Page 13 of The Coffee Bar on Camellia Court

Lately, though, instead of the cemetery, Alex found himself parking outside Juno's Coffee Bar in the wee hours of the morning. "Like a stalker," he ground out. How he wished he could just go inside and sit down with a cup of coffee across the counter from her, to talk to her, to listen to her, to just be with her.

But that was just as unlikely to happen as getting answers in a cemetery, wasn't it?

The dash clock clicked to 4:49. In about ten minutes, Juno would unlock the front door and flip the sign to "Open." The early morning crowd would start trickling in - south shore fishermen trying to get a jump on the North Shore tourists, Thad grabbing a to-go cup on his way to open his the bait and tackle shop for them, Dixie May on her way home from working the night shift at the check-in desk of the Carpe Diem Resort, and lately, Ward, who'd been showing up earlier and earlier at Juno's place to pick up coffee and breakfast for the small crew he had helping him finish up the Garden Gate B&B renovation. Tourist season was upon them, and Ward's fiancé, Penny Anderson, and her business partner, Hazel Poleman, were chomping at the bit to put the finishing touches on the place by the end of the month. According to Ward, Penny had already booked their first guests to arrive in less than two weeks, and barring any catastrophes, that barely gave them enough time to let the paint dry.

Of all people, he didn't want Ward St. James to catch him loitering in front of Juno's place. He needed to get out of there.

Alex rolled his shoulders and sat up taller in his seat, then turned the key in the ignition, cringing as The Beast roared to life, the sound echoing off the empty storefronts lining Camellia Court. He shot a quick glance over at the coffee shop, and his heart stuttered in his chest. Through the large plate glass window, Juno had gone completely still, one hand frozen in the act of turning on an antique globe lamp hanging over a set of overstuffed chairs. Even from this distance, he could see the moment recognition hit her. Her head came up, her shoulders drawing back, and she turned slowly to look out toward the street. Although he couldn't make out her expression, he felt the weight of her stare like a physical thing.

He should drive away. Right now.

But he couldn't seem to take his foot off the brake, couldn't seem to look away from her. For a suspended moment, they stayed locked in this strange tableau, him outside in the shadowy dawn, her behind glass and all lit up, almost eighteen years of unspoken words hanging in the space between them.

Then Juno smoothed her hands across the front of her apron and started toward the door.

Alex's foot finally got the message. He threw the truck into drive and was just about to pull away from the curb, when a sharp crack split the quiet like a gunshot.

Juno dropped into a crouch, her instincts sending her straight to the floor. Alex slammed his foot on the brake, and threw The Beast into park, ready to launch himself out of the vehicle to run to her rescue. But even as his heart thundered in his chest, his brain was already processing what he'd actually heard - the distinctive pop of a tire blowout, followed by the scrape-thump-scrape of a car riding on its rim.

A massive cream-colored Buick pulled up to the curb in front of Juno's, listing badly to one side. He immediately recognized the woman behind the wheel - Mrs. Becker, his former high school English teacher. She sat there calmly observing the situation as if she'd had every intention of arriving with such dramatic flair.

Alex released a long, exasperated sigh and bowed his head over his steering wheel. He couldn't drive away now.

He turned off the truck and climbed awkwardly out, lifting a hand in a friendly wave at Mrs. Becker, just in case she hadn't recognized him. He knew he looked pretty rough these days. Their paths met occasionally in the small lake town, and they always greeted each other affectionately. Usually, though, it was in the light of day at the grocery store or a local diner, not on a nearly empty street before the sun was up. Then grabbing his crutches from the back seat, he hobbled across the street toward the front of her car to stand in the beam of the headlights, giving her a clear view of him.

At the same time, Juno emerged from her coffee shop, her back ramrod straight, chin lifted high, a sure sign she was trying to recover her composure. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before they both looked away.

"Well!" Mrs. Becker's bright, humor-laced words carried through her the window she was rolling down. "I did ask the Lord for a bit of excitement this morning, and hoo-boy, did he deliver!" Her eyes twinkled as she glanced between them, her eyes darting back and forth a few times. "He does work in mysterious ways."

