Tangled in Time, (Miss Main Street Book 1)

by Angela Castillo

  Something under the counter stirred, and a little white nose poked out of a pile of blankets. “Maa!”

  “Humphrey, are you awake? Might as well come out to say hello.” Agatha pulled back the blanket to reveal a tiny kid goat.

  The animal rose to shaky feet and swiveled its head to stare at Darcy. Brown splotches covered his body, and his long ears hung down like those of a basset hound.

  “Aren’t you darling!” Darcy held out her hand, and the little goat sniffed her fingers, his nose velvety soft against her skin.

  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to feed him right now.” Agatha took out a bottle of milk from the sink and held it out to Humphrey, who began to suck it down in greedy gulps. “His mother decided not to care for him, poor little thing.”

  “Must be fun to have him here with you, though,” said Darcy.

  “Fun as a firecracker in a church service.” Agatha pulled the now-empty bottle away and set it on the counter. “That’s enough for you, little one.”

  The goat butted her shin a few times and then lay back down on his blanket, hiding his face under the cloth.

  Darcy bent to examine a basket full of rough-cut bars of soap. “I’m so glad to find a source for homemade soap right next door to my shop. What would you recommend?”

  “Let’s see. You might like this kind.” Agatha bustled over and pulled out a creamy white bar. “Made with milk from my goats and infused with lavender. Lavender is wonderful for stress relief.” She looked at Darcy sharply as though examining her for signs of ailment and pulled out a white bar with green specks. “This one’s lemongrass. Not everyone’s favorite but I love it.”

  Darcy gave a tentative sniff and smiled. “Perfect. I’ll take both, please.” She reached into her pocket. “Oh dear. I don’t have any cash with me. And really, I probably shouldn’t have walked away from the store. I didn’t even lock up! May I come back for the soap later?”

  “I’m not going anywhere, unless my sisters find some dire reason to drag me away.” Agatha wrapped the soap in brown paper and tied it with decorative twine. “I’ll hold on to this for you. If I’m not here, just slip five dollars through the mail slot. I’ll put your name on the package and leave it in that wooden chest on the porch.” Resting her elbows on the counter, she tucked her chin into folded hands. “Darcy, so good to have you next door. Your grandma and I were great friends and I believe you and I’ll get on as well.”

  Darcy swallowed back grateful tears. “I believe we will. Thank you for showing me around.” She waved at the pile of blankets. “And goodbye to you, little Humphrey.”

  A silver BMW was parked on the side of the road by the shop. Darcy hurried across the yard and swept through the door. “Hello! Sorry, I had to step out for a moment. Can I help you find something?”

  A shuffle from the back, and then a clatter. Darcy rounded a bookshelf to see a woman bent down, examining the trim near the floor. A cell phone flashed in her hand. “Can I help you?” Darcy asked again.

  The woman jumped to her feet, almost dropping her phone. She smoothed a skirt that must have cost over three hundred dollars.

  Darcy folded her arms. “Mrs. Greer? What are you doing?”

  “Hello.” The woman’s smile wiped away a rather guilty expression. “The door was open and I thought you might be upstairs. I called . . .” She glanced back down at the wall. “I saw this lovely floor trim. I’m a bit of an enthusiast when it comes to old buildings. I thought it was gorgeous and had to get a shot. I hope you don’t mind.”

  While the woman was talking, Darcy noticed she tucked a small plastic bag into her purse.

  “I see.” Darcy couldn’t keep the frost from her voice. “I’m glad you like it. Was there anything else I can help you with today?”

  Vera’s eyes settled on a silver punch bowl. “How much is that? Sometimes I host an open house in my shop. Might be just the thing.”

  “It’s a vintage Sheridan, one of the more difficult to find castings.” Darcy glanced at the tag. “Thirty dollars. Fifty if you would like the dipper and cups.”

  Vera turned a cup over in her hand. “Hmmm. Well, it’s a bit tarnished. I might buy a new set after all.” She turned on her Gucchi heels and sauntered out of the shop, banging the door so hard that the little bell clanged in protest.

  Darcy went back to the corner and turned on her cell phone flash light. She ran it along the area where Vera had been kneeling.

