Home to Sparrow Lake (Harlequin Heartwarming)

by Lynn Patrick

  Her pulse quickened, and she was about to demand an answer, when he said, “When I drove around back, I noticed the glass in that window was still missing.”

  “And?”

  “I wondered why.”

  “And I’ve been wondering why Aunt Margaret’s handyman hasn’t returned my calls. Three of them.” She couldn’t help sounding a little exasperated. “That’s why. So is having a window with no glass illegal in Sparrow Lake?”

  “Just risky. You never know who might try to crawl in through an open window.”

  Heat rose along her neck as she remembered the way he’d caught her the night before. Did he enjoy embarrassing her? She thought so.

  “Thanks for the observation, Chief, but as long as it’s not illegal…”

  She didn’t finish the statement. His eyebrows flashed upward over the tops of his sunglasses, and he looked as if he wanted to say something more. But in the end, he gave her one of those sarcastic smiles that irritated her and touched the front of his cap before backing off.

  “Have a good day, ma’am.”

  She stood there, feet glued to the curb, as he got into the patrol car and drove off. No man had ever made her feel so uptight before. What was with that? Tension gradually flowed out of her body, and she retreated back inside the store.

  Now what had she been doing before she’d seen Alex out there? Oh, right, taking a mental inventory of the store’s wares. Her mind had gone blank. Instead of product, it was filled with Alex Novak’s face. The way his mouth always seemed ready to curl in a smile. Or was it a smirk? She shook away the image and forced herself to concentrate on work.

  Happy to see that Brian was gathering items to fulfill those orders, she went back to the office area to search the internet for the computer program that she wanted to install.

  Glancing back to Brian, however, she hesitated. Rather than working, he was now reading something on his cell phone. She knew he was into the whole social networking thing. He was always checking his phone and sending off messages to his friends. Nothing wrong with that—all the kids and many adults did it—but he was supposed to be working now. About to say so, Kristen stopped when Brian slipped the cell back into his pocket and got to work on an order.

  Okay, then. Back to work for her.

  She had the ability to concentrate even in the midst of chaos. Sew Fine was fairly calm compared to the office she’d last worked in. As she clicked on internet links to check out several potential programs, she heard the entrance door opening and closing, customer questions being answered about the pros and cons of using patterns as opposed to kits, soft laughter coming from someone at the other end of the store. Nothing affected her concentration.

  Not until a jarring noise came from directly behind her on the other side of the back wall, as if someone was stomping on loose boards.

  Kristen tried to ignore the noise, and for a moment it went away. Then a rough, grating sound scraped straight down her spine.

  “What the…?”

  She turned to see movement on the other side of the broken window. Had the handyman simply shown up and started the job without telling anyone? But wait…the person wielding a tool that scraped the frame was dressed in black.

  Suspicion made her hackles rise. Lunging out of her chair, she made for the back door and threw it open only to find Alex, a rectangle of glass in hand, standing on the Dumpster. He was trying to set glass into the empty window pane.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He gave her a quick glance before returning his attention to his task. “You’re welcome.”

  “I didn’t thank you.”

  He sighed. “I figured you wouldn’t, but that doesn’t stop me from being polite.”

  Realizing she’d let her temper best her when it seemed he was simply trying to do her a favor, Kristen took a big breath to calm herself. What was wrong with her? She never used to be like this. Then, again, she’d never run into an Alex Novak before. Now he was using some kind of a tool to push little pieces of metal into the frame, undoubtedly meant to hold the glass in place.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” she said and meant it. “You just…well, kind of startled me, is all.”

  He glanced her way again and grinned. “You weren’t ready for me, huh?”

  Not sure any woman would be, she asked, “Did Aunt Margaret call you to take care of the window?”

  “No one had to ask me.” He rolled a cord of white stuff around the glass frame and used the tool to press it in place. “I could see you needed a little help. You couldn’t get Margaret’s handyman to return your calls, and I assumed you wanted the place locked up and the alarm set tonight.”

