скачать книгу бесплатно
Heart's Desire
Catherine Lanigan
His homecoming is bittersweet…for both of them Café owner Maddie Strong is finally ready to take her burgeoning cupcake business to the next level. With the help of handsome businessman Alex Perkins, her future's all mapped out. Until her first love comes home.At seventeen, Maddie adored Nate Barzonni with her whole heart and soul. But when he asked her to elope, she'd said no–she couldn't let him throw away his dream of becoming a doctor. Then he vanished from her life for eleven years. Now the cardiac surgeon has returned to Indian Lake asking for a second chance, and Maddie has to choose between her new life…and the man she never stopped loving.
His homecoming is bittersweet...for both of them
Café owner Maddie Strong is finally ready to take her burgeoning cupcake business to the next level. With the help of handsome businessman Alex Perkins, her future’s all mapped out. Until her first love comes home.
At seventeen, Maddie adored Nate Barzonni with her whole heart and soul. But when he asked her to elope, she’d said no—she couldn’t let him throw away his dream of becoming a doctor. Then he vanished from her life for eleven years. Now the cardiac surgeon has returned to Indian Lake asking for a second chance, and Maddie has to choose between her new life…and the man she never stopped loving.
Maddie stared. Then she blinked. Twice.
At first, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. She peered into the darkening day.
There, underneath the black wrought-iron Victorian street lamp, the evening fog drifting along the sidewalk, stood Nate Barzonni. He looked directly at her, and when their eyes locked, he smiled.
Her heart thrummed in her chest and blood pounded at her temples. She felt dizzy.
In the eleven years since Nate had abandoned her, Maddie had not had a single boyfriend. She had dated a few men here and there, but all her energy had gone into her business. She had convinced herself that she was strong and willful, that she owned her own power. She purposefully fanned and fueled the fire of her anger against Nate to mask even the tiniest possibility that she still had any feelings for him. For eleven years, Maddie had told her friends over and over that Nate Barzonni was the devil to her.
There was no way Nate was actually standing outside Bride’s Corner. No way. Maddie closed her eyes and opened them again.
Nate was gone.
Dear Reader (#ulink_fc9a4284-7373-5465-88a5-6cab26e56191),
The inspiration for my Shores of Indian Lake series came right out of my own life when I returned to my hometown after thirty-five years of living in big cities like New Orleans, Houston, Los Angeles and Scottsdale, Arizona.
It has been a revelation to me that the lives of those in small towns are filled with just as much pathos, romance, chaos and eternal struggle as people in glamorous cities.
The Shores of Indian Lake series is filled with endearing, haunting and oftentimes seemingly eccentric characters who will steal your heart. Heart’s Desire is the second book in the series. In this story, Maddie Strong is faced with impossible choices with regards to her own career dreams when her first love, Nate Barzonni, returns to Indian Lake, in pursuit of his own long-held dream of being a cardiologist and dedicating his services to those most in need. Nate finds himself face-to-face with the one woman he’d left brokenhearted…and very angry.
I would love to hear from you and what kind of story you would like to read about along the Shores of Indian Lake. You can write to me at cathlanigan1@gmail.com or visit my website at www.catherinelanigan.com (http://www.catherinelanigan.com). I’m on Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn, as well.
Catherine
Heart’s Desire
Catherine Lanigan
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CATHERINE LANIGAN
knew she was born to storytelling at a very young age when she told stories to her younger brothers and sister to entertain them. After years of encouragement from family and high school teachers, Catherine was shocked and brokenhearted when her freshman college creative writing professor told her that she “had no writing talent whatsoever” and that she “would never earn a dime as a writer.” He promised her that he would be her crutches and get her through his demanding class with a B grade so as not to destroy her high grade point average too much, if Catherine would promise never to write again. Catherine assumed he was the voice of authority and gave in to the bargain.
For fourteen years she did not write until she was encouraged by a television journalist to give her dream a shot. She wrote a six-hundred-page historical romantic spy-thriller set against World War I. The journalist sent the manuscript to his agent who then garnered bids from two publishers. That was nearly forty published novels, nonfiction books and anthologies ago.
This book is dedicated to my granddaughter, Caylin Pieszchala, whom I love with all my heart. It is my fondest wish that you have happiness, love and laughter all of your life, my darling.
Acknowledgments (#ulink_76ef119a-a136-508b-ba33-f26ddc8bba62)
There are some who would say I live under a lucky star, but I know better. It takes a choir of angels and then some to bring any novel to the readers who patiently wait for authors to pound out a story that will come alive for them and haunt them long after the cover is closed and it collects dust on a shelf.
