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She walked through the store to the new opening in the west wall that led into the building next door. Allison had bought that property when the old tenant had moved out, and the carpenters had finally finished the improvements to expand the shop.
Jenny stood in the doorway and looked at the empty space. They still needed to paint, but new cabinets and shelving lined the far wall. There was plenty of room for class supplies and fabric. And they could bring in the portable sewing machines from storage.
Jenny walked to the area right at the front window. “What do you think about getting a big round table and some comfortable chairs for this area?”
A bright smile lit up Millie’s face. “Women can come here to socialize and quilt.”
Jenny shrugged. “A lot of the customers are friends and neighbors. Why not make a place where they can come and work on their projects together, share ideas and tips. We can call it Quilters’ Corner. What do you think?”
Millie beamed. “You won’t have any trouble filling that table.”
Jenny nodded. Good. She had one problem solved, but she was still being nagged by Evan Rafferty. Darn that man for stirring her up. The last thing she needed was a man to disrupt her life right now. She already had enough to deal with.
Yet, she couldn’t stop thinking about his daughter. She wanted to do something to help Gracie. An idea suddenly hit her.
“Millie,” she began. “If I moved the adult classes to Wednesday and Saturday mornings that would open up time on Saturday afternoons.”
Millie hesitated. “What do you have in mind?”
“Maybe a girls’ class.”
The older woman studied her a moment. “That’s a big undertaking because one little girl wants to finish a quilt.”
Was that all Gracie wanted? Jenny wondered, thinking back to her own childhood. She had been overshadowed by her stepbrothers and ignored by her stepfather. The worst part was that her mother had let it happen. Maybe that had been Gracie’s experience since her mother’s death—maybe she felt pushed aside. The big question was, was an eight-year-old too young to join a quilting class?
No.
Jenny looked at Millie. “Do you think some of our regular customers would help out with a mentoring class?
The woman shrugged. “Probably. Is this for any student, or are you talking about one in particular?”
“Maybe, but why can’t we help a little girl finish her quilt?”
Millie nodded. “If we’re talking about a quilt her mother started, it’s not a simple matter. Megan Rafferty was pretty close to an expert quilter. She’d sold several at the local craft fair. But you’re right. This could help Gracie, especially since she lives with a houseful of men.” A slow smile lit up Millie’s face. “All those Rafferty men are a handsome bunch.”
Jenny softened thinking about Evan Rafferty, recalling the raw pain in those eyes. That was her clue to stay clear of the handsome cowboy.
Even without his bad attitude, he still belonged to someone else.
The next afternoon, Jenny headed over to Kerry Springs Elementary School, flyers in hand. She was hoping that the school principal, Lillian Perry, would help promote her class.
When the office door opened she was surprised to see a woman not much older than herself. The attractive brunette smiled as Jenny greeted her and they walked inside.
The principal closed the door. “Thank you for waiting, Ms. Collins.”
“Please, call me Jenny.”
“And I’m Lily.”
After Jenny sat down in a chair, Lily did the same behind her desk. “I hear you’ve taken over the Blind Stitch.”
She nodded. “News travels fast.”
“It does in this town. And my mother practically lives at your shop. Beth Staley.”
“Oh, of course. She and Millie are friends.”
Lily nodded. “So what can I do for you?”
Jenny jumped right in. “I was hoping you could help me promote a children’s quilting class.” She handed her a flyer. “It’s free.”
Lily glanced over the paper. “This looks interesting.” She eyed Jenny. “Generous, too.”
She shrugged. “Call it community service. I’m still not sure how many women I can get to volunteer. Just so you know, I’m asking for your mother’s help. It’s my plan to pass on the craft to a new generation.”
Lily leaned her forearms on the desk. “I’m sure Mother would love it,” she told her. “She’s been trying to get my daughter, Kasey, interested. Maybe with a class and with other girls her age, she’ll want to participate.”
They spent the next twenty minutes going over the program; it would not only be good for the young girls to learn a craft, but it would also help them build a relationship with an older generation.
“Blind Stitch will donate fabric and thread, but we’d like to encourage kids to bring in some of their own material. Maybe some blocks cut out of old clothes. Everyone is big on recycling.”
