Hometown Healing

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Hometown Healing Page 9

by Jennifer Slattery


  Noah sat behind a card table and motioned for Jed and Paige to take seats in front of it. “Chairs and tables, right?”

  Jed nodded and explained his needs.

  Noah let out a low whistle and repositioned his ball cap. “That’s a tall order.”

  Creases formed across Paige’s delicate brow. “How many do you have on hand?”

  “Not sure.” He moved a thick black binder closer and flipped through it.

  She offered Jed a hopeful smile that spiked his pulse. And made him reluctant to look away. Man, was she pretty, and sweeter than Grandma’s blackberry pie when she wanted to be. If only he could find a way to coax the sugar from her more often.

  “Everything we make here’s rustic, simple. A lot of it from reclaimed wood we get right off our land or properties nearby.”

  The barn Jed saw earlier. Now there was an idea. He knew at least half a dozen farmers and ranchers with rotting structures taking up pasture space. They’d be happy to let Jed and his buddies cart the wood away. He’d get more than enough to panel his theater and then some.

  Paige nudged him with her elbow, and he startled. “Huh?”

  “When do you need it by?” Noah asked.

  “Two weeks.”

  “Whew. That’d be tight. But we sure could use the money.” He pulled out a price sheet and handed it over. “Plus any word of mouth you’d shoot our way.”

  Paige’s eyes latched on to his, as if she were on his side, as if they were in this together.

  “All right.” Noah exhaled with a quick nod. “We’ll do it.”

  “Yay!” Paige sprang to her feet and spun toward Jed with her eyes looking bright. For a moment, he thought she’d hug him, but then she halted. She turned back to Noah. “Thanks so much. We really appreciate this.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Once all of the paperwork had been filled out and a delivery date set, Jed and Paige left. And though she tried to fight it, if the upward twitch of her mouth was any indication, her excitement over their meeting had squelched all those back-off vibes she’d sent his way on the drive over.

  Now all Jed needed to do was keep the conversation light for the ride home.

  He helped her into his truck and then climbed in beside her. “Got to say, first day on the job, you really knocked it out of the park.”

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling as she put on her seat belt. “Listen, I’m sorry I...acted so sour earlier. I just...” She sighed. “It’s just weird, that’s all.”

  “What? Us working together?”

  “You being my boss, you mean? Yeah.” She gave a soft chuckle and then sobered. “I get what you’re trying to do, but—”

  “What’s that?”

  “Resolve things. Act all friendly.”

  “Is that a crime?”

  “This arrangement will be...complicated. Let’s not make things any more uncomfortable than they already are.”

  In other words, back off.

  But considering his feelings for her right now, he wasn’t sure he could do that.

  Chapter Ten

  Jed slowed as he neared his grandmother’s place. Next door, Paige knelt in front of her mother’s flower bed with her back to him. Ava sat beside her, patting the ground with a small shovel—imitating her mom. Seeing the two together struck something paternal and protective in him. Drew him to Paige more than ever.

  She’d grown into a strong woman of integrity. An attentive and caring mother. Patient and engaged.

  The early afternoon sun accentuated the strawberry blond highlights in her hair. Even from behind, she was beautiful.

  He needed to quit thinking like that. It’d only make it harder to keep the employer-employee lines intact between them. And if he stepped even a little over the clear and firm boundaries she’d set repeatedly, he was likely to spook her off for good.

  He wanted to talk with her, see if she had any questions regarding the script. He needed to give her the old ones and his drama sketches, so she had something to work with. Problem was, he’d left everything back at the office.

  He’d bring them later. In the meantime, he could offer some brainstorming suggestions.

  He parked, leaving his engine humming, and got out. Walking toward her, he adjusted his hat.

  She must’ve heard him coming, because she glanced over her shoulder and then stood.

  He touched the brim of his Stetson with a short nod. “Paige.”

  “Hi.” She plucked off her gardening gloves. “What can I do for you?”

  Used to be, she thought nothing of him stopping by to talk. She’d done the same, often heading over to Grandma’s first thing Saturday morning or after school. And not just to see Grandma.

  “Hey there, princess.” He smoothed a hand over Ava’s head, and she studied him with a furrowed brow similar to the one her mother wore. As if both were debating his decency. “Yard’s looking good.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Glad your mama didn’t get lawn fungus like my grandma did. That stuff’s a pain.”

  She shielded her eyes from the sun. “Did she get it taken care of?”

  “We’re working on it.”

  A brief silence stretched between them as he racked his brain for something else to say, preferably something witty.

  “So, um...” She swiped a lone curl off her forehead. “Can I help you with something?”

  He shifted. “Uh...yeah. I was stopping by to see if you’d had a chance to look at the notes I emailed you.”

  She nodded. “I’ve been doing some research. I don’t know a lot about old train heists.”

  “I’m not married to the idea, if you have something better.”

  “I appreciate that.” She grabbed a water bottle near her feet and took a swig. Ava fussed and reached out with her pudgy hands. Paige’s face softened to a smile, and she handed her bottle over. Her firm expression returned when her gaze shifted to Jed. “I did stumble upon a Bonnie and Clyde article I found interesting.”

