by Kathy Ivan
Looked like things might be looking up in Shiloh Springs, and he couldn’t wait.
CHAPTER TWO
Walking back into the main living room, Tessa felt heat flood her cheeks. She knew her face was likely beet red. Embarrassment tended to do that. The realtor hadn’t even blinked when she’d made a mad dash past her with a muffled “excuse me” on her wild rush to the bathroom. Nice way to make a first impression.
They’d toured the whole cottage, viewed the two bedrooms, bathroom, and kitchen—and she loved everything about it.
“I really do want the place.”
“I knew the moment we talked it would be perfect for you.” Digging in her briefcase, Serena pulled out a sheaf of papers. With a flick of her wrist, she handed them to Tessa. “Here’s the inventory sheet. It’s best to get it filled out quickly, so Old Man Johnson doesn’t have a conniption fit, and blame you for something you didn’t do.” Her grin was infectious, and Tessa found herself responding easily.
“I’ve got the first and last month’s rent. Brought a money order, since I figured it might be easier until I can open a checking account locally. Sometimes out-of-state checks take a while, and I didn’t want there to be any hang-ups.” Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the folded paper and handed it over. “You did get the deposit I wired, right?”
“Sure did. I’m so happy you decided to rent this cottage. I think it’ll work great. The elementary school isn’t far, so getting around shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I’m excited to get to know the students. I know I’m getting a late start for the upcoming year, with school beginning in a couple of weeks.”
“Trust me, the school board was thrilled to get your application. They’ve been searching for a qualified replacement for Mrs. Edwards ever since she broke her hip and decided it was past time for her to retire. You’re going to love it here.”
Tessa ran her hand along the fireplace mantel, feeling the smooth texture of the polished wood against her fingers, and a little shiver ran up her spine. While the outside of the place might look worn down and neglected, the inside appeared perfectly charming. A fine coating of dust covered the floors, but would be easily remedied with a thorough cleaning.
Though the place wasn’t huge, it was certainly big enough for one person, and she loved the hardwood floors and all of the character the older house brought. Plus having a second bedroom was an added bonus, allowing her to set up a separate office. “Can I ask you something?”
Serena cocked her head, a quizzical expression on her face. “Sure, ask me anything.”
“Who was that guy? The one threatening to toss me in jail.”
Serena laughed. “Rafe Boudreau. He’s the sheriff. The Boudreaus are the nicest people in the world. Everyone loves them.”
Tessa turned the information over in her head. Her heartbeat sped up when she thought about the tall, dark-eyed stranger. There had been—something—different about him. She couldn’t put her finger on it, because she’d never felt anything like this instant connection before.
“Boudreau, huh? I’ll have to remember the name.”
Serena laughed harder, until tears shone in her eyes. “Take it from me. You’ll get to know the Boudreaus intimately.”
“Intimately?”
“I mean that in the nicest way. The Boudreaus are one of the oldest families in Shiloh Springs. They’ve been here for generations.”
“Kind of like founding fathers of the community?”
“Exactly. They’re not snooty like the Calloways. You won’t meet kinder or more generous people. Another of the things you’ll come to find out about living in Shiloh Springs. If you ever need anything, you ask Douglas or Ms. Patti. Heck, ask any of the Boudreaus and they’ll give you the shirt off their backs.” Serena gave her a conspiratorial wink. “And there are a lot of Boudreaus—most of them good-looking, single men.”
Tessa barely refrained from rolling her eyes, watching Serena fan her face with one hand. “I’m not in the market for a guy, good-looking or otherwise. Since I’ll only be here for one year, I plan to focus on the school year and learning new things about Texas.”
“Your loss. If you change your mind, I’ll be more than happy to introduce you to some of the eligible men here.” Grabbing her briefcase, she headed for the front door. “Welcome to Shiloh Springs, Tessa. I have the feeling you’re going to fit in here just fine.”
With a quick wave, she left, and Tessa glanced around the living room. “I hope you’re right, Serena, because for the next year, Shiloh Springs is my new home.”
