Tangled in Time, (Miss Main Street Book 1)

by Angela Castillo

  “If I remember right, it wasn’t even Howie’s bank,” Ms. Travelsham snorted.

  Lila chuckled. “No, it wasn’t. My daddy said they began racing to see who could get in line first on Monday mornings. Then they started bringing her gifts. Pretty soon you could barely see Connie’s teller station for all the flowers.”

  “How did Connie feel about all the attention?” asked Darcy.

  Ms. Travelsham picked fuzz off the arm of the chair. “She was flattered, at first. But after a while, things got a bit crazy. Neither man would get up the gumption to ask her out. One fateful day Allen tripped over his own big feet and stumbled into Howie in the bank line--or was it the other way around? Depends on who tells the story. Anyway, before anyone could stop them, the boys were having an old-fashioned fist fight on the bank’s green industrial carpet.”

  “The same carpet the bank has today,” Miss Lorinda said. “They were kicked out, of course. But not before Connie closed down her teller station for good. Rather shy woman, after all. She ran out of that bank like a dog with its tail on fire and never came back.”

  “Poor woman.” Darcy shook her head.

  “Don’t feel sorry for her, dear,” said Agatha. “She married a handsome pilot and had five children. But after she left, Howie and Allen pulled no punches. They each blamed the other for destroying their one chance for eternal happiness. One day, Howie came home to find his wire fence snipped right down the middle and his cows scattered out in the road. Took half the town to round them up and bring them back. Then Allen’s new pecan trees got knocked down all in a row, even though it could have been his old mare that pushed them over. She’d lean against them to scratch her sides sometimes. Then Howie’s back shed burned to the ground. Whether by local boys or one of the feuding men, no one knows. But the police still get called out there every few weeks. After thirty years, those two men are just paranoid. A rat can’t run across the road but they blame the other one for it.”

  “Oh well.” Lila held up the sweater she was knitting and examined it in the window light. “It’s not like there’s much for the police to do around here, anyway.”

  “Yeah, we’re a pretty boring town most of the time. But don’t forget to watch for shoplifters.” Ms. Travelsham shook her silver scissors. “Especially you, Darcy. Keep those vintage rings locked up in that showcase.”

  After the meeting, Kayla and Darcy headed back to the shops. The stars were bleeding through a grayish-purple sky, and a few late evening hummingbirds zipped by the honeysuckle to grab last sips of nectar.

  “I never asked what happened the other night. Do you want to talk about it?” Kayla plucked a white honeysuckle blossom and sniffed it.

  Darcy’s shoulders slumped. “Wow. So much has happened. Where to begin. My dad flew down with my ex-boyfriend. Right when Ramsey came to pick me up. I tried to leave with him anyway, but he got upset and left.”

  Kayla whirled around. “Why did he get so mad? Surely he could see you had nothing to do with the situation.”

  “He didn’t really give me a chance to explain, but I don’t blame him. I should have told him about Jared at the beginning.”

  Kayla touched the honeysuckle to her tongue. “I wonder if the lady I buy jam from has ever tried to make honeysuckle jelly? Or syrup.” She glanced over at Darcy. “That’s silly. You had no obligation to tell him anything. You aren’t even officially together. On the other hand, I can see why he’s so jumpy because of everything that happened with Veronica. I mean, your ex-boyfriend ruined your date. It’s pretty bad.”

  “I know.” Darcy twisted her purse strap around her finger. “I went to meet them last night because my dad said I owed Jared an apology. But I’ve been focusing on the wrong relationship, Kayla.”

  Kayla sucked in her cheeks. “Well, they kind of threw it in your face. And parents can guilt like no one else. You poor thing, no wonder you called me to pick you up.”

  “Thanks again, by the way.” Darcy stared down at the sidewalk, where a busy line of ants carried bits of leaves from the shrubbery. “I’ll be surprised if Ramsey ever says another word to me.”

  Kayla paused on the cafe steps and pulled out her key. “I wouldn’t be too shocked.” She nodded to the front porch of the antique shop.

