Pippa’s eyes widened at that, and her cheeks might have gone a bit pink.
“Quite the little bully,” he said, then slipped his hand from hers, laid it on top of her fingers, and squeezed with more strength than she’d believed he had. “Thank you,” he told her. “I should have said it sooner. But what you and Seth did for me saved my life.”
Her eyes went misty and her throat tightened as she tried not to recall the specifics of that day. “I just did what anyone would do,” she told him. Then, seeking to lighten the mood, she wiggled her eyebrows. “Besides, I really needed that truck. How would it look if I just drove off in it and left you pinned there?”
He chuckled at that, delighted, then squeezed her hands again before letting them go. “Can you help with my pillows?”
She jumped up and did as he asked and Mabry shifted to sit up straighter.
“So,” he said, as soon as he was settled and she was seated back in her chair. “Seeing as we’re being blunt, have you and Seth managed to figure out what the rest of us who aren’t blind saw from the day you two met?”
Now it was her turn to look surprised and let out a choked laugh. “We’re . . . making inroads in that direction.”
Mabry looked pleasantly surprised, but was shaking his head at the same time. “Inroads? What in the blazes does that mean? Is that the younger generation’s way of saying you’re dating?”
“We’re having dinner this evening, in fact,” Pippa said.
“Have you come to me for dating advice, then?”
She grinned. “What’ve you got?”
“Well,” he said, considering, “I’ve only got one thing to give you on that, but it’s the only thing you need to worry about.”
Pippa leaned closer, truly curious to hear what he had to say. “And what would that be?”
“Be honest about the important things, kind about the hard things, and whatever you do, don’t give worry a leg up.”
“Are we talking dating, or—”
“We’re talking life,” Mabry said.
Pippa nodded. “Okay. What do you mean, ‘don’t give worry a leg up’?”
“Worry gives you nothing, it only takes, and what does it take? It takes the most precious thing you have. Time.” Mabry reached for her hand again, and this time he held hers between his own. “Don’t waste time, Pippa. You young people think you have endless amounts of it, but none of us do. I had more than sixty years with my sweet Annie, and it wasn’t long enough.” He shook her hand slightly, and held her gaze. “Don’t give your time away to worry. Go after life. You hear?”
Pippa hadn’t known what to expect, but it hadn’t been that. She felt her eyes water for what seemed the hundredth time that day. This time in gratitude. “I won’t,” she said, her throat full once more.
Mabry nodded, but didn’t let go of her hand. His gaze turned shrewd and he leaned forward a bit when he added, “Will you promise this old man something else?”
Pippa nodded and blinked back the moisture in her eyes. “If I can.”
“Apply that bit of advice to every part of your life. Do you understand my meaning?”
Pippa swallowed past the lump in her throat, feeling more foolish—and more indebted—than possibly at any other time in her life. “I will do my best,” she whispered. “I promise.”
Mabry held her gaze another long moment, then rested his head back on his pillows. “I plan to be around awhile, so I’ll be keeping track,” he said. “Don’t disappoint me.”
She laughed at that, and wiped at the corners of her eyes. “That’s all the motivation I need.”
“Good.” He folded his hands on his lap. “Now, since I’m stuck here with nothing better to do than fill in those endless word-search books and harass the hired help, all while suffering the indignity of allowing other folks to do the work I was put on this earth to accomplish, what other problems of yours can I fix?”
Pippa perched her hip on the side of his bed. “Actually, I was hoping you could give me some help with another situation.” She grinned. “Now that you’ve gotten my life sorted out.”
Mabry lifted his hand, gesturing her to go on, but there was a twinkle in his eyes now.
“It’s actually rather serious,” she said. “I’ve made a muck of things. Not on purpose, mind you, but I want to set things right. It’s about Wilson McCall, and his son, Jake. Do you know them?”
Mabry frowned. “I do. Wilson has helped me on more occasions than I can count. Mason by profession now, former military man, as was my brother. I’ve yet to find a thing Wilson can’t mend. Jack-of-all-trades, I suppose you’d say. Fine fiddle player, I hear, too, once upon a time, though you’d never know it.”
