by Terri Osburn
“You can’t avoid the locals forever,” he said. “Might as well face ’em and get it over with.”
She hated how well he knew her. Facing Jeanne the waitress or even Becky Winkle one-on-one was bad enough. The thought of standing before a fellowship hall filled with the people who’d been judge and jury for both her and her mother made her reconsider the running idea.
“Don’t you think my presence will do more harm than good?”
“Only one way to find out.” Spencer rose from his seat and headed for the hall. “But then the locals might surprise you.”
“Like they did yesterday?”
He stopped at the door, turning clear brown eyes her way. “Look at it this way. You got the worst encounter out of the way. And though you didn’t exactly come through smelling like a rose, you proved that you’re still as tough as ever.” With a wink, he added, “You can do this, Lor. And Rosie and I will be there with you. Now get your butt in the shower.”
Before he took two steps, Lorelei said, “You’re more annoying than you used to be.”
“Then at least one of us has changed,” he said, ducking his head back in. “Rosie left four cinnamon rolls. I can’t promise there will be any left by the time you get down here, so hurry up.”
Lorelei hurled a pillow at the empty doorway, but she was laughing as she gathered her clothes for a shower.
He never should have gone up those stairs. Spencer told himself not to do it, but it was as if his feet had a mind of their own. Though if he were honest, he’d admit his feet were being ordered about by a different organ altogether. He’d been halfway up when she’d screamed, kicking his heart around in his chest and sending him sprinting the rest of the way. Fortunately, she’d been too distracted dealing with the feline to notice him arrive at her door in a panic.
She’d been beautiful when he’d found her on the bench at the airport. She’d been pretty in a pout at the diner the day before.
But Lorelei had been the sexiest thing he’d ever seen sitting up in that bed, blonde hair tossed and scattered around her face, blue eyes snapping, and the strap of her blue tank nightie falling off one delicious shoulder. His body was headed for the bed when his brain jerked the wheel in time to send him to the window seat. Keeping any distance between them was a struggle. Not crawling into bed with her had been the toughest thing he’d done since watching her pull away in a Greyhound a dozen years before.
His life hadn’t been all that great while she was gone, so that was saying something.
To his surprise, she’d taken a shower and appeared downstairs in record time. For Lorelei, anyway. Dark denim made her legs look longer, if that were possible, while the blue button-down shirt matched her eyes. The outfit bordered on conservative compared to her usual attire, and he could only assume she’d dressed with their destination in mind.
After downing one of the cinnamon rolls with the claim that she was saving the other for later, she applied lip gloss while he cleaned up. Spencer worried she wasn’t eating enough, fueled by her extra-thin appearance and her comment from the day before, but he let the subject slide for now. They rode to the church in silence, Spencer too busy picturing Lorelei looking like a sex kitten to keep up a conversation.
The almost-prim outfit did nothing to block out the sexier image of her sitting in the middle of a rumpled bed.
“Do I really have to go in there?” Lorelei asked as Spencer put the truck in park in front of the Ardent Springs Baptist fellowship hall.
He glanced her way to see fear in her eyes. His tough, screw-you-if-you-don’t-like-me Lorelei was really scared.
“Like I said, you can do this.” He unbuckled his seat belt. “Becky was never going to change, but give the rest of the town a chance.”
“The question is, will they give me a chance?” she asked, her voice smaller and so unlike the girl he knew.
Resting his arms on top of the steering wheel, Spencer watched an elderly couple pass through the hall doors. “I guess that depends on which Lorelei walks in there.”
“If you’re suggesting I put on an act, there are two coaches and countless casting directors in California who would say you’re wasting your breath.”
“Lorelei, look at me.” He waited for her to turn his way. “Twelve years ago, you were a driven eighteen-year-old desperate to break out of this small town. A town where your mother didn’t have the best life, and that hadn’t been all that kind to you because of circumstances outside your control.”
Breaking eye contact, Lorelei slid her hands under her thighs. “When you put it that way, you make me sound like a victim. Like I didn’t earn most everything these people thought about me.”
