Hometown Series Box Set

by Kirsten Fullmer

  The redhead turned back to stare at Chad through narrowed eyes.

  Marge paused, as if she were thumbing through lists and catalogs of where Chad might have been the last day or two -- deliveries she’d heard about, and people who had mentioned him. Her eyes widened as a few distinct impressions formed in the back of her mind. Finally, she slapped the check on the table with a grin. “Let me know if you need anything else,” she stated.

  Chad nodded, his mouth full, while Gloria pouted.

  Chapter Five

  Julia held up the magazine, her gaze moving from the glossy double-page spread to the empty wall of her kitchen. Becky was right, the hutches would be perfect, and the magazine gave her ideas for all the finishing touches that would make her house feel like a home. Wanting to surround herself with softness and comfort, she was excited to get started. Working on the house had been accepted as— work, and therefore, something she could allow herself to focus on.

  “What do you think, Ringo?” she asked the little dog at her feet. He lifted his brows in question, forcing Julia to bend with a grunt and scoop him into her arms for a hug.

  The day ahead twisted through her mind in a confusing mix of places and people. Padding back to her bedroom, Julia let Ringo down and opened the steamer chest to remove a stack of notebooks. Sorting through the pile, she stopped at a pink one and placed the rest back into the chest.

  Sitting on the chest, she flipped through the pages of the notebook, stopping on the last filled page. Frowning at her uneven scrawled writing, she reviewed her notes on appointments and things she had needed to do the day before. She’d forgotten a few minor items because she hadn’t reviewed the notebook before she went to bed.

  She stood and plodded back to the kitchen, flipping pages and mumbling as she walked. She lifted the pencil from the narrow counter by the sink and tapped it against her lips as she read; then, in hesitating scribbles, she began to make notes for the day.

  Mac, the plumber, would be stopping by that afternoon to discuss moving the sink. She glanced up. The other side of the room was a mess as well, and she needed to decide what to do about a stove so Mac could move the gas line.

  Bending to scratch Ringo around the ears as she thought, she glanced at the glossy magazine on the counter. The back pages were full of replica, turn-of-the-century stoves, their look true to the time period the home was built but for some reason, Julia was partial to the elegant enamel ovens from the’30s. Something about the chrome trim and long delicate curved legs appealed to her.

  The cat wandered from the mud room off the back of the kitchen, where Julia assumed he’d used his new litter box. He ambled languidly past her to the new food and water dish on the far side of the room. He’d made himself at home so she supposed she should give him a name.

  Ringo’s sharp bark made her jump, her hand on her chest. The little dog bounded toward the front door, his rear end sliding as he careened around corners, his barks echoing through the house.

  She laid the notebook on the counter. “Who could that be?” she muttered. She didn’t know anybody but the movers and Becky.

  As she emerged from the hall, Julia could see a tall slim woman through the screen door. She had beautiful, hip-length dark hair that lifted in the breeze. An old woman stood smiling as well, a large leather purse gripped to her chest.

  Crossing the living room, Julia worked to compose herself. Meeting new people was still difficult and stressful. The women smiled through the screen, and Julia relaxed a bit as she pushed open the door. Ringo bolted through the opening and scampered around the women’s feet, leaping with joy.

  The tall woman bent and scooped him into her arms, laughing as the little dog nuzzled her neck. “Well, hello, little guy. Aren’t you the sweetest thing?”

  “Sorry,” Julia apologized, reaching for Ringo.

  The women stepped into the house, and the one holding the squirming dog waved Julia off with a grin. “He’s fine. I’m Tara and this is Winnie; I hope this isn’t a bad time to come by.”

  Julia wrung her hands and forced a smile. “Not at all. Please come in. I don’t have anywhere to sit but around the table, is that okay?”

  Tara nodded, set Ringo on the floor, and followed the old woman into the dining room. Julia pulled out a chair for Winnie, and Tara sat in the one opposite.

  “This table is perfect for this room, isn’t it?” Winnie commented, smoothing her gnarled hand across the scarred top. “Becky told me you’d found some pretty pieces.”