Pippa brightened. “So, it’s common knowledge then, that he played at one time?”
“I don’t know how common it is, but I know it’s true. His mother, Dorothy, grew up here, you see. Everyone called her Dot. She was a bitty thing. She was Dorothy Lankford back then. My Annie and Addison Pearl were both childhood friends of hers, though they were in different grades in school. Not many kids in the Falls back then, so they were close, despite the age difference.”
“That much hasn’t changed,” Pippa told him, charmed by the discovery. “Will’s son, Jake, has become very good friends with Sawyer Hartwell’s stepsister, Bailey Sutton. They’re a few years apart, but they’re two peas in a pod.”
Mabry nodded, looking pleased by that. “Well, Dot met Jack McCall in college, married him and followed him around the globe for years. Military wife. Never met the man, but have heard only good things. They just had the one child, Wilson. Used to come visit Dot’s folks in the summer when he was little. Dot, Annie, and Addison kept in touch, though. Wrote letters, sent postcards. Addison Pearl was most responsible for keeping that going, I think. Dot was gone a long time, but she was always Blue Hollow Falls family, you know.”
“I do,” Pippa said softly. “Where I grew up, it’s much the same way. It’s good she always had friends back home.”
Mabry nodded, then sighed, some of the twinkle fading from his eyes. “Jack—Wilson’s father—was killed in combat. Wilson was serving by then, too, I think, but I’m not sure. Dot came back home after Jack died, lived out the rest of her life here. Will married, had Jacob.” Mabry smiled. “Named after his grandfather. Jack was a Jacob, too.” He chuckled. “Dot would go on and on about her only grandchild. Passed photos to anyone who’d look at them.” He sobered then. “Then Wilson’s wife passed. Dot went off for a while to help with the funeral and such, help out with Jacob. When it was said and done, Will was still serving his country, so she brought Jacob here, where she could look after him. He was just a little thing back then, barely out of the crib as I recall.” Mabry sighed and shook his head. “No shortage of tragedy in that family, I suppose.”
“What happened?” Pippa asked. “To Wilson’s wife. If you don’t mind telling me.” She didn’t want to drag Mabry through sad memories, but thought it might help her understand Will better.
“Car accident. Drunk driver.” Mabry shook his head. “Annie knew more about it all than I did. Addison Pearl would, too. And her memory is better.”
Pippa smiled briefly. “I don’t know, you seem to be doing pretty well. I appreciate your sharing this with me. I didn’t mean to dredge up sad memories. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important. Can you tell me anything else about her? Will’s wife, I mean.”
Mabry took in a slow breath and took a moment, searching his memory. “Well, though I never met her, word was that girl could sing like an angel.” He looked at Pippa. “Don’t know if she had any ambition to go and make something of it like you did.”
Pippa smiled when he sent her a meaningful look. “So, you’ve heard about that, have you?” Since Mabry had gone into the hospital the day after meeting her, Pippa hadn’t thought he’d have learned that bit of news. Maggie knew, though, so of course she’d probably mentioned it to him.
“Oh, there isn’t much I d
on’t hear about,” Mabry said, looking pleased.
“Will’s wife just sang locally, from what I know, but made a splash when she did. That’s what she was doing the night she died. Coming home from singing for some Christmas holiday program on base, I believe.”
“Oh, no!” Pippa gasped. “At the holidays? That’s awful.”
“Will was overseas, as I recall, stationed somewhere where families couldn’t go.” He shook his head. “Can’t imagine getting that kind of news at that time of year.”
Pippa shook her head, understanding more and more why Will had been so deeply affected by his loss. “Where was Jacob?”
“No idea. With a sitter, I’m guessing.”
Pippa nodded, feeling heartsick for Will, and for Jake.
