The bathroom door squeaked in defiance as he pushed it open. Leaning over the dingy sink, he loaded toothpaste onto his toothbrush and glanced up. The mottled bathroom mirror reflected a man in torment. In public, he wore the face of a confident, happy man. But here, alone in the glaring white light of the lone bulb over the bathroom sink, he saw a reflection of what he truly was.
With his hands planted on either side of the sink, head hanging, toothbrush forgotten, Chad brooded over the evening with Julia. He could still feel her curled against his chest. She had trembled with what, fear? Longing? Whatever it had been, he hadn’t been able to pinpoint what was happening, or what she needed. He was way out of his element with her, and his pride stung from the rejection. For some unfathomable reason, he cared about this woman, and her refusal to open up to him made him furious.
Meeting his own bloodshot gaze in the mirror, he knew why Julia made him crazy. She was just like him. She wanted no part of a real relationship, nothing that involved heart and soul anyway. Well, karma was a bitch, and this was his just reward for how he’d treated everyone in his life lately.
Angrily, he stomped back to the sofa. White moonlight streamed in the one window and across the end of his makeshift bed. His eyes darted around the apartment, and he knew that his situation, his entire life, was devoid of anything substantial. And he’d created it that way on purpose.
Yanking open the buttons of his jeans, he dropped to sit on the bed, then angrily kicked his feet free, and watched the jeans slide down the wall into a heap on the floor. The remote on the end table offered a distraction, so he snatched it up to slump in the dim, blue and gray, flickering light, surfing blindly through channels of sitcoms and infomercials.
Why now? Why did he have to choose the one woman within fifty miles who didn’t want him? And one who evidently made him face his demons?
He clicked off the TV and flopped back onto the thin, lumpy mattress, the center support bar rigid against his spine. Tossing onto his side, he tugged at the crumpled sheet and scowled into the dark room, knowing he was screwed, and not in a good way.
* * *
Julia opened the alarm on her cell phone and set it for the next morning, then placed it on the nightstand, and flopped back in her bed to stare at the coffered ceiling of the den. George curled snugly on the corner of her quilt, his delicate feet tucked neatly under him, and light snoring noises came from Ringo’s miniature bed. Moonbeams splashed across the floor, scratched and broken by tree branches, softly lighting the room.
The old house creaked and spoke around Julia, reliving lives past. She wondered what Chad was thinking or if he was asleep.
Huffing with irritation, she flopped onto her side and tugged the quilt up over her shoulder. She’d spent months wondering where Brad was, what he was thinking, and it had done nothing but bring her more wretchedness. Her husband had walked away when she was sick, helpless, and vulnerable, and never again would she open herself to such pain. Once Brad had been told that her recovery would be painfully slow and that she may never be able to return to work or even talk again, he couldn’t pack his bags fast enough. She’d learned her lessons about love the hard way.
Her future was unstable enough without inviting in the opportunity for more pain. She had a little dog who would never leave her, a fluffy cat of questionable origins, and a wonderful old house, and she would manage. She was finding her own way, and that was far more than some had in life.
Pressing her face to the pillow to hold back tears, she breathed in the smell of the line-dried pillowcase. She was fairly certain she’d never hung clothes outside until she tried the line in the back yard. Even though her sheets and towels had been surprisingly stiff, they felt fresh, renewed by nature.
Coming to Smithville had been a good choice. She had purposeful things to do here. Not like her old life, which had been filled with clients, appointments, shopping, and entertainment, but she could be someone else here. She wasn’t sure who she would become; she only knew she couldn’t go back. Losing everything and everyone she loved, losing herself, had not been her choice, but she would survive. At least for now.
* * *
A warm spring breeze lifted the flap of the bandana holding Julia’s curls as she spread musty-smelling mulch in the flowerbed with her gloved hands. Leaning back on her heels, she surveyed the arrangement. The bush had been trimmed back so the sign for Tara’s bed and breakfast could be seen from the road, and multi-colored flowers now bloomed all along the base of the shrub, trailing out in mellow curves to frame the corner of Julia’s yard. Daylilies and snapdragons bloomed in shades of purple along the base of the bush, with vivid orange poppies intermingled, and shorter blooms, including golden mums and deep-blue pansies blossomed along the front.
