “Have you eaten lunch already?”

Caroline’s expression held as she shook her head.

“What is it then?”

She turned her gaze to him and pursed her lips. He braced for another conversation about this not being a date.

“Well, I don’t know how to say this.” Caroline actually began wringing her hands. “I don’t want to sound forward or insult you, but…”

Her voice trailed off just as the light changed. Rodney focused on the traffic flow. This sounded like the start of a breakup speech. Although he hoped this would be a date, she didn’t. She’d made her stance on that clear. In the few seconds it took Caroline to clear her throat, doubt chipped away at the bravado of his meticulous planning. Tension pinched his shoulders as he flexed his biceps and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“I guess I’ll just say it.” She turned farther in her seat and looked directly at him. “I don’t want to offend you in any way, but since you drove, I’d like to buy your lunch.” Caroline didn’t wait for his response. “I haven’t held up my end of the bargain. You’ve worked on my website for two weeks, and I haven’t cooked dinner for you yet. So I only thought it fair that—”

“Okay.” Rodney relaxed his hold on the steering wheel. He preferred to pay, but Caroline’s broad smile showed him that this was important to her. “Did you have anywhere in mind?”

“Your choice. Fast food, truck stop, wherever you’d like to go.”

“Well, there’s a good soup and sandwich shop not far from here. How does that sound?”

Surprise registered in Caroline’s expression. “Appropriate in this weather.”

Caroline chose a booth over a table when the hostess asked their preference. They perused the menu while they waited for their coffee.

“The clam chowder sounds good. Have you ever had it here? I’m fussy about my chowder.” Caroline peered over the menu.

“No, I haven’t, but I’ve never been disappointed with anything I’ve tried here.”

“Still”—Caroline returned to her menu—“I think I’ll play it safe and have the creamy tomato and a grilled cheese. Have you decided?”

Rodney closed the menu. “The vegetarian chili and turkey breast on whole grain.”

Once they placed their order, Rodney intended to use the opportunity to get to know Caroline better. Had she lived in Riverside her entire life? Did she have siblings? But before he took the initiative, Caroline pulled the notebook from her tote.

“I’d like your opinion on shipping costs. I’ll talk to Mark about them also since he often makes online purchases.”

A pang of disappointment caught Rodney off guard. What caused that feeling—the mention of Mark’s name and valued opinion, or that she was definitely looking at this outing as a business trip? At this rate she could write their lunches off on her taxes. He tapped his spoon lightly on the side of the mug before laying it back on the table. He gripped the handle to lift the mug. “I’m probably not much help in that area, but go ahead and bounce your ideas off me.” He raised his mug for a swig of decaf coffee.

“Of course, this may be presumptuous of me because I haven’t received any inquiries from my website or ads I placed in magazines, but I’d think potential customers would appreciate seeing shipping prices on my cost page since that’s not included in my pricing.”

“Good idea.”

“I plan to keep it simple, either certified mail with a return receipt or United Parcel Service. Both of those methods provide a way to track a package.”

“Does cost go by weight on those shipping methods?”

“I think so.” Caroline rubbed the spot between her brows before the worry divot formed. “So maybe that won’t work.”

Caroline slid her notepad to the side as their waitress placed their orders on the table. “It sure smells good.”

“Yes, it does.”
Thank You, Lord, for this nourishment
. Rodney lifted the soup spoon from the saucer. “Perhaps you’ll have to build shipping into your pricing. I’m sure Mark can shed some light on the shipping problem.”

“Speaking of Mark shedding some light on a problem”—Caroline swirled her soup with the corner of her grilled cheese sandwich—“I described your quilt to him, and he thinks he knows the name of the quilt block.” She bit the soup-softened corner of the bread.

“Great, one mystery solved. Two more to go.” Rodney stirred his soup to cool it and slid the sandwich plate in front of him.

“Two?” Caroline dunked the sandwich half in her bowl.

“The fabric match and the origin of the quilt.”

“No replies from family members?”

“Oh, they’ve e-mailed back but not with any information I wanted. My aunt’s reply was vague. She thought she’d seen it before but couldn’t be certain. She hinted that Mom received a quilt for a gift once. She’s going to look through old pictures and ask around. It seems everything revolving around this quilt is mysterious, including answers from my family.”

