Angel's Lake Box Set: Books 1-3 (Angel's Lake Series)

by Jody Holford

  “Anyway, I’ll bring you presents when I come so make sure you have your tree up,” Jordan joked, pulling her back to the conversation.

  “Have you met me? I just finished unpacking the living room first so I can get my tree up this week. I’m going to cut it down!”

  “Like from outside?”

  “That’s generally where you find trees, Jordan.”

  “Who is this and where is my city-girl best friend? Give her back.”

  “I’m still me, Jo,” Anna sighed. “I can’t explain it but it feels right. Just being in the house where my mom was a girl, the town even, makes me feel like I get another little piece of the puzzle. Everyone thinks I’m dumb for buying it but I needed to, you know? I needed to show them that I can make my own choices and I know what’s right for me.”

  “And do you?”

  “This. This is right for me,” she said feeling the swell of pride blooming in her chest when she looked around at the home she owned.

  She plopped down on the couch, blinking away the tears that came when thinking of the look on her dad and brother’s faces when she’d told them she wanted to purchase the house her late mom had grown up in and move to this obscure Minnesota town. As usual, any idea that was not their own, seemed crazy to them. To her, this move was the first thing in forever that made perfect sense.

  “You’re not dumb. Not even a little. I get it. I was just teasing you and I can’t wait to see the house and you. You followed your heart, Anna, and that makes you braver than any of us.” Jordan’s tone was fierce.

  She stood, ready to tackle the next room, and saw that Sam was shoveling her driveway.

  “I have to go,” Anna said abruptly. “My neighbor is shoveling my driveway.”

  “Wow. What an ass,” Jordan replied dryly while Anna went to the closet to switch her slippers to boots.

  “I came here to be independent and do things for myself. I do not need a man to do things for me!”

  “Well, having them on hand for certain things is never bad. Is he hot?”

  “Jordan --”

  “I’m just asking. Geesh. Go! Go stop him before he clears too much or God-forbid does the whole damn thing,” Jordan interrupted.

  “I don’t want to be taken care of, Jo,” she repeated. They said goodbye and she reigned herself in, reminding herself that shoveling her drive was a thoughtful gesture.

  Sam looked up and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his Henley. He’d ditched the jacket and gloves he’d started out with. He grinned when he saw Anna stomping down her porch steps, a bundle of color and energy. He hadn’t seen her in a couple days but she’d done a great job on the lights. It was too soon for decorations in his mind, but his sisters were the same; girl thing. He was pretty sure that the loose-fitting pants Anna wore were pajamas. Her hair was in some sort of messy, twisted pile on the top of her head. She was slip-sliding her way over to him and he rested his forearms on the shovel.

  “I don’t need you to do that!” she called, waving her arm as if she were flagging down passing vehicles in an accident. He waited, wincing at the way she hurried over the ice.

  “It’s not a big deal. I was doing mine anyway,” he said casually. Her pants/pajamas had some sort of weird design on them that made his eyes cross so he kept them on her face instead. It was a very attractive face: smooth, pale skin, make-up free, which, in his opinion you didn’t see enough of anymore. Her green gaze gave him a clear picture of what emeralds would look like on fire. Sparkly and hot.

  “Listen. It’s very nice of you to do this but I really can take care of myself,” she insisted, almost losing her balance as she got closer. She grabbed the shovel with both hands, teetering and making him have to tighten his grip.

  “You can do mine, Sam!” called a wheezy voice. Anna turned her head to see who was calling out. Sam knew by the voice it was Mrs. Kramer, who lived on the other side of him. She sounded like a lifelong smoker but looked not a day over seventy. She was somewhere closer to ninety and still lived on her own, though her sons and grandchildren often stopped by to visit.

  “Who’s that?” Anna whispered conspiratorially.

  “Mrs. Kramer and I doubt she can hear you.” Anna waved, keeping one hand on the shovel.

  “Hello dear!” Mrs. Kramer yelled as loud as her throaty voice would allow, though it wasn’t necessary since the driveways weren’t that far apart. He turned, letting go of the shovel and waved as well.

