Adjusting the tin cans she’d pierced, painted and repurposed as night lights, Kelsey debated how to approach the Jacksons. Hey, so I heard your grandpa died. How about you let me have first crack at his stuff?
Her back facing the crowd, Kelsey rolled her eyes. No wonder two awkward introverts like she and Angel always fought over who did the talking! But she was the business owner. It was her responsibility to take care of the store. And what the store needed right now was fresh merchandise for the holiday season, even if it stretched her financially—or socially—to obtain it.
Turning, Kelsey clasped her hands together. She stepped out from under her awning. “Uh, Mr. Jackson?”
Again, Tyler glanced at her, but before he could gesture for his dad’s attention, a skinny figure in torn jeans and a black shirt and hoodie cut between them.
“Kelsey. Hey.”
“Oh, hi, Martin.” Kelsey tried to look beyond the high schooler, annoyed at his untimely arrival. Martin Spivey had a knack for catching her unaware. That was why she’d hired him to clean and unload stuff at her old location anyway, out of pity when he kept begging for work.
“So with Christmas coming, I was wondering if you had anything for me to do.”
Kelsey blinked and smiled despite the boy’s lack of social grace, knowing it stemmed from an absentee, alcoholic father and a mother who cleaned hotel rooms more hours than she spent at their trailer outside town. But her compassion didn’t change her own financial straits. “I’m sorry, Martin. With this new location, I had to hire a part-time girl to cover when Angel and I are out. I don’t have anything extra right now.”
Martin shifted, the shadows under his eyes growing darker with a frown. “You heard about what happened last week? Is that why?”
“Why what, Martin?”
“Why you won’t give me any work. That’s not fair. It wasn’t my fault!”
Kelsey backed toward the store and motioned for the kid to keep his voice down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Please, I really need the work.” Martin’s hands twitched as he edged up on her.
Kelsey’s eyes swung to the Jackson sons, wondering if they’d intervene if necessary. But they paid no attention to her little debacle. Tyler handed the toddler back to his brother and leaned down to say something to Margaret Jackson.
Suddenly Martin swung an arm out, exploding, “I couldn’t let him talk about her that way!”
The gesture caught the elbow of a man hurrying out of the coffee shop. As his cup went flying with the lid off, black liquid gushed all over Kelsey’s light blue sweater. And Kelsey died a little more inside, because she knew this man, too. Nicholas Standard was only the most handsome and wealthy bachelor in town.
“Oh! I’m so sorry.” Nick’s blue eyes widened before his dark head bent in an effort to soak the coffee up with the extra napkins he held.
Kelsey jumped back with her hands in the air. “It’s okay. Um—hey!”
Suddenly the real estate developer from Cumming seemed to realize he had his hands all over her. His face flushed scarlet as he apologized again, then bent to retrieve his now-empty cup.
Noticing the teenager still standing there, Kelsey added, “Martin, now is not a good time.”
✽ ✽ ✽
“Well, when would be a good time?”
Tyler couldn’t believe the boy’s persistence. “Is there a problem here?” he said as he loomed over the Goth punk and the petite antique shop owner. Martin Spivey lost some of his bluster.
A gust of air whooshed out the teen’s nostrils. “Fine, but you should know, I was just defending my little sister. A guy does what he has to do.”
As Martin stalked away, Nick cradled Kelsey’s elbow, asking, “Are you okay?”
She looked at him like he’d beat the high schooler off with his umbrella. What man under forty carried an umbrella? “I’m fine, thanks.”
“What a little jerk. Is there anything I can do? Pay for your dry cleaning, at least?”
“No, not necessary.”
Tyler watched as Kelsey Jordan shook her head. Hazel eyes twinkled up at the Atlanta-area entrepreneur, while a sweet smile lit her heart-shaped face. With those pixie freckles, she didn’t look a day older than she had when she’d stubbed Tyler with her pencil eraser in Horrible Hal’s English Lit and volunteered to set up tutoring with the sweet old professor she lived with. She’d saved his junior year, and would have saved his major league plans if it hadn’t been for that pre-graduation rotator cuff tear. It was still hard to think about that. Now Tyler wondered why Kelsey looked at Nick so admiringly when all the man had done was spill coffee on her.