  Ramsey sat on the steps, his chin resting on his hands. As Darcy approached, he looked up. “Hey there. Couldn’t get you on your phone, but then I remembered about your meeting. Your dad and—that other guy still here?”

  Darcy rolled her eyes. “Absolutely not. Ramsey. I’m so sorry. I was ambushed, and that’s the honest truth. I tried so hard not to hurt you, and it happened anyway.”

  Ramsey’s brow furrowed under his ball cap. “Isn’t that life? We always dance around, trying not to hurt anyone. Sometimes silence hurts most of all.”

  Darcy sat down beside him. She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until a long sigh escaped from her lips.

  The familiar silence settled, but this time something hung in it. Something twisted, brooding. Darcy fought the ridiculous urge to strike out, to flail against the bitter thoughts.

  Ramsey shifted on the step. “Ah, Darcy. I hoped. It was silly to hope.”

  “Please.” To Darcy’s dismay, a tear trickled down her check and dropped off the end of her nose. “I’ve had a horrible last two days.” She sniffed and pulled a tissue from her purse. “I should have told you. And you shouldn’t have gotten so angry. Could we please just pretend like they never happened?”

  Ramsey shook his head. “That would be impossible.”

  “Really?” Darcy hung her head.

  A sudden grin broke through the thundercloud that had settled over Ramsey’s face. “Yeah, because I wouldn’t have missed that wiener dog race for the world. Dad said he saw you watching in the crowd.” He crooked his elbow. “Care for a walk? It’s a nice night.”

  “All right.” Her hands trembled as she wrapped her fingers around his arm.

  They strolled back down the road, past Vera’s crazy shop with its garish, colorful clothing in the lit-up window, around Lila’s florist shop, past the bank and post office, and towards a little lane lined with white board fences. The moon shone down like a round porthole to another world.

  “I came by to apologize. I should’ve heard you out,” said Ramsey finally.

  “Yes.” Darcy let go of his elbow, leaned against a tree and folded her arms.

  He stood, hands dangling at his sides. “So, you aren’t with this Jared guy anymore?”

  “No. We were together for two years. Right out of college. I honestly don’t know why I stayed with him so long. He didn’t care much about me. All he thought about was golf and his job and how much money he was going to make every year.” She glanced up at Ramsey, whose face was softening again. “I would have told you, it’s not like I was keeping it a secret. I had just come down and started running the shop. I never imagined you’d be available. You asked me on--outings, and--I don’t know.” She pressed back against the tree, rough bark digging into her shoulders. “What are you thinking?”

  Ramsey pulled off his baseball cap and pushed back the lock of hair that always fell in front of his eyes. “The same thing I’ve thought since I was fifteen years old on nights like this with you. The moonlight is magical, and it would be a shame to waste.”

  Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes and let the light wash over her. “Yes. It is, isn’t it?” She peeked at him beneath her eyelashes.

  Ramsey stepped forward and folded her into his arms. He pulled her tighter and she buried her cheek in his white t-shirt. His heart thumped beneath her skin.

  Then he tilted her chin up and covered her lips with his.

  The kiss was different than the one she’d carried with her all those years. Stronger, certain, but gentle and full of more passion than she’d ever felt in a kiss.

  He pulled back and studied her face. “Was that all right?”

  Darcy shivered despite the warm night. “Perfec
t.”

  ###

  That night, Darcy stayed up late watching black and white episodes of I Love Lucy on Gran’s VCR. While Lucy cooked up schemes to be in Ricky’s show, Darcy fiddled around with the Labyrinth. Several times she thought she’d get the little white ball through the last slot, but like always, every time it would be halted as if by some invisible force and go the opposite direction from the end.

  “I know this thing used to work when I was a kid,” she said Linus, who was curled up on the sofa at her feet. “I don’t want to break the maze. If the shop isn’t too busy tomorrow, I’ll take it down and try to fix it at the counter.”

  After snapping off the television, she went over to the window and stared down into the back yard. The glass was cool against her palm, and she tugged the pane open and put the ancient ruler that always sat on the windowsill under the metal lip to prop it up.