  “What are you doing out here in the cold?” Sam asked.

  “Taking the garbage out,” she replied. Her toque was pulled down just above her eyes and her scarf was bundled so that only her lips and her nose were showing.

  “She’s not carrying a garbage bag,” Anna said, still whispering.

  “Probably forgot it in the house once she finished piling on all that clothing,” Sam returned easily.

  “I’m Anna!” Anna boomed.

  “Oh, to her you’re friendly,” Sam said under his breath.

  “Hey, I’m friendly to you!”

  “I know, dear. Sam told me. I have to go in now. You kids be good. You go ahead and do my driveway if you want, Sam. I’ve got $5.00 in the house.”

  Anna gave a hearty chuckle and waved at Mrs. Kramer, who ambled slowly up her drive.

  “Bye, Mrs. Kramer,” Sam called. “See, she even offered to pay me.”

  “She’s a hundred and her driveway is done,” Anna said, turning back to face him.

  “Because I did it first,” he said, reaching out for the shovel. She pulled her arms back so it was out of his reach and caught herself before she tumbled from the quick movement on the ice.

  “I can do my own,” Anna insisted.

  “You sure about that?” he smiled. She did not smile in return, which only made him laugh. A house full of sisters made him no stranger to a woman’s temper.

  “Would you have done this for a male neighbor?” she asked, arching her brows. He laughed but she did not. It was like he’d taken away her right to vote.

  “No. I suppose I wouldn’t have. Well, actually, I’d do it for Mr. McNeil down the block. He’s not quite as old as Mrs. Kramer but it seems like the right thing to do when he needs it,” Sam answered carefully. She gave him a triumphant “Ah-ha” look.

  “So you take care of things for women and old people,” she concluded.

  He shifted his feet, noted that she was shivering, and wondered how to answer the question.

  “I clearly have a problem.” Sam made his best attempt at what his nephew called ‘I’m sorry’ eyes, holding his hand out once more.

  She shook her head, making her ponytail whip side to side. He put both hands up and backed away, trying not to laugh at the look of pouty determination on her face.

  “Look. You’re a nice guy. That’s obvious. I appreciate the neighborly gesture but it’s not going to get you anywhere,” she rambled, beginning to push the shovel into the pile of snow behind the tires on her car. He probably shouldn’t mention that her tread looked a little bare.

  “To set the record straight, I sure as hell wasn’t trying to get anywhere with Mrs. Kramer and I’m not going to take the $5.00,” Sam joked. “But just to be sure, what do you mean by anything?” He rubbed his hands together, blew on them. She stopped, though she hadn’t really started and turned to gesture between the two of them.

  “I’m not interested in a relationship of any sort. Or dating or a booty call or-

  “Did you really just say that?” he laughed loudly. She looked confused.

  “What? A booty call? You know, it’s—”

  “Ahh, I know what it is, Anna. I just can’t believe you said it.” He continued to laugh. He wondered what it was that made her so averse to a little help, particularly from a man. The thought wiped the smile from his face. Her cheeks were turning a light shade of pink and he wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or the cold.

  “Okay. Well, whatever you call it. I’m off the market,” she sighed miserabl
y and he frowned at her.

  “Married?”

  “No. Just unavailable,” she said in a warning tone.

  “I didn’t ask.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. For a small statured woman, her withering glare was very effective.

  “Just because I’m a woman living on my own does not make me naïve or incapable,” she stated, “and I know what a man wants when he offers to ‘help’ or take care of things for me.”

  She’d had a hard time making the air quotes around “help” while holding the shovel. He stepped forward.

  “Makes me wonder what kind of men you’ve been around if it never occurred to you that maybe I’m just offering to help because I’m a nice guy, Anna,” he said quietly, holding her gaze.

  “But I’m unavailable for…whatever,” she repeated in an adorably exasperated voice. She really thought he was only helping her to get into her pants.