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Then … I’ll see you around some time.”
“Okay.”
After Nick hurried on to whatever appointment awaited him, Kelsey blinked and seemed to realize Tyler still stood there, while his mother had obeyed his prompting to rescue Kelsey and browsed the sale table.
“Hi,” Kelsey said.
“Hi.” He grinned.
Her hand fluttered over her chest. “Thank you. For the intervention.”
“He giving you trouble?”
She lifted a shoulder. “He’s harmless.”
“Desperate usually isn’t harmless, and he sounded pretty desperate.”
“Yeah, well, he’ll find another merchant to pester. But I guess I make it easy for him to keep coming back when I’m nice. I even taught him how to sand and repair some furniture last year. He has promise, but … I just can’t afford him right now.” Kelsey stepped over near Margaret, and Tyler followed her.
“My dear, your talent always amazes me,” Margaret said. “I never would have thought of making an old shutter a magazine rack. What got you started doing this … upcycling?”
Kelsey laughed. “A long time before anyone approved of repurposing or upcycling, my mom just called it dragging in junk.”
“Well, she was wise to not discourage you. Where do you get your ‘junk’ now?”
Tyler noticed how Kelsey’s face lit up. “Same places I get my quality antiques. Garage sales, flea markets, second hand stores. And estate sales. Those are the best, especially when I can get a preview before the sale. In fact, I hate to ask so soon, but I did hear about Mr. Turpin …”
As Kelsey let her voice trail off, Tyler’s brow tightened. Was this what she had been about to ask before Martin showed up? If so, she could scrap her vulture-like notions. He wasn’t about to let anyone paw through his step-grandfather’s things a mere week after the funeral. Not even a cute little shop owner he owed a favor to. Noticing his scowl, Kelsey’s hopeful expression faltered. She glanced back at Margaret.
“I—I wouldn’t ask so soon, except … I really need the inventory.” She wrung her hands together. “As you could hear with Martin, things have been tight, but fresh merchandise equals sales. People want new items to purchase over the holidays.”
“We’re not having an estate sale,” Tyler announced. “The house is full of family heirlooms we intend to keep.”
“Tyler, you know we haven’t decided yet what to do with the place.” His mother tilted her swirl of sandy hair back in Kelsey’s direction. “Tyler’s especially attached to the old home place since he spent so much time there these past years, helping Frank take care of everything. We have a lot to decide in the coming days, but I’ll certainly let you know first if we want to part with anything.”
“Thank you.” Kelsey nodded and appeared to acquiesce, before her head came up with a hopeful surge. “What about the barn?”
Her question stopped Margaret from entering The Flea An’Tweak.
“What about it?” Tyler asked.
“Perhaps there’s some junk in there you’d like to get rid of?”
He started to shake his head, but his mother said with what sounded like relief, “Oh, Tyler, there is a bunch of junk in there. And it’s all going to need to be cleaned out. I can�
��t see that it would hurt for Kelsey to have a look.”
“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Jackson. I promise I’ll offer you a fair price.”
Margaret grasped Kelsey’s hand. “I’m sure you will. Tyler can meet you there if you come out Sunday after church. Now, show me your Christmas creations. I need some things for my tree.”
Tyler had too much respect to argue with his mother in public. But as Kelsey cast a glance of trepidation over her shoulder at him, he kept his expression forbidding. This girl possessed unexpected persistence in her petite frame. He had the feeling that once she got on Jackson land, he might never get her off.
As Kelsey peered behind her, her eyes rounded, and a little gasp escaped her lips. He’d thought her cute, but that rapturous look did things to his gut that cute didn’t do. Following her gaze, he glanced behind him to see every bare branch downtown twinkling with magical white light.
CHAPTER TWO
Following the service at her nondenominational church and lunch with Miss Hannah on Sunday, Kelsey spent far too long deciding what to wear to the Jackson farm. Finally, she settled on jeans and a plaid shirt. She’d be sorting through an old barn, anyway.
