Hometown Healing

by Jennifer Slattery

  Maybe Mrs. Tappen could help keep an eye out?

  The bigger question—what made Paige think she’d land another writing job, one that paid enough to cover the expense of living in the city? Besides, there’d be hundreds, probably thousands, of other writers at the conference, all vying for positions.

  What if Paige hadn’t been let go simply because of budget cuts? What if she’d stunk at her job? Her stomach knotted.

  So she’d start at the bottom, doing grunt work, fact-checking, whatever she could find to get her foot in the door somewhere.

  But was it worth it? Leaving Sage Creek, Mom, Mira, Mrs. Tappen...

  Jed.

  Was Jed worth staying for?

  Pounding out her confusion and uncertainty with every step, she zigzagged her way to the jogging trail marking the circumference of Mirror Lake.

  Four laps in, the wind picked up, and the sky darkened as thick rain clouds swept in. It looked as though she were about to get—

  A fat raindrop plopped onto her forehead. Wet.

  Another followed, and then another. Lightning flashed, unleashing a torrent that soon sent goose pimples up her arm. By the time she made it home, she was drenched. Her hair and clothes clung to her, and mud splattered her calves and shins.

  She opened the front door and poked her head inside. “Mom, can you bring me a towel?” she called out.

  Nothing.

  “Mom?” She stomped her feet and stepped inside.

  She shivered and headed toward Mom’s bedroom. “You awake?”

  She sighed and started to turn toward the hall bathroom when the guest bedroom’s door creaked open.

  “What’s gotten...” Mom’s eyes widened, and then a grin formed on her face. “Girl, you’re a mess. What’d you do, fall into a crick?”

  “It’s raining. Ava still asleep?”

  “Like a rock.” Mom closed the bedroom door softly behind her. “Wait there and I’ll grab you a towel.”

  The doorbell rang, and Paige stiffened. Jed? Of all of the times for him to finally show up...

  Mom stopped midway to the bathroom. “You going to get that?” Before she could answer, Mom returned, reached around her and opened the door. “Jed, hello. Come in.”

  “Mrs. Cordell. Paige.” With a tip of his Stetson, he offered a soft smile, and the tenderness in his eyes captivated her.

  She pushed her soggy hair out of her face. “Hi.”

  He set an umbrella near the door and then stepped inside. His gaze swept the length of her with a hint of a smile on his lips. “Looks like you got yourself caught in the storm.” He held papers wrapped inside a plastic grocery bag.

  “Something like that.” She swiped at the mascara streaks she knew shadowed her eyes. “Give me a minute?”

  “Of course.”

  As she dashed into the bathroom for a towel, Mom ushered Jed into the living room with an offer of biscuits and sweet tea.

  Paige gripped the sink and stared at her blotchy reflection in the mirror. Jed always seemed to show up at the most inopportune times. First after her grueling two-day drive from Chicago. Then when she’d rushed outside the following Saturday, in her pajamas. Her dumpster-diving endeavor. Now this.

  He probably thought she was a scattered, soggy mess.

  Except, the way he looked at her, whether put together or with unkempt, frizzy hair, said differently. Suggested he loved her.

  Dare she believe that? And even if it were true, was he prepared for what that meant?

  Was he ready to be a dad, to hold tightly not just to her, but to Ava, as well?

  She yanked a towel off the rack, squeezed it around her hair and rubbed the smudges beneath her eyes. She turned on the faucet and gave her face a good wash, causing her sensitive skin to flare bright red. Lovely.

  She hurried to her room to exchange her wet clothing for jeans and a T-shirt. Ava lay curled on her side, sucking her thumb. After a night of fussing, a long nap would do her good.

  Paige softly kissed her cheek. “My precious girl.” She’d do anything in her power to ensure her daughter always looked so happy and content. To keep her free from pain.

  Pulling her hair into a ponytail, she sucked in a deep breath, and joined Mom and Jed in the living room.