"I'm just glad you're all right, Mrs. Becker," Juno said, her professional voice firmly in place. She circled around the back of the car, Alex noted. He was pretty sure she was keeping as much distance between her and him as possible.

To Alex, she said, "Should you be walking on that foot already?"

Alex frowned at her contrariness. How he wished for the return of the attentive Juno who'd escorted him to Urgent Care and then back to his apartment… until that stupid phone call. Besides, he wasn't walking on his foot. He wasn't walking at all, in fact. At the moment, he was just standing there, letting his booted foot rest on the ground. Other than gravity, he was putting none of his weight on it. He had gotten pretty good with his crutches; he'd had a broken leg back in high school and the muscle memory had come back easily. He started to defend himself, but Juno had already shifted her attention back to Mrs. Becker.

"Let's get you inside," she said to the older woman as she held open the door for her. "I'll put on some tea and then you can sit and watch while Mr. Frampton and I get your tire changed for you."

Mr. Frampton? Alex almost snorted at the formality. And really? She was going to help him change the tire? Sure, he had no doubt Juno Thomas knew exactly how to put on a spare, but there was no way he was going to let her get her hands dirty right before she opened her shop. Sprained ankle or not, he did have his dignity. How he'd get the stupid spare out of the trunk by himself, he had no idea at the moment, but he'd figure it out, even if it meant spraining the other ankle.

"Mr. Frampton?" Mrs. Becker echoed his thoughts with a chuckle. "I haven't heard our Alex called 'Mr. Frampton' since high school, and that was only when he was in trouble." She winked at Alex, who stood a few feet away, giving Juno the space she evidently wanted. "Which, now that I think on it, was rather often, wasn't it?"

Alex grinned good-naturedly at the older woman's ribbing. Mrs. Becker had made it her mission to get to know each of the students who went through her classroom. She learned their strengths and weaknesses, their senses of humor or lack thereof, their habits and quirks, and more. She was the type of teacher who won Teacher of the Year awards, the type students attributed their adult successes to.

"Apparently, I'm still in trouble, according to Juno," he said, then grimaced as he realized how antagonistic the words sounded.I'm not baiting you, he tried to convey to her with the crooked grin he sent Juno's way. Alex knew what people—what women—thought of his smile, especially when he looked at them with a slightly sheepish gaze. He'd used "the look" to his advantage on more than one occasion, but at the sight of her narrowed eyes and the grim line of her mouth, Juno wasn't about to be charmed by him.

"I can't imagine why you'd think so," she replied, her tone nonchalant, but the rigid line between her shoulders told him his words had hit close to home.

As if sensing the tension between them, Mrs. Becker pushed open her door and took Juno's proffered hand. "Tea would be lovely, Juno dear." She allowed her to help her from the car, but her sharp eyes didn't miss a thing. "Alex, you look like you could use a cup of coffee. Or tea, if you'd prefer. My car can wait until we all have a little go-juice in our circulatory system." She wriggled her fingers in his direction. "Come on inside with us."

"That's all right," Alex said, digging his heels in. "I'll get started on the tire if you want to leave the keys with me."

Mrs. Becker hesitated, then handed them over. "All righty," she said with a playful wink. "But you know we'll be talking about you in there, don't you? You sure we can't change your mind?"

"On the house," Juno added, barely looking at him, and he could hear the tension in her voice. It bothered him to no end that he was the one that put it there, but he was at a loss as to how to go about mending things between them. He had no idea where to even start.

"Thanks," he said to her. "You know I won't say no to a cup of Juno's Java. I'll take you up on it after I get the tire changed."

Mrs. Becker nodded slowly, but the look on her face told Alex her mind was going a mile a minute behind her bright eyes. "Well, that's fine then. But I need to say that I'm glad to see both of you this morning. The Lord and I have been discussing you two, believe it or not. In fact, I was just over at Hazel's yesterday to see all the work they're doing, and I was telling her how proud I am of you both. I love it when I get to see my former students making such successes of yourselves. And right here in Autumn Lake, too." She patted Juno's arm. "I am so glad you decided to come back here to us, Juno dear."

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