“But I’m a stranger here,” Mary protested.
“Yes, but you’re with Brody now, and he’s one of us. Whether he likes to admit it or not.” Tavie tapped fingers on the counter like a judge using a gavel to pass judgment. “And Brody can haul the stuff back here once you get settled with your own things. See? Problem solved.”
The bell above the door tinged, and Ogle Whatley stepped inside the store. He nodded. “Brody. Mary.”
Tavie looked up from entertaining Elliott. “Ogle picked up your car this morning.”
“Any idea of the extent of the damages?” Brody asked before Mary could say anything.
Ogle rubbed his shiny scalp. “I’ll need to look it over a bit more, but most of the damage appears to be cosmetic. ’Course, the insurance people will have the final say.”
“Thank you,” Mary said, still trying to process the kindness of these people. Of course, some of it was due to Brody, but it was still amazing and unlike anything she’d experienced before. “I will be sure to get the insurance claim started today. Oh, and my suitcases and items are still in the trunk. I don’t suppose—”
“Ogle, see what you can—” Tavie began.
“Already on it, dear.” Ogle saluted his wife and motioned for Brody to follow him.
“Let me go see what I can do.” Brody touched Mary’s arm. “If there’s anything you need while we’re here, Tavie can put it on my tab.”
“I can pay my own way,” Mary said. Living in a small town, even one as friendly and helpful as Loon Lake, would take some getting used to. She couldn’t pop down to the bodega on the corner if she ran out of diapers or baby food, but having other people who would know and love Elliott would be worth any inherent inconveniences.
After the men left, Tavie held out her hands. “May I hold him while you pick up whatever supplies you need? It’s been a long time since I had a young’un to fuss over. My youngest grandbaby is off flyin’ helicopters over there in Afghanistan.”
“Sure. He’s not shy around strangers. At least not yet.” Mary handed him over. “You must be proud of your grandchild.”
“We are proud of him. ’Course, he’d make me a lot happier if he was home and safe,” Tavie told her. “It’s not like we don’t have helicopters around here. They used one a ways back to pluck some hiker who got turned around over there in New Hampshire on Mount Washington.”
“I hope your grandson comes back safe and sound,” Mary said. “And soon.”
While Tavie entertained Elliott, Mary went over to the display of wind chimes and bird feeders she’d noticed when they’d first entered the store. The blown-glass shaped to look like jellyfish caught her eye. She loved the whimsical hand-painted seahorses and tropical fish in between the tentacles of the jellyfish.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” Tavie, with Elliott perched on her hip, came to stand next to Mary.
Mary nodded with enthusiasm. “I love listening to them. And these are fun just to look at. They remind me of miniature Chihuly glass sculptures.”
“I don’t know what Chihulys are, but a few of these would sure look pretty on that front porch of yours.” Tavie bounced Elliott on her hip. “As long as you placed them in a protected spot.”
“Oh, I’m just staying on the farm temporarily.” Good heavens, did people think she’d moved in with Brody?
“You and this little guy here will be good for Brody, bring him out of his shell.”
“But I’m just—”
“Yeah, I ’spect that now you’re here, Brody will be more visible in the community. I’m sure the three of you will be joining us for the Independence Day picnic on the green.”
“The picnic sounds like a highlight for the community,” Mary said, trying to be noncommittal. How had a discussion of wind chimes deteriorated into this? And why did Brody not want to involve himself in the community? Strange, because everyone seemed to like him.
“Yup, even Des Gallagher—he’s the one who makes these...what did you call them? Chihulys? Anyway, he’ll be there with a booth in the craft fair. Like Brody, he’s a veteran, doesn’t say much. Lets his artwork speak for him, I reckon.”
Before Mary could form any sort of comment, Elliott tried to grab a bird feeder made of delicate china teacups. The cups held seeds and the saucers formed a perch for the birds.
Tavie took a step back. “As gorgeous as they are, I don’t think your mama wants to buy all of Des’s creations. Let’s go find something more age appropriate.”
