“We’re all grateful he feels that way.” Poor Bull was still unhappy he hadn’t caught the problem before.

A customer entered the shop, and Sarah rose. “It was nice to finally get a chance to talk with you. We’re glad you’re here.”

What a sweet thing to say. “Thank you.”

Nibbling on the pastry, Frankie watched Sarah serve the steady stream of customers. Some came in for coffee, some for bakery goods. A person could have a pastry and coffee, or take a pie or loaf of bread home for the family. Unlike New York where every tiny shop had a specialty, the Rescue stores often merged a couple of businesses into one. There was an art gallery with crafting and hobby supplies. The sports store that catered to fishermen also rented ski equipment and bikes. The hardware store sold lumber.

Everyone was friendly. She couldn’t recall a time in New York, ever, when a store owner came out for an introduction and gossip session.

If it weren’t for worrying about Kit, she’d be more content in Rescue than she’d ever been in her life. The town itself was great. Like with that woman who’d twisted her ankle. After seeing her in the health clinic, Caz had told his brothers she needed help. Bull, naturally, volunteered to do a food run. All his family had taken turns visiting the woman, then the town found out, and the woman had more help than she knew what to do with.

Frankie smiled. She’d gone with Bull on the food run…because just being with him was wonderful.

She’d sure failed at keeping their relationship casual. Guilt swept over her. The minute she had Kit and Aric in her car, she was out of here, probably without saying any goodbyes, and then she’d be back in New York. But…he knew their time would end.

She was past the point of no return; any attempt to shield her heart from being broken was useless.

So, she would simply savor every moment she could spend with him.

Because he was worth the pain.

In the roadhouse, Bull waited for Frankie to arrive. Yesterday, the contractors had finished remodeling the echoingly large room that had held only his desk and filing cabinets. Now there was a conference area with a round table that could seat a dozen people. The back was divided into two offices with sound absorbing partition walls. One was his. The other was equipped with a desk, computer, phone, and the usual office accoutrements. Ready for a manager, whoever they might be.

He knew who he wanted.

Frankie would make an excellent manager, and he hoped the position gave her an incentive to stay. Maybe the position would show her how she could fit in at the roadhouse. With the town. With him.

He wanted to let her know how much he trusted her…and needed her—yeah, that, too.