  “Hmm... You figuring we should do a historical gig, then?”

  “I don’t know, though it’s not a terrible idea. I was talking more about the overall theme—a pair of robbers in love. It could be funny, and romance sells.”

  He scratched his jaw. Could work. He’d always liked action stories himself, but it was worth a try. Seemed to him any genre would work so long as they put on a good show. And with her doing the writing, it’d give him a glimpse into what touched her heart.

  “Sounds like you’ve given this some thought.”

  She shrugged. “Like I said, I’ve barely started researching.” Ava dug through the dirt and started throwing it in the air. Paige shook her head. “Uh-uh.” She dusted the child’s hands off, then scooped her up and gave her a squeeze. “I just received your notes yesterday, remember?”

  “Right.” He almost chuckled at the stubborn set of her jaw, which made her look as if she were challenging him. Paige had always been competitive. That was what had drawn him—that and the fact she wasn’t scared of dirt and mud. And her laugh, man. When she allowed it to come out, it was enough to lasso a fella good.

  When was the last time she’d had herself a good laugh?

  She brushed dirt from Ava’s cheek. “Shall I flesh out my ideas more, then send you a synopsis?”

  “A what?”

  “A description of the plot.”

  “Sure. Then maybe we can chat about it.”

  She nodded. “Call me whenever.”

  In other words, not in person. Girl wouldn’t budge from that “do not cross” boundary she’d created. “I meant to bring you some of our old scripts, so you could see the format, but I plumb forgot.”

  His phone rang. “Excuse me.” He answered. “Hey, Mom. How’s your day going?”

  “My basement’s flood
ing. Water’s everywhere, and your father’s out of town. Again.” She sounded on the verge of hysterics.

  This phone call could take a while. No sense making Paige wait on him. He caught her eye. “I’ll catch you later? And I’ll bring you those scripts I told you about.”

  Mom’s hysterics stopped. “Who’re you talking to?”

  He headed toward his truck. “Paige.”

  A pause. “The Cordell girl?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “She’s back in town?”

  He bristled at the edge in her tone. That and past experience told him this was one discussion he’d do well to steer clear of. “Regarding your basement—you call a plumber?”

  She huffed. “They don’t answer their phone. Meanwhile my leather furniture is sitting in a pond of water. Pretty soon my wood floors will start warping.”

  He climbed into his truck, still watching Paige. Would’ve been nice to continue their conversation some—might’ve even invited her to coffee.

  Then what? Would she stay in Sage Creek? If she did, could they start dating again? They hadn’t done so well the last time they’d tried. True, life had been hard and chaotic, but that was practically always the case.

  And what about sweet little Ava? Was Jed ready to be a father? He couldn’t pursue Paige until he knew, for certain, the answer to that question was yes.

  “Jed Gilbertson, are you listening to me?”

  He startled at his mother’s sharp reprimand. “Sorry, Mom. What were you saying?”

  “Your mind’s on that girl again, isn’t it? Seriously, Jed, didn’t you learn the first time? Paige Cordell isn’t—”

  “Can you shut the water off?” He pulled into the street, casting one last glance at Paige.

  She stood, positioning Ava on her hip. She looked his way, and his heart did a loop-the-loop.

  He looked away and focused his wayward brain cells back on his phone conversation.

  “How?” She sounded on the verge of tears. “It’s coming from the water heater or whatever that cylinder-like thing is in the storage room.”

  He wasn’t sure where the shut-off valve might be. “Sit tight. I’m on my way.”

  “Thanks, sweetie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “No biggie.” He headed toward the house he’d spent the first eighteen years of his life in and called Grandma on the way.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey-yah. I’m out and about and wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything.”

  “Not that I can think of. Where you headed?”

  “Mom’s.” He relayed the information of the water situation.

  “Oh, my.” She paused. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Not that I can think of, unless you’ve got a skilled plumber on speed dial.”

  “I wouldn’t know anyone she hasn’t already called. Tell her hello for me?”

  “Will do.”

  “Think she’d join us for church Sunday?”

  Unlikely, but Grandma had to know that already, considering all of her invites over the years had been declined. “I’ll ask.”

  “That’s all you can do.”

  “True enough. You busy Saturday morning?”

  “Besides cleaning out my freezer? Nope.”

  “How about making culinary inventions with me?”

  “For the dinner theater?”

  “Yep. Figure we’ll need a new menu, home-on-the-range style, to go with our new decor.”

  “That fancy chef we pay so much won’t come up with something?”

  “Might if we force him.” But the guy didn’t have a creative bone in his stiff-necked body, and the mere suggestion of change made him balk.

  “Saturday sounds fun. You should invite Paige to join us. She always loved fiddling in the kitchen.”

  She wouldn’t be interested if she knew Jed would be there. “I best get going. You have a good day, and watch yourself doing yard work. It’s supposed to be a scorcher.”