  Sure enough, two paint chips had been removed all the way through the many layers down to the wood. Neither one was larger than a dime, but Darcy knew the area had been smooth before. What is that woman up to?

  Throughout the day, Darcy helped customers and straightened shelves. But she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling Vera had ushered into the store.

  10 in the garden

  M iss Lorinda’s sculpted chestnut curls bobbed as she stirred cream into her coffee. “Saturday is Yorefest, Darcy. You might consider setting some things outside.”

  Darcy blinked. She’d come into the Thursday meeting from a whirlwind day at the shop. “Yorefest? Does Wimber still do that?” Vague memories swept through her mind. Didn’t my parents bring me down here for an event like that when I was nine? Town members had dressed in pioneer clothes. Collectors showed off their vintage farm tools and rusty hand-cranked washing machines. Blacksmiths had demonstrated their skills, children crafted corn husk dolls, and there were historical reenactments every hour. Oh yes. The Incident. Several men dressed as cowboys had been staging a gun battle when a large dog had broken free of its leash and knocked her down. Her favorite dress had been torn to shreds by his churning claws, and she’d had a few cuts and bruises. That was the last time her parents had come down for a spring visit.

  Kayla stirred her tea. “Shop owners along the street are allowed to set up merchandise tables on the sidewalk outside. We get crafters and artists from other states, and thousands of visitors.” She set her spoon on the rim of the dainty saucer and took a small sip.

  Darcy tapped her chin. “It sounds fun. I’ll see if I can get someone to help me run a booth outside, since I’ll still want to be inside my shop, right?

  “That’s how we all manage.” Ms. Travelsham nodded. “My niece comes up from Houston every year. We have a blast and sell books by the stacks.”

  Darcy began to arrange the tables in her mind. “I’m still in the process of sorting through everything, but I have lots of smaller items I could put out.”

  “So.” Miss Lorinda leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I saw Vera Greer’s car outside your shop a few days ago. What did that crazy lady want? Trying to scalp another collectable from you?”

  Darcy wrinkled her nose. “I’m not quite sure. I caught her scraping paint off my trim.”

  “The nerve!” Ms. Travelsham gasped. “What was she thinking?”

  Darcy shrugged. “No idea. I can’t understand why she’d be bothering me. I don’t pose a threat to her shop. I don’t even sell clothes, unless you count vintage hats and gloves. I can’t see how those would be a huge competition for her business.”

  Knitting needles clicked from the corner where Lila Wilkes stitched and purled as though her life depended on it. “She doesn’t need a reason, but she might be out for revenge because you wouldn’t sell her that item for cheap. That’s Vera Greer for you.” Lila’s eyebrows drew together behind the lenses of her fifties-style horn-rimmed glasses.

  Darcy frowned. “What makes you say that? I’ll admit I get some bad vibes from her, but why does everyone dislike her so much?”

  “She takes advantage of folks.” Ms. Travelsham folded her arms. “Tried to tell me my Robert Frost wasn’t an original signature. She wanted a four-hundred dollar book for ten dollars and I knew she’d turn right around and sell it on Ebay.”

  “She said my roses were second rate.” Lila snorted. “Imagine that. I have the finest distributor in Texas. If they don’t send me the best, I return them. Check my Yelp page. Almost perfe
ct ratings!”

  Agatha held up her hands. “Now, we shouldn’t say things about folks behind their backs. Let’s think of good stuff to talk about.” She pulled a bar of soap from a patchwork bag by her feet. “Ya’ll let me know what you think of this horsemint scent. I don’t think it’s quite right yet.”

  During the soap inspection Darcy sat back in the cushions and pondered the information about Vera. Most of the people in the town dealt with problems as they came, in the open. They talked things over, and even got mad sometimes, but in the end things usually sorted themselves out and everyone shook hands. But Vera was different.

  I wonder what she’s really after? Oh well, I’ve done nothing wrong, so I have nothing to worry about. Right? Darcy sighed and turned her attention back to the meeting.

