Crazy Little Thing Called Love

by Molly Cannon

  “And I’m happy to stand in if it makes her happy.”

  “Thanks. You’re very sweet.” She decided to quit overthinking everything. He was probably right. Daphne wanted to fit in with her class. That was all. And Donny Joe had proved to be a godsend. Etta was convinced hanging out with Donny Joe had been the main thing keeping her niece’s homesickness at bay. So, if she wanted to invite him to show and tell, Etta wouldn’t make a fuss. Just because it was “Take Your Father to School Day” didn’t have to mean this was part of her niece’s plan to find her long lost daddy. Because believing Donny Joe was her father would only end in disappointment for Daphne, and Etta wasn’t sure she would know how to help her handle it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  After the hole was completely dug out, and the wood stacked nearby, Donny Joe declared they were done for the time being. “I’ll come back later and let the wood burn down. And after that the ham will need to be prepared and buried.”

  “You have to show me the prep you do for the ham.”

  “Sure, it’s nothing special, but for now we better get back. I need to run to the store for a few hours.”

  They rowed back across the creek, and she helped pull the canoe back up onto the bank.

  She expected him to head straight for the golf cart but instead he stopped at the edge of the creek and stared at the slow, barely moving water. She reached out her hand to touch his arm, but stopped herself in time. “Hey, I thought you needed to get to the store.”

  “I do, but I just realized we’ve never discussed phase two. Things are moving right along, so now seems like as good a time as any and it will only take a minute.”

  She grunted. “Phase two? We haven’t even completed phase one by opening, yet. Should we be talking about phase two?”

  He shook his head. “Well, weddings and conferences are a no-brainer if we want to make money. But we can’t afford to ignore other possibilities.”

  She walked a few steps away, looking up and down the creek bed. “What possibilities? I see a creek.”

  “Exactly. Which means folks can fish and go for nature walks. Make mud pies, if they want. Like you used to do. Commune with nature just a few feet from the Inn’s back door.” He pointed to the canoes sitting on the bank. “Row a boat down a stream. That’s got real appeal for city people wanting to relax and get away from the hustle and bustle.”

  She considered it. “Okay. Maybe. You might have a point.”

  “And if we carve out some trails, put a little work into cleaning up some of the underbrush, it will add a whole other dimension to the place. And it won’t cost a bunch of money. Just sweat equity. Add outstanding food, comfortable accommodations located not too far from the Metroplex and I believe we can make a go of this place.”

  “That doesn’t sound involved enough to be called Phase Two. I’m no expert on phases, but to deserve its own number, it should involve more than that.”

  “You’re right.” He pointed to a large old tree set back from the bank. “Eventually if all goes according to plan, I intend to build a tree house in that very tree overlooking the creek. Not just an ordinary tree house, either. It will be a full-sized house with a porch wrapping all the way around it, and a big old bed where you can sleep under the stars if the weather’s right. But it will have AC and a small kitchen, and a shower outside and a big bathtub inside. I saw one in a magazine a while back and thought it looked like just the thing for that old tree. What do you think?”

  “A tree house? That seems awfully ambitious to me.”

  “It’s my answer to the prissy rooms inside.”

  “So, now you’re saying you don’t like the rooms at the house?”

  “The rooms inside are fine, but if you were a newlywed would you want to share a bathroom all the way down the hall with some other couple? Not very romantic, in my opinion.”

  “No, but—”

  “So, this tree house will be just one of our honeymoon suites.”

  “Just one? Oh, goodness, let me guess what else. A pop-up tent under the gazebo?”

  “Of course not, smarty pants. Boy, I’d hate to go on a honeymoon with you. For your information, I’ve already purchased a railroad car that’s been renovated and turned into a sweet little cabin. I have my eye on a 1950s Airstream trailer I located online. It needs a bit of work but it won’t take much, and it’ll be in mint condition. We’ll set them up around the property and clear out lighted trails that will lead right to the Inn’s back door if the newly married couples care to ever come up for air. Otherwise they can have meals delivered right to their door.”

