by Cat Johnson
The charm. The history. The quaintness. All I knew was my social media engagement was through the roof and it had started the moment I’d crossed the town line into Mudville and posted a picture of the welcome sign.
I shook my head as I worked my way through the long string of comments on the pictures I’d posted of the old train depot. I liked every one of the comments and came up with some reply to every commenter, even if it was only an emoji. I was running out of steam and words when one comment stopped my thumb.
I’m very interested in this building. Anybody know anything more about it?
Someone had already replied. Not a surprise. The comment was days old. I’d neglected my Instagram for an appallingly long amount of time while I’d been pawing through nearly a century’s worth of Rose’s history and commentary on Mudville and its citizens while trying to not fall behind on my book.
The reply said, I’m the agent handling the real estate listing. I’ll PM you with the details.
The old Mudville train depot was for sale? Stone hadn’t told me that. Had he?
Crap. I’d been so busy lining up shots he might have mentioned it and it just didn’t register. Years of multitasking had done a job on my mental abilities, I swear.
I was about to check out the profile of this potential buyer when the doorbell dragged me away from my Instagram.
Red. It was time to leave for Fall Fest, and since we were already arriving pretty late because she couldn’t get away from the shop any earlier, I didn’t want to delay us further.
I conquered the locks and pulled open the door. “Hey.”
“Hey. Sorry. My girl just showed up. I ran right out of there without even stopping to change.”
I dismissed her apology. “Don’t worry about it. It goes until eight so we didn’t miss it. And you look great. No need to change.”
“I actually grabbed this off a rack this morning. I thought it was cute.”
“Adorable,” I agreed, checking out her red and black buffalo plaid shirt-dress that she’d paired with black high-top Converse.
“So, you ready?” she asked. “I’ll drive. My truck’s in your driveway.”
“Great. Thanks. And, yup. I’m all ready.” I turned and grabbed my purse off the table in the front hall and shoved my cell inside.
Proud I’d finally begun to master the damn doors in this house, even if it had taken two weeks, I hit the little button so it would lock behind me.
“Bethany’s already there,” she said, leading the way down the front stairs and around the big Hydrangea bush to the driveway. “She has a booth set up selling fresh hot donuts.”
“Ooo. Okay.” With visions of donuts in my mind, I followed Red to her little red vintage pick-up truck.
The 1950s Ford made me feel like I was stepping into a Norman Rockwell print when I climbed up into it. But it fit Red perfectly. In fact, it fit Mudville perfectly too.
We were at Morgan Farm in just a few minutes. It was only a couple of miles away, which was good because though I’d never say it, I always wondered if Red’s truck was just going to quit working one day. It was adorable but it was also seventy years old.
“Wow. This is a huge crowd,” Red commented, slowing as the guy directing traffic held up one hand to stop us in the street.
“Is it?” I asked, having nothing to compare it to.
“Oh yeah. I don’t think anybody was expecting this many people. It also explains why my business was dead today. Everyone was here instead of shopping on Main Street.”
I turned my gaze to the parking area the guy had waved us into and realized one whole corn field had been cut and was now filled with visitors’ vehicles. It was a lot of cars and trucks. And for every one, there could be who knew how many passengers.
“Wow, it is a big crowd,” I agreed.
It might have been bad for Red, but this had to be good for Stone’s family and their business. But it also probably meant he’d been insanely busy all day dealing with all these people, so maybe it wasn’t so bad we were arriving late.
That was, of course, assuming he’d even noticed I wasn’t here yet since we were fuck buddies and not in a relationship or anything.
It wasn’t fair to assume anything just because Bethany and Red said he hadn’t ever had a serious long-term relationship.
But on the other hand, we hadn’t talked for four whole days this week before he finally called me. If that wasn’t proof we weren’t serious, I didn’t know what was.
I pushed that thought aside. Tonight I had my Mudville girl gang with me and we were going to have fun, with or without Stone.
Red cut the ignition and glanced at me. “Ready?”
“Ready,” I said.
“Good. Let’s hit the hard cider booth first. I could use a drink.”
I lifted a brow. “Just don’t get too drunk. I can’t drive stick shift and I really don’t think you want me trying to learn on your antique truck.”
Red laughed. “No worries. Even if I did get drunk, which I won’t, somebody would drive us home.”
I knew she was right. That was the beauty of a small town. People were there to help one another. They’d gossip about you the next day, of course, but they’d be there for you nonetheless.
Red and I picked our way over the remains of the shorn corn stalks, led by the lights and the music. It didn’t take long before I really started to get into the mood for this Fall Fest.
I didn’t know what it was. The Jack-O-Lantern pyramid that loomed bright against the horizon. Or the hard cider that Red shoved in my hand. Or the bag of piping hot cinnamon and sugar, apple cider donuts Bethany thrust at me.
Whatever it was, all my cares fled within half an hour of walking onto that property. Soon I found myself swaying along with the band and watching the dancers.
“Hey, you two.”
I spun at the familiar masculine voice, raised to be heard over the sound of the band. But the Morgan brother I saw was not the one I’d been hoping to see.
