“I’ve got to run to the market and pick up milk and eggs. I’ll see you in the morning.” She gave Lou Anne a quick hug and practically skipped from the house. She was the only person Lou Anne knew that enjoyed grocery shopping.
The moment her old Thunderbird backed from the drive, Lou Anne bounded up the stairs to the attic. She had to find out what Frank Murphy wanted. After searching for a week for a treasure she now doubted existed, she believed something else held his interest. It couldn’t be land. There was land for sale all around town.
She opened a dusty box full of softball gear. Nostalgia filled her as she pulled on her old glove. It also reminded her of Stetson’s kiss on the fourth. That had been hotter than the fireworks and she hadn’t wanted it to end. Definitely better than kissing her horse. She grinned and set the glove aside. Underneath her jersey was her high school yearbook. She’d been voted cutest girl. How silly. She might have been cute but she’d only had eyes for the older brother of her best friend and so rarely dated because of her infatuation.
After sorting through the last of the boxes in the attic, she sat back at surveyed the three piles. One for keep, one for donate, and one for trash. She’d found nothing that would seem of value to anyone outside the family.
She glanced around the room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, then up into the rafters. Wait a minute. A small leather satchel was wedged between two of the boards. She dragged a trunk over and climbed on top, stretching to reach. Not enough. She piled on another trunk, balancing on top like a circus performer. She grabbed the satchel and through the window caught sight of Frank Murphy running away from the back of the house.
She shrugged and jumped to the floor. Seconds later, she stared at a blueprint of the house. Webbed under the main floor were two tunnels and a cellar that someone had written whiskey across.
When was the house built? One hundred years ago. It had been here during the prohibition. What if there were bottles of aged whiskey waiting to be found? This was what Frank Murphy was after. She knew it. A fortune laid under the house.
The slamming of a car door let her know Auntie was home. Soon, the sound of footsteps heading to her bedroom sounded. Lou Anne couldn’t wait to share her find.
“Fire!” Auntie’s voice rang up the ladder. “The back of the house is on fire.” She thundered away from the attic.
Fear clawed up Lou Anne’s throat. She couldn’t let the house burn. She shoved the blue prints into the waistband of her shorts and darted down the attic stairs as smoke rose around her.
“Auntie?” She coughed. Covering her mouth with her arm, she glanced in the kitchen. So far, the fire seemed to be concentrated on the back wall of the house. That wouldn’t be the case much longer.
“On the porch. Grab your phone.”
Lou Anne snatched her purse off the foyer table and tossed it outside. “Call the fire department. I have to go back for something.”
She raced back up the stairs. The smoke had thickened. Tears ran down her eyes. She slammed open her bedroom door and knelt to pull the journals and letters from under the bed. With the box clutched in her hands, she turned.
Fire licked at the door frame. She wouldn’t be getting out that way. She tried opening her bedroom window. Paint kept it stuck closed. She pulled her old school backpack from the closet and shoved the box inside, the pulled the straps over her shoulders.
Coughing wracked her body. She was going to burn.
“Lou Anne.” Stetson stood hunched over just past the flames. “Stay there. I have an idea.”
He reappeared a few minutes later with towels over his head. With his head down, he leaped through the flames. “Put this over your head.” He wrapped a soaking wet towel over her head. “Keep your face down and stay close. Ready?”
Heart threatening to burst free, Lou Anne nodded. Before she had time to think twice, Stetson had her out of the bedroom. The hall was fully engulfed. “The attic.” She forced the words from a tortured throat.
Keeping his arm around her waist, they raced up the stairs. The smoke was thick, but the flames hadn’t reached that far yet.
“How are we going to get out?” Lou Anne stared into his red eyes. “We’re going to die.” And it was her fault for coming back into the house. Because of her, the man she loved was going to burn.
~
Stetson cupped Lou Anne’s face. “We aren’t going to die. We’re going on the roof.”
Her eyes widened. “How?”