Mary enjoyed listening to Tavie and Elliott as she strolled around the store and picked up the supplies she’d need, her footsteps echoing on the raw wooden floors. She paused in front of a display crammed full of glass jars stocked with all sorts of sweets. She’d never seen anything like it except in pictures or movies. It was easy to imagine an older Elliott asking for a treat. Whoa, slow down. Don’t get ahead of yourself. She couldn’t put all her hopes and dreams into staying in Loon Lake. Experience had taught her the evanescent nature of people and places in her life. She touched her fingertips to her lips as she recalled Brody’s kiss. Had it meant anything to him, or had it been to satisfy his curiosity? He’d admitted that he’d wondered what kissing her would be like, so maybe that was what had prompted it. She needed to be wary of projecting her feelings onto his actions.
“There you are. Finding all you need?”
Brody’s deep baritone from behind caused her to twirl around and the items she’d been juggling in her arms slipped, spilling to the floor.
“Hey, you okay?” Brody frowned and touched her arm. She nodded, and he squatted to gather her things. “You’re sure you’re okay? You seem a bit jumpy.”
Are you gonna marry Elliott’s mommy and change his name?
Now you’re here, Brody will be more visible in the community.
Would he feel pressured by her staying on his farm? Heck, she was feeling it, so he must be. “I don’t want Elliott and me being here to make any trouble for you.”
“Trouble? What do you mean?” A deep frown creased his brow.
Yeah, what did she mean? She shrugged and searched for words to explain. “From what Tavie said, it feels like the town is...is reading into my staying with you and...and I don’t know if there’s someone you don’t want getting the wrong idea...about us, I mean. Fiona is the one who asked the question, but others are looking at us and wondering.”
“C’mon, Mary, you’re not going to let something a six-year-old says affect you. As for the town, jumping to conclusions is part of what they do. Don’t worry about it.” He took the mangled box of baby cereal and set it on the floor. His hand captured hers, his intense gaze steady on her. “I’m glad you’re here, and I’m enjoying getting to know Elliott. We’ll just take things as they come and—”
“Land sakes, what’re you two doing down there, actin’ like a couple of gorbies in mating season?” Tavie stood at the end of the aisle with Elliott snuggled against her shoulder.
“I’m just helping Mary pick up the things she dropped.” Brody scooped up the rest of the items and rose, pulling her up with him. When she reached for her things, he said, “I got ’em.”
He started to follow Tavie, but Mary stopped him with a hand on his arm. “What are gorbies?”
“Gray jays...birds. Don’t worry, you’ll pick up the lingo after you’ve been here for a while.” He laughed and shifted the things in his arms.
“Must be nice to belong somewhere,” she said on a quiet sigh. Brody acted as if he belonged, but his speech didn’t have the same characteristics of the people she’d met. “Did you spend any time here growing up?”
“Nah, but they don’t hold it against me.”
So these people had welcomed him. Her whole life she’d been searching for the place she belonged. She’d like to think that place might be here in Loon Lake. “How long have you lived here?”
<
br /> “Since I got out of the army...about three years,” he said.
“How did you pick Loon Lake?” She found she wanted to know all she could about him...and not just for Elliott’s sake.
“A helicopter pilot I met in Afghanistan spoke about the town, so I decided to check it out.”
She couldn’t help grinning. What were the chances? “Tavie’s grandson?”
“Now that you mention it, I believe he was.” Brody laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling and setting off flutters in her stomach. “See? You’re already becoming a part of the community.”
“Well, Tavie did mention that her grandson flew helicopters,” she confessed, but his words affected her. More than they should have. Maybe she’d found a place to fit in, a place to belong to, a place to raise Elliott. A place to call home.
Tavie handed Elliott to Brody so she could ring up Mary’s purchases. Once in Brody’s arms, Elliott kept up a string of baby gibberish, and Brody nodded and smiled as if he understood what Elliott was telling him. Watching them, Mary had to blink to clear her vision so she could see the number pad to key in her PIN as she paid.