Early the next morning, Tessa stared at the meager pile of dishes she’d carefully stacked into the overhead cupboard. The small pile looked woefully inadequate in comparison to the vast emptiness on either side. Though the kitchen wasn’t enormous, there were a lot of cabinets to fill.
Cutting open the next cardboard box to get out more stuff, she paused at the sound of the doorbell.
Great, company on my first day.
Brushing her hands on her jeans, she walked through the kitchen to the front door. A petite, older blonde woman stood on the porch. Definitely several inches shorter than her own five foot five, she looked like a stiff wind would blow her right off the porch, but the warmth of her smile instantly put Tessa at ease.
“Hello. You must be Tessa Maxwell. I’m Patricia Boudreau, and I wanted to welcome you to Shiloh Springs.” Holding up a basket covered with a blue and white checkerboard-patterned cloth, the scent of freshly baked muffins tickled her nose. Tessa realized she’d been so caught up unloading the trailer, she hadn’t stopped long enough to eat the night before, and her stomach chose that moment to rumble—loudly.
“Um, thank you. Please, come in.”
Handing the basket to her, the other woman remarked, “Hope you like blueberry. I made a batch this morning for my oldest, and thought I’d drop by and say hi before I head over to his place.” She leaned in, whispering, “He’s probably still in bed.”
A bit flustered, Tessa smiled. “I love blueberry.”
Tessa skirted around the massive piece of furniture against the wall in the entryway. Standing over six feet tall and probably about as wide, it seemed like a combination coat rack, storage unit, antique mirror, and probably had a couple other functions she hadn’t discovered yet. Near as she could figure, it looked like somebody cobbled together several pieces into one catch-all. One of her friends back in North Carolina loved going to garage sales and flea markets, and putting together what she lovingly called Franken-furniture. This piece definitely fit the description. It was huge—and hideous.
She was grateful the place came with basic furniture, which meant she hadn’t had to rent a full-sized moving truck, even if most of what came with the house wasn’t exactly what she’d pick for herself. She led her guest across the entryway and into the kitchen.
“Sorry about the boxes. It was a long trip, and I kinda crashed once I got them unloaded last night.” Moving aside a couple of the boxes, she made room at the cozy round table in the corner, flanked with windows on each side. Sunshine spilled through, highlighting the old wooden floors, the warm golden-brown patina showing signs of a few scratches, yet still giving the space a homey, comfortable, lived-in feeling. The kind of things that made a house feel like a home.
Patti Boudreau eased onto one of the chairs with the bearing of somebody comfortable in any situation, and hooked the straps of an oversized bag over the back of the chair. “I figured you’d probably be exhausted, hence the breakfast offering.”
Realizing she still held the basket of muffins, Tessa placed them in the center of the table, before hustling over to the cabinet and taking down two small plates. Tiny blue flowers rimmed the edge, with a thin band of gold bordering the intricate floral design. She’d fallen in love with the dishes, a gift from her mother when she’d moved into her first apartment, and couldn’t bear to leave them behind when she’d packed, though they were an extravagance. A wave of sadness fi
lled her at the thought of her mother. It was hard to believe she’d never see her again. Straightening, she pushed aside the melancholy thought and smiled at her guest.
She handed one plate to the other woman, and sat in the chair opposite hers, reaching for one of the muffins. “Sorry I can’t offer you coffee or anything. I haven’t had a chance to head to the grocery store. I’ve been living on take out and Starbucks.”
“Well, shoot.” Mrs. Boudreau swiveled in her chair, and reached for the bag hooked over the chairback. She pulled out a large thermos and placed it on the table beside the basket of muffins. “I almost forgot, I brought coffee, too.” She grinned, digging into her oversized bag again, and pulled out a couple of little containers of creamer and a handful of sugar packets. “Wasn’t sure how you take yours, so I brought these.”
“Mrs. Boudreau, you are officially my new best friend.”
“Call me Ms. Patti, dear. Everybody does.”
Pouring two cups, Tessa added creamer to hers and took a sip, then gave a blissful sigh. “You have no idea how much I needed that.”
