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should stop flirting with the waitress. She won’t be the same…until she realizes it was a one-time visit.”

      “Will it be?”

      Sally stiffened in her chair. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

      “I might hang around anyway, so I can soften you up a little.”

      Sally took a bite of her meat loaf and chewed it before she answered his suggestion. “I wouldn’t think your grandfather would agree to sign a non-compete clause. After all, the area has a lot of appeal, surely he’s looking to open nearby?”

      “Well, he assures me that he’s not interested in competing with you. How long did you say you’ve owned the store again Sally?”

      “It’s been in my family since 1922, but running it alone is still all new to me.” Sally took another sip of her water and felt the prickle of tears threatening at the back of her eyes.

      “You are probably having a hard time handling everything. Why would you turn down some help?” Hunter’s voice was gentle.

      He’d hit soft tissue. Sally was finding herself overwhelmed with all that had happened. Some mornings, she didn’t think she’d manage to do everything that had to be done. But why would this man be willing to help her? She was trying to fill three roles—hers, her mother’s and her father’s. Eventually she’d be able to manage everything. They would hit the slow season after Christmas.

      But now?

      “Do you think you’d be that big a help?” Sally asked, eager to know more about the man seated in front of her.

      “I thought maybe you would be interested in any warm body, at this point, especially at this time of year. And I do have some experience in working in a store.”

      “You’ve worked as a salesman in your grandfather’s stores?”

      “Yeah. He’s one of the old school who believe you have to learn from the bottom up.”

      Sally rolled her eyes. “I take it you didn’t enjoy that kind of work?”

      “Actually I enjoyed a lot of the jobs. Selling was one of the fun ones. I like people.”

      “Aren’t you anxious to return home to be with your family for Christmas?”

      “My grandfather expects me to work until Christmas Eve. I think I may enjoy working here rather than returning to Denver.”

      “Is your grandfather your only relative?”

      Hunter gave a small smile. “My first name comes from the family name. My grandmother is dead. My parents are divorced and have been for a while. My mother probably won’t be in Denver for Christmas.”

      Sally could tell that Hunter found it difficult to talk about his family. “I don’t think your grandfather would appreciate your staying here until Christmas, Hunter. I bet he’ll ask you to come home before Christmas so you can spend the holiday together.”

      “My grandfather would work everyone until midnight Christmas Eve if it didn’t get bad publicity! I’d like to stay on a little longer. What do you think?”

      “I’ll think about it, Hunter. That’s all I can promise you tonight.” The evening had been pleasant and Sally had enjoyed Hunter’s company more than she thought she would. But could she really let him work at her store every day?

      “Okay, you’ll see me tomorrow,” Hunter said, with a gleam in his blue eyes that Sally just didn’t want to think about!

      CHAPTER TWO

      THE next day, Sally found herself looking forward to going to work. She argued with herself that this was just because she had a lot to do in time for the Christmas Festival and not because Hunter Bedford had promised to return. It shouldn’t make such a difference to her life anyway. She’d stalled him, but deep down his promise to come back added a sparkle to going to the store.

      Once there, she kept waiting for Hunter to reappear. By noon, she gave up thinking he’d walk in any minute. Obviously she’d convinced him he’d be wasting his time. She had actually considered what he was offering. Having an extra hand in the store would be appreciated, especially if she wasn’t paying him a salary.

      Of course, the store was doing well enough that she could afford to pay him; she could even give up work herself if she wanted to. Her father had consistently saved a portion of income for the past twenty-five years, investing it in several mutual funds. In addition to the life insurance her parents had carried, the savings were enough to pay for at least twenty years of living well, without working at all. But she knew the store was in her blood.

      “Aren’t you going to eat your lunch today, Sally?” Mary, one of the ladies who came in to work at the store, asked.

      “Oh, yes. I was just daydreaming. I’m going to eat now, Mary, thank you.” Sally went to the back room, where a section had been set up for break time, including a table and chairs and a small refrigerator and microwave.

      When Sally sat down at the table with her lunch, she told herself she should be glad Hunter Bedford hadn’t come back. But she had to admit that his visit had provided a little excitement for her. Something to lift aside the doldrums of her mourning and the pressure she was experiencing. But she could manage on her own. Of course she could.

      Just then, Ethel, the other woman who worked for Sally, came into the back room.

      “Yes, Ethel? Is there a problem?” Sally asked.

      “No, not exactly. But there’s a man here who—”

      “I’ll be right out,” Sally said as she jumped up from her chair. So he had come back!

      She brushed back her hair, hanging loose and flowing today, and hurried out into the store. But there was no terrific smile waiting for her. No snappily dressed man standing around. No sparkle.

      Just a farmer dressed in his overalls.

      “Hello. Can I help you?”

      “Yes, ma’am. I’m Joe Sanders. My wife picked out a gadget she wanted for Christmas and I’m wondering if you could show me what it is?”

      “Oh, Mrs Sanders. Yes, of course, I know exactly what she wanted. Come this way with me, please.”

      “Ma’am, I have a little problem.”

      Sally stopped and looked at the man. “A problem?”

      The man flushed slightly and shifted nervously in front of Sally. “Well, my wife said it costs a hundred dollars and, well, I don’t have a hundred dollars. I wondered if you’d consider letting me pay it out. I have thirty-five now, and I can pay thirty-five the next two months. I promise I’m trustworthy.”

      Sally smiled. “I’m sure you are, Mr Sanders. And yes, I’ll sell it to you for thirty-five today and thirty-five in January and February. If that’s what you want?”

      The man’s face turned red. “Yes, ma’am. My wife would be very disappointed if she doesn’t get it for Christmas, even though I told her I didn’t have the money. I think she still believes in Santa Claus.”

      “I understand. I’ll write out a paper for you to sign. But let me show you what she chose, first.”

      When the man had seen the gift his wife wanted and signed the paper, paying his thirty-five dollars today and taking his gift with him, Sally returned to her lunch.

      The request from Mr Sanders had reminded her again of the importance of the service they provided here at the store. Her father had first introduced a long payment plan about fifteen years ago. Since then, he let it be known that he could trust a few people to pay out their Christmas gifts. After all, her father had said it served the Spirit of Christmas.

      It wasn’t something that regular stores did. They would let someone pay out the cost of the gift, but they didn’t

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