Before she’d come to Smithville, Julia hadn’t tried her hand at gardening and much to her surprise, the smell and feel of fresh-turned soil felt elementally a part of her. There must have been a farmer somewhere in her line of ancestors, who had passed along a green thumb.
She’d pored over her gardening books and spent hours looking up plants and their needs on her laptop, making detailed notes. She was still a little shocked when she’d stood in front of the selection of plants at the nursery that morning, and instead of feeling overwhelmed, ideas for grouping of blooms had poured through her mind -- as if the plants themselves spoke to her.
Old Fergus had fussed and clucked over her selections, offering input and advice as well as raving about her choices. He was the sweetest old man, and Julia had felt an affinity and closeness to him. It was not something she had planned to do or even felt comfortable with, but his passion for flowers and the way the old man tottered between plant stands, clutched at her heart. She understood forcing an unwilling body to take you where you needed to go, no matter the pain and time involved.
Ringo tore around the corner of the house, George at his heels, bringing Julia’s thoughts back to the present. The little dog pivoted in a tight circle, coming up behind the cat, who jumped in midair and landed gracefully nearby to roll onto his back and take a playful swipe at Ringo.
Julia straightened, her hands on her knees for support, and she smiled at her animal family. Those two never stopped playing for long, and she offered up a silent thanks for whoever had sent the cat to them. Her head tilted to one side as she noted that George had a glow to his coat. He was gaining weight and was truly a fat and sassy kitty now.
The front screen screeched open and Mac stuck his head out. “Hey, Julia, come check this out.”
She patted the ground around her, searching for her digging tools then counted them carefully, knowing she had three and not wanting to lose one. She turned toward the porch, calling Ringo over her shoulder as she followed the older man.
She paused, smiling up into the sun as she neared the house. Steve had pulled down the rusted and broken metal awning over the porch, as well as replaced the glass in her front doors.
Ringo trotted underfoot as Julia entered the living room. She lingered at the front door, holding the screen open for the cat as she touched the new, etched, white-crystal glass panels in the door, then glanced behind her. But George had chosen to curl up on a porch chair.
Julia headed for the kitchen, tugging off her gardening gloves and smoothing one hand over her bandana. Mac had moved the sink this morning, and Steve was in the kitchen now, patching the wall. This would be her first glimpse of the sink under the window.
Mac gestured toward the sink and shoved tools into his toolbox. “Wha-do-ya think?” Steve squatted back on his heels to watch, rubbing his hands across the ample stomach of his dirty blue overalls.
With her eyes glowing, Julia circled the sink, one hand caressing the porcelain as if it were a baby. “Oh, it’s perfect, isn’t it?” she asked, looking to the men for their agreement.
Both agreed.
“Will we be able to move in the hutches today?” she asked, her excitement contagious.
Steve stood and
crossed the room. “Well, the outlets are wired but you’ll want to redo the floor first.”
With her hand on her bandana, Julia nodded. “Right, right, Chad is coming over tonight to get started. I’m just so ready to have a kitchen again.”
A look passed between the men and Julia lifted a brow. “What?”
“Chad said he’d help you?” Steve asked.
“Yeah, why?”
Neither man would meet her eye as they returned to their previous tasks.
Slightly crestfallen and unsure what she was missing, Julia stared at the sink.
Mac’s red toolbox banged closed, and he hefted it to stand next to her. He stroked one hand down the length of his drooping, gray-streaked mustache and harrumphed. “This will look just the way you want it to, Julia, don’t you worry for a minute. Chad knows what he’s doing, and Becky has you covered.”
Biting the inside of her cheek, she considered him through narrowed eyes. Had Chad said something to them about her?
