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bank manager, had looked at her when she’d taken off her cap had told her she’d made the right call. He’d been completely polite, but she didn’t miss how his gaze had fixed on her hair before traveling down to her face. His eyes had been understanding and kind, but she knew their meeting began with an automatic subtext, and it had all gone downhill from there.
    There would be no loan for the expansion. Meg put her hand in her coat pocket and ran her fingers over the rock inside. It had been a silly notion, thinking to rely on her old good luck charm. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to toss it away. It was just a rock, a piece of brown stone with an unusual golden streak running down the middle. But Clay had given it to her when they were just kids.
    He’d been angry in those days not long after his father had died and Stacy had come to live with him. Megan remembered it all quite clearly. “That’s very pretty,” she’d commented as he’d turned the rock over in his hands.
    Without a smile he’d handed it over. “Then it’s yours, Squirt,” he’d said, and she’d ignored the horrible nickname simply because Clay had given her something—even if it was just an ordinary rock.
    Today she’d dug it out of the box on her dresser and tucked it in her jacket. It seemed fitting that she have a talisman from the one person to be supportive of her dream. He’d been honest but he’d also encouraged her to keep at it and she’d clung to those words. Because of them she’d set up the meeting. It had been for naught but at least she’d tried. Now all she really wanted was a strong coffee and something sinfully chocolatey.
    The smells coming from Snickerdoodles bakery were too good to resist. She paused for a moment, wondering if she were up to coming face-to-face with Jen Laramie today. Clay was right about one thing—she’d been avoiding her friends since her return. It didn’t matter how many times she practiced lines in her head, she was never quite sure what she would say. She knew she was being a coward and she took a breath and dropped her shoulders. Perhaps with a glass counter between them it would be easier, less personal, a way to break the ice.
    She set her lips and put her hand on the doorknob. The bell above the door gave a happy jangle as she stepped inside the shop and its gorgeous blend of scents—brewing coffee, rich chocolate and spicy cinnamon.
    A young woman she didn’t recognize was behind the counter, and Meg found that despite her resolve she was relieved she wouldn’t have to face Jen. She would have to face her friends eventually—she couldn’t avoid them forever. Nevertheless, she was still thankful that today wasn’t the day, especially when she was so very disappointed at the morning’s outcome.
    She ordered a gooey, thickly frosted hazelnut brownieand a large dark roast coffee to go. Meg took her waxed paper packet and coffee cup and made her way outside again into the March sun. She sat on a nearby wooden bench and slid the brownie partly out of the wrapper. The first bite was heaven. The second, fortifying. She took a sip of the strong coffee and sighed. As comfort food went, it didn’t quite match up to her mother’s beef stew and fresh bread, but for right now it worked. Mark Squires had delivered the bad news and it was either buck up with a jolt of caffeine and cocoa, or wallow in self-pity about yet another thing that cancer had stolen from her. She’d rather work off the calories in the barn than waste precious time feeling sorry for herself.
    â€œWell, well. A public appearance.”
    Her head snapped up and she nearly bobbled her brownie as Clay’s deep voice slid over her nerve endings. Her tongue seemed to tangle in her mouth as she swallowed. She had put her crush behind her, so why in the world did she still find him so gorgeous? It was