“Hey, Cash.” Red smiled.
“Hi, Cash,” I said.
Before I stopped myself, I’d looked past Cash to see if his big brother was behind him.
He wasn’t.
“Stone’s stuck running the pony rides,” Cash answered my unspoken question.
Damn. Cash was too perceptive. Or he took as much joy in sharing that news as I did hearing it.
“Pony rides?” I didn’t want to look as excited as I felt by that news, but I couldn’t help it. I felt my eyes widen as I turned to Red. “I so need to get a picture of that.”
She laughed. “Oh, heck yeah, you do. I can imagine he’s thrilled with that duty.”
Cash waved a hand. “Wouldn’t matter what he was doing. He’s been pissy all day. Actually for a couple of days now.”
“Why?” I asked.
Because I was late? Because I hadn’t seen him for a few days? No. I was thinking crazy. Why would he be upset we hadn’t been hanging out?
Besides, he knew where I was. If he really wanted to, he could have stopped by. Or called more than that once last night. But of course, he had been busy all week.
We weren’t dating, I reminded myself. He didn’t do long term relationships. We were fuck buddies.
But just maybe . . .
“His panties are in a twist over the train depot being sold,” Cash said, blowing all my many self-centered theories about the cause of Stone’s bad mood out of the water.
My eyes widened further when I realized the significance of what Cash had said.
The train depot. The building I’d posted on Instagram. I remembered the real estate deal that had begun right there in the comments on my post.
“It sold?” Red asked.
“Yup. They announced it at the zoning board meeting.”
“Crap.” She sighed.
“I know. Most likely they’re gonna tear it down. Put up some piece of shit.”
“Yup.” Red shook her head. “I wish I’d had t
he money to buy it.”
“Yeah, Stone’s beating himself up about not talking Mom and Dad into buying it and setting it up as an extension of the farm stand in town. But too late now. The real estate agent already sent them the contract.”
I should keep my mouth shut.
One day maybe I’d do what I should.
Today was not that day. “It was me,” I blurted out.
“What was?” Red asked.
“I posted pictures of the train depot on my Instagram. Somebody commented asking for more information and the real estate agency replied. That’s why it sold. It’s my fault.” I shook my head, devastated. “I never even thought—”
Red waved away my concern. “You can’t blame yourself for that. You’re always posting pictures. Heck, you even do it in my store and I love it. Best publicity I can get.”
I glanced at Cash. He wasn’t talking. Wasn’t agreeing with Red that it wasn’t my fault, because he obviously thought it was. Or if not, he knew that Stone would think so.
And I guess I couldn’t blame him. I knew how Stone felt about interlopers. Outsiders, city folk, invading his town. And here I’d gone and advertised Mudville to the world. To all of my many, many, hard won followers.
“Hey. Did you just get here? I’ve been trapped in the kiddy zone with the pony.” Suddenly, Stone was there right next to me, touching my shoulder briefly before he let his hand drop.
I would have been happy to see him before I realized what I’d done. I was the exact thing he’d accused me of being when I’d first arrived in town. An outsider. An interloper. A city girl who didn’t understand the way of life here. And my actions had ruined something he loved. Taken away a piece of Mudville they’d never get back.
“Um, we’ve been here a bit,” I said, my gaze cutting to Cash for a second.
There was no way Cash wouldn’t tell Stone it was me. My Instagram, my stupid social media addiction, that destroyed the building Stone loved.
After Stone found that out, we probably wouldn’t even be fuck buddies anymore
I shot Red a help me please glance as the conversation ground to a complete and awkward stop. Thank God she got the meaning of my wide-eyed stare.
“So, uh, the band’s pretty good,” she said.
“Yeah,” I agreed, jumping onto a topic that seemed safe.
Stone’s gaze swept the dance floor as the band played a slow song, then his brows drew low. “Hmm.”
“Hmm, what?” Cash asked.
“Just looking at the pairings out there on the dance floor.”
Red followed Stone’s gaze and frowned too. “Yeah. You’re right.”
I glanced between them, confused. “What are we talking about?”
“Looks like love is in the air. Even for the old farts in town,” Red explained.
“Yeah, and I think I might know why.” Stone looked at me. “Remember I told you some unexpected people were taking books out of your little box?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Guess who’s out there dancing.” He grinned
My eyes widened. “Really?”
He nodded. “Alice, Buck. Mary, Jeb. Looks like all they needed was a little love inspiration.”
Wow. This was proof. The people in Mudville really weren’t taking my books to burn them. They were reading them.
“Heck, if I knew a few romance novels would make all the crotchety old ladies in town nice I would have started handing them out for free in my store years ago,” Red said.
“Not just the women. I got a shot on the game cam I set up of Buck taking a book too,” Stone said.
“No!” Red’s eyes widened.
Cash chuckled. “Crazy old coot.”
“Hey, I read one of Harper’s books. It was real good. You should read it.” Stone shot me a smile.
For Stone to admit that, to his brother whose main goal in life was to tease him, was huge.
My heart clenched. I loved how Stone championed me at every turn, starting right from the day he built the library for me. In fact, I could fall for this man, if I’d let myself.