  “Well, yes, of course.”

  He used another tool to remove any goopy stuff off the glass. “And I don’t want to have to respond to a burglary in progress, so I’m taking the easy way out.”

  Kristen realized he was done when he jumped from the Dumpster and landed next to her. And she realized she’d sounded ungrateful for a charitable act.

  “Well, thank you, Alex. I mean that sincerely.”

  He set the sunglasses back in his hair and cocked his head, his gray eyes going soft as they swept over her face. It put a knot in Kristen’s stomach.

  “You’ll have to get someone to paint the compound and touch up the frame. Wait a couple of days, though, so the compound has time to dry out.”

  “Okay.”

  “In the meantime, I’ll take a look at your alarm system, make sure it’ll work now.”

  Kristen followed him inside and watched as he pulled a chair under the window and stood on it. Glancing around the store, she realized that no one was paying them any mind. Alex checked something attached to the window frame then stepped down.

  “Looks all right,” he said, returning the chair to where he found it.

  “Well, thank you again.”

  She noticed his attention was elsewhere. He wore a speculative expression. Alex seemed to be focused on Brian, who was still working on filling those orders. Undoubtedly he was surprised to see a teenage boy working in a store frequented mostly by women.

  When Alex turned his gaze back to her, Kristen said, “If there’s ever anything I can do for you—”

  “There is.” A slow, easy grin lit his face. “You can have dinner with me.”

  Though her pulse fluttered at the thought, she frowned in response. “Dinner?”

  “You know, that’s when you eat to satisfy those hunger pangs in the evening hours.”

  “Um, I don’t—”

  “Eat?”

  “I was going to say that I don’t think it would be appropriate.”

  “Which part?”

  “My dating you to pay you for fixing the glass.”

  “That’s not exactly what I was asking you to do.”

  “What, then?”

  “I just want to get to know you better.”

  Tempted, Kristen swallowed hard. She had to admit the police chief had more going for him than she’d first thought and not just in the looks department. He might be a little snarky at times, but he was a well-intentioned person. His fixing the window had been very thoughtful. But she’d had a purpose in moving to Sparrow Lake, and it certainly wasn’t to find a man. She wasn’t going to be here that long, anyway. A few months at most. Getting involved romantically would just complicate things.

  Alex cleared his throat. “About dinner?”

  “I appreciate your interest, but I don’t think it’s a good idea under any circumstances.”

  His expression went neutral when he asked, “Any particular reason?”

  Realizing she might have offended the man again, Kristen assured him, “It’s not you, Alex. I simply have too much on my plate right now to be indulging in any kind of extracurricular activities.”

  “Wow, that sounds sad.”

  “What’s sad about my being focused?”

  “On work?”

  “Aren’t you focused on your jo
b?” Which he ought to be, considering he was chief of police, Kristen thought.

  “Within reason. But…hey, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’ll just leave now.”

  “Good… I mean…all right. And thanks again.”

  If he heard her, he didn’t respond, simply headed out the door.

  And Kristen quickly deflated. Turning back to her computer, she realized Aunt Margaret was standing there, had probably caught the whole show.

  “Aunt Margaret, I didn’t realize you were coming in this afternoon.”

  “I just came back from my meeting with the dean.”

  Indeed, Aunt Margaret was dressed more conventionally than usual in a skirted suit. Of course, she’d added a purple-and-blue flower-print blouse and matching earrings.

  “So what are you doing here?”

  “I just thought I would check in to see how things were going.” Aunt Margaret arched her eyebrows. “Which seems to be in an interesting direction for you.”

  Desperate to get her aunt talking about anything but Alex, Kristen asked, “How did your meeting go?”

  Her aunt gave her a look that said she knew Kristen was avoiding. Then she said, “Dean Whitiker was very cordial, and of course he understood that I needed time to do other things.”