  “Those actually sound kind of wonderful, but aren’t you jumping the gun?”

  “We can’t afford not to think big picture.”

  “Big picture is I need to find a cook, and wait staff and someone to run the day-to-day end of things. I can’t afford to think beyond that right now.”

  He nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

  Etta walked up the bank. “And on that cheerful note I better get back and check on Daphne. Beulah could probably use a break.” She climbed back into the golf cart and waited for him to join her.

  “They said they were going to be cutting out some patterns after breakfast,” Donny Joe said as he got into the driver’s seat and started it up. “Daphne wants to make some stuffed cats to go with the dragons.”

  “Blame it on Gabe. She’s pretty taken with your cat.”

  “He’s pretty taken with her. I’ve never seen anything like it. That cat barely tolerates me, and that’s only because I feed him.”

  Etta smiled at the wonder in his voice. “They do seem to communicate on a deeper level.”

  They bounced over the bumpy grass and through the open gate. After she hopped out to reclose it, she said, “I bet they’ll be ready for lunch by now.”

  His eyebrows shot up in expectation. “Are you cooking? I could eat something.”

  “You always seem to be hungry, Donny Joe.”

  He shot her a wolfish glance that she ignored. She was beginning to think he couldn’t help himself when it came to flirting.

  They rode along the rest of the way without talking, and for once it was a comfortable, unstrained silence. At least for the moment they seemed to have found a way to co-exist, and Etta was glad. Donny Joe drove the cart into the yard and parked by the garage again.

  “What’s he doing here?” he demanded, pointing at the man pulling weeds in the flowerbed on the side of the house.

  Etta followed his gesture to see who he was talking about. “Mr. Nelson? Oh, he’s our new gardener. Apparently Grammy promised him a job. Do you know him?”

  “I know him, and she never mentioned it to me.” His voice turned cold and distant.

  “From what I can tell he seems nice enough, and Beulah vouched for him, too.” She explained, but wondered at the sudden change in his mood.

  Donny Joe got out of the cart and started gathering his tools. “I guess she figured it wasn’t any of my business.”

  Etta jumped out of the cart and hurried around beside him. “Of course it’s your business. But don’t worry. He’s not costing us any extra money. He moved into the old room above the garage. He insists on paying a small amount of rent and as long as we feed him, he’ll do all the gardening for free. It seemed like a good bargain to me.”

  “That’s fine,” he said. But he didn’t look like he thought it was fine.

  “Is there something about Mr. Nelson I should know? Like I said, Beulah seems to think highly of him.” Etta knew he was the man who’d broken Beulah’s heart all those years ago.

  “I’m sure he’ll do a good job on the yard for you, Etta. That’s all that matters.” With that he started stalking away toward his yard without a backward glance.

  Etta went after him. “That’s not all that matters. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “It’s not important, Etta. Just drop it.”

  “I’m not going to drop it, so you might as well tell me,
Donny Joe.”

  He stopped walking abruptly and turned to face her. “Okay. Do you want to know what’s wrong? Noah Nelson is the man responsible for sending me away that summer.”

  “Why would he do that?” Etta was floored.

  “He was protecting his sons. Somebody had to pay, and he was going to make sure it wasn’t them.”

  “They were in on the vandalism, too?” She could feel her temper rising.

  “Hell, it was their idea. It was their father’s cans of paint we used.”

  Now she was really indignant. “That is so unfair. Why were you singled out?”

  He shrugged like it didn’t matter. “My grandmother couldn’t afford a lawyer, and he convinced the judge I was the ring leader.”

  “I’ve heard enough. I’m going to go fire him right now.” Etta took off across the yard, marching back toward the Inn as fast as her feet could carry her.

  “Hold on, there.” Donny Joe caught up to her in a few quick strides. “There’s no reason to fire anyone. And your grandmother must have wanted to give him the job.”

  “I don’t care what Grammy wanted. She’s not in charge anymore. I am, and as far as that goes, you are too. You have an investment in the Hazelnut Inn, and if you don’t want him here that’s all I need to know. Beulah will just have to understand.” Broken heart or not.