“We’re going to balance on that ridge around the roof. It’s the only way.” He’d rather fall than burn. It was their only chance for survival. “I’ll take care of you. Do you trust me?”
“Always.”
He couldn’t betray that trust. If he had the power to save her at all, he would. Even at the sacrifice of his own life.
He grabbed an antique lamp base and shattered the attic window as the first flames kissed at the top of the attic steps. They didn’t have a lot of time to make it to the roof. If the fire department didn’t arrive quickly, it wouldn’t matter. The whole house would go up in flames.
“It was Frank.” Lou Anne grabbed his arm. “He set the fire.”
Stetson gave a curt nod and broke out the rest of the glass from the sill. Slivers cut into his hands. A small price to pay for the fresh air coming through the window. He set on the ledge and pulled his legs over. It wasn’t going to be easy to balance on the three-inch ledge in cowboy boots, but where there was a will, there was a way. He stepped out and gripped the shaker siding. “Come on. Slow and easy, Lou Lou. You can do this.”
“I can’t.” She stared at the ground. “I’ll fall.”
“You won’t. I refuse to let you. Get your butt out here and drop that backpack.”
Her eyes flashed for a second, then she nodded, tossing the pack to the ground. Good. Anger had always been a good motivator for her when something frightened her.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
“All we have to do is avoid the fire for a few more minutes. Then, we’re saved and I’m going to kiss you until you’re dizzy.”
“I’m already dizzy.” She climbed out, letting out a shriek as she slipped, then plastered herself to the side of the house.
Water sprayed over them. Stetson’s grip slipped. He glanced down to see Auntie spraying them with the hose. “Stop. You’re making it slippery.”
“If you’re wet,” she called up, “you won’t burn as fast. You’re welcome.”
Stetson sighed. She had a point, crazy as it was.
He inched his way along, praying with every centimeter, as Lou Anne followed. Finally, they reached a low-hanging corner of the roof. This was the tricky part. “Stay still. Once I’m up, I’ll help you.”
Grabbing the gutter, he pulled himself up. His breath hitched when the gutter pulled a bit away from the wall. Please, Lord, let it hold. Just a few more minutes. He swung his leg up, hooking the heel of his boot in the gutter, then rolled onto the roof. “Give me your hand.” He reached out for Lou Anne.
Her hand wrapped around his wrist. Grunting, he scooted back, the roof shingles scraping his stomach, until he had her on the roof with him.
She threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”
“We aren’t clear yet.” He led her to the farthest corner and waved his arms to the fire truck.
Soon, they were helped down the fire ladder and deposited on the ground. Paramedics rushed forward to give them oxygen.
When he was free of the mask, Stetson turned to Lou Anne. “What’s in the pack? What was so important you had to risk your life?”
“Oh.” She slid from the back of the ambulance and sprinted to the back of the house, returning with the backpack. “The journals and a prohibition map of tunnels running under the house. This is what Frank Murphy is after. My guess is since he couldn’t purchase the house, he’d burn it down and find what he wanted that way.”
Stetson stared at what remained of Betty’s house. Not much. “You think he kn
ew about the tunnels?”
“Yes.” She took his hand. “Auntie, you too. Come on.”
The boards were too hot to touch. The fire had cracked the foundation. But, there, off to one side was a trap door, now burned through to reveal a set of stone steps. Stetson grinned. “If there’s whiskey down there, I hope the bottles didn’t explode from the heat. Betty, you’re going to be a rich woman.”
She gave a shuddering sigh. “All that work on the house wasted. See how worrying over silly things amount to nothing.”
“Are you all right?” Lou Anne put an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll rebuild. Better than before. We have the blueprints.” She flashed a grin.
Betty smiled. “That we do.” She sighed again. “Looks like we’re all sleeping in the barn for a few nights.”