  He placed his mug on the end table and stood. “Sorry I didn’t make it over earlier. It’s been one of those days.”

  “No problem.”

  Mom pushed to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me, I better...” She glanced at her computer, then about the room. “I have things to attend to.” She shot Paige a wink before shuffling off to her bedroom.

  Subtle, Mom. What was this, high school? Sometimes, like now, it felt like it. She turned to Jed with what she hoped was a professional smile, ignoring the tingle that swept through her when his deep chocolate eyes snagged hers. After all of these years, he could still initiate an intense reaction within her.

  Did he feel the same?

  Did she want him to?

  “These the old scripts?” She motioned toward a stack of papers on the coffee table.

  He nodded and handed them over. “I brought the one we’re using now, though I have to warn you, it’s pretty bad.” He offered a sheepish smile. “There’s also seven or so we’ve used in the past, which aren’t that much better. Some of these are pretty old. Found them in a filing cabinet in my office when I came on board.”

  She sat, and he did the same with his leg brushing against hers and sending a rush of warmth through her. Clearing her throat, she inched aside to add distance between them and grabbed the first drama on his pile. It was covered in red where someone had crossed things off, circled parts and jotted notes in the margin.

  “That’s what we’re using now.” He leaned closer to read over her shoulder. His breath smelled like peppermint. “It called for too many cast members.”

  “I see.” She turned the page, noting clues highlighted in yellow. “How many clues do you normally have per script?”

  “A dozen, give or take—some intentionally false.”

  “Red herrings?”

  His forehead creased. “What?”

  “Mystery-writing lingo.”

  He grinned. “I figured you’d know your stuff.”

  “A little. Does your cast always have three males and four females?”

  “Thereabouts. More than that, and things get jumbled. ’Course, if you think you can write something with a crew of six or less, even better. We’ve got to cut costs where we can.” His crooked smile stalled her breath.

  Triggering emotions she’d thought she’d long abandoned. Emotions that had the potential to change everything, if she let them.

  * * *

  Jed deposited five grocery bags on his grandmother’s kitchen table.

  “Boy, what have I let you talk me into?” Mirth filled her eyes. “How much cooking were you thinking we’d do?”

  “We need at least five signature dishes with one unique enough to get some press. Maybe a soup and appetizer, too.”

  “By unique you don’t mean something nasty like deep-fried cow hearts, I hope.”

  “Hmm...hadn’t thought of that one, but it’d be unexpected, for sure.”

  “And uneaten.”

  He laughed and pulled some old cookbooks he’d purchased at the used bookstore from one of his bags. “I did find a recipe for pickled cowboy candy, though.” He flipped to the dog-eared page. “I’d want to tweak it some.”

  “Like how? Dip the jalapenos in chocolate?”

  “Not hardly.” He started unloading groceries onto the counter. “Though that might be better than chocolate-covered crickets.”

  She flipped through marked recipes and suggested palatable changes, while Jed took notes. By early afternoon, they’d come up with four possible main dishes and a dessert he title
d Rancher’s Bark. Its dark chocolate base was embedded with toffee chunks, chopped macadamia nuts and bits of bacon, all topped with caramel drizzles.

  Jed decided to tackle cleanup—so he could lick the bowl. He ran the spatula along the chocolate-covered porcelain, careful to pick up as many bacon bits as possible, and then savored its salty sweetness.

  “Don’t know where you put all that.” Grandma surveyed their creations, lined in plastic storage containers on nearly every available surface space. “Hope you’ll take most of this home with you.”

  He placed a hand over his over-full stomach and groaned. “I’ve had enough to last me a week.” He’d tried each dish, eating more of some than others.

  “You know—” she grabbed a paper bag from the pantry “—I wonder if our sweet neighbors would enjoy trying our concoctions.”

  A jolt ran through him, initiating a grin before he could halt it. He quickly covered with a cough. “Sure. I could bring a dish or two over to their house.”