Mac turned to go, and Steve followed with his arms full of leftover wiring and tools. Julia followed them to the front door and held open the screen. “Thanks guys, get me a bill and I’ll write you a check.”
“Will do,” Steve called over his shoulder, nodding his head in farewell as the men reached their trucks. Once again, she wondered if somehow, someone knew that she was battling feelings for Chad, and it was news all across town. She shuddered. There was nothing she could do about it, so she shrugged it off and closed her newly finished front doors.
Returning to the kitchen, Julia cocked one hip against the doorjamb and imagined the kitchen completed, with glowing floors and the walls lined with shelves of dishes. Humming distractedly, she turned to go to her room and collect clothes for a shower.
* * *
At two p.m. sharp, Julia rounded the last curve in the long driveway of Tara’s B&B and pulled to a stop in the shade of a tree. Afternoon sunbeams played across the roof of the long front porch, puffy white clouds floated in the deep blue sky, and a breeze ruffled the baby leaves of the willow tree between the house and the barn. Tara waved through the screen door as Julia slowly climbed the steps to the porch.
“I’m so glad you came to visit,” Tara said as she gave Julia a brief hug at the top step.
Shocked by the effusive greeting, as if she were a long-time friend, Julia stood immobile.
“Come and sit down, I’ll go get the lemonade.”
Finding her feet, Julia moved toward the wicker patio chairs with blue and white striped cushions. While she waited for Tara to return, the breeze whispered across the porch, carrying the scent of spring flowers and ruffling the sheer curtains at each column.
Tara returned, carrying a tray of glasses and a pitcher clinking with ice cubes and lemonade. She perched on the edge of a chair to pour them each a glass, then settled back into the cushions and tucked her feet under her. “So, tell me about your house and your beautiful yard,” she said, her eyes bright.
A warm glow sparked in Julia’s chest, not only from the open offer of friendship but from the compliment. “Well, I trimmed that bush by your sign and planted flowers around it this morning.”
Tara reached out and laid cool fingers on Julia’s arm. “I know, I heard they are absolutely amazing.”
Julia’s eyes widened but she laughed. “You’d think I’d be used to how fast news travels around here.”
“Oh, that’s nothing,” Tara assured her, catching a drop of condensation that slipped down her glass. “I also heard you have a crazy cat that likes to ride in your truck.” She looked up, her eyes sparkling.
Almost spitting lemonade across the porch, Julia choked and coughed as she set her glass on the side table to wipe at her chin. “Seriously?” She shook her head. “I’m the crazy cat lady?”
Tara waved her off and sipped from her glass, then laughed. “No, the cat is crazy, not you.”
“I suppose that’s a little better—”
“So, how is your kitchen coming along?” Tara asked.
Julia’s eyes lit up. “Mac moved the sink this morning, and Steve wired the outlets. Chad is coming tonight to start on the floors.”
“What are you going to do with the floors and how many are you doing?”
Julia shrugged. “We are just doing the kitchen for now, until I see what all is involved and how they look. I want something rustic— like they’ve never been ruined or refinished.”
Tara sipped from her glass, deep in thought. Finally, she answered. “It can be tricky to work on something for hours and leave it looking as if you didn’t touch it. That’s one of my favorite parts of the whole shabby movement. Do you do furniture?”
Retrieving her glass from the side table, Julia shook her head. “I’ve never tried, wouldn’t really know where to start. It sounds complicated.”
“Nah,” Tara assured, “It’s not hard. I’ll invite you to the warehouse one of these days, and you can pick out a piece to redo. I’ll help you get started.”
“Really?” Julia asked, her eyes wide. “I have no skills with tools.”
“I have a hunch you’re a quick learner.”
Julia frowned into her glass. She had been quick to pick up just about anything she tried until the last year. She hated the well-earned doubts that now lived under her skin.
Picking up on Julia’s discomfort, Tara changed the subject. “So, Chad is going to help you with the floors. What do you think of him?” she asked, studying Julia from the corner of her eye.
