Is the past about to destroy the future for Faith when she
discovers her new boyfriend and her first love are in business together?
Faith owns The Coffee Pot in the outdoor adventure sports
mecca of Derbyshire’s Peak District. She hasn’t had a man in her life for a
while, as she has been too busy serving cakes to weary rock climbers and
mountain bikers to find time for the complications of a relationship with the
male of the species.
Then Zane and Matt arrive on the scene as the new owners of
the Carrdale Adventure Sports Centre.
Dating Zane, she soon discovers he’s not the Mr Perfect she
thought he was; and why is he so reluctant to talk about his past?
As for Matt – well, to Faith he isn’t Matt at all because he
was a completely different person when he broke her heart all those years ago.
With her new boyfriend and her first love running Carrdale
as business partners – Matt out to cause trouble and Zane keeping secrets –
Faith struggles to keep the peace between them whilst trying to figure out how
she feels about the two men in her life…
Here's chapter one....
“I guess that’s
the man you’ve been waiting for.”
Sophie nudged
Faith, almost knocking the fresh-from-the-oven apple pie from her hands, and
pointed towards the door.
Faith chose to
ignore the double meaning behind her friend’s words. She wasn’t waiting for any
man, not in the romantic sense anyway, and certainly not a guy who reminded her
of Aaron. Her café, which she had created from scratch six years ago, was
hosting the meeting of the local Tourism Association. And the guy currently
making his way towards her was Zane Ferguson, one half of the new ownership
team of the Carrdale Outdoor Activity & Extreme Sports Centre. She’d
reluctantly phoned him a few days ago when he’d arrived in the UK and invited
him to the meeting to give everyone an update on the Centre.
“Faith, right?”
he said, extending his hand and hopping onto one of the stools in front of the
café’s counter. The hand was firm, slightly rough to the touch and warm. It was
strangely comforting. “I’m Zane. Good to get to put a face to your name at
last.”
Faith nodded,
even though she was anything but pleased to put a face to the name of Zane
Ferguson. What kind of a name was Zane anyway? It sounded all-American, as
though he should be something like a baseball player, a superhero, or a cowboy
– certainly not an English extreme sports instructor. Out of the corner of her
eye she could see Sophie giving Zane the once-over. Sophie knew all about
Aaron, knew every detail of what had happened. No doubt she too was now
silently making comparisons between Zane and Aaron.
“So, how are you
settling into our little community, Zane?” Sophie wandered over and leaned on
the counter, smiling up at him.
Faith noticed
that before Sophie had draped herself provocatively across the café’s counter
between the plates of scones and cupcakes, she had surreptitiously undone the
top two buttons on her shirt. Subtle.
Faith
watched Zane closely, and he instantly earned a brownie point with her; he
didn’t seem to have fallen for Sophie’s feel-free-to-look-down-my-shirt
ploy. Or if he had, he must have done it swiftly and discreetly. He smiled at
Faith and Sophie as he replied.
“Settling in
very well, thanks. Haven’t had much chance to get my bearings yet though. Since
I got back to the UK it’s been all about sorting things at the Centre and
finding myself somewhere to live. For starters I was camping on the office
floor in a sleeping bag.”
“You’ve
been living in Austria, I heard,” Faith said as she arranged cakes on plates.
“I
have. Been out there for several years.” He laughed and rubbed at the stubble
on his chin. “I forget how quickly word gets round in small communities.”
“Oh,
the gossip around Carleton is faster than high-speed broadband,” Faith replied.
Meeting his gaze she added, “You’ll get used to it. Even if you haven’t done
much worthy of the gossipmongers, don’t think you get to escape. If people
can’t find out all your secrets they will happily speculate and just make
things up anyway. When you live in a little village miles from anywhere on the edge
of the hills of the Peak District, people get quite adept at making their own
entertainment.”
“Sounds
interesting.” He paused, then added, “And a bit sinister too, if you don’t mind
me saying so.”
“Do
you have any secrets to hide then, Zane?” Sophie asked mischievously.
“Er,
no, not really,” he replied, looking away and fiddling with a pile of
serviettes on the counter.
Faith thought he
looked a little uncomfortable with Sophie’s question.
“Can we get you
something to drink before we start the meeting?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Thanks. Coffee.
Black, please.”
“Coming right
up. Help yourself to anything you fancy,” Sophie said, pointing at the array of
cakes and pies on the counter, though the way she said the words hinted that
the ‘help yourself’ and ‘fancy’ part of the offer included herself as well as
the cakes.
“Thanks I’m
starving. I didn’t have chance to get anything to eat between leaving the
Centre and coming down here for the meeting.”
