Home to Hart's Crossing (4-in-1 Edition)

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  “I’m glad you told me.” She wasn’t sure she meant that. A part of her would have preferred ignorance for a few more hours. Maybe she would have fallen back to sleep. She wouldn’t sleep now, that was certain.

  Dave Coble pinched the brim of his hat between index finger and thumb, gave a brief nod of his head, and turned to walk away. “’Night, Terri.”

  “Good night, Dave.” With a sigh, she closed the front door.

  How bad is it? She had insurance on the building. Where had she put the policy? How much would it cover on the repairs? Oh, Lord. If I can’t work, how can I take care of Lyssa? Where will the money come from?

  * * *

  As soon as Mel heard that a tree had fallen on Terri’s building in the previous night’s storm, he left the bank and walked down Main Street to see if he could be of help. He found Terri, Angie, and Bill standing on the sidewalk at the southwest corner of the salon. Angie’s right arm was around Terri’s shoulders in a comforting embrace, and from the look on Terri’s face, she needed plenty of comfort.

  “Morning, Mel,” Bill said.

  “Morning.” He stopped beside the threesome. “I heard the storm did some damage.” He turned and looked in the direction the others had been staring a short while before. Oh, man. The old gnarled tree that stood between the two buildings had snapped in two, the top crashing down on the roof of Terri’s Tangles Beauty Salon.

  Terri turned toward Angie and pressed her face into the curve of her friend’s shoulder as she wept.

  “Have you been inside yet?” Mel asked Bill softly.

  “Not me, but Terri has.”

  “Come on. Let’s have a look.”

  Bill glanced at his fiancée. “Wait here for us.”

  Angie nodded.

  The two men walked away.

  As soon as they were out of hearing, Mel said, “Is she okay?”

  “Terri? She’s pretty shaken up. She’s worried about the insurance coverage and how soon she’ll be able to return to work.”

  Mel opened the door and stepped inside. Rainwater covered the floor in the main room. The water wasn’t deep but it was enough to do serious damage to the floor and drywall. Bottles of hair care products were scattered across the salon, mingling with twigs, broken tree limbs, dried leaves, and small pink curlers. A thick branch of the fallen tree hung through the ceiling above one of the chairs. Looking up, Mel saw the cloudy sky above the large hole in the roof.

  “We’d better get a tarp over that before it dumps more rain on us,” he said.

  “I was thinking the same thing. I’ll head over to the hardware store to get a tarp and some rope. We’ll need guys with chainsaws, too. I’ll put out the word for help.”

  Mel thought of the expression on Terri’s face. “Maybe you should ask Angie to take her home.”

  “She won’t go.” Bill shook his head. “Trust me on that. She’s tiny, but she’s tough. She’s had to be.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s never had it easy. She lost both parents when she was a teenager. Then she married Vic, who’s a classic deadbeat dad. He doesn’t pay child support so she’s got to financially care for Lyssa on her own. There aren’t any living family members for them to lean on in hard times.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand. “She took a risk, buying this building, but she made it succeed. Now look at it.” He shook his head again. “She’s taking it hard, but she’ll rally. She always does.”

  * * *

  By early afternoon, the rain had passed. Men with chainsaws—under the direction of Larry Tatlock, owner of a local tree service—had cut the broken trunk into sections and stacked the wood in the parking space behind the shop.

  At least I’ll have plenty of firewood next winter, Terri thought as she carried a plastic garbage bag to the Dumpster in the alley.

  Tears threatened, but she swallowed them. She hadn’t any time to give in to self-pity. Besides, look at all the people who’d turned out to help as soon as they heard what happened. She was blessed with many good friends.

  BJ Olson, her insurance agent, had said he would have information for her this afternoon regarding estimates, and Bill Palmer had a friend who was a contractor. Someone else—she didn’t remember who—had said he thought she could be working inside her salon again in two or three weeks. It might be inconvenient with some construction continuing, but it would be doable. She hoped he was right.

