Free The Trouble With Valentine's Day by Rachel Gibson Page A

knowledge settled in her stomach like a lead ball. Her hope that he was a blind drunk had been in vain. She’d moved to Gospel for a little break from her life. A little rest, relaxation, and reevaluation.
    Kate opened her eyes and sighed. Could her life get much worse? She was lonely and, outside of the M&S, the only conversation she’d had with anyone her own age was with the six-foot-three-inch, green-eyed a-hole from across the parking lot. And what had just taken place between them couldn’t really pass for conversation.
    She had to find something to do. Something other than working in the M&S and watching Friends reruns at night. The problem was that there were only two things to do in this town—join the Mountain Mama Crafters and knit toaster cozies or hit the bars and get toasted. Neither held the slightest appeal.
    The bell above the front door rang, and Stanley called for her to come out front. She wondered if Rob was back and feared yet another transparent matchmaking attempt by her misguided grandfather. But when she moved out front again, thankfully Rob was nowhere to be seen.
    Stanley stood at the end of the counter talking to a woman who looked to be in her late fifties, early sixties. Her brown hair was streaked with gray and brushed into a perfect bob. She stood only a few inches shorter than Kate’s grandfather, which made her about Kate’s height. Between the open zipper of her thick coat hung a red stethoscope. Regina stood with them, and the two women were telling Stanley about their poetry social.
    â€œI hope you’ll change your mind,” the taller woman said. “Our monthly social group could use a few men.”
    â€œWhat about Rob?” Regina asked.
    As Kate approached, the taller woman shrugged and looked up at Stanley. “I saw you put Rob to work shoveling your walk.”
    â€œHe volunteered.” Stanley looked up at Kate, and the corners of his handlebar mustache turned up. “Grace, I don’t believe you’ve met my granddaughter, Katie Hamilton.”
    â€œHello.” Kate stuck out her hand, and the other woman took it into hers.
    â€œIt’s nice to meet you, Katie.” Grace turned her head to the side and looked at Kate for a moment. Age lined her green eyes, and her fingers were still a little cold. “Where did you get your red hair? It’s beautiful.”
    â€œThanks.” Kate dropped her hand to her side and smiled. “My father’s family has red hair.”
    â€œGrace is Rob’s mother,” Stanley told her. “She works down at the Sawtooth Clinic.”
    Kate felt her stomach drop, and she forced her smile to stay in place. Had Rob told his mother about the Duchin Lounge? Did the nice lady with the stethoscope know that Kate had propositioned her son? Did Kate need to explain that she’d been a little tipsy that night? That it had been the one and only time she’d propositioned a man in a bar? That she really wasn’t a drunk slut? Not that she didn’t have sluttish thoughts sometimes. She’d just never had the nerve to act on them before that night.
    Good grief! She was rambling inside her own head. “It’s nice to meet you, Grace.” She took a few steps back before her rambling could make its way out of her mouth. “I’m going to finish stacking the paper towels,” she said and took off for aisle three. Why should she care what Rob Sutter’s mother thought of her? Grace had raised a rude and obnoxious son. She obviously wasn’t perfect either.
    Just as Kate picked up a roll of Bounty and set it on the top shelf, Grace walked down aisle two, Regina following on her heels.
    â€œI need to talk to you, Grace.”
    â€œI really don’t have time to chat. I’m just here long enough to get some sugar cubes for the clinic,” Grace said.
    â€œIt won’t take but a minute,” Regina insisted as the two women stopped on the