  Concentrating on remaining calm, Julia clasped her hands in her lap. “Yes, she was very helpful.” Then to Tara, “She also told me you remodeled the house with the real estate office; I hope you’re willing to offer advice.”

  “Of course, I will,” Tara smiled, “but we just came by to say hello and introduce ourselves.” She tugged her hair over her shoulder to smooth the tangles left by the breeze. “Sorry it took us a few days, things have been a little crazy.”

  Julia nodded. “Oh, it’s no problem, I was getting settled in. So, you run the real estate office?”

  “Oh, I don’t really,” Tara said, flipping her hair back over her shoulder, then gesturing to the old lady. “Winnie handles things there. I’ve actually been losing my mind opening our bed and breakfast inn, and I just got engaged, so now I’m planning a wedding too.”

  A stab of regret pierced Julia’s heart, but she managed to glance at Winnie with a slight nod to acknowledge her job at the real estate office, then dragged her gaze to Tara’s hand and the glittering diamond. “How exciting. Your ring is gorgeous.” The words were correct but they sounded stilted to Julia’s ears, and she felt guilty for being so selfish.

  Shrugging at the compliment, Tara blushed. “Thanks. We – me and my fiancé Justin, we have that inn just up the road. That’s where the ceremony will be, and it just seems like everything is piling up on me with inn guests -- not to mention we still have construction going on.”

  The thought of a wedding at a bed and breakfast sounded so romantic to Julia. “Where did you say the B&B is?” she managed to ask through her ragged and torn thoughts.

  Tara pointed out the window. “The turnoff is right there, that gravel road, see the sign? Oh, I guess that bush is in the way, anyway, you just turn there and it’s about a quarter of a mile up the road.”

  Julia got up and walked to the window, her back to the visitors, welcoming the chance to regroup. “I need to trim that bush,” she mumbled as she turned back to Tara. “I’d love to see it someday. The inn, I mean.” Immediately she regretted her words, knowing she’d volunteered to meet even more people.

  A warm smile burst across Tara face. “Oh, please, come by any time.”

  Julia returned to the table, feeling awkward and self-conscious.

  “Your roses are beautiful,” Winnie commented, her eyes twinkling. “I’d heard about them from everyone in town, but I had to come see them for myself.”

  Julia blushed, once again overwhelmed that people talked about her. “I can’t take much credit, the old man at the nursery suggested them.”

  Winnie nodded. “Fergus does have a way of connecting people with plants, but not everyone can manage miniature roses, they are delicate and moody. Yours look very contented to be here.”

  Cupping her hand around her mouth as if to tell a secret, Julia whispered, “I bought a book.”

  The women laughed. “Well, you’ve done a wonderful job. I can’t wait to see what you do with the rest of the yard,” Winnie said, her watery eyes dancing around the room, taking in every detail. “I’ve always loved this old house.”

  Julia wanted to ask them if they’d like to see her place and give her suggestions, but she’d have to walk up the stairs. “Would you like to see what I plan to do with the kitchen and give me advice?” she offered instead.

  “We’d love to,” Tara answered. Winnie nodded.

  The women clattered chairs momentarily then wandered into the kitchen, and Julia picked up the disc
arded magazine. “Becky gave me the idea, and you saw the hutches in the living room.” She handed the magazine to Tara, pointing out the picture that had inspired her.

  Glancing from the photo to the sink to the window, Tara smiled and sighed.

  Winnie grasped her hands in front of her purse, her head cocked to one side. “Oh, that will be perfect. Becky has such a feel for design. She really loves the sleek, mid-century stuff, but she can handle any style. When Tara brought in those hutches, Becky’s eyes lit up and she immediately claimed them. You are making her vision a reality, I hope you know.”

  Julia approached the sink. “Becky said this would clean up, but I don’t know where to start.”

  “I have some solvents that will help,” Tara assured. “What are your plans for the floor?”