  Grandma’s lips twitched toward a smile. “Paige sure has turned mighty pretty.”

  He stepped toward the counter before Grandma could see the blush taking over his face. “She’s all right.” Beautiful, feisty and stubborn with enough brilliance and creativity to salvage their dying business.

  And steal his heart, if he let her.

  He would, too, if he thought that was what she wanted.

  “Might as well take a few dishes over now.” He grabbed the Texas Hash made with quail and shredded sweet potatoes.

  “You do that.” Her teasing tone made him bristle.

  If only Paige wasn’t dead set on returning to Chicago.

  He paused at Grandma’s door to slip on his Stetson and cowboy boots, and then he made his way over to Mrs. Cordell’s. Funny how his insides felt all jittery, kind of like that first day, many years ago, when he’d asked her out.

  If he had it to do over...

  He rotated his shoulders, stretched his neck from side to side and reached for the doorbell.

  Mrs. Cordell answered before he got a chance to ring. She smelled like a mixture of lavender and something spicy he couldn’t place. “Jed, hello. Please come in.”

  He obliged and glanced about. “Is Paige here?” He clamped his mouth shut, wishing he’d given his brain half a second to catch up with his tongue. “What I mean is...” He thrust his container of food at her. “I brought this over. I’ll probably add it to our menu and figured she—and you—might want a preview taste.”

  She took the hash with the same knowing expression Grandma had given him. “How thoughtful. If you don’t mind waiting... She’s trying to get Ava down to sleep. The munchkin’s been fighting her, the little crab apple. Most likely letting her know just how displeased she was at having her mama gone most of the day.”

  “Oh?”

  “She went to a job fair or some such thing.”

  So Paige was still job hunting. For something in Sage Creek? Did that mean she planned to stay?

  His heart surged at the thought.

  Man, was he in trouble.

  Chapter Twelve

  Paige held Ava tightly in her arms with her chin rested on top of her curly head. She continued rocking, though the child’s steady breathing indicated she’d fallen asleep at least ten minutes ago. These were the moments Paige cherished. And tonight they helped brighten what had otherwise been a discouraging day.

  The career fair had been a waste of time. Of the dozen or so companies she’d encountered, most were looking for secretaries or salespeople. Not that it made any sense for her to go, considering she had no intention of staying in Sage Creek any longer than necessary.

  But she was beginning to get desperate. Her savings were dwindling, and the few articles she’d sold had only earned her half a car payment.

  Her every hope rode on the writers’ conference and finding a steady, well-paying writing gig, if not for a magazine, then maybe for a nonprofit or something. With ten magazines and nearly an equal number of advocacy-related organizations represented, she had to land something.

  This kind of thinking only added to her stress level and did nothing to silence her anxiety.

  And thoughts of Jed Gilbertson.

  Of his smile, the little things he said, the way he looked at her. Looked at Ava.

  And how much he and Mrs. Tappen were counting on her to write a phenomenal script.

  She was still trying to wrap her thoughts around the whole process. Emcee intro, audience participation, at least one cast member hidden among the paying attendees. It felt like a steep learning curve, one that sapped every last drop of her creativity.

  All on a locomotive, if she wrote out Jed’s train-heist premise. He’d said to let him know if she had a better idea, which she didn’t.

  “Sleep well, sweet girl.” Paige tucked Ava beneath the covers, kissed her forehead and started to slip out.

  Voices from the kitchen halted her.

  Jed was here?

  A flutter swept through her gut, and she paused to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the wall mirror. For once, her hair actually looked good, and she’d opted for her regular clothes over bleach-stained yoga pants this morning.

  With a deep breath and a quick fluff to her curls, she exited the room and softly closed the door behind her.

  “Howdy.” Jed stepped out from the kitchen with her mom following close behind.

  “Uh... Hi.” She set her bag on the ground near the wall. “I didn’t hear the door.”