  He let out a giant sigh. “Slow down, Etta. First of all, I overreacted. I was surprised to see him here, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting it, so I let it throw me for a loop. Everson is a small town, and believe me, I learned to co-exist with Noah Nelson and that whole bunch a long time ago.”

  “But—” Etta tried to interrupt, but he kept talking right over her.

  “And second of all, whatever else he may be, Noah Nelson is the best gardener in all of Everson. We’d be crazy not to let him use his talent to fix up the grounds. Especially if his services are free.”

  Etta stuck out her chin and tapped her foot on the ground in a fast and furious rhythm. “I don’t like it. Now that I know what he did, I’m going to be tempted to poison his food.”

  Donny Joe moved closer, and she had to look up to see his face. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Poison his food? Probably not, but I could doctor it with extra hot sauce and chili powder. Beulah mentioned he has an ulcer.” She was going to have a very serious discussion with Beulah about all this first chance she got. And Beulah said she loved this man. How could she after what he’d done to Donny Joe? Because she knew her cousin adored Donny Joe. It didn’t add up.

  Donny Joe reached out and tugged on one of her curls. “That is the nicest thing anyone has ever offered to do for me.”

  Etta moved closer to his big frame. “Really? Don’t forget I offered to fire him, too.”

  His voice was soft, his expression sincere. “I won’t forget. It means a lot, Etta.”

  She thought he might kiss her. He towered over her and his hair glinted golden in the hazy winter sun, forming a halo around his head. She wasn’t about to mistake him for an angel anytime soon, but she realized if he wanted to kiss her right now she wouldn’t object.

  The spell was broken when Daphne wandered up holding Gabe in her arms. The old yellow cat hung sideways over her shoulder and had a pink bow on his head. He seemed perfectly content with his place in the world. “Hey, Aunt Etta, Beulah’s looking for you.”

  Etta jumped away from Donny Joe and tried to compose herself. “Thanks, Daphne. What have you done to that poor cat?”

  “I just brushed him so he’ll look pretty when we start having guests.”

  Donny Joe reached down and scratched his head. “I’m not sure about the pink bow, Daphne.”

  “He likes it. Don’t you, Gabe?” She talked baby talk to the cat, and he rewarded her with a head butt and loud purring. “See? Anyway, Beulah’s in the kitchen.”

  “Okay. I’ll go see what she wants.” She started back toward the Inn.

  “Hey, Etta, if you want to help me prep the hams I’ll be doing it this afternoon.”

  “Sure. Give me a call when you’re ready.”

  He waved and trotted off to his back door.

  Donny Joe was halfway across the yard when he heard Daphne call out to him. “Hey, Donny Joe, wait. Can I ask you a question?”

  He turned around and stopped, watching her approach with Gabe still in tow. “Sure. What can I do ya for, kiddo?”

  She giggled then asked shyly, “You play soccer, right?”

  He nodded. “I know my way around the old pitch. Do you need a few pointers?”

  “Well, kind of. I was hoping you could help coach my soccer team.”

  “Coach? I thought one of the parents usually did that?”

  “Well, Rose’s dad tries, but he’s not any good. He kicks with his toe and only wants us to kick the ball up the field. I don’t think he understands passing at all.”

  Donny Joe nearly laughed. Daphne seemed so disgusted by the poor man’s lack of soccer knowledge. “It sounds like you should be the coach.”

  Gabe was getting restless so she bent down and set him on the ground. “I’ve been playing since I was five, and Mama’s always been my coach. She played at a junior college for a couple of years, you know.”

  Donny Joe folded his arms over his chest. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Well, she did, and if she was here I could ask her, but she’s not. So will you do it? Please?”

  Donny Joe blinked. Rose’s dad had actually asked for his help before, but now Daphne had gone and played the “my mother’s not here” card. If he said no now, he’d feel like a jerk. It would probably be fun, so why not? “This means I get to boss you around, you know.”