Leaving the cottages on Hannah’s residential street and the gold-leaf steeple of UNG’s Price Memorial Hall behind as she headed toward Long Branch Road, Kelsey reminded herself this was just another business deal. She made the turn onto the Jackson land, her late model Ford bumping down the driveway between fields still dotted with hay bales. But as she approached the columned, pre-Civil War white frame house, she wondered if her old truck made her look like too much of a hick. Especially when she noticed a black Mercedes nosed up to the boxwood hedge alongside a Chestatee Excursions vehicle. Tyler’s parents?
She parked and slid to the ground, taking in some cows and horses in the pasture next to Long Branch Creek. A small stable sat at one end of the field, while a weathered barn anchored the other. Ah, that must be her treasure trove.
Hearing voices, Kelsey rubbed her hands over her jeans. To her surprise, Nicholas Standard appeared on the porch with Tyler and two black and white sheep dogs.
“Don’t rule out my offer too quickly, Tyler. I’ll make it worth your while,” Nick said. Before Tyler could respond, the dogs barked and ran to greet Kelsey. Nick added with surprise, “Oh, you again!”
Kelsey extended her hands palm up, allowing the curious canines to sniff her. “Me again.”
“Stay down, Max. Down, Leah,” Tyler said in a firm voice. Then he explained, “Kelsey’s here to pick through Grandfather’s barn.”
“Really? I’d love to join you.”
“You would?” Kelsey blinked, taking in Nick’s dress clothes. She’d hardly pegged him for the rustic type.
“Yeah—I find that kind of stuff fascinating.” Nicholas came down the steps and smiled at her.
Following him, Tyler asked, “Didn’t you say you had an appointment?” Looking down at the shorter man, he hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans.
Nick rolled his eyes up and gave a nod. “Unfortunately, yes. But I can’t leave before I make amends to Kelsey. I’m going to be in town tomorrow. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
Flustered by the developer’s focused interest, Kelsey rubbed the toe of her boot in the gravel. “Um …”
Nick took her embarrassment for hesitation. “I won’t spill it on you, I promise! You’ve got to give me a chance to make a better impression.”
She felt Tyler watching her, amazing amber eyes narrowed under the brim of his cowboy hat, as though sizing up her response to Nick’s charm. The smaller sheep dog pressed against her leg, and she dropped a hand to pet her. “It’s not necessary. Really.”
Nick touched her arm. “Maybe not, but it’s not just because I feel I have to. I’ll take ‘no’ for now, but I hope to be around for a while. I don’t give up easily.” He grinned and turned to offer his hand to Tyler for a parting shake. “You’ll at least tell your dad what I said? Have him call me?”
Tyler tilted his head back and forth before settling on a nod. “We’ll think about it.”
“What was that about?” Kelsey asked as Nicholas backed his Mercedes out and drove away.
“He wants to buy the farm.”
“What? He didn’t waste any time.” At Tyler’s speculative glance, Kelsey drew her mouth down. “I guess I didn’t, either.”
“Not the same thing.” Jerking his head to direct her down the lane, Tyler started to walk before Kelsey stopped him.
“Let me get my coat. It’s cold out here.”
“Nice ride,” Tyler observed as she slammed the Ford’s door and shrugged into her jacket. His eyes slid down to her boots, not dissimilar to his own. “Didn’t peg you for a truck girl. More like a Volkswagen.”
A puff of a laugh escaped Kelsey. “How did you know? I had to sell my Bug when I started hauling antiques around.”
“That makes sense.” He turned to lead her toward the barn. “What made you decide to open a store?”
“Well, I’ve repurposed old things as long as I can remember, but the antique store came along when my grandmother died and left us her estate. My parents couldn’t deal with it, living on a military base. My mother suggested the store, and they put up the deposit. Unfortunately, I’ve stretched myself a little thin with the move to the square.”
“But you love it?”
“I love the hunt. I love the reinventing. I even love the displaying. But I wish the stuff would sell itself.” She warmed when Tyler laughed out loud. “The talking to people, that’s the hard part. So … thank you for letting me do this. I know you didn’t want to. And I’m really surprised you met with Nick.”
