“Hey, Pop, it’s Cait.” Before he could start in with the twenty questions about how the jobs were going, she said, “I have bad news.”
“You didn’t get hurt on the job, did you?”
“No…I didn’t—”
Before she could tell him what happened, his voice took on a frantic edge, “Is it Grace or Meg?”
“No—it’s the F1…”
The silence on the other end of the line was starting to unnerve her and just when she thought she would crack, her father asked, “Is it totaled then?”
“What? No! The passenger door is badly scratched…down to the metal. I’m out at Bob’s Gas and Gears and he’s looking up the paint codes.”
She heard him sigh and braced herself for the inquisition. “How did it happen? Where were you when you got hit?”
“If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll tell you.”
He grumbled something she couldn’t quite hear before falling silent.
“I was running late and had to pick something up at the shop. I tried to pull a U-ey on Main, but kinda ran out of road.”
“Let me get this straight. You pulled an illegal turn in the middle of Main Street while driving the F1 with our name in gold letters on the side?”
Clearing her throat, she answered, “Yes.”
“Didn’t you realize that the turning radius on that truck isn’t the same as the compact car you usually drive?” He paused, then asked, “Did you hit the tree by our shop?”
Caitlin looked over at Bob, who had stopped writing when her father’s voice started to increase in volume. The older man motioned for her to continue. Knowing there was no way Bob would stop eavesdropping on her conversation, she sighed and answered her dad’s questions. “I didn’t exactly hit the tree…I grazed it.”
“No dents?”
“Nope!” Bob answered for Caitlin.
“And you’re all right?” her father asked again.
“Yes, Pop.”
“We’ll talk later. Put Bob on.”
She handed her phone to her father’s friend and walked over to the edge of the road, staring out at the field across from Bob’s shop. She heard the distinctive song from the other side of the road and smiled as her love of nature distracted her while she waited for Bob to end the call. A trio of red-winged blackbirds sang as they perched on the fence by the small pond in the middle of the farmer’s field. They were males; their scarlet wing bars were puffed up as they sang. “Must be trying to attract a few females.”
The deep rumble of Bob’s voice had her looking over her shoulder at the F1. She had made a huge mistake that could have ended badly. Desperately trying not to think of another car, another accident that ended with her mother lying in a hospital bed, she wrapped her arms around her waist, determined to focus on the trill of songbirds and the cloudless spring sky. She succeeded until Bob called her name.
She drew in a deep breath and turned around. She hoped the repair wouldn’t cut too deeply into her savings, but had no idea how much it would cost to special order paint. Maybe they wouldn’t have to repaint the whole door, but what she knew about removing paint would fill a thimble.
“Your dad agreed it would be best to fix it right away. Can’t take a chance that the metal will rust.”
Before she could ask if she was supposed to walk to Mr. Weatherbee’s farm, Bob added, “Grace is coming to pick you up. Your dad said you could drop her at the shop and drive the car until the truck’s finished.”
“Is my dad—”
“He’s in the middle of a nasty plumbing repair—his words—so he’ll stop by on his way back through town.” She nodded and Bob added, “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of his baby and fix her right up.”
“I’ll let you get started.” She walked over to the truck and grabbed her toolbox. “I’ll start walking back to town and meet Grace halfway.”
He nodded, but his attention was already focused on the pickup.
Birds swooped low in the field, keeping her company as she trudged toward town.
Grace must have left the moment their father called. Caitlin waved to get her sister’s attention. Her sister slowed down and Cait got in. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
Grace nodded and drove toward Bob’s.
“Why aren’t you going back to town?”
Grace was frowning as she pulled into the parking lot, waved to Bob, and signaled. “I am,” her sister told her. “What I’m not going to do is pull a U-turn in the middle of the road. Besides, I imagine the supplies you came back to get for Mr. Weatherbee’s barn are still in the truck.”
“It must be tough,” Caitlin grumbled.
“What?”
“Being the perfect little sister,” Cait added.
Grace’s hands tightened on the wheel, but she didn’t say anything.
Caitlin was grateful that the ride back to town was a short one. When her sister pulled up out front and parked, Grace tossed Cait the keys without a word, slamming the driver’s side door and then the front door to the shop.
Wonder how long she’ll be giving me the silent treatment this time.
***
A few hours later, she packed up her tools, highly satisfied with the way the rebuild of Mr. Weatherbee’s barn turned out. She was just finishing loading up the car when her favorite customer came walking toward her with a bit of metal and glass dangling from his hand.
“Thought you might like to hang this one with the others.”
Cait’s heart turned over when she saw the lovely wind chime he held out to her. “It’s so beautiful.” Her eyes lit up as she reached for the intricate twist of copper, silver, and green sea glass. “I love it!”
The wizened old man’s face wrinkled up as he smiled, and she gave in to the urge and wrapped her arms around his neck before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Well now,” he said, patting her back and clearing his throat. “I’d say Joe Mulcahy raised three wonderful young women who aren’t afraid to work with their hands—or get dirty.”
“He’d be pleased to hear it,” she said, thinking about this morning.