  “So you’ll still be able to teach a few classes if you want?”

  “He seemed amenable to the idea.” Her aunt looked up. “I see the window is fixed. What time did Chuck get here?”

  “Actually, your handyman never got back to me.”

  Appearing surprised, Aunt Margaret asked, “Then how—”

  “Alex.”

  “Really. The chief of police fixed our store window? And how did that happen?”

  Kristen explained, telling her aunt about their earlier encounter and then Alex’s showing up to replace the pane of glass.

  “I do believe he’s sweet on you.”

  “Is not!”

  Her aunt laughed. “You’re certain of that?”

  “Well, it wouldn’t matter if he was.” Kristen threw herself back into her desk chair. “I can’t get involved with anyone from Sparrow Lake.”

  “Why ever not?”

  Hearing her aunt’s indignant tone, Kristen thought she was on a roll, insulting people when she didn’t mean to. She tried to explain in a nonconfrontational way. “I have nothing against anyone here, but you know I’m leaving as soon as I find a new job in Chicago. I have to get my career back on track.” She would show everyone that she could do it. Her former bosses, the business associates who’d no longer had time for her, the friends who’d come to her emotional aid but had looked at her with pity. “I don’t believe in long-distance relationships. They never work out.”

  “Relationships are more important than careers, sweetheart.”

  “You couldn’t prove that by me.”

  “Just remember that a job can’t take you in its arms for a hug when you need one.”

  Her aunt, the romantic, Kristen thought. Aunt Margaret might have found her true love in Donald Becker, but Kristen hadn’t forgotten how Jason had abandoned her in her hour of need.

  Much the same way her father had abandoned his whole family.

  *

  THOUGH SHE’D SWORN she was going to leave the store early that evening, Kristen ended up hanging around long enough for one of the quilting classes to start. Gloria was teaching a beginner/intermediate session in the back and there were five women seated around the large table there. Kristen knew two of the women, but the others had probably moved to town after she’d left for college.

  “This is Margaret’s niece, Kristen,” Gloria told them, her dark eyes bright. “She’s here to help her aunt with the store.”

  Kristen nodded at Nellie Martin, an elderly woman wearing large black-framed glasses. She owned the consignment shop a couple of streets over. “Hi, Nellie, it’s good to see you again. I’ve come to love consignment stores.” She’d frequented a couple in Chicago where she’d gotten most of her designer duds at a significant discount.

  “Well, then, drop by and we’ll get reacquainted,” Nellie told her.

  Kristen moved on to the next woman at the large table, a mousy little middle-aged woman in a gray dress. Emily Auerbach was the mayor’s wife.

  “How nice that you take classes here,” murmured Kristen, to which Emily merely nodded with a tight smile.

  Emily always had been more than a little eccentric, as Kristen had realized when she was a kid. On Halloween one year, Emily had posted “Keep Away” and “No Candy Here” signs on her lawn. The next year she’d decorated. No signs. Still, one of Kristen’s friends had insisted Emily was a real witch, and all the kids had avoided her.

  Gloria introduced her to one of the new women in town—Shara Lessley, a beautiful young African-American woman with a headful of tiny braids. The other was Laurie Jamison, a thin redhead. Kristen tried to connect descriptions with names so she could remember them. Even so, she would be lucky if her tired brain recalled anyone.

  “Are you an artist like your aunt?” Shara asked.

  Kristen shook her head. “Good grief, no. I’m a businesswoman.” She admired the gorgeous metallic printed fabrics Shara was working with. “Is that a quilt?”

  “It’s going to be a quilted wall hanging.”

  “You ought to learn to quilt,” Nellie told Kristen. “It’s not that hard. Just work on a simple square to begin with.”

  “Or a place mat or pillow covering,” Gloria agreed. “I like to see a quilter take on a whole project to begin with, even if it’s small.”