He cut a glance at her. “That wasn’t my idea. He just showed up unannounced. We’ve got a farm hand who stays in the tenant house, but it was lucky for Nick I was here.”
“What does he want with the land?”
“He talked about an equestrian-themed subdivision centered around a riding stable and event barn.”
“Really? Is there enough space for all that?” Kelsey peered down the lane toward several empty chicken houses nestled at the foot of a mountain.
“Three hundred fifty-four acres.”
“Wow. You don’t want to sell, do you?”
“No.” Tyler sighed as he removed the latch from the barn door, the motion drawing Kelsey’s unwilling admiration to the man’s well-muscled chest. “I spent most of my childhood here. Even in recent years, I exercised the horses, took cattle to market, and helped Grandfather get in the hay. He was spry until his heart attack. He gave me my love of the outdoors. But Dad’s a business man. He’ll consider a good offer.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to convince him otherwise. Oh …” Kelsey’s voice trailed off as she absorbed the wealth of junk before her. In the dusty light, old farm implements, antique furniture, broken machinery and heaps of bric-a-brac lined both sides of a central aisle.
Tyler chuckled. “More than you bargained for?”
“Not really but, it exceeds what I’d imagined.”
He gazed down at her quizzically. “Really? Because I see mostly junk that just needs thrown away.”
“Then you should’ve come in my store the other day. Can I just … make a pile?” Kelsey asked, placing her hands on an oak table.
“Yeah. I can get you some crates if you want. But that’s broken in the middle.”
She glanced up. “I’ll get two wall desks out of it. And these vintage suitcases are the bomb! I can sell them just as they are or put wheels on them and make them side tables. Or mount them as a medicine cabinet. The possibilities are endless.”
Lost in her foraging, Kelsey hardly noticed as Tyler moved stuff around, placing a series of empty crates in the middle of the barn. He probably had no idea she’d repurpose the crates, too. As she filled them, she shared her ideas of turning the old jars into oil lamps, a metal colander into a planter, a broken ladder into a hanging pot rack, and wire baskets into light
fixtures.
“And you do that all on your own?” he called over a stack of old doors and her cry of delight as she discovered a late 1800s tabletop desk.
It registered that he sounded impressed, but Kelsey was too distracted to be gratified. “Yes. My dad was very handy, and I was an only child. What’s this doing in here?”
Tyler rounded the corner, eyeing the small piece of furniture. “Well, it’s pretty banged up.”
“Oh, no. A bit of sanding and paint, and it will be beautiful.”
“Is there anything you don’t want?” He stood close to her, his masculine scent causing Kelsey to pause and inhale a shaky breath.
She looked around rather than at him. “Not much. I already see several pieces of furniture I know I can refinish in my store’s style, if you’re willing to move them into the middle. And I’m holding myself back. I am on a budget.”
“Well, I have directions from the matriarch not to be stingy, but I think you’re accumulating more than your truck can handle.”
“Me, too.”
“I’d offer to load my brother’s, but I’m supposed to meet the fam for dinner. Could I make a run later?”
“It’s okay. Can I just come back tomorrow for the big stuff? I’ll need some time to sort through what I’ve got today and make room at the shop anyway. I’ll take whatever I plan to rework to Miss Hannah’s. I live over her garage. Remember?” Kelsey glanced at Tyler, half embarrassed to bring up his visits to the former professor’s house. She’d always made herself scarce during his tutoring sessions, too shy to be in the same room with UNG’s star pitcher.
“I remember. Because of the two of you, I had the best year ever as a junior.”
Kelsey winced. “I’m sorry about your injury. Does it hurt sometimes when you’re paddling?”
“It hurts sometimes that I’m paddling.” Tyler’s mouth tightened, then he hedged. “I like it well enough. At least I’m not cooped up behind a desk. Okay, show me what to move.”
Sensitive to his feelings, Kelsey pointed out the items she wanted. While Tyler moved them, she finished filling the crates. Then she pulled the truck up outside the barn. As they hefted boxes over the tailgate, a brown Quarter Horse and a spotted white Appaloosa hung their necks over the fence, watching.
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