  A slight breeze wafted against her skin and tickled her eyelashes. Lights from the playground at the end of the park twinkled through the trees, and she remembered when Ramsey dared her to take a flying leap from the swing at the highest it would go. I twisted my ankle, but the flight was glorious.

  Someone was singing, down on Agatha’s side, by her shop. Darcy’s ears perked up. Sometimes Agatha did come later in the evening, to grab a tonic for a friend. The sound was low and clear, gathering strength as the words drifted together.

  “There’s within my heart a melody,

  Jesus whispers sweet and low,

  ‘Fear not, I am with thee, peace be still,

  In all of life’s ebb and flow.’”

  Darcy gasped. Though she knew the voice had to be Agatha’s, the song was one Gran sang to her as a lullaby when she was a little girl. “Gran,” she whispered, a sob catching in her throat. “I know Jesus is here with me, but why did you have to go? I miss you so much.”

  She went to her bed and tried to close her eyes, but the last few week’s events pushed through her mind, like scrabbling fingers trying to find a hold. Vera Greer. What was she after? Her father and Jared. Both of them so alike, assuming she would run back like a petulant little girl.

  And Ramsey... her lips tingled from his touch. The glow of his warmth on her hands still lingered. She had known it from the moment she’d seen him again. They were meant to be. Somehow, they would make this work. She would shed the remains of her shallow California life and change into a new creature, a winged thing that could enjoy flight and freedom.

  “Even if it has a slight scent of mechanic shop,” she murmured as she finally drifted off to sleep.

  15 THE INSPECTION

  J une pulled a bundle of cloudy lace from the shop’s vintage fabric section and examined it in the light. “Lovely! I think this will work for Cathy’s veil. She’ll be thrilled.”

  Burt puttered over in his scooter, Trixie dancing at his wheels. “Isn’t Cathy gettin’ hitched this Saturday? Aren’t you cuttin’ things a little bit close?”

  “Come on, Burt.” June swatted his shoulder with a paper fan. “It’s no fun unless it’s an emergency.”

  “A lady brought in that whole box of stuff a few days ago.” Darcy took the lace from June and set it on the counter in her growing pile. “If you like, I can put your name down and call you when people give me material I think you might be interested in.”

  June’s cheeks glowed with her smile. “That would be great. I have all kinds of requests, from top hats to real Victorian bustles. You wouldn’t even believe what people ask for.”

  Burt’s bushy eyebrows drew together. “Now I am hurt, Darcy. You don’t have my name down on any fancy list.”

  “That’s because you’d want me to call you for everything,” said Darcy. “Besides, you’re in here every day.”

  Burt laughed. “Well, that’s the truth, but it’s only because of those dog biscuits you have for Trixie. She’d be disappointed if she didn’t get one.”

  “I’ll be making you a wedding dress one of these days, Darcy.” June unrolled a spool of silk ribbon, winding it over her arm. “Don’t forget, I’ll need at least two months warning. And Christmas is a busy season.”

  Heat crept up the back of Darcy’s neck. “I—I don’t think I’ll need your services any time soon, but I’ll let you know.”

  Burt winked at June. “Whatever she says, right?”

  “Have either of you seen the new collection of cut glass vases over here? I’ve been trying to figure out their origin. No maker’s mark on the bottom, and no source of information from the seller.” Darcy led them over to a tall shelf. She breathed a sigh of relief as the tall woman and the burly man began to discuss the glassware. Can’t hide anything in this town.

  The shop had been busy all day with late wildflower seeking tourists coming in from the heat. Women fanned themselves with informational pamphlets from the small Wimber museum while their husbands examined antique farm tools with appraising eyes.

  Darcy tapped her pencil against the smooth wooden counter in a stilted rhythm. Despite the success of the last several days, her heart was heavy. On Monday, Agatha brought over the Wimber Watch newspaper. A ‘Concerned Citizen’ had written a letter to the editor with concerns about structure stability. Friday, a representative of the fire department had come in after an anonymous complaint about combustibles. Apparently, someone informed them Darcy might be selling live hand grenades.

