Falling for the Hometown Hero

by Mindy Obenhaus

  He didn’t have a response. All he knew was that painting and parties took time. Time that he didn’t have.

  “Kaleb,” Sami continued, “you’ve said a million times how important this first season is going to be. Why not do it right?”

  Grace cleared her throat. “All you’d really have to do for a grand opening is set up shop outside. Go to the people instead of waiting for them to come to you.” She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “We’re talking very little time and effort. However, the payoff could be worth it.”

  His sister’s expression softened. “So what do you say, big brother? You going to go big or go home?”

  He definitely didn’t want to go home. Not only would he be letting his investors down, he’d be lost. He’d been working toward this goal for years.

  Scanning the bare-bones office, he could see where it might seem a little cold.

  We need to appeal to folks from the moment they walk into Mountain View Tours, if not before.

  Of course, the more appealing things were, the more likely people were to be drawn in.

  He eyed his sister. “You and Mom will do all the work?”

  “And Grace.” Hope lit Sami’s dark eyes. “When she’s not doing things for you, that is.”

  “And you’ll get the work done quickly?”

  “As quick as we can. After all, Memorial Day is right around the corner.”

  He lowered his arms to his sides. Even though he was ready to say yes, he paused for effect. “Okay, you can redecorate. So long as I approve all ideas and colors first. Got it?”

  “Got it.” Sami’s grin was so big, he thought she might burst. “And what about the grand opening? Scott and I would be happy to help out. I’m sure Mom and Dad would, too.”

  Honestly, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Though he didn’t have to let his sister or Grace know.

  “We can probably work something out.”

  “Yes!” Sami charged him then and hugged his neck so tight he could barely breathe. “Okay.” Letting go, she began her retreat. “I’m going to run over to the hardware store to look at some paint chips.” After a final scan of the place, she continued. “I can’t wait.” She yanked open the door. “Oh! Hello, Donna.” She held the door for Grace’s mother.

  “Hello, Sami.” The woman in her late fifties continued inside, looking as well dressed as ever in her tan slacks and flowing blue shirt. “Kaleb, I hope you don’t mind me dropping by to see my daughter.”

  “Not at all.” He could use a break. Being ganged up on by two headstrong women was enough to do any man in. “This’ll give me a chance to run and pick us up some lunch before we get down to business.”

  “It’s so good to see you.” Donna embraced her daughter. Her short auburn hair was a contrast to Grace’s long dark brown. However, they shared the same hazel eyes.

  “Hi, Mama.” Grace’s hug seemed a bit more tentative. Even awkward.

  Perhaps because he was there.

  “Grace? Burger or sandwich?”

  Her mother released her.

  “Burger’s fine. With everything, please.”

  “Done.” He started for the door. “See you later, Donna.” Outside, he crossed the street and headed toward Granny’s Kitchen.

  Scrubbing a hand over his face, he let go a sigh. Talk of redecorating and a grand opening, while both great ideas, also added to his angst. There was so much to do and so little time in which to do it. Could they really pull it off?

  God, I want to get this right.

  Honestly, he really liked the ideas Grace and Sami proposed. And if everything went according to plan...

  On the flip side—

  No. He wasn’t going to go there. Because for as much as he hated to admit it, Grace just might be the key to his success.

  * * *

  Grace did not want to do this now.

  She hadn’t seen her mother since Lucy’s wedding last year. Right after Grace had returned from deployment and learned that her own marriage was over. So why on earth would Mama come to Mountain View Tours—a public place—for their first encounter? What if the place had been filled with customers?

  Unless her mother was trying to protect herself, thinking Grace wouldn’t call her out if someone else was around. But now that Kaleb was gone...

  “Why didn’t you tell me Roger worked here?”

  Mama squared her shoulders in a defiant manner.

  “I’m not trying to pick a fight, Mama. The news just kind of blindsided me, that’s all. I wish you would have told me.”

  Lifting her chin, her mother said, “If I had, though, would you have taken the job?”

  “I guess we’ll never know, will we?” Though resignation laced Grace’s tone, she made sure there was no accusation.

  “Grace, you’re my daughter. I miss you. And I’d like to have a relationship with you.”

  “Like you do with Lucy.” The two of them were always chatting up a storm about the latest fashion trends, celebrities and such. Things Grace didn’t have a clue about. Especially after spending ten months at sea.

  Mama shrugged. “It’s easier with Lucy. She lets me in.”

  “I tell you things.”

  Her mother chuckled. “Only when I ask. Even then, you only give me enough to get me to stop with the questions. Yet you never had any problem talking to your father.” Mama looked away. “I always envied that.”

  Envy? Seriously? Grace’s gut churned with the shock of Mama’s revelation, leaving any words she might have said stuck inside.

  She glanced out the window. “Kaleb will be back soon.” And she didn’t know how to continue this conversation with her mother. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  “See what I mean. Instead of allowing anyone in, you avoid whatever makes you uncomfortable.”

  She let Aaron in. And look how that turned out.