“Oh, in that
case you can’t survive on just cakes tonight.” Sophie glanced at the steamed-up
windows of the café and the rain hammering against them. “The weather is awful
today, you need something to warm you up. Let me make you a toasted sandwich.
Cheese OK?”
“Yes. Thanks.
Much appreciated.”
Sophie
disappeared into the kitchen.
“So, this is a
great café, it’s all your own business isn’t it?”
Faith busied
herself with slicing up the now cooled apple pie.
“I see you’ve
benefitted from the gossips yourself then, getting the lowdown on all the
locals.”
He laughed.
“I called into
the corner shop the other day. By the time I’d left twenty minutes later, I not
only had milk, eggs and bread, but also a potted history of most of the
inhabitants of Carleton.”
“Ah. That would
have been from Martha, gossip extraordinaire. In return for filling you in on
all of us I’m sure she must have given you her twenty-questions interrogation.”
“She definitely
did. From where I grew up right through to marital status.”
“I’ll look
forward to hearing all about you the next time I call in at the shop then,”
Faith smiled before taking a sip of her coffee.
“You don’t need
to do that.” He propped his elbows on the counter and rested his chin on his
hands. “I’d be happy to tell you anything you want to know myself.”
“One cheese
toastie.”
Sophie reappeared
bearing a plate piled high with twice the amount of toasted sandwich they
usually gave as a portion. It was also garnished with extra salad on the side.
Sophie was clearly a believer in the old adage about the way to a man’s heart.
“Thanks. This
looks great.” He took the proffered plate. “How much do I owe you?”
“On the house,”
Faith replied. “Welcome to Carleton,” she added, even though she wasn’t sure
she entirely meant it. Then she felt guilty. She knew next to nothing about
this guy and shouldn’t be making assumptions about him. He seemed nice enough.
But then, so had Aaron when she’d first met him.
“Cheers,
thanks.” He started on the sandwich, using his fingers rather than the knife
and fork wrapped in a napkin that lay on the edge of the plate.
“We’ll make a
start on the meeting once you’ve finished your toastie,” Faith said, slipping
out from behind the counter. “Sophie, can you give me a hand please?”
Sophie held the
tray as Faith cleared tables, swiftly scrunching up used napkins, stacking
plates and dropping cutlery into the tub.
“Suddenly the
scenery around here just improved no end,” Sophie sighed, her gaze travelling
to where Zane was making short work of the toasted sandwich.
“You’re
incorrigible, Sophie Marston!” Faith looked towards the counter and allowed
herself a quick glance over the new guy in town. Tall, solidly built, with
chocolate-brown hair curling around the collar of his shirt, heavy stubble, a
nice smile.
“Oh come on,
you’ve got to admit I’m right.” Sophie tilted her head to one side to better
assess the back view of Zane. “Nice ass as well! If you don’t want to try, then
I will.”
“Forget it,
Sophie. I’m not interested.”
“But he’s
totally hot in a rugged kind of way,” whispered Sophie. “And let’s face it, hot
guys are in pretty short supply in these parts.”
“True enough.
But that kind of guy, all macho-man outdoorsy, I can well do without, thanks
very much.”
“Faith, just
because things went wrong with Aaron and he was ‘that
kind of guy,’ that doesn’t mean they’re all like it.”
“I know that.”
Faith sighed and allowed herself a few seconds of ogling Zane. Sophie slipped
an arm around her shoulders.
“Anyway, best go
and do the welcome committee bit I suppose.”
Faith quickly
topped up the cake supply then walked over to get the meeting started.
Thirty minutes
later all of the must-sort agenda for the meeting was complete. Now it was time
to invite Zane to stand up to introduce himself, and outline the plans that he
and his business partner had for the Carrdale Centre.
“Right, well,”
Faith began, “as you all know, the outdoor activity centre has new owners. Of
course the Centre is a key part of village life, and pulls in lots of visitors
to the area.”
She beckoned
Zane to come forward and join her.
“I’d like to
introduce Zane Ferguson. He’s one half of the business team who have purchased
the Centre. Zane, would you like to say a few words?”
As he started to
speak Faith found herself strangely reluctant to move away from him. Not only
did he – OK, she admitted it – rank pretty highly on the old attraction scale,
but there was something else, something almost magnetic. Yes, that was it: she
felt drawn to him. He seemed to be one of those people you felt instantly at
ease with, and that worried her. He smelt great too. Most likely, she thought,
a mix of aftershave, shower gel and the great outdoors.
Forcing herself
to step away, Faith watched as Zane easily fielded all the questions fired at
him. The Tourism Association might be small – twenty or so people – but it was
a strong group and an effective one. She loved Carleton – always had, she’d
grown up here and had returned straight out of university to set up in business
as she’d planned. Unfortunately, whilst her business life had met all her young
expectations, her love life hadn’t. Still, she never let herself dwell on that
fact. She was perfectly happy concentrating on her business and on village
life. Wasn’t she?