Finished bagging the items, Tavie leaned over the counter and gave Elliott’s cheeks a gentle squeeze between her thumbs and forefingers. “Such a sweetie. Be sure to bring him back soon. And if you need anything, Mary, just give me a holler.”
Brody looped his free arm under the infant seat handle and picked it up. “Tell Ogle we’ll be in touch about Mary’s car.”
Tavie pulled out a small box from under the counter and set it in the empty infant seat. “Don’t forget these.”
Mary started to reach for the box, but Brody shook his head. “I got it.”
Tavie grinned and winked. “Great meeting you, Mary. If I don’t see you through the week, I’ll see you through the window.”
Mary laughed as they made their way to Brody’s truck. “She’s quite the character.”
“Hmm, she is.”
At the pickup, Brody handed Elliott back to Mary and strapped the safety seat back into place. Before stepping aside, he laid his small box on the floor.
She looked from the package to him, and he shrugged.
“Tavie’s been after me to buy some of Des’s things. She calls it ‘supporting the local artisans.’”
Mary’s breath caught in her chest. Had Tavie told him how much she’d admired the wind chimes? Don’t be silly. It’s like he said. He was supporting local craftsmen. But she couldn’t help smiling to herself as she climbed into the truck.
Chapter Six
As per usual, Brody had excused himself after supper, saying he had to check on the animals and do some work in the barn. She would’ve liked to have accompanied him, but she hated to interrupt Elliott’s bedtime routine. Yeah, and what about the fact Brody never invites you? She’d broached the subject one night, and the panicked expression on Brody’s face had told her all she needed to know. So she’d spent her evenings for the past week stargazing from the porch and was often asleep when Brody came back into the house.
The tinkle of wind chimes greeted her as she let the screen door swing shut. Brody had hung the glass ones just inside the door so opening and closing made them chime but still protected them. She set the mug and baby monitor receiver on the floor next to the swing and used the light spilling out through the windows to admire the workmanship in the sun catchers. Brody had hung three jellyfish between the porch columns. They reflected the sun but had no moving parts to break. When she mentioned she liked the sound of wind chimes, he’d hung nonbreakable ones, too. He might disappear from the house every night, but he seemed to know she enjoyed sitting on the porch in the evenings, because he’d also put up a hummingbird feeder and cushions on the swing.
His thoughtfulness brought tears to her eyes, but it also stung to think she’d soon be leaving the farm for a place of her own. And she needed to get serious about looking for a place instead of falling into the cadence of life here.
The screen door’s hinges squeaked. “Stargazing?” Brody strolled onto the porch, the door slapping shut behind him.
“Still a little early for that.” She set her empty mug on the floor. “For now, I’m admiring the jellyfish.”
He touched a finger to one. “Des is a decent guy.”
She pushed her foot, setting the swing in motion, its gentle sway comforting. She couldn’t be sure if her admiration of the glass ornaments had prompted him to buy them since Brody seemed determined to downplay his generous nature, but it warmed her to think so. “They’re beautiful. I guess I will make outdoor space or a small balcony a priority.”
He pointed to the empty spot next to her on the swing. “May I?”
“Of course.”
* * *
Brody eased onto the swing, his weight setting it off into a crazy rhythm, but he used his foot to return it to its gentle motion. He’d been hiding out in the barn in the evenings after Elliott went to sleep because it was getting harder and harder to keep from touching Mary. And he wasn’t sure what he thought about that.
“How is Eleanor?” Mary asked. “She seemed happy to see Elliott and me when we checked on her before supper.”
“You think so?” He chuckled at her insistence on treating the calf as if it were a dog, but her attitude spoke to something deep within him. Not that he was about to explore those feelings. Or any other feelings, for that matter. Instead, he’d concentrate on whether to get Mary and Elliott a dog. The Coopers’ mutt was cute, even if it had the unfortunate name of Mangy. He should ask Riley where he’d gotten the dog.