He was a good guy. No matter what his history with women said, even if he didn’t have a serious long term girlfriend in his past.
I’d be willing to take a chance on him. I’d be willing to deal with any real or fictional commitment issues he had if I was going to be around here forever. Which I wasn’t. And if he didn’t resent me over the depot, which he might.
Tonight had been a series of highs and lows. A roller coaster of emotions and revelation. All it did was make me more confused than ever about what was, what could be.
What did the future hold? I certainly didn’t know.
“Oh my God.”
I spun at Red’s gasped comment. “What?”
“Agnes,” Stone said.
“What about her?” I frowned, glancing around at anyone who’d be willing to answer me.
“Harper? Oh my God, I haven’t see you since you were three.”
I was enveloped in the embrace of a surprisingly strong older woman who smelled of Chanel No. 5 and balanced on a walking cast and a cane. I had my answer without Red having to tell me.
Shocked, I managed to say, “Aunt Agnes. You’re back.”
I had my answer about the future too. Whether Stone would have forgiven me or not, whether he was boyfriend material or not, I’d never know. I wasn’t going to get the chance to find out.
My time in Mudville had come to an end.
From the Journal of Rose Van de Berg
MUDVILLE INQUISITOR
1994
The old Bishop Hotel, site of the triple homicide in 1980, was demolished by a controlled fire yesterday.
THIRTY-ONE
Stone
“I can’t believe you.”
I turned away from the chain saw blade I’d been sharpening to glare at Cash. “What did I do now?”
“You’re really not going over there to convince Harper to stay?” Cash asked.
I scowled at the sore spot that had been irking me for two days, ever since Agnes had returned.
“If she wanted to stay, she’d stay. Agnes is a single old woman living alone in a house big enough for ten people. Half the time she brings Petunia inside with her for company. If she wanted to, Harper could live there with Agnes and the two of them would barely even see each other.”
“Stone, having room isn’t the problem. She’s got no reason to stay. Unless you go over there and give her a reason.”
I shook my head. The day I started taking advice on women from Cash would never come. It certainly wasn’t here today.
“She’s got a life back in the city with her publisher and all her fancy author friends. Besides, her parents are there. She doesn’t want to stay here.”
“Did she say that?” he asked.
Annoyed, I scowled. “She didn’t have to, Cash. I’m not delusional. This was a vacation for her. A retreat. Time away from reality and that shit can’t last forever. Eventually everybody has to get back to real life.”
Even me.
“Just stop by Agnes’s—”
“How about you just mind your own business?” I asked.
Cash’s brows rose high. “I could, but she’s leaving today.”
I spun to glare at him. “How do you know that?”
I hated that Cash knew more about Harper than I did. As much as I hated he might be right and she could be gone by tomorrow.
“Red told me.”
Seeing a chance to let Cash know how it felt to have someone prying into his personal life, I said, “You sure talk to Red a lot.”
“Don’t change the subject. You’re gonna be sorry if she leaves and you didn’t even say goodbye.”
“Phone works both ways. She has my number.” I couldn’t help but remember the first time she’d used it to text about the chickens.
The text that had me breaking the speed limit to get over there to her. That was the night that I’d spent in her bed.
Fuck.
I stopped what I was doing. How was I supposed to work with Cash bothering me? I wouldn’t even be thinking about Harper if it weren’t for him.
The word liar echoed in my head. But that didn’t change anything.
Harper was leaving. Whether I said goodbye or not, she was going back to her real home. Her real life. And I’d have to live with that. Get over her and get on with living.
But maybe a little closure wouldn’t hurt. It might help me put her behind me and get back to my own life.
I spun toward where my truck was parked.
“Where are you going, bro?” Cash asked.
I raised my middle finger to him as I walked away and heard him laughing behind me. I hated when Cash thought he was right.
Things were back to normal at Agnes’s. Or at least normal for Agnes. When I knocked on the back door it was Petunia who greeted me, her nails clacking against the kitchen floor.
They say cats had nine lives but that pig had sure lucked out when she escaped from the stock auction. She would have been bacon if Agnes hadn’t found her running down Main Street and refused to give her back. Now Petunia lived a life of luxury.
My sight of the pig in the kitchen was followed shortly by her mistress, Agnes.
“Agnes. Sorry I made you get up. How’s the leg?” I asked as she opened the door for me.
“Better. And it helps to move so don’t apologize.” She gave me that sly knowing look that only Agnes could give. “I guess you’re here to say goodbye to Harper.”
“Um, yeah.” I’d considered denying it but really, why bother?
First there was no other reason for me to be knocking on Agnes’s door. I’d already seen her at the Fall Fest and welcomed her home. And it was only neighborly to say goodbye to Harper since we had gotten to be friendly while she was here.
Friendly. Pfft. That was an understatement.
I heard footsteps on the back stairs and my gaze flew to the door as it swung open.
“Stone.”
“Harper.” My focus dropped to the journals in her hands. “Taking a little light reading material with you?”
I joked but there was nothing funny about the growing pit in my stomach at the evidence she was leaving.