“And you know the rest,” Mabry said. “Dot got sick a few years later. Jacob was in school by then, so five or six years later at least. It took a while, but that gave her and Will time to plan. It was sad, but merciful when her time came. Will got out of the service after that, moved here full time.”
“You’re right,” Pippa said quietly. “That’s a lot of grief and loss for one family.”
“Lot of love in that family, too,” Mabry countered. “All in how you want to look at it.”
Pippa looked up then, pulled from her thoughts. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Ask me, I’d much rather someone sum up my life by all the good there was in it, than the sad. Live long enough and loss is unavoidable. You can choose to mourn what you don’t have, or be thankful for what you did.”
Pippa sat back in her chair and let that sink in. Only she wasn’t thinking about Will and Jake. She was thinking about Seth, about the choice they’d just made to be thankful for what they might have. She hoped she’d be strong enough when the time came, to remain positive and thankful, after it was over.
She thought about her future, too, about her voice, and the choices she’d yet to make. Was that what she’d been doing all these months? Mourning what was gone? Instead of focusing on what she still had to be thankful for? She thought about what Mabry had told her earlier, about not giving valuable time away to something as fruitless as worry. She knew he was right, about all of it. You just have to find the strength to do it.
Pippa looked back at Mabry and saw that he was dozing. She hoped dredging up those memories hadn’t tired him out too much. She gathered her purse and stood, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Thank you,” she whispered.
His eyes fluttered open briefly as she turned to leave. “Was that of any help?” he asked, sounding a big groggy now.
“More than you’ll ever know,” she told him with a warm, affectionate smile.
He nodded. “See?” he said, his eyes already drooping closed again. “More to put on that good list.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Change of plans,” Pippa said over the phone, but she sounded excited rather than regretful.
Seth pinned the phone between his shoulder and his ear so he could tuck the towel in around his hips. He sat on the side of his bed, his wet hair dripping down his bare back, and palmed the phone again. “Okay. What’s the new plan? No dinner?”
“Yes, dinner, but not at Bo’s.” She paused, then said, “Could you meet me at Addie Pearl’s house?”
Surprised, he said, “Sure. You know, if you’re thinking we need a chaperone, I really won’t carry you off to my cave like a Neanderthal. Earlier behavior notwithstanding.”
She giggled at that, and whatever worry he had about what had prompted this detour instantly smoothed out. He wondered how long it was going to take to not worry every other minute that she would change her mind. Now who’s afraid of flip-flopping? he thought, knowing Sawyer would be largely entertained by what he was putting himself through. The answer was that he’d stop worrying when her time in Blue Hollow Falls was up, and they knew what they were going to do going forward.
“Well,” Pippa said, “I’m fairly confident I could take care of myself if you went all Viking on me. Stunt driving isn’t the only thing Brae taught me.”
“Having grown up with four sisters, even without special training, I believe you,” Seth said, chuckling. “So, why are we inviting Addie Pearl to crash our date?”
“Because I have a plan to help Will and Jake. And if I hold off putting it into motion, I’m afraid I’ll lose my nerve.”
Seth’s smile instantly changed to a look of concern. “Pippa, I really don’t think we should meddle—”
“We won’t be,” she said. “It’ll just be me. But I need Addie Pearl’s help, and I would like your input, too. I promise, this is a gentle plan, Seth. I wouldn’t risk hurting either of them any more than they’ve already been hurt. I’ll explain it all when I see you. Same time, and Addie Pearl said to bring a bottle of your wine.”
“I’m not making wine yet,” he said.
“Addie said you’ve been playing with grapes and making test batches since back when you first bought the place.”
“She did, did she?”
“Mm-hmm. Addie Pearl told me you’ve given a few bottles away as Christmas presents, but she drank hers.” Pippa laughed. “Looks like we have a lot to discuss this evening.”
“I’ll bring the wine,” Seth told her, shaking his head but grinning as he did. Pippa was a lot to keep up with, all by herself. Putting her in cahoots with Addie Pearl, however, might be more than even he could handle. “Is it just the three of us?”