  She did a little jig and her blonde braids bounced up and down. “Is that a yes?”

  “Sure. Who do I need to talk to?”

  Daphne hugged him around the waist. “Thank you, Donny Joe. I’ll call Rose, and her dad will fill you in on everything.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She ran off toward the Inn and stopped suddenly. “Our team’s name is the Fireflies.”

  “Great.”

  “And our uniforms are pink, so you’ll need a pink shirt, too.” She waved and ran the rest of the way to the house.

  “Great. But I’m not wearing a pink bow like Gabe.” He shook his head and made his way to his back door.

  Etta couldn’t find a minute to get Beulah alone to talk to her about Noah and Donny Joe. First Noah was there wanting to take a trip to the nursery to pick out flowers for the pots he’d found in the garage. He planned to group them on the porches and back patio areas to make them welcoming places to relax for the guests. And if the weather turned cold they could be moved to the garage to survive a freeze. Beulah offered to drive the VW bus, and Etta told them to go without her. She trusted them to pick out something pretty. Besides she didn’t trust herself not to say something to Noah. She wanted to confront him with every fiber in her being, but decided to talk to Beulah first. She didn’t need to go off half-cocked and make things awkward. Especially since he was living with them now.

  Donny Joe called a few hours later and said he was ready to get the hams ready to go in the ground, so she dropped everything and ran next door, knocking on his back door.

  He yelled for her to come in, and she found him in the kitchen standing over three of the biggest hams she’d ever seen. He was pulling out long sheets of tin foil and laying them on the kitchen counter. “Now, if I let you watch this, you can’t get all chef-like and judgmental.”

  “I won’t.” She walked over and tried to look at the ingredients lining the counter.

  He blocked her view. “Do you promise?”

  She made a little cross over her chest with her finger. “I promise. Cross my heart. Hope to die and all that. Geez, Donny Joe, if you didn’t want me to see the master at work, you shouldn’t have invited me.”

  “It’s not that. I’m a little nervous seeing as you’re such a fancy cook. That’s a
ll.” He sounded so young and vulnerable that Etta’s heart did an odd little leap in her chest.

  “I’m here to learn something new. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “You’re right. There’s no time to waste.” He positioned each of the hams in the middle of a stack of the foil. Then he grabbed some large cans of crushed pineapple and opened them with the can opener and set them aside. Some dry mustard was up on a shelf and he rubbed it all over the skin of the hams. Then he sprinkled a full bag of brown sugar over each ham and followed that by pouring a giant can of crushed pineapple over the top. Then he used pineapple rings to decorate the hams and folded the foil around each one.

  She watched without commenting. Once he was all done he looked up and asked, “Well, what do you think?”

  “Timeless, traditional combination of ingredients and the slow cooking will caramelize the sugar and the pineapple. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. I bet it will be delicious, Donny Joe.”

  He looked relieved. “Well, good. I’m glad I got your stamp of approval.”

  “So, what now? When do you put them in the hole?”

  “I’m heading back over there now. I’ll load everything into my truck and drive the long way around. Then I have to build the fire and let it burn down. Then the hams go in and I’ll bury them. Simple enough, but I’ll spend the night over there. Just to keep an eye on things.”

  “Spend the night? It’ll be freezing out there. You shouldn’t have to do that.”

  “It’ll be fun. I have my sleeping bag, and the old house will block most of the wind.”

  “Well, in that case I better get back over and get busy on the side dishes. I’m trying to get as much done ahead of time as I can so I won’t be frazzled when the guests arrive.”

  “Remember I’m picking the Calhouns up at the airport at three tomorrow.” He’d volunteered to make a run to the airport. He’d washed and waxed Beulah’s VW bus and it looked all spiffy. They’d ordered a magnetic sign for the side that advertised the Hazelnut Inn. So, they were ready for business. “You get out of here and do whatever you need to do, Etta. But try to relax and enjoy yourself a little. We’re all in this together now, and it’s all going to be just fine.”