  “This isn’t about being uncomfortable. This is reality. And reality dictates that I have a job, which means I have a boss. A boss who will be back any moment, expecting me to work.” She took a deep breath, contemplating her next offer. “I can stop by tonight...if you like.”

  Mama’s expression turned hopeful. “For dinner? I’ll make your favorite.”

  Grace’s spirits lifted a notch. “Nonna Gigi’s lasagna?”

  “Of course.”

  Grace’s mouth watered just thinking about it. Nonna Gigi’s lasagna was the ultimate in comfort food. One Grace had not had the pleasure of indulging in for years.

  Mama sure knew how to dangle the carrot.

  “I don’t get off work until six.”

  “That’s all right. We typically don’t eat until six thirty or seven.”

  “One burger with everything.” Kaleb blew through the door. “Along with some of the freshest French fries in Ouray.”

  She caught a whiff of the enticing aroma as he walked past. If they tasted half as good as they smelled...

  Her mother eased toward the door. “I’ll get out of your hair so you two can get back to work.”

  Kaleb set the white paper bag on the counter and turned to face them. “Did Grace tell you we’re going to be doing some redecorating in here?” He gestured his hand about the office.

  “She did not.” Mama paused, her hand on the doorknob, a smile at the corners of her mouth.

  Evidently, now that he’d had time to think, Kaleb decided the suggestion had been a good one.

  “Looks like we’ll be doing some painting and who knows what else to get the place in shape.”

  “Oh, I’d love to help.” Having transformed many a bland military house into a warm and inviting home, Mama not only loved, but had lots of experience with decorating.

  Working alongside
her, though?

  Slinking toward the desk and the tantalizing aromas, Grace spotted the local newspaper on the corner of the counter.

  “That’d be great, Donna. Like my grandmother always said, many hands make light work.”

  Try as she might, Grace couldn’t share Kaleb’s enthusiasm. Too many memories to be objective, she supposed.

  “What’s Roger up to today?”

  “He’s substitute teaching at the school.”

  Talk of Roger had Grace wishing she were already on that cruise ship. She picked up the newspaper and thumbed through the pages. Maybe there was another job in Ouray that she might enjoy. One that didn’t involve working with her stepfather.

  “Grace?”

  “Hmm...?” She looked at Kaleb first, then her mother.

  “I’ll see you for dinner, then?”

  She closed the paper. Folded it. “Just as soon as I get off work.”

  With her mother gone, Kaleb opened the bags and sorted out the food.

  Grace accepted her burger. “Sorry my mother interrupted us like that. I’m sure she won’t make a habit of dropping in.”

  “Don’t worry about it. After missing you last night, she was probably eager to see you. I understand.” He passed her a small bag of fries. Thin-cut, just the way she liked them. “Pull up a stool.” He pointed behind the desk.

  While he unwrapped his burger and took a bite, she grabbed the basic wooden stool and sat down, her appetite waning.

  “Something wrong with your burger?”

  “No. Just thinking about this evening.”

  Kaleb jerked his head up, a blob of mayo clinging to his bottom lip. “Problem?”

  He grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth.

  She picked up a fry, rolling it between her forefinger and thumb. “I just don’t know how I’m going to handle spending an entire evening with Roger.”

  “Why? He’s a great guy.”

  “So people keep telling me. But what kind of guy goes after a woman whose husband has been dead less than a year?”

  Kaleb settled his sandwich on top of the flattened bag. “Did you know Roger lost his wife to cancer, too?”

  “I knew he was married.” But beyond that...

  “For thirty-five years.” Kaleb wiped his hands. “Everyone around here worried about him after Camille died. My mom said he looked like a dead man walking. Until he met your mother.”

  Grace tossed the fry she’d been holding back into the bag. “Sometimes life really stinks.”

  “Yep. The buffet line of life is notorious for throwing stuff on our plates that we don’t necessarily like.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean they’re not good for us, though. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right?”

  Staring at her handsome boss, who seemed to have the world at his feet, she puffed out a disbelieving laugh. “What could you possibly know about it?”

  He narrowed his gaze on her, as though contemplating his response. “Far more than you might think.” He rounded the counter then, his expression intense, and lifted the left leg of his cargo pants.

  “What are you—” At the sight of his prosthetic leg, her words and her heart skidded to a halt. “Oh, my.” She continued to look at the metal-and-hard-plastic contraption that went all the way above his knee. “I—I never would have guessed.”

  She looked at him now. “What—”

  “IED. Cost me four of my buddies and my leg.” He let the pant leg drop. “So don’t go acting like you’re the only one who’s been handed a raw deal. Because, sweetheart, I do know a little something about it.”

  Chapter Four

  Grace would love nothing more than to go back to her campsite and lick her wounds. Next time, she needed to think twice before inviting someone else to her pity party.

  In one swift, stealthy strike, her boss had put an end to her sulking. And yes, despite her strong desire to turn tail and run, Kaleb was still her boss. Despite their disagreements, she felt as though she could make a difference at Mountain View Tours.

  Of course, that also meant she’d still be working with Roger, so she supposed she should put aside her preconceived notions and, at least, give the guy a chance.