  She tossed the trash bag into the blue Dumpster and turned to face the rear of her building. Hers and the Farmers Independent Bank’s building, that is. The mortgage payment for the brick and frame structure wasn’t much, all things considered, but neither was her income most months. If she had to close the salon for two weeks or more…

  Lord, please let the insurance cover the cost of repairs.

  The Idaho Bureau of Occupational Licenses was strict about how and where a licensed cosmetologist practiced her trade. Otherwise, Terri could cut hair in her kitchen until the repairs to the salon were finished. But the law wouldn’t allow her to do that, and she didn’t believe in breaking the law.

  Mel Jenkins exited the back door of the building, packing an armload of branches that he’d cleared from the interior of her salon. At some point during the day, he’d changed from business attire into faded Levi’s and a blue sweatshirt. It was a good look on him.

  He dropped the debris on top of a growing pile of the same, then brushed dried leaves from the front and sleeves of his sweatshirt. When he turned, he saw her. After a moment’s hesitation, he strode forward.

  “How’re you holding up?”

  Oh, those blasted tears! There they were, threatening again. “I’m okay. Thanks.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “School will be out soon. I’m not sure Lyssa should be here during the clean-up.”

  “Why don’t you go on home? There isn’t anything we’re doing that requires you to be here. We’ll make sure nothing important gets tossed out.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Let Angie drive you home,” he said gently. “You’re exhausted. You should get some rest.”

  His image swam before her.

  “Hey.” His hand alighted on her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

  She choked on a sob.

  A heartbeat later, he drew her into his embrace. “It’ll be okay.” He patted her back. “It’ll be okay.”

  Despite her tears, she smiled a little, sensing his uncertainty. It had been a long while since a man held her in his arms. Had it been as long since Mel held a woman the way he was holding her now?

  * * *

  It took every ounce of Mel’s will not to brush the tears from Terri’s cheeks with his thumbs and then kiss her quivering lips. He wanted to comfort her. He wished he could draw her closer, hold on tight, not let her go for a long, long while, not until he could make everything better for her.

  Except he’d learned that he couldn’t always make things better. He couldn’t stop people from hurting, or from dying.

  “Life is hard,” Mel’s mother had often said. “But God is good.”

  For a time, such comments had made him want to rage. How could a good God allow bad, senseless things to happen? Why did the innocent so often suffer? He’d found no human answers to those questions, but somehow, some way, the rage in his heart had ceased. He’d begun to trust again, trust that the God of heaven had a plan and a purpose in all things.

  Terri drew a shuddering breath and stepped back. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to lose it like that.”

  He wished he could pull her into his embrace a second time. He wished he could comfort her a little while longer. Instead, he said, “It’s understandable. You have a tree sitting in your beautician’s chair.”

  That drew a little smile. “You’re kind.”

  “I’m glad I can help.” He motioned with his arm toward Municipal Street. “Now, let’s have Angie take you home.”

  Chapter 7

  “DON’T YOU DARE C
ANCEL,” Angie scolded over the telephone the next afternoon.

  Terri lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t feel like going out.”

  “Of course you don’t, but you need to anyway.”

  “I won’t be a fun date. I’m tired, and I’m worried.”

  “Mel will understand. And going out will take your mind off the salon for a few hours. You need that. Sometimes escape can be a good thing. Instead of thinking about your building’s roof, you can watch Tom Cruise save civilization from the pod people or whatever they are.”

  Worry churned in Terri’s stomach. There was a wide gap between the early estimate for repair costs and what she thought the insurance policy would cover. BJ had told her to relax, that the adjuster wasn’t finished assessing the damage; Terri wasn’t doing a good job of following that particular piece of advice.

  Fear was the opposite of faith. She knew that. Yet fear persisted. She couldn’t keep appointments at her shattered salon, and the law wouldn’t allow her to work out of her home without major renovations.