Caroline nodded and let the conversation drop. Quiet settled over the table as they enjoyed their lunch. When Rodney finished, he put the empty soup bowl on his plate as he popped the last of his sandwich into his mouth.

Caroline picked up her fork and scraped up the cheese that had oozed from her sandwich onto the plate. “Have you always eaten such a healthy diet?”

Finally, the perfect opening to tell her about his heart health. He shook his head, then held up a finger to indicate he had something to say.

“Well, I’m glad to see you do now. You won’t have a heart attack like Ted.” Caroline ate the bite of cheese off her fork. “Although I don’t take my own advice.” She shrugged as she placed the fork on the plate.

“But I have—,” Rodney managed to get out before the fresh bread stuck to the roof of his mouth. He took a sip of coffee to loosen the bread’s adhesive hold so he could finish his sentence when the waitress approached the table.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“I’m good.” Caroline smiled and raised her brows in question to Rodney. Not a hint of tension marring her beauty.

“Nothing for me, thanks.”

“Thanks and have a nice day.” The waitress slid the bill toward Rodney.

Rodney cleared his throat, ready to explain about his mild heart attack. “Caroline, let me—”

“You said it was okay for me to pay for lunch.” The familiar worry lines were back in place on Caroline’s face as she reached for their check.

“…say thank you.” Where did that come from? He’d meant to say
explain
.

Caroline laughed. “You’re welcome. I thought you were going to insist on paying. Are you ready?” Caroline shouldered her tote bag, slipped from the booth, and headed to the cash register.

He was ready to confess his health issues, but he wasn’t ready to squelch her happy mood. He slid out of the booth and waited while Caroline paid their tab.

“This is a good-sized store.” Rodney pulled into a parking space and pushed the gear shift into P
ARK
. “I thought it’d be a smaller boutiquetype shop.” Rodney opened his door and slid from behind the wheel.

Caroline gathered her tote and the shopping bag that held Rodney’s quilt. She heard the click of the door release and felt a blast of cool air. No one had opened a car door for her in a very long time.

“Thank you.” Caroline descended from the cab of the pickup.

“My pleasure.” Rodney bowed slightly. “It’s the least I can do for the Queen of Quilts.” His brown eyes danced with mischief.

A sudden thrill surprised Caroline and forced out a high-pitched giggle. Rodney sidestepped her to get to the store entrance. Pulling the door open, he continued the charade. Bending stiffly at the waist, he said, “My lady,” as she stepped through the door. Caroline burst out laughing.

Mark looked up from behind the counter. “Well, listen to you, Caroline Baker, laughing like a schoolgirl.”

“It’s his fault.” Caroline pointed to Rodney, telling on him like the schoolgirl she’d been accused of being.

“Keep it up.” Mark nodded to Rodney. “She needs to lighten up more.” He extended his hand. “Mark Sanders.”

“Rodney Harris. Nice to meet you.”

“Now tell me how you pulled a laugh out of this serious gal.”

“He treats me like royalty because I’m the Queen of Quilts.” Caroline threw her scarf over her shoulder and raised her nose in the air in a mock pose of being socially above the men.

“You do have a God-given talent. No arguing that.”

Mark’s statement ended her fun. Caroline relaxed her stance. God only gave her insecurity. Her own hard work honed her quilting abilities.

“We both know your mom and my mom shared that title. I’m more of a lady-in-waiting.” Caroline’s voice was no longer lighthearted.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve mastered techniques that neither of them used. Speaking of which, the quilt you donated for the charity raffle brought in two thousand dollars.”

“That’s pretty impressive.” Rodney whistled for emphasis. “I don’t suppose you snapped a picture of it.”

Rodney’s flair for business never ceased to amaze Caroline. She knew he wanted to use the picture on the website. Why he gave up his career in advertising was beyond her, but then again, so was the fact that he’d never married. He was a keeper—good-looking, smart, ambitious, and fun.

“I did.” Mark motioned with his head. “It’s on the bulletin board with the winner holding up the quilt.” Then he turned his attention to a young woman browsing the store.