  ###

  Darcy finished cleaning up her shop for the day. A customer had brought in a box of brassware to consign, and she arranged it on an empty shelf, spreading out the items to make it look like there were more. I’ll have to tackle the sheds tomorrow. The shelves need to be filled before the Yorefest and I’m running out of inventory. I suppose that’s a good thing. Her shoulders sagged. Those sheds would be a challenge. How long it had been since Gran even looked out there? I’ll wear my boots and thick leather gloves. Hopefully there won’t be roaches. Or rats! She shuddered.

  A cheerful melody sounded from the counter, and she grabbed her phone. Ramsey. He’d been out of town at a men’s church conference for the week. She swiped the green button as she headed up the stairs to the apartment.

  “Hello?” She cradled the phone under her chin while she poured herself a bowl of cereal.

  “Hey, Darcy. Want to get some dinner Friday night?” Ramsey spoke above shop noise in the background.

  “Oh--okay.” She smiled at his care to still not to use the words ‘go out’ or ‘date.’ “But you’ll have to pick the place. The only restaurants I’ve tried are the fast food joints within a mile of the shop and Kayla’s cafe, of course.”

  “We have lots of choices. Italian, home cooking, Mexican--and burgers, but let’s not get too fancy.” A grin seeped into his voice.

  “I’m fine with Italian.” Darcy almost tripped over Linus as he threaded through her legs, meowing for dinner. She grabbed a can of his food and popped open the lid. Wrinkling her nose, she dumped the stinky mess into his bowl.

  “Italian it is. Shall we go around seven?”

  “Seven would be fine. But I can’t be out too long. I’ve decided to set up a booth for Yorefest, and I’m sure I’ll have tons of last minute things to do.”

  “Oh yes, Yorefest. I’d almost forgotten. Nearly as fun as Fourth of July. Remember how I won the pie eating contest that one year? I was what, fourteen?”

  She laughed and took her bowl of cereal down the hall into Gran’s room. “How could I forget? I won the skeet shooting contest. I came over to read to you the next day because you got sick.”

  “I didn’t want pie for a long time after that. And I never read Nancy Drew again. I just hear the word ‘trapped and feel queasy.”

  “What did you do at the church conference? Any skeet shooting there?” Darcy asked. She ate her cereal in small bites so Ramsey wouldn’t hear, while she stared at the mysterious locked door.

  Darcy’s family went to church, but the white-walled mega church they’d attended since she could remember seemed stiff and formal. Darcy preferred Wimber’s community church. She’d wanted to go every week but something had always come up. She resolved to go this Sunday, no matter how tired she was after Yorefest. Even though she’d never felt like her relationship with God was based on whether or not she went to church, the community and fellowship made her feel closer to Him.

  “Nope, but that would have been fun. I did catch the biggest fish. We all had a great time.” Ramsey said. “They do a woman’s retreat in the summer. You ought to go.”

  “Sounds good,” said Darcy. Her eyes stayed fixed on the ornate door, following every ridge and carving. Should I ask Ramsey to help? He’s a mechanic. He might even be able to get it open. She resolved to bring it up on their non-date. “I’ll have to see if I can get someone to run the store if I go on the retreat. Five days would be a long time to be gone.”

  “Let’s hope you’re so busy you’ll have to hire lots more employees by then,” said Ramsey.

  “Oooh, that would be lovely.” Darcy stared at her empty bowl sadly. That had been the last of her marshmallow cereal.

  She checked out the window. Still a few minutes of daylight left. “I forgot to water the back garden. I’d better do it. I’d hate to lose any of the trees.”

  “All right,” came Ramsey’s voice.

  A flash of coral pink caught her eye as she turned away, and she stared through the pane toward the front of the store. A woman, in a smart pantsuit, peering over the fence.

  “Ramsey,” she whispered. “Vera’s here, spying again.”

  “What?” he whispered back. “Where?”

  “Why are you whispering?” she held back a giggle. “You’re on the phone.”

  “Oh yeah,” he said in a normal voice. “Well, does she see you?”

  “I don’t think so. Wonder what she’s up to?”

  “Probably nothing good,” he said darkly.

  “I’m putting the phone on video. Will you do the same?”

  His puzzled frown lit up the screen. “What are you thinking, Darcy?”

  “Here.” She propped up the phone so he could see through the window. “Can you see Vera?”

  “Just barely,” he replied. “Turn me to the left a bit.”