I have been blessed for decades with exceptionally talented editors and publishing mentors. From my first Harlequin MIRA books that were honed and polished by Dianne Moggy and others on her team to my present editors and master wordsmiths, Victoria Curran and Claire Caldwell. Ladies all, it is my honor to bang our heads together, cut, slice, dice and chop my oftentimes cumbersome manuscripts into the magical romances I intended them to be. I am forever grateful.
Contents
Cover (#u81e20484-b7a0-5ef6-b1b3-c2342db7e766)
Back Cover Text (#u84a16034-1b94-5a9d-b0a8-beed22ec7431)
Introduction (#uaba7387a-9f36-5e5d-8246-3d22621042c4)
Dear Reader (#ulink_f0183de2-15a0-5e71-b6bd-28382384c5d8)
Title Page (#u3dcc42d8-59c0-5347-b85c-1bc7f1310332)
About the Author (#u9af30724-5c0e-5372-a633-c4161f51d02d)
Dedication (#u9f568ad8-92e9-502b-be86-81f583b9bfa1)
Acknowledgments (#ulink_d543d797-c65c-52b8-a01a-e5298ad32c57)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_61531c38-124f-58d2-83f1-0f912a791e0c)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_4a2b6553-f12c-5b1f-8a0e-6edf0d98c6c5)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_70940e78-1176-5ef5-8c9c-01d06bcafa7a)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_54d6ca86-9cfc-5176-8037-2cd105020fc3)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_d47a3931-768d-5ab5-b48e-10ee6772c578)
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_22860b6a-5592-59f8-8d2b-bbe6b7c3a886)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_ceedb987-128d-583f-aaa6-cb0660aa6d86)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTY (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_b22805fa-bba5-59c8-8ded-82eb4c0035e9)
THE FEBRUARY FOG rolled across the frozen flats of Indian Lake and curled long, diaphanous fingers around the pines and maples at the water’s edge. Canadian geese flew in V-formations across the slate sky above, honking at no particular inhabitants below. There was no wind to rattle the winter-bare branches of the shrubs and neglected rosebushes around the Pine Tree Lodges of Indian Lake, and few tourists were out and about in the dark predawn hours.
Inside Cupcakes and Coffee Cafe, strings of red Valentine lights and glittering silver beads hugged the ceiling in a mock drape, reflecting happy red light into every cranny. Aromas of sugar, butter and freshly ground coffee beans mingled with the clanging of dozens of baking trays being tossed in and out of ovens.
Maddie Strong shouted instructions to her staff of one, twenty-one-year-old Chloe Knowland. Three of Maddie’s closest friends were also on board to help with her Valentine’s Day cupcake orders.
“Next year, I’ll know better than to agree to this insane torture,” Sarah Jensen said, laughing as she slung back the last smidge of Maddie’s special-brew latte. She hoisted two full trays of iced cupcakes onto an empty table marked New Buffalo, then reached for a yellow legal pad to record the details of the order. She counted twenty-four double-chocolate cupcakes with pink peppermint icing, forty-eight vanilla cupcakes with white whipped-cream icing, each topped with a red marzipan heart, and thirty-six red velvet cupcakes with white cooked-flour frosting. Sarah marked off the inventory and looked around for some bakery boxes.
“Torture is a bit strong, don’t you think, sweetie?” Maddie retorted, winking at her best friend. She yanked a very full pastry bag from a stainless-steel rack and placed a fine-point pipe on the end and secured it. The bag was filled with her new recipe for vanilla-bean whipped-buttercream filling. She stuck the pipe into the centers of several double-fudge cupcakes, which she had previously cored out, and squeezed the bag.
“It would be fine if I didn’t have to get up at 4:00 a.m.!” Sarah shouted above the latest cacophony as Isabelle Hawks dropped a stack of aluminum muffin tins on the floor.
“Sorry,” Isabelle said, whisking her dark hair away from her startlingly pretty face. She quickly gathered the muffin tins. “I’m just all thumbs today. Not enough sleep,” she said, endorsing Sarah’s comment.
“Maddie, you do know we make these sacrifices for you because we love you,” Sarah said, flashing a grin at Isabelle.
“It’s either that or you’re expecting a free cupcake out of the deal,” Maddie replied, keeping a critical eye on her work.
“I’ll take the free cupcake,” Liz Crenshaw said offhandedly as she stuck bottles of her grandfather’s new white-grape ice wine into Valentine’s baskets that already contained cupcakes and bags of Maddie’s blend of Colombian and Middle Eastern coffee beans.
Sarah tapped her cheek with her finger. “In that case, I need at least a half a dozen cupcakes. There’s Luke, Annie, Timmy, Mrs. Beabots, me and Beau, of course...”
Maddie froze and shot her best friend a horrified look. “Beau? No way your dog gets one of my gourmet creations!”
“He loves them!” Sarah grinned, keeping her eyes on Maddie’s piping bag. “Squirt a little extra cream into Beau’s cupcake. He adores that stuff.”