  “Me too,” he said without meaning to. Sam didn’t know why he said it but he saw the tension in her visibly reduce. Her stance relaxed, her shoulders dropped. Her eyes registered surprise before she gave a full face, heart-stopping smile.

  “Really?” she asked. He wasn’t sure why that piece of fabricated information untwisted her knots but clearly it did.

  “Yes, really,” He should have left it at that but instead, he heard the words, “I have a girlfriend,” leave his mouth. He looked away from her softened gaze, feeling like an asshole for lying and for thinking about how much he liked the sound of her voice.

  “It’s not Mrs. Kramer, is it?”

  “Ha! No. She turned me down.”

  “You’re funny. Well, this is…that’s very nice,” she enthused. She seemed to realize she was still holding the shovel and began to push at the snow with renewed purpose. Putting both hands on the handle she pushed forward, missing the bottom layer of snow completely. She asked brightly, “What’s her name?”

  “Who?” he asked, seeing that she was shoveling the area he’d already finished, making more work for both of them.

  “Your girlfriend,” she said, frowning at him. Damn His girlfriend. Right.

  “Uh…,” he stalled. He walked over to pull on his jacket and his eyes landed on the bumper of his truck.

  “Well?”

  “Sierra,” he answered evenly, turning to face her. Her brows scrunched together over her nose.

  “Sierra?”

  “Yup. Sierra. My girlfriend. She’s…awesome. So, you really don’t need to worry about me hitting on you or asking for a …”

  “Booty call?” she laughed in a self-deprecating way that had him laughing.

  “Yeah. That. I’m just being neighborly, Anna. You’re beautiful, but I’m not after anything more than friendship, so you can relax,” he said, enjoying the smile on her face.

  “Cause you have a girlfriend?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Well, then I guess we can be friends,” she said, handing him back the shovel.

  “Because I have a girlfriend?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  He watched her march back into her aged bungalow and wondered what the hell had just happened. She had to be the strangest woman he’d ever met. He wished like hell that he didn’t find that fascinating. Shrugging out of his jacket once more, he finished the job that he had started without further interruption.

  “Sierra,” Anna said aloud in her kitchen as she was unwrapping new dishes from the boxes. “Sam and Sierra. Sounds good together,” she said to her empty kitchen.

  She was probably leggy with dark hair and huge boobs. The opposite of Anna. Not that she cared, since she had no desire to attract a man right now. “Booty call,” she lamented. “I can’t believe I said booty-call.”

  Not only had it been presumptuous on her part, but once he’d said he had a girlfriend, it was completely embarrassing. Why would tall, dark, and handsome Sam need anything from short, fair, and cutesy Anna when he had leggy, exotic, and gorgeous Sierra? She placed a plate on the counter harder than she meant to and saw a little chip of porcelain go flying.

  “Shoot.” Now she had less than a full set. “Not the end of the world,” she reminded herself. At least it was the set she’d chosen during a rather giddy shopping spree when she’d arrived in town just over a week ago. She’d unwrapped most of the dishes, the living room was finished, and she’d made a path to her bed. She’d promised herself that when the boxes were unpacked, she’d go out and get herself that Christmas tree. She tried to picture it filling the front window. From outside, she’d be able to see it glowing along with the string of multicolored lights sparkling that she’d managed to put up without help. She’d scared herself a bit when she’d done the attic dormer windows and realized that she wasn’t a big fan of heights, but so far, she was managing quite well without her dad, her brother, or anyone else.

  “Aside from continuously embarrassing yourself in front of your neighbor,” she grumbled, putting the last plate into the glass fronted cupboard. She yawned and raised her hands high in an overdue stretch. When her stomach unceremoniously growled, she glanced at the clock, surprised to see it read 6:30. Enough for one day, she thought.

  She hesitated when she grabbed her purse off her bed. Boxes upon boxes of shoes and clothes sat around the bed with a small path from the door to the bed. Eyeing the closet, she wondered again if everything would fit. “Later.” She’d seen a pizza place in town and hoped it’d be open.