“Yes,” she said. “Bailey is out with Sawyer and Sunny tonight. And I’ll make it up to you. Dinner at the cabin tomorrow?”
“I can’t,” he said, surprised but pleased by the offer. “The distributor ended up not being able to wait for me the other day, so he’s coming back tomorrow. I’ll be happy to let you borrow my kitchen, if you’d like. I make a mean tossed salad, and I can chop things up fairly decently. So I could play sous-chef.”
“That’s a date,” she said, sounding more than pleased.
They ended the call and Seth tossed the phone on the bed, then lay back and closed his eyes. It actually wasn’t a bad idea, having a chaperone that evening. Be it Addie, or the entire town watching the two of them dining at Bo’s. They’d at least have a prayer of not ending up eating breakfast together tomorrow morning. Pippa wanted to move slow; he’d move like a snail if he had to. That said, dining at the chalet, with the bed he was presently sprawled over just a few yards away? They were adults, he reminded himself. Adults who’d had adult relationships in the past. It wasn’t like ending up in bed together would automatically change things before they were ready for that change. He opened his eyes. “Who are you kidding?”
It would change everything. At least it would for him.
He sat up, then stood, snagging the damp towel that had come untucked from where it lay on the bed before walking back to the bathroom. He was going to have to change the venue for their next date—that’s all there was to it. And how many more after that?
“Yeah, there’s a question for you,” he muttered, then twisted his hair up in a knot and finished the beard trim before getting dressed. They didn’t have the luxury of forever. The clock was already ticking for them.
* * *
Seth arrived at Addie’s twenty minutes later, two bottles of wine in hand, and a knot in the pit of his stomach. Which was ridiculous. “You’re not sixteen here, bro.” In fact, if anyone who knew him could see him now, standing there on the stoop, practically in a cold sweat because he was about to go on a first date—one chaperoned by a seventy-three-year-old woman no less—worried that he would somehow blow it and Pippa would change her mind . . . “Yeah, Sawyer, this one’s for you,” he muttered.
He was the smooth one, the flirty one, the one who was always at ease with the opposite sex. He was the world’s best wingman. He realized now why he’d never once felt that kind of easy, smooth flirtatiousness with Pippa.
Because no one else has mattered until now.
It wa
s the truth. And the fact that she’d talked about them starting something with the caveat that it would either work or it wouldn’t, and they’d just figure that out when the time came for her to leave ... Yeah, not exactly a balm to his ever-increasing anxiety.
“Are you going to go on in, or stand there like a wet-behind-the-ears twelve-year-old? Jake McCall has more swag than you.”
Seth turned to find Addie coming up the walk with an armload of firewood. “What do you know about swag?” he asked, chuckling.
Addie was a short, septuagenarian hippie, with narrow shoulders and sturdy legs, who favored tie-died T-shirts and cut-off olive-green army shorts, the bottom edges of which ended below her bony knees but above her laced up leather hiking boots. She wore her long gray hair in a braid that dropped all the way past her wide waist, to brush her flat-asa-pancake fanny. The top of her head might barely come to his chest, but she was a force to be reckoned with. “I was born with swag, sonny,” she said, then sent him a wink.
Seth had already put down the wine bottles and hopped off the porch so he could relieve her of the load. “I thought Sawyer got you that firewood wagon thing.”
“Thing’s one word for it,” she said. “I’ve carried wood inside my house all of my adult life, and a good couple of years before that. I don’t need some silly trolley designed for yuppie campers. I made a planter out of it. Looks real nice out back. The day I can’t fill my own wood-burning stove—”
“Is the day you let Bailey do it,” Seth said, then slipped the stack from her arms and winked at her. “Or me. I think you’ve earned the right to delegate the heavy lifting.”
She just waved his comment away, but went on up the walkway in front of him. She pushed open the front door, then picked up the bottles of wine and held the screen door open for him.
Seth leaned down and brushed a kiss on her cheek as he went by. “Beautiful as ever,” he told her. “Swagalicious.”
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