  The facts were, no appointments, no income. She had some money in savings, but nowhere near enough. She and Lyssa had never done without any necessity. God had been faithful to provide. But if she couldn’t work, what would—

  “Terri, are you listening to me?”

  “What?” She blinked. “Oh…No…Sorry.”

  Angie laughed softly. “I’m taking Lyssa for the night, and you are going out to dinner and a movie with Mel. Get used to it. I’ll see you about 5:00.”

  “Okay. Okay.”

  “That’s a little over an hour from now.”

  “I know. Lyssa will be ready for you.”

  “And you need to get ready, too. You know what I mean. Do something with your hair. Put on some makeup.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. All right. Quit nagging.”

  They said good-bye, and Terri hung up the phone.

  She could have told Angie it wasn’t that kind of date. She liked Mel, but it wasn’t as if she expected fireworks. They barely knew each other. Besides, now wasn’t a good time for her to contemplate romance. Not with her salon wrecked and her money worries. No, she and Mel would probably end up as friends and that would be fine with her. A person could never have too many friends.

  She rose from the bed and crossed the room to the closet, feeling better now that her expectations for the evening had been set in order.

  “Wear that sweater you got in the mail, Mom.”

  Terri glanced over her shoulder to look at Lyssa striding into the bedroom, holding a small bag of chips in her left hand.

  “That one there.” Her daughter pointed to the soft teal sweater Terri had received from a catalog order a couple of weeks before. “It’s almost the same color as your eyes.”

  Terri pulled the sweater, tags still attached, from the shelf in her closet, shook it out, then held it in front of her as she turned to look at her reflection in the mirror. She shouldn’t wear it. She should return it for a refund. Money would be tight for a long while to come. She needed to save and cut corners every way she could. She had plenty of sweaters already, and summer would be here soon. She wouldn’t need her sweaters then.

  “Mr. Jenkins thinks you’re pretty, Mom.”

  “Does he?” She felt a flutter of unanticipated pleasure.

  “Sure.” Lyssa hopped on to her mother’s bed and pretzeled her legs. “’Cause you are. Everybody thinks so.”

  “I doubt everybody does. You do because you’re prejudiced.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Prejudiced?” She sank onto the bed beside her daughter. “It means you’re predisposed to be biased for or against something.”

  The frown on Lyssa’s forehead told Terri the definition hadn’t clarified the meaning.

  She ruffled her daughter’s hair with one hand, then stroked her cheek. “You see me as pretty because you love me, because I’m your mom, not because of how I really look.”

  Lyssa’s mouth pursed and her eyes narrowed. “Nope,” she said after a lengthy pause, her smile returning. “I think you’re pretty ’cause you are.”

  As she rose from the bed, Terri smiled briefly, knowing she wouldn’t change her daughter’s mind and glad of it. She walked to the mirror and held the blue-green sweater against her torso. Lyssa was right. It was a close match to the color of her eyes. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to keep it. It hadn’t been all that expensive.

  A wave of panic hit her like an unexpected punch in the stomach. God, how will we manage until the salon can reopen? The room seemed to sway, and her stomach hurt.

  “Mom, I like Mr. Jenkins. He’s really nice.”

  I’ve got enough money in the bank to make the next mortgage payment. But how long will it be before I can work again? What if my clients go elsewhere? What if I can’t get them back once I reopen? They might find someone they like better. How much will I need to borrow to make the repairs? I don’t know if my credit is good enough for what I’ll need. If it isn’t…

  She lowered her gaze from the mirror, unable to look at her reflection any longer.

  “You like the coach, too. Right, Mom?”

  She shook her head from side to side, not listening to her daughter as a litany of her problems—existing and potential—played in her mind.

  * * *

  After leaving her mom to get dressed, Lyssa went into her bedroom and closed the door. She sank onto the floor near the built-in shelves that held her most prized possessions—her various sports trophies, an autographed baseball, a collection of stuffed teddy bears and Breyer horses, her favorite books.