“Don’t you fret about that F1, Caitlin.” Her gaze shot up to his, and from the look on his face, he knew the whole sorry story. His words confirmed it. “The hardest lessons are often the only ones we take to heart.” With a nudge to her shoulders, he urged her toward her car. “I’m sure Grace has a full schedule for you. Best be getting to it.”
“Thanks, Mr. Weatherbee.”
“Drive safely, you hear?”
“Yes, sir.” Apple Grove seemed smaller by the day.
With a sigh she drove back to town. When she stopped in to pick up more supplies, she realized that Grace had added the cold shoulder to the silent treatment. Just because Grace was without a car for the day—as if her sister couldn’t walk anywhere she needed to go in town.
Little sisters could be such a pain.
Feeling a little bit better now that the F1 was in Bob’s capable hands, but not quite ready to face her father—she really hated to disappoint him—she took the long way home. When an oldie came on the radio, she sang along and felt the day’s problems start to unravel. The ship’s mast Mr. McCormack used in place of a scarecrow came into view. Approaching the McCormack farm, she slowed down. Peggy and Kate’s dad had been in the fields plowing earlier, and Cait drew in a deep breath, comforted by the scent of fresh-turned dirt.
More kids than she could remember had snuck out in the middle of the night to climb up to the crow’s nest on a dare—her older sister, Meg, included. Thinking about how much trouble Meg had gotten into that time, having been rescued by the then-deputy Mitch Wallace—his first juvenile delinquent rescue, according to Mitch—made her feel just a little bit better.
Dusk lent a certain mystical quality to the air. Driving past the newly p
lanted fields, she could just imagine faeries flitting about, waving magic wands over the earth, pond, and trees as vines, flowers, and buds burst into bloom. Letting her imagination wander, she almost didn’t see the car parked at the side of the road until she was just about to pass it.
Only one car in town had a paint job like that: Doc Gannon’s Jeep. Meg told her his friends had painted it in army camo as a joke to welcome him home after his first tour.
Why had he stopped? She pulled off the road in front of his vehicle, got out, and started to look for him.
“Hey, Doc—where are you?”
The silence had her gut icing over before she chastised herself that people only parked their cars and disappeared in the movies…like the one she’d watched while trying to unwind after a long night in her woodshop.
She called out again, “Do you need help?”
When he still didn’t answer, she pulled out her cell phone. If anyone had gotten sick out on Eden Church Road, Peggy would have heard and would let her know. She was about to hit the speed dial when she heard a deep shout coming from across the road.
Turning toward the sound, she was knocked off balance by a small, black, fuzzy missile. Wrapping her arms around the animal so it wouldn’t get hurt when she landed, her backside took the brunt of the impact—and so did her phone when it hit the pavement. Luckily, it was still in one piece.
“Hey,” she said, as she looked down at the quivering puppy in her arms. “Where did you come from?”
The puppy’s tiny pink tongue bathed her face, and he nipped the end of her nose. When Cait laughed, the puppy did it again. She snuggled him close and reached for her phone.
“Don’t let go of him!”
His deep voice grabbed her attention. The tall, broad-shouldered man moving across the road toward her looked worried. Cait remembered how upset the whole town had been to hear of his injury. Reverend Smith had even started a prayer chain. Had Doc aggravated his wound somehow by chasing the puppy? She took in his broad shoulders and tall frame. Yes, he was limping but trying to ignore it.
She’d known Jack Gannon all her life—well, a younger version, before he enlisted—but for some reason, she didn’t remember him looking so ruggedly handsome. Had she only seen what she expected to in those brief glimpses of him those few times he’d been home on leave? There was definitely more here than she remembered.
Coming to stand beside her, he stared down at her for a moment before holding his hand out to her. “Are you all right?”
She had to clear her throat to answer. “Yes, I’m fine. But what about you? What happened?”
He chuckled and it sounded rusty, as though he wasn’t used to laughing. “The little rascal ran out in front of me,” he explained, pulling Cait to her feet. “I had to swerve not to hit him. I’ve been chasing him for the last fifteen minutes. Thanks for catching him.”
“All I did was show up. He’s the one who decided to jump into my arms.” She jiggled the puppy she held. “Hey, fella. What’re you doing out here?”
Jack smiled, revealing a deep dimple.
“Wait a minute. Are you Meg’s sister Caitlin?”
She felt the blood rush to her cheeks and hated that she blushed. “Yes, I am. And you’re Apple Grove’s hometown hero. We’ve been waiting for you. Welcome home, Doc.”
A dark shadow crossed his features as his lips thinned and a grimace took the place of his smile, catching her off guard. What had she said that changed his mood?
“I’m no hero.” He let go of her arm.
Unsure of how to continue, she looked up at the sky. “They’re saying we’ll have rain by midnight.”
He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. The silence weighed heavily between them. Wanting to get back to the friendly banter of just a few minutes ago, she asked, “So how was your first day back in town?”
He sighed. “I guess everyone in Apple Grove knows I got back last night.”
She smiled. “If they didn’t, Peggy and Kate wouldn’t be doing their jobs down at gossip central.”