  “Anonymous, my eye,” Darcy muttered. The fire inspector had examined a few bowie knives and a rusty pitch fork, rolled his eyes, and left.

  “What’s that?” Burt rolled up to the counter and laid a leather satchel on the smooth glass surface.

  “Oh, nothing.” Darcy handed him a dog biscuit from the stash she kept under the counter. “Did you find something you can’t live without?”

  “You know it.” Burt smiled. “I think it’s the perfect thing for Trixie’s treats, don’t you?”

  Darcy snapped it open and smoothed the red velvet liner. “Tell me the truth, Burt, is this for Trixie, or for your fishing lures?”

  He shrugged. “Well now, she’s a little bitty thing. I figure her rawhide won’t take up all the space.”

  After a while, customers dwindled out in search of lunch and Darcy sagged into her folding chair. I’m going to have to call Mrs. Johnson to come help me so I can get out to the shed. Otherwise, I’ll have nothing left to sell. By the time evening came each day, she barely had the energy to go up the stairs, eat a quick meal, and plop into bed. Gran made it look so much easier. At least she had my help in the busy season.

  A short, balding man came through the door. He wore a denim shirt with a patch over the left pocket and carried a black briefcase. Stepping up to the counter, he blinked at Darcy through wire-rimmed spectacles. “My name is Bradley Cole. I’m from the health department.”

  Darcy’s mouth went dry. “I beg your pardon?”

  Mr. Cole pulled a name tag out from under his shirt and held it up. Then he slid the briefcase over the counter, pulled out a stack of papers, and handed them to Darcy. “Ma’am, we’ve received a formal complaint about the lead paint content in your shop. According to Texas law, older buildings can be exempt, but it’s still customary to come out and check when someone comes forth with a concern.”

  Darcy’s fingers shook while she ruffled through the papers. The words blurred together in intelligible black streaks. “Can you tell me who filed the complaint?”

  “We have been asked to keep that information private.” The inspector scratched his walrus mustache.

  Darcy put her hands on her hips. “Is that so? Well, it doesn’t matter. My grandma had all the lead removed or painted over according to health standards. If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll go find you the papers.” Darcy swept out from behind the desk.

  The inspector frowned. “This person said she suspected a serious risk. She provided samples.”

  She? Huh. Darcy stomped to the cabinet at the opposite end of the shop, by the corner where she had noticed the missing
paint chip. After flipping through a drawer of papers, she pulled out a thick file folder. “Gran had an inspection done a few years ago right after the new lead laws were passed. She went ahead and paid a company to come in and make it safe.” Darcy handed the papers to the inspector. “The deed here proves this place is much older than the 70 years required by law. My grandpa died from lung cancer due to secondhand smoke from his job, and even though it’s not the same thing, Gran was very concerned about lung and breathing issues.”

  The inspector glanced through the papers. “These do appear to be in order.” He clicked his pen. “Since I’m here, I suppose you wouldn’t object to me having a look around?”

  Darcy waved her hand. “Be my guest, Mr. Cole.”

  He drew a small device from his briefcase that resembled a cashier’s price gun. “This is an XRF gun. It’ll tell me if there’s any exposed lead paint we need to worry about.” After walking around the shelves, he bent down to examine the floor joists and window sills. A few minutes later, he came back to the counter. “Looks fine in here.”

  Darcy exhaled, sending a stack of papers across the counter. “I’m glad to hear that. I wish you could tell me why Vera Greer is after me.”

  The man’s shoulders stiffened. “Like I said, I’m not at liberty to discuss such matters. If you don’t mind, I’m going outside to check the exterior.”

  “Have fun.” Darcy gave a little wave as he stepped out the back door.

  What could Vera possibly be so angry about? Could she really be angry about that time I wouldn’t give her a discount on the vase? The old lesson about turning the other cheek came to her mind. Maybe I should put the extra money in an envelope and leave it on her doorstep. Perhaps she’d stop harassing me then. God, what should I do?

  The bell over the door jingled again, and an elderly couple walked in. They stopped short at the front staircase like most newcomers to the shop.