  She felt awful. She’d heard her mom talking on the phone, saying she didn’t want to go out with Coach Jenkins tonight. Her mom didn’t like the coach after all. She was unhappy, and it was Lyssa’s fault. If Lyssa hadn’t tricked the coach into winning the cake at the carnival, then he wouldn’t have asked her mom to go to the movies with him; and if her mom hadn’t agreed to go, then she wouldn’t be sad now.

  Lyssa should’ve told her mom she didn’t have to go anywhere with the coach. She didn’t want to be a starting pitcher badly enough to make her mom do something she didn’t want to do, something that made her miserable. Besides, Coach had said Lyssa wasn’t ready yet. She shouldn’t be so impatient. Worse, she shouldn’t be so selfish. And she never should’ve lied about the number she pulled out of the bowl at the cakewalk.

  “Dear Jesus, please don’t let my mom be unhappy. I’m sorry for what I did, really sorry. I’ll make it up to her somehow. I promise.”

  * * *

  Two thoughts crossed Mel’s mind when Terri opened the door for him: she looked tired—understandable, considering what had happened to her salon yesterday—and she looked beautiful. How she managed to do both at the same time amazed him.

  “How’s it going?”

  She gave a slight shrug. “Okay.”

  He might not know her as well as he hoped to, but he knew her well enough to recognize the worry in her eyes. Maybe he should tell her they didn’t have to—

  “Let me grab my purse and coat, and we can go.”

  Minutes later, they were in his car, headed for the Over the Rainbow Diner. Mel had considered taking Terri to a nicer restaurant up at the resort or down in Twin Falls, but something had told him it was best to keep this first date simple and casual.

  Simple and casual…but maybe it shouldn’t be dead silent.

  He cleared his throat. “Is Lyssa ready for our practice tomorrow? We’ve got lots to work on before the season opener.”

  “She’s always ready to play baseball. Practice or an actual game, she loves it. She has since she was about four years old. Instead of Sesame Street, she wanted to watch baseball games on ESPN.”

  “She’s a good kid. I’ve enjoyed coaching her.” He glanced to his right. In the glow of the streetlights, he saw Terri smile as she stared out the front windshield.

  “She is a good kid.” The simple words w
ere laced with a mother’s love.

  “Does Lyssa remember her dad?”

  Terri didn’t reply.

  “Sorry.” His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “That’s none of my business.”

  “No. It’s okay. I guess I assume everybody in Hart’s Crossing already knows the whole pitiful story.”

  “We don’t have to—”

  “I don’t mind talking about it, Mel.” She laughed softly. “And isn’t that why we’re going out? So we can get to know each other better and become friends?”

  Mel hoped they would become more than friends, but he kept that to himself.

  “First dates are awkward, aren’t they?” Terri added.

  He chuckled. “Can’t say I remember. I haven’t been on a first date in years.” He felt her looking at him but kept his gaze on the road.

  “I suppose that’s something you should tell me about.”

  He supposed so, too.

  “In answer to your question,” Terri said, “Lyssa’s dad doesn’t see her. After he moved away, he broke off all contact, with me and with his daughter. Lyssa was a toddler when Vic left, so she doesn’t remember him. That makes things a little easier, I suppose.” She paused before adding, “But not having a dad leaves a void in her life, all the same. Every little girl wants a dad to love and to love her back.”

  Mel wondered if Terri felt a void in her life, too. “Must have been rough for you both.”

  “Hard enough.”

  A number of follow-up questions filled Mel’s head, but he had no time to ask them before he pulled into a parking space not far from the diner.

  * * *

  Seated in the rear booth at the Over the Rainbow Diner, red baskets of Tin Man Fish and Chips and tall glasses of Diet Coke on the table between them, Terri found herself relaxing in Mel’s company. He made her feel comfortable, as if she’d known him all of her life. Perhaps it was the gentle tone of his voice or the way he leaned forward whenever she spoke, as if he didn’t want to miss a single word she said. Being with him made her forget her worries about the salon and the insurance and her too-low bank account balance.