  “Stay there,” she said as she adjusted the device. “I’ll be right back.”

  She tiptoed down the stairs and out the back door, praying the old hinges wouldn’t squeak. Shaking with suppressed, nervous laughter, she grabbed the garden hose and turned it on full force. The water shot out and she aimed it towards the side fence where Vera had been hiding.

  A yelp came from behind the bushes. Loose rocks rolled towards Darcy from under the fence, and high-heeled shoes clicked away.

  All was silent.

  Darcy stuck the water hose by the roots of a giant oak tree to soak and ran back upstairs.

  Ramsey was roaring with laughter. “Her face!” He wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his work shirt. “I only wish you could have seen her face!”

  Darcy sank back on the bed, gasping. “I can’t breathe! Oh, that was so evil!” She sat up. “I probably shouldn’t have done that. Wow, what am I, ten?”

  “Aw, come on, you barely even splattered her. The first drop landed and she was off like a shot.” Ramsey chuckled. “I didn’t know anyone could run that fast in heels.”

  Darcy drummed her fingers on the nightstand. “Still, I should be less impulsive. That’s what my father would say.”

  “Eh, but then you’d be predictable and boring. What’s the fun in that?” Ramsey’s eyes softened. “No, you stay just the way you are, Darcy Norman.”

  11 AN UNFORTUNATE OCCURENCE

  A s usual, Darcy found herself multi-tasking, holding her phone while she threw clothes on the bed. “Can you come to the shop? The back door is open. I’m upstairs.”

  Kayla paused on the other line. “Ida May might be a bit irked to have to do dishes by herself, but that’s why I pay her the big bucks. I’ll be right over.”

  Right when Darcy hung up, her phone buzzed again. Her father’s number blinked on her screen. I’ll call him later. I’m in the middle of a crisis.

  Sitting down on the chair by her desk, she surveyed the carefully selected garments. Some of the outfits had been scavenged from sample sales and still had the tags on them. A few sparkly cocktail dresses glowed amongst the jeans and blouses. She’d be laughed right out of Wimber if she wore them to even the fanciest restaurant in town, which was still the type of place that had a Sunday lunch buffet. No. Her non-date wouldn’t consist of waiters in tuxes or string quartet. An eatery like that didn’t exis
t anywhere around here, not for hundreds of miles.

  Her tried and true date outfit, a pretty red top with a black pencil skirt, lay at the very end of the line-up, and she smoothed it out.

  “Organizing your closet?” Kayla came in the door. Though her cafe apron was gone, she still had a smudge of flour on her cheek.

  Darcy gave her friend a quick hug. “Thanks for coming! Nope, not cleaning up, even though I need to. Ramsey asked me out to dinner and I can’t decide what to wear. I’m still feeling out Wimber society as a grown-up.”

  “Oooh, a hot date.” Kayla picked up a black silk dress and held it up. “I know where to come if I need to borrow dancin’ clothes.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not that Glen would want to go anywhere fancy. He hasn’t taken me on a date in a coon’s age. Sometimes I really think I should kick him out of my life.” A slow smile spread across her face. “But then he buys me a rose on the way home or tells me I’m pretty. It’s hard to decide.”

  “I know what you mean,” Darcy murmured.

  Kayla shrugged. “I’d miss the big lug, that’s for sure.” She nodded to the skirt and red blouse. “That’s pretty, and not too fancy even for Wimber.”

  “I think so too.” Darcy sighed. “But it’s the outfit I wore on my last date with Jared. It’s silly, but I don’t want to feel like I’m rebounding.”

  Kayla pushed a few dresses out of the way and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Are you? Rebounding, I mean?”

  “Absolutely not. If anything, I’m taking things slower than Ramsey wants. I told him I wasn’t ready for a relationship yet. My life has been crazy with the shop opening and so many changes. I need some time to figure out who I am right now.” Darcy turned back to the closet so Kayla wouldn’t see her lips trembling.

  Kayla fiddled with a necklace on the dresser top. “That’s understandable, but I saw the look on Ramsey’s face the other day at the shop. I can tell he really cares about you, and he’s been hurt so badly before. How much longer do you think he’ll wait?”