“Everybody deserves a second chance. It’s up to you how this one turns out.”
An empty laugh escaped her lips. “Right. I’m in control. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“You can’t control what anyone else says or does.” Spencer tucked a wayward lock behind her ear. “But you can control how you respond to them.”
Tapping her toes on the floor mat, Lorelei met his gaze once more, the fear less obvious. “Since when did you become a wisdom-touting guru? Is this the type of stuff they teach you in college?”
“I did some reading while you were gone.”
“I knew if you didn’t have me dragging you into trouble, you’d spend your life with your nose buried in a book.” Her blue eyes sparkled, looking more like the Lorelei he knew.
Reaching for his door handle, Spencer said, “You did wreak havoc on my GPA once you got me in your clutches.”
“And you enjoyed every minute of it,” Lorelei said, laughing as she met him at the front of the truck.
Standing inches apart, Spencer put his heart into his smile. “That I did.”
Darkened lashes lowered as Lorelei’s gaze dropped to Spencer’s mouth. He thought she might rise up on her toes and plant one for old times’ sake. If for no other reason than to see if he still tasted the same. But then her eyes darted off toward the church. “You shouldn’t flirt with me, Spencer. There’s nothing but more of the same down that path.”
“I wasn’t flirting alone,” he pointed out.
Tilting her head, Lorelei squinted from the sun as she met his eyes. “You knew the girl who roared out of here twelve years ago, but she didn’t come back, Spencer.”
“Then who did?” he asked.
With a shake of her head, Lorelei answered, “I’ll let you know when I figure it out. Now let’s go sell some cookies.”
The only good thing about Spencer looking all sexy and kissable was that he served as an excellent distraction from the impending drama. If she was thinking about all the things she’d like to do to her ex-boyfriend, Lorelei couldn’t obsess over all the ways the next few minutes could turn ugly. But then she reached the church hall doors and had to picture Spencer naked to suppress the panic. Which served two purposes.
One, she entered the church hall with a smile on her lips and a blush on her cheeks.
Two, the blast of icy-cold air that hit her in the face upon entering the hall was more welcome than startling.
“There’s Rosie over in the corner,” Spencer said, settling a hand on the small of Lorelei’s back as he maneuvered her through the thin crowd. She considered shaking him off, but the extra support came in handy as she passed Buford Stallings, who’d been the Ardent Springs mayor while Lorelei was in high school. Buford had been present at the infamous street fair the night before Lorelei left town. Needless to say, she’d been angry at the time. And confused. And felt as if she were drowning and the only way to find air was to get on a bus and never look back.
Only now she was back and would have to account for her childish outburst. Possibly with blood. There was no way to tell.
The former town leader didn’t look happy to see her, but then he didn’t spit in her direction either. Better than she’d expected.
“There’s my girl!” burst an unforgettable twang from across the hall. �
��Come over here and give me a big old hug, you pretty young thing.”
Pearl Jessup, Granny’s best friend from the time the two of them strolled into a kindergarten classroom, bounced across the bleached tiles in Lorelei’s direction. Older, rounder, and grayer than when she’d last seen her, Pearl still had the beaming smile of a pageant queen and the energy of a two-year-old hyped up on red Kool-Aid.
“I told Rosie that you’d be even more gorgeous than ever, and I was right.” The older woman wrapped Lorelei in a bear hug that threatened to pop a lung. Releasing her as quickly as she’d grabbed her, Pearl pushed Lorelei an arm’s length away. “You could cut glass with those cheekbones, darling. And you’re so thin I can practically see right through you.” With a sigh, she added, “But she’s still as pretty as ever, isn’t she, Spencer?”
“Yes, ma’am. Almost as pretty as you are.”
Pearl tapped Spencer on the arm as her cheeks turned pink. “Oh, go on now. You’re only buttering me up so I’ll save you some of my pineapple upside-down cake. But if you want you a piece, you’re going to have to buy it like everybody else.”