Ms. Patti chuckled. “Of course I do. I live in a house filled with men coming and going at all hours. Caffeine is one of the major food groups at our place.” She took a sip and leaned back. “Now the niceties are over, tell me everything about yourself.”
“Oh, boy, everything? There’s not really much to tell. I heard about the teaching position, which came at a time I needed a change. The stars all aligned or something, because here I am.”
Tessa wanted to squirm under the other woman’s searching gaze. It felt like she was probing her very soul, before Ms. Patti finally picked up her cup again. “I’m sure there’s more to you than meets the eye, but we’ve got all the time in the world to get to know each other better. But, remember, I’m here if you ever need anything. And I’ve very good at keeping my mouth shut.”
Tessa started to make an offhand remark, about not needing anything, but reading the sincerity in Ms. Patti’s gaze, caught herself. It might be nice to have a friendly ear in this sea of unknown.
“Thank you, I appreciate it.” She broke off a piece of the blueberry muffin and popped it into her mouth, savoring the sugary burst of flavor against her tongue, and couldn’t bite back her moan of delight.
“Good?”
“Amazing.”
Ms. Patti poured the rest of the coffee into Tessa’s cup, and screwed the lid back on the thermos. “I understand you met my son yesterday.”
Son?
Right. The tall, dark, and most-decidedly handsome man who’d left her tossing and turning half the night. His last name had been Boudreau.
“He caught me climbing through the front window. Thought I was a burglar.”
Ms. Patti’s brow rose at Tessa’s words. “Really?”
Heat flooded her cheeks and she couldn’t meet Ms. Patti’s eyes. “Let’s say it was a huge mistake to have an extra-large drink, followed by several hours in a car without stopping.”
Understanding lit Ms. Patti’s face along with a huge grin. “Ah, got it.”
Tessa shrugged. “Fortunately, Serena showed up and saved the day.”
“Serena’s a lovely girl, and knows the area and the people. You have any questions or problems, don’t hesitate to call her—or me.”
“I appreciate it.”
Ms. Patti stood, and tossed the thermos back into her oversized bag. “I’ve got someone scheduled to clean up the yard. They’ll be here this afternoon.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Nonsense. Should have been done before you moved in, but Old Man Johnson can be a bit…difficult.”
“I’ll need a referral for regular lawn care. Thought I’d ask Serena.”
Ms. Patti chuckled. “Serena definitely has a list of repair people for the area.” She leaned toward Tessa and whispered, “I gave her a list. She’s only been in Shiloh Springs about a year. Though I have to admit, she’s became a wonderful asset to the community. Was she able to answer all your questions?”
Tessa nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Good.” Lifting the oversized bag, which seemed to dwarf her, Ms. Patti slung it over her shoulder and headed for the door. “Well, it’s past time for my son to be up, so I’ll be on my way. Now don’t forget, you need anything, give me a call.” Sliding her hand into the bag, she pulled out a business card and handed over.
“I will. Thanks again for the breakfast and the coffee.”
Stepping out onto the porch, she watched Ms. Patti climb behind the wheel of a white Cadillac Escalade and head down the street. Glancing at the card clutched in her hand, she noted the company name emblazed on the front. It was the company she’d rented the house from.
Beneath it were the words Patricia Boudreau, broker.
Tessa smiled, tapping the card against her palm. Serena wasn’t kidding. The Boudreaus were everywhere.
CHAPTER THREE
Rafe peeled his eyeballs open, and groaned at the banging noise ricocheting around in his skull. When the sound repeated, he struggled to an upright position. Darn, he’d fallen asleep on the couch again, and the pounding noise was somebody banging on the front door.
“Just a second,” he hollered, stretching to his full height, and felt the muscles in his lower back protest the movement. Picking up the remote, he muted the sound. Flinging open the door, he grinned at the sight of his momma standing on the front stoop.
At only five foot one, she barely reached the top of his shoulders, and looked like a fragile porcelain doll, something delicate and easily crushed, but he knew better. She might be petite, but she was fierce, whether it came to business or protecting her young’uns. A mama grizzly didn’t hold a candle to Patti Boudreau.