She glanced
around the café that she was so proud of. Slate floor, beech tables with metal
legs, a feature wall painted in deep red, the log burner (working tonight
because there was a hint of autumn in the air), the leather sofas grouped near
the fireplace. The air was filled with the aroma of baking. She loved this
place. No, she didn’t need men like Aaron or Zane in her life. It was hectic
enough without adding those kinds of complications.
Out at the
front, Zane appeared relaxed as he chatted about the Centre. Faith listened as
he talked about the activities they’d be running up at Carrdale. His hands were
expressive, his face animated. Clearly he loved his work.
There was
something intriguing about Zane Ferguson. The thought was there, pushing its
way to the front of her mind before she knew it: I wonder if he has a significant other.
Where the hell
had that come from? She’d only just met him and already she was debating if
there was a girlfriend, fiancée or even, maybe, a wife, soon to put in an
appearance. Wife? She glanced at his left hand. No ring, but that didn’t
necessarily mean anything, did it? He could still be married; not all men chose
to wear a wedding band.
She felt pretty
sure he’d be involved with someone though. There must be an equally attractive
girlfriend – or several of them – hanging on his every word. Was Faith being
unfair to him because of his line of work? Judging him without having all the
details? Yes, she probably was. After all, she hardly knew the man.
Over by the
counter, Sophie was listening to Zane – and watching him – intently. Typical.
The females of Carleton were already lining up to flirt with Zane
Ferguson.
Reaching for a
slice of ginger parkin, Faith stared out of the windows at the rain, now
battering at the doors as though it wanted to be let in. Thinking about the
weather seemed far safer territory than thinking about Zane Ferguson.
Soon the meeting
of Carleton Tourism Association had drawn to a close. Well, the official
business part of it anyway. Now the social part of the evening began, with
people up and about, mingling, chatting, exchanging ideas and gossip, and
helping themselves to yet more cake.
“Thanks for
speaking to everyone and explaining what’s going on with the Centre.” Faith
found herself at Zane’s side again. “I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea,
addressing a roomful of strangers. Meeting you and hearing about your plans has
helped set people’s minds at rest. So thanks for agreeing to come along
tonight.”
“I admit
meetings aren’t my favourite way to pass the time, but I know the Centre is a
big part of the local economy, and I appreciate that. We need to be a part of
the community. So,” he shrugged, “here I am.”
Faith nodded.
“Well, we’re a
friendly bunch. Anything you need just give us a shout.”
“Thanks.”
“The weather is
very un-summer-like for August,” Faith added, glancing again towards the large
picture windows at the front of the café. It was still raining heavily. This
kind of weather was only to be expected when you lived in the hills of the Peak
District. At almost one thousand feet above sea level, there were, sadly, many
more days like this than there were of sunshine and blue skies.
People started
to pull on their coats as the evening came to an end. Faith was glad she
wouldn’t have to brave the weather; she lived in a flat above the shop.
Zane, she
noticed, had brought a coat with him. It was one of those expensive-brand
waterproofs that managed to also be windproof and breathable and folded down
into a lightweight bundle not much bigger than one of the Coffee Pot’s scones.
Still, it probably wouldn’t have bothered him if he’d got soaked. No doubt he was used to it when he led
kayaking adventures down swollen rivers.
“The weather up
here can turn in a second. One minute sunshine, the next it can be snowing.”
She shivered to emphasise the point. “Still, I guess you’re used to that,
living in Austria, up in the mountains.”
“Yeah.” He
pulled on his jacket. “Always be prepared for anything, the motto of the
outdoor sports instructor.”
“I’ll see you
around the village no doubt. Like I say, if you need any help with anything,
just ask.”
“Thanks.” He
zipped up his coat and beamed a smile at her. “I’ll be taking you up on that
offer.”
He was the last
to leave the café so she followed him to the door, ready to lock up. Outside he
pulled up the hood of his jacket and turned back to Faith.
“Thanks for the
coffee and toasted sandwich.” He paused, looking, she thought, as though he was
debating saying something more.
“And for the
great welcome,” he eventually added. “I already feel at home in Carleton.”
“I’m glad,” she
replied, realising she actually meant it.
After locking
the door she stood for a moment, watching as everyone dashed for their homes or
cars in the pouring rain. Everyone, that is, except Zane Ferguson, who strolled
along High Street, hands in his pockets, as though it was a pleasant summer day
rather than a stormy wet night.
Was there more
to him, she wondered, than the easy-going guy she’d met this evening?
She was certain
the answer to that question was yes. And despite her earlier misgivings, she
knew he had roused her curiosity. She wanted to discover the real Zane
Ferguson.
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