  “So I hear, though that doesn’t seem to stop that pretty new neighbor of ours none. I swear she’s been out there weeding her mama’s flower beds for going on an hour.”

  He’d seen.

  “What a sweet thing she is, helping Marilyn like she does, and with a little one underfoot. A smart fella would snatch that girl right up.”

  “Grandma.” This wasn’t something he wanted to talk about.

  He ended the call. He mulled over every conversation he’d had with Paige since she’d returned to town. Every conversation he’d had with her, period, until his thoughts were a jumble of things past, present and future.

  By the time he made it to Mom’s basement, she’d pulled up the area rugs and had laid numerous towels and linens across the floor.

  Face flushed, she swiped the back of her hand against her sweat-glistened forehead. “Finally got a plumber to return my call. Said he’d be here first thing tomorrow.” She threw up her hands. “What am I supposed to do till then?”

  “Give me a sec to turn off the water.” He checked the water heater and sump pump first. Wasn’t there. He stepped gingerly through the growing puddle, toward a small walk-in behind the gym. “Found it.” He shut off the valve, then set to work mopping up the pond seeping into his mother’s wood floor. Next he set portable fans and space heaters on dry surfaces throughout the room.

  “Thanks, sweetie.” She started to hug him, glanced at his wet shirt, then smiled and patted his cheek. But then she frowned.

  “What? Something wrong?”

  “I didn’t realize you were hanging out with the Cordell girl again.”

  Arguing with Mom would only work her up more. “She works for me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He explained the situation, intentionally leaving out the part about her getting fired from her job in Chicago. “Why do you hate her so much anyway?”

  “I don’t hate her. I just have my concerns. We’ve talked about this.”

  Fourteen years ago. Mom had been wrong about Paige then, and she was doubly wrong about her now. Hopefully, given time, she’d come to see that. Regardless, he wasn’t interested in resurrecting a decade-old argument, especially not when his mom was stressed and standing in a flooded basement.

  He stepped toward the sliding glass door. “I’ve got to go.” If he stayed much longer, he’d say something he’d regret. “Call if you need me.”

  For now that was how their conversation regarding Paige needed to end. Though it wasn’t a discussion he could continue to avoid, not if things progressed between them.

  His mom had said often enough that if a man dated a girl, he dated her whole family. Well, the converse was true as well, and even more so when a man and woman got married. If he was going to even consider making Paige a Gilbertson, he needed to make sure that’d be a welcoming, joy-filled transition.

  For both her and sweet little Ava.

  Chapter Eleven

  Paige glanced at her daily planner and sighed. She’d blocked out Ava’s nap time to work on the dinner-theater script, but had no idea how to get started. And her long list of ideas weren’t helping. Maybe Jed had given her too much leeway.

  He was supposed to drop material off yesterday, but said he’d gotten hung up at his mom’s. Did that indicate a lack of follow-through? If so, working for him would be rough.

  Rougher.

  She hated wasting time and writing under unrealistically tight deadlines. That only made failure more inevitable. She glanced through the window, at the cloud cover blanketing the skyline, suggesting dramatically cooler temperatures. Maybe she should shift her run, which she’d planned to go on this evening, to earlier. She grabbed her eraser and made the changes, scheduling in script writing for after supper.

  So long as Jed showed up. It was almost ironic, c
onsidering how much time she’d spent trying to avoid him, that now she was anxious for him to arrive.

  Only for the script samples.

  And maybe if she told herself that enough times, her rebellious heart would believe it.

  She thought back to their conversation the day they drove to New Life Furnishings. Thought back to their senior year in high school, when Jed had joined the football team and started hanging out with the jocks and pom-poms crowd. He’d said he hadn’t left her for Christy, but they had dated...eventually. The question was when did they officially get together? Had Paige pushed Jed in that direction with her accusations?

  What might have happened if she’d listened to him that day, when he’d tried to talk to her, to deny the rumors and profess his love? What if she had believed him?

  She never would’ve met her ex-husband. Wouldn’t be divorced now.

  Nor would she have had precious little Ava.

  Something one of her old Sunday-school teachers used to say swept through her mind. God can bring out good, even in the hard.

  Her phone pinged an incoming email. It was from her uncle. She opened it, skimmed it and laughed. In response to her writer’s block comment, shared in a message she sent him this morning, he’d listed at least fifty random, nonsensical ideas. Murder over Maggie’s magnificent magnolias. A sweet tooth savagely seeks out cookies. Mayhem at the Texas State Fair’s cake baking competition—because chocolate can be deadly.

  “All perfect,” she replied.

  Mom was in her bedroom, napping off a headache. Paige sent her a text to keep an ear out for Ava, changed into her running gear and then left.

  The air was muggier than she’d anticipated, and soon sweat trickled down her temples and between her shoulder blades. Even so, it felt good to stretch her legs and give her mind time to decompress. The writers’ conference was approaching quickly, and she was beginning to have doubts about going. Should she trust Ava with Mom for two overnights? She’d been attentive and engaged, but quick to retreat.

 

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