He tilted his head to the side and his features softened—not quite a smile, but no longer frowning. The late afternoon sun glinted off his crew cut. She didn’t remember his hair having a reddish tint. How many other things had she forgotten over the years or not paid attention to?
He cleared his throat and said, “I heard about your grandfather’s truck.”
“Everyone makes mistakes—” she began only to be interrupted.
“When you’re in the service, you’re not at liberty to make poor decisions. You need to do the right thing, at the right time—second chances aren’t always an option.”
The bleak look in his eyes darkened their hue to midnight blue. Was he remembering something from his time in the navy? “Is that why you’re limping?”
Anger flashed in the depths of his gaze, warning her she’d either hit the nail on the head or was completely off the mark and had insulted him. Before she could ask, he ground out, “No.”
“Sorry,” she said, nuzzling her face in the soft fur of the little one she’d been neglecting. “Did you twist your ankle chasing after this little cutie?”
The dog chose that moment to lift his head and stare up at her. His head was cocked to the side, making his ears flop to the left, but it was his underbite and little black lips that had her forgetting all about Doc’s flinty-eyed stare. Melting into a warm puddle, she kissed the tip of the puppy’s nose.
“No.”
Startled by the hard edge in his reply, she looked up in time to see a mix of anger and anguish before Doc blinked and she was left to wonder if she’d imagined it. It was time to change the subject. “What are we going to do?”
***
It was telling that Caitlin used “we,” including him in the dilemma of what to do with the dog. “Now that he’s not running wild, let’s see if he has a collar.”
He let the dog sniff the back of his hand before stroking the soft fur on its neck. “Good boy,” he soothed. “We want to help you.”
“No collar,” she said. She tilted her head and looked up at him, and for a brief moment, he was lost in her pretty green eyes.
Wavy wisps of strawberry blonde hair escaped the braid hanging over her shoulder blades and curled against her cheek and neck. The sudden urge to tuck those wisps behind her ear had him reining in his wayward thoughts. Caitlin Mulcahy had grown up while he’d been away.
“We could call the sheriff and ask if there are any reports of a lost puppy.”
Distracted by the fullness of her bottom lip, her words didn’t register until she narrowed her eyes and reached into her pocket. Idiot, he told himself. She’s worried about the puppy.
The call had already gone through before he could think of a response. “Hi Cindy,” he heard her say. “It’s Cait. We just found a little puppy out on Eden Church Road. Any reports of a little black dog gone missing?”
His mind raced at warp speed, trying to come up with a way to keep her with him for just a little while longer.
She disconnected and looked up at him. “No one reported a missing dog.” She hesitated. “Grace is allergic to dogs…it’s why we don’t have one and why I can’t take him home.” She paused, then laid a hand on his arm. “What are we going to do? We can’t just leave him here.”
Now her question made perfect sense. She’d asked it of him before he realized the depth of her dilemma. “I can take him to my house,” he said slowly, pleased that she still held on to his forearm, whether it was intentional or not. “But with my long hours, he’ll be left alone all day. That’s not a good idea with a puppy—he could get into all kinds of trouble. Maybe you could check up on him in between your repair calls.”
A slight squeeze and then the warmth of her touch vanished. He missed the connection and sincerely hoped Cait would take him up on his suggest
ion. Feeling oddly energized, he wondered if it was because he hadn’t had a dog since before he’d left for the navy or because Caitlin would be forced to spend time with him, allowing him the luxury of exploring the confusing feelings bombarding him where the lady was concerned.
It was a win-win situation either way.
“Gracie usually gives me just enough time to get from one job to the next,” she said, settling the puppy more securely in her arms. “But we’ve had words over the fact that I can’t keep doing Meg’s jobs and my own.”
He nodded. “Is that why you scratched the truck?” The wave of red sweeping up her throat to her cheeks made him wonder if her temper would match her older sister’s. Instead of taking a step back and dropping the subject, he added, “I don’t think anyone’s ever had an accident with your grandfather’s truck.”
“I didn’t hit anyone.”
He fought against the urge to smile. He didn’t want her to think he was laughing at her—he was simply enjoying her display of temper. “Sorry,” he said, scratching the puppy’s head. “So are you going to tell me what happened?”
She started walking toward her car, puppy cuddled against her. When she was about to open the driver’s side door, he called out to her, “I thought Grace was allergic to dogs?”
She paused and her shoulders slumped. He was right behind her when she grumbled, “Damn it.”
The snort of laughter escaped. Before she could get her back up, he eased the puppy from her arms and walked to the passenger side of her car. Cradling the dog against his chest, he opened the door, settled the pup on the seat and locked him in. When she frowned at him, he told her, “Follow me,” as he opened his driver’s side door.
Unsure if she would, he made sure to drive at a snail’s pace for the first couple of minutes until he saw that she had pulled out behind him and was indeed following him home. The woman Caitlin had become intrigued him.
He’d been blindsided when she’d looked up at him with the ball of black fluff in her arms. The contrast of black and strawberry blonde caught his attention—and then she’d smiled up at him. Steadier now that there was enough distance between them, he gradually picked up speed until he was cruising along Eden Church Road toward the railroad tracks.
One Day in Apple Grove Page 3