“Oh, I love that,” Lily said. “Take pride in your family, your heritage.” She leaned back in her chair. “I like your enthusiasm, Jenny, and I’ll be happy to pass out the flyers to the upper grades.” She stood. “Since the bell is about to ring, I need to be out front. I like staying connected to my kids.”
“I used to do that,” Jenny told her. “Of course, my students were older. High school.”
Lily gave her a sideways glance. “You aren’t teaching any longer?”
Jenny didn’t want to go into details. “I’m taking a semester off for now.”
She hated that her attitude about teaching had changed, although never about her students. She would always stand up for the kids; she just didn’t always win the fight. “I’ll be returning in the fall.”
The bell sounded as they walked out the door. In the bright sunlight, chatty students hurried to meet their rides home, but many stopped to greet their principal, Jenny realized she missed that connection she’d once had with her students.
She heard her name called and turned around to see Gracie Rafferty.
“Jenny. Why are you at my school?”
“Hi, Gracie. I came to meet Mrs. Perry.”
The girl looked at her principal and smiled. “Hello, Mrs. Perry.”
“Hello, Gracie. Jenny came to tell me she’s going to have a young girls’ quilting class at her shop.”
Those big eyes widened. “Really?”
Jenny was glad that made the child happy. “Really. And maybe you can work on your quilt, too,” she told her.
The girl seemed excited, but before she could speak again, they heard someone call her name. Jenny glanced around and saw Evan Rafferty standing next to his truck.
The child’s smile faded quickly. “I can’t. It will make my daddy mad.” She turned and ran to the man who had been on Jenny’s mind since their first meeting.
“Excuse me, Lily. I need to speak to someone.”
Jenny stared over at the truck. She needed to get through to this man, but seeing the stubborn set to Evan Rafferty’s jaw, she knew it wasn’t going to be easy.
“Mr. Rafferty,” she called sweetly. “May I speak with you?”
Evan closed the passenger-side door, then stepped away from the truck and his daughter’s hearing. “I’m short on time right now.” He gave her the once-over. “Beside, we finished our business the other day.”
She ignored him. “Since it’s about your daughter, I thought you might spare me a minute.”
Evan adjusted the hat on his head and stared into her velvety, brown, dark eyes. He felt a surge of heat. He quickly glanced away.
“Well, you thought wrong. Look, I need to be somewhere right now.” Anywhere away from you. He stepped off the curb, climbed into his truck and drove off.
Jenny stood, feeling anger stirring inside. How dare the man … Okay, so she had to figure out another way to help the girl. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d fought for a child. She refused to give up on either one of them.
CHAPTER TWO
THE next afternoon, Jenny turned her compact car off the highway, and then along a narrow road until she came to the archway announcing the Triple R Ranch and Rafferty’s Vineyard.
This probably wasn’t the brightest idea. Yet, she wouldn’t stop fighting for kids. She knew what it was like to feel alone, to have no one on your side, especially not your parent. Her own mother had refused to listen to her pleas for help. The teasing, the abuse from stepbrothers who’d been older and should have protected her. They shouldn’t have been allowed to pick on an eight-year-old. And no one had done a thing.
Her mother had gotten angry because she’d caused a rift in the family. Family? They were never a family.
Jenny shook away the bad memories. Was that the reason she’d become a crusader for kids? Why she’d wanted to be a teacher? So the young and innocent would have someone to confide in? So they’d know someone was on their side? How many times had she gone the extra mile to help a student succeed? She loved helping kids realize their potential and dreams.
Then it had all fallen apart recently when she’d lost a battle over one of her students. Luis Garcia was excellent college material and she’d worked hard to help him apply for scholarships. Then Luis got into a fight defending another student, and they’d found a knife. Even though the small pocket knife wasn’t Luis’s, the principal took the word of the other boy and his friends—Luis was expelled immediately.
Jenny begged the principal to at least let him take his mid-term tests, but he’d refused to allow any special consideration.