  “I don’t know,” said Kristen with a laugh, happy to realize the women were dedicated to their craft. Her aunt had told her that at least one person from Sew Fine’s classes won a ribbon at the county fair every year. “I’ve never so much as taken up a hem. I don’t think sewing is one of my talents.”

  “Nonsense, everyone can sew if they try.” Gloria raised her brows. “And knowing something about quilting could help you with the business end of things. Why don’t you sit down and join the class?”

  “That would be wonderful,” added Shara, the others nodding in agreement. “We could use some new blood. We’ve been hanging out together for a couple of years now.”

  Then it was more like a quilting circle than a class, Kristen decided. She didn’t want to stay any longer, especially not tonight. However, she agreed to at least drop by the class again next week. Before she left, Gloria plunked a prepackaged kit of color-coordinated strips in her hands.

  “What’s this?”

  “Just take them home and play with the fabric, the colors and the designs.”

  Kristen objected, “Well, I can’t just take this. I have to pay…”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll write the kit down for the records, Ms. Businessperson,” Gloria told her.

  “Well, okay…”

  “Try it, you’ll like it.”

  Gloria sure could be a compelling salesperson, Kristen admitted, heading home. Sew Fine was lucky to have her. Kristen even opened the package of material strips and spread them out on the bed before she went to sleep. In shades of blue and turquoise and contrasting green, they certainly were pretty. But not only was quilting out of her sphere of knowledge, it took too long to finish anything.

  Longer than she would be in Sparrow Lake.

  *

  ALEX WASN’T ONE to give up easily when he wanted something. And it seemed he wanted to get to know Kristen Lange even more than he’d originally realized. Just trying to have a simple conversation with her was a challenge. He could only wonder what spending time with her would be like. Undoubtedly, she would dispute everything the way she had when he’d caught her breaking into Sew Fine.

  If she knew about his current investigation, she wouldn’t be happy. And if she had accepted his dinner invitation, he would have felt obligated to tell her about it, considering her brother was involved.

  Not that Brian Lange seemed like a bad kid.


  Alex had seen how hard Brian was working in the store. And he’d heard Margaret sing the kid’s praises more than once.

  So why was Brian looking for trouble with Matt Stapleton and Andy Eccles?

  Nellie Martin had been the first to make a formal complaint. Someone had mixed a rainbow of clashing colors and styles on the consignment store’s mannequins. One was wearing lingerie on top of its outer clothing, while another sported a purple feather boa over what appeared to be a raincoat. He’d had to force himself to keep a straight face on that one. Women’s styles were so crazy at times, he hadn’t even been certain that mischief was afoot, and Nellie wore a pair of what seemed to be fairly strong glasses. He’d wondered if the aging woman simply had trouble with her eyesight and had dressed the mannequins in dim light, then had been horrified to see her work the next day. After all, there hadn’t been a breakin—Nellie had admitted she’d left in a hurry and may have forgotten to lock up.

  But then the other calls started coming.

  Old Mr. Fergus had risen one morning to find two panels of his picket fence had been pulled out of the ground and were lying neatly on his front lawn. What was he supposed to do? He was too old to put them back himself, and he couldn’t afford to hire someone to do the work.

  Feeling sorry for the old guy, Alex had asked for volunteers at the department to help the man, and both Walt and Jack had agreed to put the fence back together again. While Alex’s officers worked, Mr. Fergus had speculated on who could have done the deed. He’d seen Matt and Andy and “that new boy” hanging around outside at dusk and had thought nothing of it at the time. But after the fence incident, he had wondered, making Alex wonder, too.

  A speculation that had put the spotlight right on the trio as the incidents—and sightings of one or more of the three teenagers—had increased. Alex could only figure they were bored and looking for ways to entertain themselves. If he could actually catch them in the act, he could put the fear of the law in them, force them into choosing reparation and community service or make them go before a judge, something he really didn’t want to do. He simply wanted to change their direction into a more positive one before things got out of hand. Then he would have no choice. He would be forced to arrest them.