  “I saw him from the window as he was walking up.” Mom smiled. “Caught him before he rang the bell. Didn’t want him making a ruckus while you were putting Ava down.”

  “I appreciate that.” She eyed Jed. “So... What’s up?”

  “I came bearing gifts.” His grin made her feel askew. “The edible kind.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “All right. So, what’d you bring?”

  “Supper.”

  “And it’s good,” Mom said. “Settling to my upset stomach—it’s been giving me fits today. I put a call in to my doctor, left a message on the nurse’s line.” She went on to talk about an article she’d read about hiatal hernias and why she felt certain she had one.

  Paige cleared her throat to divert the conversation. “When’d you turn into a chef?” She couldn’t image Jed voluntarily stepping behind a stove.

  Actually, she could, and she found the image much too endearing.

  “Not sure I’d go that far. I showed up with the ideas, ingredients and a bunch of recipes to serve as inspiration. Then I alternated between following directions and staying out of Grandma’s way while she worked her magic.”

  Sweet old Mrs. Tappen. She could make most anything edible.

  “You two chat while I serve up a couple plates.” Mom returned to the kitchen, leaving Paige alone in the living room with Jed. A predicament that could prove dangerous.

  She’d returned to Sage Creek to regroup, not fall in love.

  “I’ll help.” She followed Mom, and heard Jed’s heavy footfalls close behind. While Mom pulled plates from the cupboard, Paige darted to the fridge.

  “It’s on the top shelf.” Jed pointed. “In the container with the pink lid.”

  She pulled the food out. It didn’t look all that appetizing, but it smelled amazing. “Might want to tweak the presentation some, if you plan to serve it.” Her stomach growled loudly, causing Jed to chuckle and her face to flame.

  “Yeah. Grandma’s going to work on that.”

  Once she’d heated two platefuls, she handed one to him and brought hers to the living room, taking Mom’s seat behind her desk.

  Jed sat on the couch, catty-corner to Mom in her recliner. “Didn’t think I’d be able to eat another bite, after all the tasting I did this afternoon, but man alive...” He shook his head and scooped a
forkful of cheesy goo. “This stuff is good.”

  She inhaled the garlicky bacon scent and dipped her spoon into the mixture. “What’s in this?” She took a bite, then closed her eyes as pure heaven exploded on her tongue. Sweet, salty and creamy with a slight crunch.

  He set his fork on his plate. “Don’t go trying to get me to share Grandma’s secrets. She might start banning me from her kitchen.”

  Paige smiled. “What a shame that’d be.”

  He rubbed his stomach. “That right there could send a man into withdrawal. So, tell me about this career fair. Any leads?”

  She glanced at Mom, who looked so peaceful, almost happy, sitting in her recliner. No sense souring her mood with a reminder of Paige’s eventual departure. “Not really. Not anything I’m qualified for or interested in.”

  “Guess that means you won’t be bailing on Grandma and I anytime soon, then, huh?” Though his words suggested he spoke in jest, the intensity in his eyes caused her breath to stutter.

  “Don’t worry—I have every intention of completing the terms of our contract.”

  “And when that’s over, who knows, right?” Mom gave a nervous laugh, then sobered. “It’s been nice having you here, Paige. Real nice.”

  Mom’s words weighed heavily on her heart. She’d stayed away too long, had been way too detached. Calling her mother on holidays, sending the occasional card. She’d always been in such a rush, so focused on her career, and then surviving her divorce, she’d been so oblivious to Mom’s pain.

  Paige agreed; it was good she was here, at least for now.

  What about Jed? She looked over to find him watching her. Not just observing her, but studying her, as if he were trying to figure her out or something.

  He used to do that a lot, when they were in high school. He’d joked that he wanted to memorize her every freckle.

  She shook the thought aside and focused on finishing her supper while trying to ignore the handsome, attentive man sitting across from her. Though, he was probably more interested in her opinion of his new menu item.