“Not me,” Stetson laughed. “Neither are you. My little house in town will hold the three of us.” He took Lou Anne’s hand and pulled her away from the firemen, paramedics, onlookers, and Betty. “We have some unfinished business of our own.”
“Like what?” The corner of her mouth tilted.
“This.” He claimed her lips in a kiss until she sagged in his arms. Lifting his head, he asked. “So, Lou Lou, will you stay and marry me? Will you tame this cowboy?”
She smiled. “Only if you stop calling me Lou Lou.”
“No guarantees. Marry me anyway.”
She took her bottom lip between her teeth. “Here? Will you help rebuild and live here?”
“Without question.” He wrapped his arms around her. “This has always been home to me. I’m sorry it burned.”
“Me, too.”
He tilted her face to his. “Can you handle me doing renovations on Ashlee’s home?”
“Of course. You’ve had ten years to grab her if she was the one you wanted.”
Betty marched toward them and handed Lou Anne her phone. “The sheriff is hunting down Frank as we speak.” Her eyes twinkled. “I guess you two finally came to your senses.”
“She couldn’t resist my kisses,” Stetson said.
“Oh, hush.” Lou Anne bumped him with her hip.
“Good. Here.” Betty handed them an envelope. “I never kept this in the house for this very reason. You never know when life throws a curve ball. I had it in a canister down the old well.”
“What is it?” Stetson took the envelope.
“The deed to the house and land. It’s my wedding gift to you two. All I ask is that you let me live here until God takes me home.”
“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea.” He smiled down at Lou Anne.
“Me, too.” She cupped his cheek. “Now kiss me again.”
He bent his head and obliged.
Epilogue
Lou Anne took Stetson’s hand and walked down the stone steps to the basement. Excitement bubbled like the finest champagne. The burned timbers of the house had finally been removed. It was time to see what Frank had wanted to badly as to risk going to jail.
Stetson squeezed her hand as encouragement. “Ready?”
“Very.” A splintery wooden door blocked their path. Lou Anne pushed it open and turned on her flashlight.
Shelf after shelf of dusty bottles filled with an amber liquid encompassed one wall of the small room. Another door, most likely the extension of the tunnel, was propped open opposite them. Pushed against the wall was an old sea trunk. Lou Anne smiled and opened the lid.
Recipes for whiskey, ledgers for gambling, and a black velvet pouch with a diamond necklace and earring set lay inside. “We’re rich,” she whispered.
Stetson motioned for her to come with him through the other door. “Those bottles are worthless. This is what will bring in the money.” He shined his light on a room full of whiskey barrels. “Still aging.”
“Mercy.” She ran her hand over one of the barrels. “Auntie will want this out of the house immediately. She doesn’t believe in drinking.”
“I’ll see to finding a buyer right away.” He kissed the top of her head. “Happy?”
“Yes, but I’ll be happier on Saturday when we get married. I think I’ll wear that diamond set in the trunk.”
He laughed. “So, you’re keeping it?”
“Of course. It’s part of my heritage.” She picked up a lone bottle of whiskey next to one of the barrels. “And this. For a souvenir. A lot was at risk for this liquid. Frank went to jail, we lost the house…”
“You admitted you love me.” He winked.
“Yes. I finally let go of my wounded pride.”
“Still rather kiss your horse?” He pulled her close.
“No, I’d rather save my kisses for you.”
The End
SUSPICIOUS MINDS
A Love Me Tender Novella
By Cynthia Hickey
Copyright 2017
Written by: Cynthia Hickey
Published by: Winged Publications
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
No part of this book may be copied or distributed without the author’s consent.
1
Susan Turner stood outside of the newly built mega bookstore, “Books and More”, and mentally watched her finances plummet. How could “Turn the Pages” compete with such a monstrosity? Even with the planning of the “Elvis” extravaganza featuring an Elvis look-a-like and music to draw attention to the Turn the Pages’ venture into vinyl records.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door of her competitor and stepped inside a building smelling of fresh paint and coffee. Oh, she wanted to put a coffee bar in her store. That was next on her list, in fact. If only she had the funds at her disposal this store seemed to have.