Spencer strolled forward with Pearl on his arm, the pair leaving Lorelei without a backward glance. “Been saving my cash for just that reason,” he said. “Come on, Lor. Time to get to work.”
“Right behind you,” she said, telling herself she was not jealous of the older woman. And to be fair, Lorelei did remember Pearl’s pineapple upside-down cake and wished she’d brought some cash of her own to get a piece. Maybe Spencer would share.
Remembering what Spencer had said in the truck, Lorelei passed through the crowd flashing a friendly smile at anyone who met her eye. It seemed to be working, as she received numerous smiles in return. Gloria Harper, who’d attempted to instill an appreciation of Shakespeare into Lorelei during tenth-grade English class, patted her on the shoulder and said, “It’s lovely to see you again, Miss Pratchett.”
Miss Harper had always referred to Lorelei as Miss Pratchett. She hadn’t bestowed this honor on any of her other students, which made Lorelei feel as if she were different. Better in Miss Harper’s eyes. It was nice to know she still had at least one ally in town, other than Spencer and Granny. And Pearl, she supposed.
“Are all of these people raising money for the theater?” Lorelei asked as she reached Granny, who was putting out bags of sugar cookies with five per bag.
“All of them,” Granny said. “And it took some doing, but we got the church counsel to waive the fee for using the hall.”
“How Christian of them,” Lorelei said, counting the tables forming a U around three sides of the space. “Eighteen stands. Not bad.” Squinting toward a table in the far corner, she asked, “What’s that one over on the end? Did someone not get the baked goods memo?”
Granny looked in the direction Lorelei indicated. “That’s Snow’s Curiosity Shop. Her store sits on the corner of Fourth and Main, not far off the square. Lovely young woman. Claims she can’t bake to save her life, so we let her bring whatever she wants so long as the proceeds go to the cause.”
“Her name is Snow?” Lorelei didn’t know if the woman behind the table was the Snow in question, but considering the giant ball of black curls surrounding the olive-toned face, the name would be ironic if it were.
“Snow Cameron. Been in town about a year, I guess.” Granny looked up from her cookie arranging. “Is that right, Pearl? How long has Snow been here?”
Pearl looked up as if the answer could be found in the dingy ceiling tiles. “Snow rolled into Cooper’s garage last June, so that’s right. She’s been here a year this month.”
They made it sound like the woman dropped out of the sky. A sign of how infrequently newcomers strolled into town to stay, considering Pearl remembered it practically to the day.
“Wait. Cooper? As in Cooper Ridgeway?”
“You’ve got it,” Spencer said, chiming in as he hefted a box of baked goods onto Pearl’s table. “Cooper bought the garage when Tanner Drury’s wife finally convinced him to retire. That was three years ago now.”
Lorelei had no idea why she found the soap opera that was As Ardent Turns to be so interesting, but she couldn’t help but be curious. “So Cooper now owns the garage where he worked when we were all in high school? So much for mechanics being a dead-end job.”
“There’s nothing wrong with good, hard work,” Pearl said, slicing chunks of pineapple upside-down cake and placing them on paper plates for Spencer to then cover with cling wrap. “Cooper has been taking care of my Bessie for a decade now, and that pink Cadillac still runs like the day I bought her.”
“And he’s kept you in a car, too,” Granny said, pointing with an oatmeal cookie. “So you should stop by and thank him sometime.”
Lorelei blinked. “Granny, I don’t own a car.” She’d had a clunker in LA, but the ancient Chrysler had died six months ago.
“Sure you do. The Caprice is sitting in the garage at the house.”
“You still have that boat?” Lorelei had learned to drive in the two-toned Caprice Classic, which was closer to a yacht than a car. She never expected the monstrosity would be waiting for her when she got home.
Granny crossed her arms in a huff. “Your grandfather wanted you to have that car, and I’ve made sure that wish was honored. You could show a little gratitude, young lady.”
Adequately scolded, Lorelei apologized. “It’s not that I’m not grateful,” she said. “But I expected that car to be long gone by now. So I’m surprised. Having a way to get around on my own is going to be nice, though.” She tried not to think about the gas and insurance that she wouldn’t be able to afford anytime soon. “So thanks, to you and Pops.”