Jenny knew Luis would never return to school. She was discouraged, too, and took a leave of absence during the spring semester. She needed the time to figure things out, to stop feeling as if she got too involved to be a teacher.
So what did she do now? She went storming into another conflict. She didn’t have any business nosing into Gracie’s life, but that had never stopped her before. If a child was crying out, she wanted to make sure someone heard. Gracie Rafferty was crying out.
She slowed as she approached the ranch. There were several head of cattle grazing in the pasture. On the opposite side of the road was a hillside covered in perfect rows of trellises heavy with grapevines. It was breathtaking.
She continued on until she came to a compound with a large barn and a fenced corral. Then a two-story clapboard house appeared, painted a glossy taupe with burgundy shutters and a large welcoming porch. The yard was thick with new spring grass and an array of colorful flowers edged the split-rail fence.
The place looked immaculate.
Jenny pulled up on the gravel parking area and got out. She released several calming breaths as she made her way up the walk. By the time she reached the porch, an elderly gentleman had come out of the house. Big and burly, he had a head of snow-white hair and a broad grin across his face.
“Hello, lass.”
She couldn’t help but smile back. “Hello. I’m Jenny Collins and I’m looking for Mr. Rafferty.”
Still grinning, the man nodded. “And which one of us would you be wantin’? I’m Sean,” he said with a slight bow. “Or my sons, Evan and Matthew?”
She could see where Evan got his good looks. Too bad he didn’t get his father’s charm. “It would be Evan.” She glanced around, feeling nervous. “If he isn’t busy I’d like to speak with him.”
“He isn’t here at the moment. Why don’t you come in and wait. We’ll have some tea.”
She hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to intrude. If he isn’t going to be long, I could wait out here.”
Sean motioned for her to step up on the porch. “A pretty lass like yourself would only brighten my day. Please come in.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you. I accept your invitation.”
Jenny went ahead of Sean and inside the house to the entrance hall. To one side there was a small living room that looked too formal and neat to get much use. Past a staircase with ornate spindles was a dining room with a long table and half a dozen chairs lining either side.
“The Raffertys are an informal bunch. The kitchen is where our hearts are. Around food.”
Jenny followed Sean on into the big open room. Miles of cabinets lined the walls, and a solid counter displayed many appliances. There was a natural-stone backsplash that highlighted the area. But it was the wonderful aroma that hit her that made her feel this was truly a home.
“Please, have a seat,” Sean told her as he went to the refrigerator. “Would you prefer hot or cold tea?”
“Whatever is easiest for you,” she said as she eyed the connected family room with oversized furniture and a television.
“You have a lovely home, Mr. Rafferty.”
He set a glass of iced tea in front of her. “First of all, please, call me Sean.”
“Only if you call me Jenny.”
He nodded and continued. “And secondly, this house belongs to my son Evan and his daughter. My other son Matt and I moved in about a year ago to help out after Evan’s wife, Megan, passed away.”
She immediately saw his sadness. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
He nodded. “Thank you. It’s been a rough time for my son and the little one.” He looked thoughtful, then finally went on to say, “Anyway, the three of us worked out a partnership.” He grinned. “I’m not a rancher, that’s Evan’s livelihood and it’s now Matt’s too.”
“Is the vineyard yours?”
He shook his head, smiling easily. “It’s Evan’s, too. I’m just the cook and bottle-washer around here.”
Jenny liked this man. Had Evan been this way before his wife’s death? “Don’t diminish your contribution to the family, Sean. I have a feeling you do more than you’re saying.”
He leaned against the counter and arched an eyebrow. “I like you, Jenny Collins. So how long have you lived in Kerry Springs?”
“I worked here for a summer two years ago and was here again last summer for a visit, but I returned recently and took over running the Blind Stitch quilt shop.”
“I’ve seen the store. It’s across the street from Rory’s Bar and Grill. I tend bar there on the weekends.”
“Really. I haven’t been there.”
“It’s a nice neighborhood bar. A few friendly games of billiards and darts and a little dancing on weekends. You should stop by sometime.” He cocked his head. “But I am curious. What does my son have to do with a quilt shop?”
“It’s Gracie. She came into the shop interested in my class.”