“Don’t tell me you fell asleep on the sofa again, son.” She tilted her head back, and he brushed a kiss against her cheek, inhaling the scent of vanilla which seemed to accompany his momma wherever she went. “I don’t care how many late night shifts you work, or how long the days are, there’s a reason you have a bed in this house.”
“I know, Momma.” He shrugged. “Yesterday was one long day. I turned on the TV to catch the late news, and guess I crashed.”
She chuckled and patted his cheek. “Your daddy did the same thing. He was still asleep when I left.”
Brushing past him, she headed toward his kitchen, and he frantically tried to remember if he’d washed the batch of dirty dishes he’d had in the sink for the past two days.
“Rafael Felipe Alvarado Boudreau!”
Guess not.
Trailing behind her into the kitchen, he spotted her squeezing dish detergent into a sink rapidly filling with hot water and hung his head. He knew better, and usually kept a pretty decent house, but for the past couple of days the sheriff’s department had been short-staffed. Summer colds had hit hard, and a good chunk of the staff had come down with the crud. He’d been overworked, exhausted to the bone, and let things slide. Trust his momma to show up before he had a chance to hide the evidence.
“I brought you breakfast,” she said, plunging her hands into the mountain of bubbles, and attacking the plate she held, scrubbing hard enough he feared the pattern might come off. “Blueberry muffins. There’s also fresh O.J. in the red thermos.”
“Momma, you’re a godsend. I’m starving.”
“Son, you’re always starving.”
“I’m a growing boy,” he mumbled around a mouthful of blueberry muffin. It was their running joke. She’d been telling him that for as long as he could remember.
Turning toward him, she winked. “Good thing you’re an active boy, too, or you’d be broader than a barn.” Rinsing her hands in the now-empty sink, she dried them on a kitchen towel, and leaned against the tiled counter. “I hear you met Tessa Maxwell last night.”
Thinking about the pretty redhead, he couldn’t stop the grin curving his lips. “I caught her climbing through a window at Old Man Johnson’s place. I didn’t know he’d decided to ren
t it. Thought she was a burglar.”
His momma chuckled. “Like he’d have anything worth stealing in that old cottage. Nope. She’s the new teacher.”
Well, that certainly explained things. “How’d you know I met her? Serena?”
She shook her head. “I stopped by her place on the way over here, to welcome her to Shiloh Springs.”
Which in Patti Boudreau speak meant she’d likely interrogated her mercilessly. Oh, his momma would have been the epitome of southern charm and hospitality, because that was simply her way, but he had no doubt she’d ferreted out each pertinent detail of Red’s life in exquisite detail. There were days he wished he could hire her to come and interrogate suspects. They’d be confessing in no time.
“So, what’d you find out about Red? She tell you all her secrets? Spill any the juicy details?”
Ms. Patti’s eyes narrowed, and he felt trapped, the proverbial deer caught in the headlights. Tap, tap, tap. Uh oh, whenever her foot began tapping on the tiled floor, he knew he was in trouble. From the moment he’d moved in with Douglas and Ms. Patti, back when he’d been nothing more than an angry, prepubescent, troubled boy, who through circumstances out of his control, ended up alone and homeless, he’d quickly learned his new mother was the sweetest woman on the face of the earth—until her toes started tapping—then it was best to stay under the radar and out of her line of fire.
“Now, Momma, I only meant…” He waved his hands, scrambling to figure out what set her off.
She chuckled, and patted his arm affectionately. “I’m just pulling your leg, son. Serena and I spoke yesterday, before she went to meet Ms. Maxwell,” she emphasized, “and I told her I’d stop by this morning. Give the poor woman a chance to settle in before the hordes descend.” Walking to the sink, she picked up the towel she’d laid over the edge, neatly folded it, and placed it atop the countertop.
Reaching over, she ruffled his hair. “I know you’re tired, but I’m recruiting my boys for a little work today. Finally got Old Man Johnson to agree to me fixing up the outside of the place.”