“You’re welcome.” Granny returned to her cookies. “Insurance is paid through the rest of the year, and the tank is full. Keys are hanging by the back door.”
Lorelei felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Now she could find work and not have to depend on Granny and Spencer to get her there. Not that she had any idea who would hire her, but Lorelei refused to curl up in a ball and give up, nor would she become a burden on her grandmother. There was always waiting tables—the only marketable skill she had—but the thought of serving the locals made her teeth hurt. Still, she’d do it.
The last twelve years had taught her many lessons, the biggest being that pride didn’t pay the bills. Sadly, neither did acting. Waiting tables it would have to be.
Chapter 6
Spencer had a long list of things to do Monday morning, which meant he didn’t have time to wait around and see Lorelei before starting his day. If he knew his former fiancée, she might be up by lunchtime, but there were no guarantees. He’d left the garage door open for her, in case she wanted to go somewhere. Though he’d oiled the track last week, on the same day he’d made sure the tank in the Caprice was full, the door was heavy, and he didn’t want Lorelei fighting to get it open.
By midmorning, he’d measured Miss Hattie’s kitchen for her new cabinets, put in an order for revised blueprints on the theater design, as he’d changed a few things based on feedback at the last meeting, and lined up two more kitchen remodels thanks to Mike Lowry recommending him. Mike was a native who’d moved to Nashville back when Spencer was still a bun in the oven to make it big in country music. Like Lorelei, he’d found not everyone gets their big break. After years slinging a hammer when he wasn’t singing in the bars, Mike returned to Ardent Springs and set up his own construction business.
Luckily for Spencer, the man respected his work and mentioned Boyd’s Custom Cabinets to clients looking for any kind of cabinetry.
Stepping through the entrance to Stallings Hardware, Spencer hesitated in order to let his eyes adjust to the dim interior. Once he could see, he headed for the counter. “Got an order for you, Buford,” he said. “Miss Hattie wants the cherry, so I hope that’s not still on back order.”
“You’re in luck,” Buford responded. “Truck came yesterday.”
“Perfe
ct.” Spencer dropped his clipboard onto the counter. “She also wants the satin, nickel-finish pulls from Sumner.” Sliding a sheet of paper Buford’s way, he added, “Fourteen doors and seven drawers. The item numbers are there, along with the rest of the order.”
Surveying the list, Buford chuckled. “What are the odds old Hattie isn’t going to change her mind again? I’d swear, the woman can’t make a decision to save her life.”
“She wrote a check and locked in an install date,” Spencer said. “She’s getting what’s on that paper now, whether she likes it or not.”
“You keep telling yourself that. I’ll go put this order in and be right back.” Buford disappeared into his back office, leaving Spencer to walk the store.
He’d had his eye on a new jointer for a while, and with Hattie’s deposit on top of two more jobs on the books, he could afford it. Spencer was eyeing the nice little Steel City number when Grady Evans stepped up beside him.
“Finding a better use for that bake sale money?” the man asked, his voice like his brains, thick and slow. He wasn’t a pillar of the community by any means, but Evans was a native, which meant he had enough of a voice in town affairs to be a nuisance.
Spencer kept his eyes on the power tool. “That money is for the theater, Grady.”
“That piece of crap building needs to come down. Doesn’t matter how many cookies y’all sell, you ain’t gonna save it.”
“You’re entitled to your opinion, but we think differently.” Which was an understatement where Grady was concerned. Spencer felt strongly that they needed to make Ardent Springs more relevant, which would in turn create prosperity and growth. Grady Evans would rather see the town fade into oblivion than join the twenty-first century. Heaven forbid they let in outsiders.
“This isn’t your town, Boyd.” Grady followed Spencer toward the front of the store. “We don’t want you changing things. This town is fine the way it is.”
Turning on his heel, Spencer glared at Grady. “This town is dying, Evans. You may be happy with that, but the rest of us aren’t.”