  All three sets of eyes fell to the dull, stained hardwood. Julia bit her bottom lip. “I want to keep them, refinish them, but I have no idea what to do. Chad, the mover, offered to help, but—”

  Winnie interrupted. “Oh, he’d be perfect for the job. I’ve seen some of his work, and he knows what he’s doing.”

  Tara’s eyes widened at the comment and darted to Winnie, a question in her gaze, but Julia didn’t notice. Her eyes were on Ringo, weaving circles around her ankles.

  Tara tossed Winnie another concerned glance, causing Winnie to purse her lips and give a slight, almost imperceptible shake of her head, indicating not to say anything. With a grin, Tara turned her attention back to Julia, her brow crinkled in question. “Are you worried about the floors?”

  Giving herself a mental shake, Julia flashed an embarrassed smile to the ladies that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “No, I’ll take him up on the offer; I just wanted to hear what Mac had to say about the plumbing first.”

  Winnie smiled but Tara’s lips pursed in concern as she spoke distractedly. “Hmmm, that’s a good idea. Mac will do a good job, but...”

  Finally hearing speculation in the young woman’s reply, Julia glanced at Tara in question.

  Shrugging off Julia’s unease, Tara wandered to the window and glanced from wall to wall. “It’ll be a tight fit for the hutches, won’t it?”

  Relieved to move the conversation away from Chad, Julia joined Tara in the puddle of sun on the worn floor by the sink. “Yes, the sink won’t be quite centered, but I don’t think it will matter much.”

  Winnie agreed. “Definitely not. I can’t wait to see it when you’re finished.”

  “I should ask you about a stove,” Julia flipped through the magazine, stopped at a dog-eared page and handed it over. “What do you think of something like this?” She pointed at the white stove in the photo.

  Winnie looked past Tara’s shoulder to see the magazine and Tara gasped. “Oh, it’s perfect. As a matter of fact, I have one of these. It’s not exactly the same but pretty close. I’m not sure what shape it’s in, but I have a guy I use for appliances. Want me to have him take a look at it?”

  This time the smile glowed in Julia’s eyes. “That would be great! Thank you.”

  Tara shrugged. “No problem. Hey, we gotta run.” She motioned to Winnie and headed down the hall toward the living room. “But, please come out to the B&B. I’ll be there all day tomorrow.”

  As the women wandered through the front room, their footsteps echoing through the nearly empty space, Julia observed her visitors. Tara looked exactly like a best friend would look in a movie -- someone beautiful and confident, open and fun. And Winnie, shuffling along in her sensible gray shoes, her dress freshly ironed, and a lace hankie tucked under her gold stretchy watchband, was the epitome of the grandmother she’d always longed for.

  These were women she could befriend if she chose to, people she could include in her life. And people she would ultimately lose. The question was, would reaching out to them be worth the joy they could bring her, or would she only suffer far worse heartache when they were wrenched away?

  At the front door, Julia hesitated, the thought of meeting more people at the inn the next day settling heavy on her mind. She’d come to Smithville to regroup and heal, away from judgmental prying eyes. She didn’t feel at all ready for all the new experiences being pushed on her. Questions rang through her mind. How many people would be at the bed and breakfast? What would they be like? Would there be stairs?

  She pushed open the creaking screen door and the cat trotted in.

  “Oh my! What a pretty cat,” Winnie gushed.

  Distracted, Julia nodded. “That’s George, he claimed us a few days ago.” The name was perfect, she thought to herself.

  Winnie grinned down at the fluffy, black and white kitty weaving between her feet.

  “I’ll tell you what.” Tara interrupted their conversation, touching Julia’s arm. “You come by the inn around two, and we’ll have some lemonade on the porch and chat. I don’t have a lot of time, but I’d love to see you.”

  Understanding that Tara saw her reluctance and was offering easy options, Julia smiled, relief flowing through her system. “That sounds nice. Lemonade at two.”

  Tara regarded Julia’s face thoughtfully and squeezed her arm, her eyes bright with questions and mystery. “I’m so glad. I’ll see you then.”