In mock horror, Maddie shook the piping bag at Sarah. “That dog has excellent taste. He gets a double blast.”
Sarah carefully arranged a grouping of pineapple-and-coconut cupcakes with coconut-cream frosting onto a round tray and marked it for delivery to the Pine Tree Lodges of Indian Lake. She looked quizzically at Isabelle, who had just been promoted to assistant director at the lodges. “Edgar only wants two dozen cupcakes? I would think the lodges would be booked up for months for Valentine’s dinner.”
“We are,” Isabelle answered confidently and in a somewhat smug tone. “Edgar didn’t like the idea of opening the lodges just for one night when we’re normally closed all winter. But thanks to my online winter ad campaign and the raffle for a free weekend at the lodges, even the cabins are completely booked. Truth is, I took an entire vanful of cupcakes out there last night.”
“Yeah,” Maddie said, waving her piping bag triumphantly. “We just had to make the coconut cupcakes at the last minute so they stay very fresh. I grated the coconut just an hour ago. Nothing but the best for our Isabelle. Aaaannnd,” Maddie said dramatically, piping a huge swirl of peony-pink icing onto an oversize strawberry cupcake. “Edgar Clayton is probably my most loyal customer ever.” She finished the cupcake with a flourish, then licked an errant glob of icing off her wrist.
“Having worked for Edgar for seven years,” Isabelle said, “I have to say that ‘loyal’ defines him quite well. He’s always been diligent about distributing Maddie’s business cards to tourists.”
“Word of mouth. My kind of magic.” Maddie said, never taking her eyes off the pearlized sugar spray she used to decorate the next order. “That, and unique product ideas,” she added.
Sarah finished her inventory and handed the list to Maddie. “Just how many recipes have you patented now?”
“Twenty. And at two grand a pop for legal fees, I haven’t been able to go shopping or on vacation for three years. But, it’s all been worth it.”
Maddie looked just past Sarah. Next to the register was a three-foot-high, perilously thin, black glass vase. Streaming out of the top of the vase were jungle-red anthurium flowers, green palms and white orchids. They were from Alex Perkins, of Chicago’s esteemed investment firm Ashton and Marsh. Sarah’s uncle, George Regeski, had helped Maddie prepare a business plan for franchising her “made-on-the-spot cupcakes and Italian café” concept last year. George had scoured his network of investment firms and had finally found some interest at Ashton and Marsh. Their initial response was lukewarm, but they were willing to “take a meeting,” Uncle George had told Maddie last November.
Since then, Maddie’s nerves had been on overload. She had worked ceaselessly since high school graduation for this one opportunity to prove to herself that she was accomplished. This was her blue ribbon; her Oscar.
Because Maddie was the only child of a single mother, Babs Strong, who worked in a bread-manufacturing plant, Maddie hadn’t had the money or means to go to college. But no one was more passionate about acquiring a business degree than Maddie.
Maddie had learned accounting and business management by copying the reading lists of the required classes her wealthier friends took in college. She read all the same materials and texts they did. It was her bet that on any given day, she was on an even par with the best of them.
It was Sarah’s mother, Ann Marie, who’d seen Maddie’s business potential and believed in her café-and-cupcake vision right from its conception. Ann Marie had gone to Austin Carlson McCreary, by far the wealthiest man in town, and asked him to be an “angel investor” in Maddie’s café. Austin, twenty-eight years old at the time and a near recluse, agreed to put up a small amount of working capital for Maddie, but only because he respected Ann Marie and her judgment.
Maddie’s café was a hit from the day the doors first opened. She worked fourteen hours a day and repaid the twenty-five thousand Austin had loaned her in less than three years. Because Austin never asked for interest or a dividend, Maddie was only too happy to fulfill his one eccentric request. Every Friday at eight in the morning, Maddie was to hand-deliver a box of seven assorted cupcakes to Austin’s front door. Maddie never missed a Friday.
After ten years in business, Maddie was about to take her first step toward her ultimate goal. She was working with Alex Perkins on franchising her café. There were hundreds of ifs between this moment and the actuality of a dozen Cupcakes and Coffee Cafés opening across the Midwest. Maddie had always believed in her dream. If she didn’t dream it, it would never happen. And she intended to make all her dreams come true.
Maddie stared at the expensive bouquet, which Alex had sent several days ago, and which she’d almost been too busy to notice, though Chloe and her girlfriends certainly had. Gazing at the spectacular flowers, she wondered why Alex would send her such an ostentatious gift. They were only business associates. She was his client, that was all. Wasn’t it?
“Are you listening to me, Maddie?” Sarah asked.
“Sorry,” Maddie said, wiping her hand on her bright red-and-white-striped apron. “Could you repeat that?”