She worried her lower lip. “Maybe I should have checked on her again in case she was lonesome.”
“She’s fine, bedded down for the night. We can put her in the pasture with Gertie tomorrow, if that will ease your mind.” He’d let the old cow near the calf’s stall a few times so she’d get used to her. He knew they could be fearful in new situations, so he’d take it slow.
“Yes, thank you.” She turned toward him, her face split with a smile, her eyes sparkling.
He swallowed, trying to think of something to break the tension swirling around them. “So...you, ah, you like stargazing?”
“It’s nice without all the light pollution from the city...” Her voice trailed off.
“It is.” He leaned closer, and his heart rate increased. Where did this desire to know her thoughts come from? “Is there a reason you enjoy it so much?”
“As...as a kid, I had a silly dream of going into space.” She breathed out a quiet laugh. “With Nathan Fillion and the crew of the Serenity.”
“Ah, a Firefly fan.” He rested his arm across the back of the swing. Jeez, could he get any more obvious? He hadn’t been this awkward or juvenile in years.
“Uh-huh,” she said and seemed to relax. “What about you? What were your dreams as a kid?”
Her hair brushed against the skin on his bare forearm, making it hard to concentrate on their conversation, but if he didn’t at least try to make small talk, she might leave. “I wanted to be Bond. James Bond. I guess I’d be more Jason Bourne, since I’m not British.”
“Well, I think you’re even cuter than Matt Damon.” She glanced at him with that infectious smile.
“Taller, maybe.” He laughed, but his chest expanded at the compliment. Why had he been avoiding spending the evenings out here with her? At the moment he couldn’t think of even one reason.
She shook her head. “Matt Damon isn’t short.”
“Not to you maybe...you’re, what? Five three or four.”
“Three and a half, if I stand ramrod straight. You’re what, six two?”
He grinned into the darkness. “Yeah, something like that.”
She moved her head to peer at him through the dim light. “What? Tell me.”
“Six one and a half...if I stand ramrod stra
ight,” he mimicked.
She playfully bumped his shoulder.
Her touch sent a shiver racing through him, leaving him wanting more. When was the last time a simple, playful gesture had meant so much? “So, have you caught a glimpse of the Serenity yet in your nightly observations?”
“Very funny. I don’t think I’ve ever been this far away from the city’s light pollution. The sky...it’s...it’s amazing out here.”
“Yeah, I looked up a lot when I first moved here.” He studied the graceful curve of her neck as she studied the night sky. There was a spot where her neck and shoulder met that was begging to be kissed and caressed. He suppressed a groan.
“And now?” she asked with that breathless, husky quality to her voice.
Aw, man, she was killing him. He shifted and had to steady the swing again with his foot. “Now it’s just there. But thank you for reminding me to stop and take a look.”
“The more I see and experience, the more convinced I am that Loon Lake is the place I want to raise Elliott.”
“You do know that once he’s grown, he’ll run off to the city to look for excitement,” he teased.
A soft curve touched her lips as she glanced at him. “Yeah, but at least I will have given him a good start in life. He’ll always have this place to come to if he needs it.”
“He’ll always be welcome here.” And you, too. For someone who’d come here seeking isolation, he’d sure changed his tune. Temporarily, he reminded himself. He needed to remember Elliott was his nephew, thereby complicating matters. And what exactly was his objection to complicated?
“Sorry. By here, I meant Loon Lake. Don’t worry, we’re...uh...we’re not permanent houseguests.” She glanced at her hands in her lap.
“I wasn’t worried,” he assured her in a quiet tone and touched her shoulder.
“Meg Cooper said I might be able to rent the house next to theirs for a short time. She said she’d approach the owners and see.”
“There’s no rush.” The speed and ease with which Mary and Elliott had fit into his life surprised him.
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