  Standing at the open door and watching Winnie and Tara wave as they climbed into their car, Julia sighed. “There is no hiding from the world here after all, is there? Come on, guys.” Ringo trotted inside and she closed the screen. The cat jumped into the window seat and curled up, the little dog ran in a circle then put his paws on her knees, his eyes imploring her for attention. She laughed.

  “Want to go for a walk?” she asked, ruffling his ears. He yipped and jumped. “Okay, let’s go get your leash.” Moments later, they stepped through the front door and Julia

  locked it behind her. The cat had no inclination to follow them on this trip, but Ringo pranced in place eagerly as she stepped carefully off the porch. Finally, Julia crossed the lawn and headed toward town, Ringo strutting beside her with his tail in the air.

  A few months back, the physical therapist had suggested that she get a dog to walk. At first, she had balked at the idea. She’d never been a pet kind of person. They left hair everywhere and needed tending, and her schedule had always been far too busy for the fuss. But learning to walk again after the illness had been tedious, requiring hours of practice, and after exhausting months of walking the hospital halls gripping the handrails, then teetering around the yard of the care center alone, the thought of a companion had sounded better and better.

  She’d found Ringo on adoption day at the pet supply store. He was a nebulous breed, a rescue dog; his legs were too short, and his head was too big, his fur was scruffy, but he was a charmer, and she’d fallen for him immediately.

  Since that day, her walks had been far more pleasurable. Ringo had been patient when she needed to rest and didn’t complain on days she couldn’t go far. His companionship had been priceless, and now that she had her own place, she couldn’t imagine her life without him. He was truly the most patient and least judgmental friend she could have hoped to find.

  Early afternoon sun dappled the sidewalk and birds chirped noisily in the trees. The old homes along the street were well cared for, and Julia realized that her house must have been the eyesore of the neighborhood for some time. Trees all along the walk were filled with blooms -- pink, white, and yellow, open and fragrant. Digging through her few hazy memories, she wondered if she’d ever experienced so much pleasure from spring. It had come each year in the city, obviously, but without trees crowding the streets and lawns and shrubs blooming, it had been easier to miss.

  A few blocks from the house, Ringo’s ears perked up, and he tugged at the leash. “Whoa, boy, what’s got you all excited?” she asked. Glancing ahead, she could see Chad mowing the strip of grass in front of the delivery service.

  He reached the end of the grass, turned the mower to head back for one last pass, and halfway, he spotted Julia and Ringo. Raising a hand, he continued to the en
d of the grass where they stood. When he released the mower handle, the machine sputtered and died, and he wiped his forehead with his shoulder.

  “Hi Julia.” He bent to one knee and ruffled Ringo’s ears. “How are you, buddy?”

  Once again, Julia was touched at the time Chad took to play with Ringo, and she realized his masculine tussles with the dog were very different than her more cuddly approach. Ringo obviously loved it.

  The little dog danced and yipped then distracted, paused to sniff clumps of damp grass as they dropped from the mower. Chad watched the dog, his grin authentic and his manner relaxed. Straightening, he gazed at Julia, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, squinting and blinking up at him into the sun.

  “What can I do for you two today?” he asked.

  She smiled tentatively, winding the leash around her fingers, unsure where to begin. Should she chitchat or get right to the point? Not wanting to give Chad the wrong idea and feeling more than ready to have the meeting behind her, she decided to get right to the point. “I wanted to accept your kind offer to help with the floors.”

  His brows rose. “Okay, when were you thinking of doing them?”

  She shrugged, glancing down the street. “Mac comes this afternoon to work on the plumbing, then I’ll have a better idea.” She turned back to make eye contact. Once again, his friendly, open manner touched her on a deeper level. Used to being around professional healthcare staff, social niceties without professional boundaries felt odd and stressful. If that had been the only draw Chad exuded, she could have managed, but her traitorous body responded to the man on planes way beyond her control. “I—I don’t know anything about floors. What all is involved?”

  Chad rubbed his jaw, his countenance serious as he considered hardwood floors as well as the expressions flittering across her face. “Well, I’d need to take a better look at them to know. Do you want to do all of them or just the kitchen?”