Caught off guard, Julia glanced up, her face draining of color. Had the whole town been talking about her? “What do you mean?”
Tara shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know, do you think he’s handsome?” she questioned cautiously.
Julia scoffed. “Is there a woman who doesn’t?”
A giggle slipped from Tara’s lips and she glanced from one side to the other. “I’m not supposed to notice,” she whispered.
Julia chuckled. “Since you brought him up, I don’t really know him. What’s he like?”
Jiggling her glass to watch the ice cube swirl, Tara paused to think, then glanced up. “He’s—he’s a good guy. He was always great looking, even as a kid, but he always seemed oblivious to it and acted like a normal kid.” Her brow knit as she continued. “He came back from Philly almost two years ago.”
“What did he do there?” Julia asked, sensing a story in the comment.
Tara hesitated. “College, then he managed a United Package Service hub.”
Julia’s eyebrows went up. “Sounds exciting. He didn’t like that? Why did he come back?”
Shifting in her seat, Tara stared into her drink. “He and William, Bobby’s big brother, they both worked there. Chad was William’s boss.”
“Where is William now?”
Tara gazed across the yard for a long moment, her eyes sad. “He died in a traffic accident.” She glanced back to Julia, paused, then continued. “Chad, he was so upset he— he came back,” she finished lamely.
In shock, Julia sat staring blankly. “Poor Bobby.”
Tara took a long drink of lemonade then continued. “Yeah. Anyway, Chad was always a nice kid.” She stared off into the yard for a moment before she continued. “I was awkward, and he never made fun of me like the other kids did.”
Her mouth opened in surprise as Julia shifted gears and gaped. “How could you have been awkward? You are gorgeous.”
Tara shifted in her chair to stretch one long tan leg in front of her. “No, seriously, they called me hedgehog. We were poor and I was painfully withdrawn.”
“We? Your family?”
“Winnie is my family,” Tara answered solemnly, her foot dropping. “But the whole town watched out for us.”
Julia nodded, sensing there was much more to the story of this town and its people but not wanting to dig for info.
Silence settled over the porch as the women sipped lemonade and settled into the easy camaraderie flowing between them.
&nbs
p; Julia spoke first. “I really am excited about my kitchen but I’m not sure I can make it look the way I envision it in my head.”
“I love renovating,” Tara said dreamily. “It’s so exciting to have a vision and make it happen. You’ll do great, don’t worry.”
“Did you rehab this house?” Julia asked, her hand motioning over her shoulder.
Tara nodded. “Yeah, the house and the barn. Justin is building a spa now. You can’t see it from here, but it’s around the corner of the house.” She pointed past the willow tree.
“Wow, a spa?”
Shrugging, Tara laughed. “It was already in the plans for this place before we bought it.”
Julia drank from for her glass, savoring the sweet smell of lemons. Her forehead wrinkled. “I don’t understand, I thought you rehabbed the house.”
Waving one hand as she drank, Tara finished her glass and set it on the tray with a snort. “Oh, girl, that is a long, long story.”
Her interest piqued, Julia leaned back in her chair. “Give me a teaser then.”
Tara looked off in space for a moment, a smile on her lips. “Let’s just say this was a crazy project, and Justin wasn’t my favorite person when he came to town.”
Julia’s brows rose again. “Your fiancé? Why? I don’t understand.”
“Well, I was a mess for one thing, but he was—such a city boy. Drove me nuts.”
“I’m a city girl, is that a problem?” Julia asked hesitantly.
Tara laughed. “Justin and I were competing to build this place and I couldn’t stand him. I don’t think you need to worry.”
Confused, Julia lowered her glass. “Sounds complicated. How long has it been a B&B?”
Tara counted on her fingers then glanced up. “Three months. We pretty much only fill up on the weekends so far. We have a few weddings coming up in the summer, including ours, which is in... six weeks, holy cow. I’m never going to be ready.”
Hometown Series Box Set Page 35