  Now here she stood in Mama and Roger’s cottage-style kitchen, feeling like a bit of a jerk. She hadn’t realized he’d lost his wife of thirty-five years. Probably because she never took the time to listen to anything her mother—or anyone else—had to say about him.

  “What can I do to help, Mama?” She pushed up the long sleeves of her purple T-shirt and headed toward the farmhouse sink under the window to wash her hands.

  “Why don’t you set the table while I finish with this salad.” Her mother rested the knife on the marble-topped island and wiped her hands on a dish towel before opening one of the white cupboards behind her.

  “Silverware?”

  “First drawer on the right.” Mama pointed with her elbow while pulling out a stack of plates. She set them on the counter. “We’ll eat in the dining room tonight.”

  “Okay.” Eating utensils clasped in one hand, Grace reached for plain white plates with her other. “I think you gave me one too many.”

  “No, I didn’t. The fourth one is for Kaleb. Roger thought it would be nice to invite him for dinner, too.”

  Grace simply stood there, uncertain what to make of her mother’s sudden announcement. After all the head-butting she and Kaleb had done today.

  “Oh, and place mats and napkins are in the drawer in the hutch.” Mama picked up her knife and continued slicing tomatoes. “Let’s go with the turquoise ones. Add a little color.”

  Good thing Grace’s workday had ended on a positive note. Otherwise, seeing Kaleb tonight could prove to be even more awkward.

  She moved into the dining room and set the plates and silverware on the table before searching for the linens. Not that it would be difficult. Mama always kept them in the right-hand drawer.

  Turning toward the wall at the far end of the room, she vaguely recognized the tall piece of furniture whose glass case held Mama’s collection of pastel-colored Depression glass. The style of the piece was similar to the one Grace remembered growing up, except instead of the honey oak finish, this one was white.

  She pulled the crystal knob to open the drawer on the right and gasped. It was the same piece. While the outside of the hutch had been painted, the inside of the drawer still bore hers and Lucy’s names. Names they’d written in permanent marker along the inside of the drawer. A move that had earned them both a stern scolding and a lengthy time-out.

  Stepping back, she stared at the furniture piece, a bittersweet feeling leaching into her heart. She remembered the look of pure delight on her mother’s face the Christmas Daddy presented it to her. “You need a special place to display your collection,” he’d told her.

  Grace thought it was the most beautiful, if not ginormous, thing she’d ever seen. Yet as she stared at it now, the hutch looked prettier than ever. Like a better version of itself.

  A noise in the kitchen interrupted her reverie and stole her attention.

  “Smells delicious.” Roger closed the door behind him, wiping his booted feet on the rug before making his way into the room. His arm snaked around her mother’s waist as he set a plastic grocery sack on the counter. He said something, though the words were too soft for Grace to hear. Whatever it was, though, made her mother giggle and had a blush creeping into her cheeks.

  “Love words” were what she and Lucy used to call it when Daddy would whisper sweet nothings into Mama’s ear. Sometimes she would blush, sometimes not, but either way, Grace and Lucy knew it was an intimate conversation, meant only for Mama and Daddy.

  Suddenly uncomfortable, Grace grabbed the place mats and napkins and returned her focus to the table.


  “Hello, Grace.” Roger stood just on the other side of the doorway between the two rooms. “Glad you could make it.” Hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, he seemed to look everywhere but at her.

  Just like she did when she was uncomfortable.

  Could it be that Roger was as nervous about tonight as she was?

  “Thank you for having me.” Hands shaking, she finished laying out the silverware, realizing she’d forgotten to grab another set. “You have a lovely home.”

  “Yeah.” He moved closer, just enough to admire the dining room and adjoining living room. Both had that same cottage feel, lots of white furniture against dark hardwood floors and pale blue-gray walls. “Your mother’s quite the decorator.”

  He’d let her mother redecorate? But this was his house.

  “She managed to fuse our former lives and our new life into something fresh and different.”

  Much like the old hutch.

  All of Lucy’s words about Roger being a good guy flooded her memory. Grace had chosen to ignore her sister. Now her emotions warred within.

  Perhaps her mother wasn’t quite so eager to forget the past after all.

  The doorbell rang then.

  “That would be Kaleb.” Moving along the opposite side of the table, Roger headed toward the door.

  Feeling as though she still had egg on her face when it came to her boss, Grace took the opportunity to retrieve that fourth set of utensils.

  Inside the kitchen, her mother was removing a large baking dish from the oven. The aromas of meat, cheeses and whatever other secret ingredients made up Nonna Gigi’s famous lasagna wafted throughout the room, reminding Grace of simpler times.

  She inhaled deeply, wishing she could find a way to capture the scent for those times when life got rough. “That smells amazing.”

  “Always does.” Mama set the pan atop the stainless-steel stove, then grabbed a sheet pan that held a split loaf of French bread spread with garlic butter and sprinkled with cheese. “Now all I have to do is get this garlic bread baked.” She set the pan in the oven and adjusted the heat.

  Hearing Kaleb’s voice in the other room, Grace opened the drawer and took out another knife, fork and spoon. “Mama?”