She ran her hand over mass-marketed bookshelves covered with laminate to look like wood. The ones in her shop were handmade. Plus, the garish overhead lights did nothing for the ambiance. Hopefully, there would still be people wanting a cozier place to purchase their books.
“Susan?”
She froze. She knew that voice, and it was the last person she expected to ever hear in Woodsbrook again. Pasting a smile on her face, she turned. “Cade! What a surprise. I heard you moved across the country.” Right after high school as a matter of fact. Right after a night of sharing dreams and making plans with her.
“I’m back.” He waved an arm. “I own this place. It’s the fulfillment of a dream. It took me a while to get here, but better late than never.” He gave the dimpled grin she remembered so well.
“I remember. We shared this particular dream.” She stared into a handsome face that had once been as familiar to her as her own. Dark eyes sparkled over an Adonis nose. Full lips smiled from a hint of whisker shadow on his face. He’d grown more handsome the last ten years. Something she hadn’t thought possible. Instead of a boy, he stood before her a very viral man.
“Yes, we spent a lot of time talking about it, didn’t we? How are you, Susan? Let me buy you a coffee so we can catch up.”
“I need to get back to my own shop.” She straightened her shoulders. “I own Turn the Page down the street.” She thrust out her hand. “Here’s to a healthy competition.”
His mouth quirked. “Competition?”
“It seems we both fulfilled the dream we had once thought to share together.” She raised her eyebrows. “I don’t intend to let this mega store run me out of business.” She turned on her heel and stalked toward the front door.
“Wait.” Cade jogged to her side. “We offer prospective customers different things. Why can’t we operate without pitting ourselves against each other?”
She spun so fast, he almost stumbled over her. “You left me, Cade. You took my dreams and turned it into…this monstrosity. I laid my soul bare. I thought we had a future, and I’ve not heard from you since.” Biting her tongue to keep from crying, she barged outside t
o the sidewalk.
Despite him calling her name, she quick-stepped to the only sanctuary she had and opened the door to the familiar scents of ink and paper.
“What’s wrong?” Lynette, her part-time help, looked up from the counter.
“Nothing.” Susan plopped into an easy chair. One of many around the shop to invite shoppers to stay awhile. “I just came from the new bookstore. Oh, Lynette. I don’t see how we can compete. They have a coffee bar.”
“So do we.” She grinned. “It might be a Keurig, but it’s still coffee, tea, or cocoa. We’re comfortable and friendly. We have lower overhead, since the building was left to you by your grandfather. If you want an edge, we can give away free pastries.”
“That’s a good idea.” They needed every possible advantage. She ran over the numbers in her head. Yes, they could swing the cost, if she cut somewhere else or found a new source of income. It was time to go through her grandfather’s boxes of books and put them for sale on the internet.
“Who’s the owner?” Lynette turned back to adding numbers.
“Some guy.” Susan sighed and headed for the attic.
Right. No one needed to know that the ‘some’ guy happened to be the very guy she’d once loved with all of her young heart. Well, those days were gone. Now, it was two adults fighting to keep their personal dreams alive.
Cade had to have a motive for returning to Woodsbrook. No one left without warning, then returned the same way without a darn good reason. She plopped onto a dusty beanbag chair that needed repaired. She sneezed from the cloud of dust that rose in the air. Yes, Cade Akin was up to something, and Susan intended to find out what and then beat him at his own game.
She opened the first of ten boxes, delighted to see the first edition copies of Tarzan that had once graced the shelves of her grandparents’ home. These should fetch a pretty penny. She’d held onto the books for a time when she needed them. Now was that time.
Feeling hope for the first time since her competitor’s doors opened, she carried the box of books to the work room where she would photograph them for sale. Cade wouldn’t have first edition or antique books.
Love Draws Near Page 24