  Sam’s day had started out amusing and ended up lousy. He was still pissed about a client’s latest design changes when he pulled into his driveway. He inhaled the scent of his pizza filling his truck and tried to remember if he had any beer. He was the lead architect at his firm, a job he was fiercely proud of, but some days, he wished that he didn’t have to deal so closely with the clients. Running his hand through his hair, he was deciding whether he needed food or a shower first. Anna was coming down her porch steps and he noted that the second looked like it was a bit uneven. Not that he’d offer to fix it for her now that he knew better. The thought was the first thing that made him smile all day. She waved as he was getting out of his truck. She’d been a lot friendlier since he’d told her about his “girlfriend”. He didn’t feel good about lying but he liked talking to her and didn’t want to stop.

  “Hey neighbor,” she called.

  “Hey. How’s it going? You getting all settled?”

  “Yes. I promised myself that if I got all the boxes unloaded I could put my tree up so I’m trying to get them all done.”

  “Impressive. I have some in my garage you can unpack.” He leaned against the warm hood of his truck, placed the pizza on top.

  “Ha! No thanks. I have enough to last a while,” she laughed.

  “You know it’s barely December, right?” he smiled at the way she was ogling his pizza box.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Just seems a little early to be putting up the tree,” he remarked.

  “Growing up, my dad always wanted to wait. I swore when I got my own place I’d have it up the day after Thanksgiving, so in my mind, I’m actually running behind,” she answered, looking back at her house fondly.

  “The lights look good,” he commented. She beamed.

  “Are you putting any up?”

  “I head to my parent’s house for Christmas so I don’t bother.”

  “That’s no reason not to put one up. Hey, where’d you get your pizza? The place on the corner of Main?”

  “Nope. Those guys are lousy. This is from Mario’s. Little hole in the wall on Spike Street. It’s owned by two cousins that are ancient enough to have invented pizza but you won’t find better. You’re welcome to share mine,” he offered, forgetting that he needed a shower, a beer, and some sleep. He still needed to eat though and found himself wanting her company. He grabbed the pizza.

  “I can’t do that,” she replied, staring at the box.

  “C’mon. You can buy next time.” He turned toward his front door then looked back
over his shoulder when he didn’t hear footsteps.

  “Where’s Sierra?”

  “Huh? Oh. She’s out of town,” he fumbled. He really had to clear that up soon. As soon as she realized that they could be friends even if he was single.

  “Out of town?”

  “Yup. She’s a…flight attendant so she’s away a lot. Next time she’s around, I’ll introduce you,” he said. He was going to have to start writing this stuff down. Once again, talking about Sierra seemed to put her at ease and as they made their way to his door, she gave him a list of reasons for getting his own Christmas tree.

  Over pizza and beer, they played the let’s get to know each other version of twenty questions which he usually found annoying. With Anna, he wasn’t trying to impress her or, oddly enough, get into bed with her, so it was easy to unwind. He leaned back into his couch and took another bite.

  “What’s having three sisters like?”

  “Annoying as hell. I learned early to say ‘I’m sorry, I was wrong’ though,” he said around a mouthful. She tucked her legs under her all prim and proper in a way he’d never try to mimic.

  “Bet they babied you and let you get away with everything though,” she shook her head, taking a surprisingly un-dainty bite.

  “Yeah,” he admitted with a smug smile. They still did.

  “They let you think you were charming.”

  “Hey! I am charming,” he declared, polishing off his slice. She laughed and the sound made his stomach tighten with awareness.

  “To some girls,” she conceded before adding, “Like Mrs. Kramer. Or maybe Sierra.”

  “Hmm,” he mumbled. Standing up, he grabbed their empty beer bottles, asked if she wanted anything else and gave himself a moment under the pretense of getting another.

  Anna had moved to the fireplace, stone like hers, to check out his photos. Sam came to stand beside her when he returned to the room and she caught the faint smell of his soap. In one of the frames was a boy, with a wide smile that resembled Sam’s and happy eyes. In another, there was a little girl with long caramel colored hair, very serious eyes but a sweet smile.