Tell Me About Orchard Hollow

by Lin Stepp

  “Oh, there he is!” A matronly woman pointed as she entered the shop. She nudged her balding husband with her other arm. “It’s Boyce Hart.”

  She made her way to the register where Boyce sat, relaxed on a stool.

  “I just can’t believe we’ve been lucky enough to meet you today,” the woman cooed, holding out a pudgy hand, wreathed in rings.

  Following her enthusiastic handshake, Boyce took the man’s hand dutifully.

  The woman leaned toward him with bright eyes. “We bought three of your paintings when we were down here last year and took them back to hang in our den in Ohio. I just can’t tell you how many compliments we’ve had on them.”

  She gushed on, reciting the names of the paintings and reiterating the comments people made about them. Her husband added a few words, and then both launched into a discussion about their children and grandchildren.

  Boyce kept a congenial, plastic smile on his face. Why did people always assume strangers wanted to hear detailed stories about the cute things their grandchildren did?

  The man spoke then, pushing a “Retired and Happy” ballcap back from his forehead. “We just bought a vacation place on Davis Mountain over in Wear’s Valley. We decided to decorate it in a Smokies theme, so we came in today to get some more of your paintings.”

  Boyce felt grateful then for his patient congeniality. For the next thirty minutes - between other customers - he helped the couple decide on six paintings for their new house. Even if they were a little annoying to deal with, Boyce was pleased they admired his work as much as they did. And they did have money to spend.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Raynelle Bratcher come in the gallery while he finished up business with Earle and Estalee Crabtree. By this point, they were on a first name basis with Boyce, and he knew the entire story of their lives, when they retired, what medications they took and what health problems they had, and why they’d bought a vacation home in the mountains.

  Raynelle came over to give Boyce a hug when the Crabtrees left. “Lord in heaven, those two could talk.” She laughed. “How come the most tedious folks seem to have the most money?”

  “I never have figured out the answer to that one.” Boyce grinned at her. “What brought you visiting in my store, neighbor?”

  Raynelle and Vernon Bratcher owned the big country crafts store next door. Boyce always appreciated the spillover of the heavy tourist traffic from their store into his.

  With the store quiet for a moment, Raynelle perched on a tall stool beside the counter. “It sure feels good to sit down,” she said.

  Boyce propped himself on the other store stool behind the counter.

  “Sam called me last night to tell me that a neighbor of his in New York is coming down to stay in his cabin at Orchard Hollow for a few weeks.” She glanced at the desk calendar on the counter. “She ought to be here about Tuesday of next week.”

  “She?” Boyce asked.

  “It’s the young girl that lives across from Sam at The Carlton. You know, the girl he talks so much about that’s so good to him – Jenna Howell, I think her name is.”

  Boyce thought for a minute. “Socialite type that’s married to some ad executive? I do remember Sam talking about her.” He paused. “Is her husband coming down with her? Or any friends?”

  Raynelle shook her head. “No. Just the girl. Seems she’s having some sort of problems in her marriage. Needs time away to think and decide what she ought to do. Sam wants us to be nice to her.”

  Boyce rolled his eyes. “Great. Just what we need is some spoiled little New Yorker type to look after.”

  Raynelle interrupted him. “Now, that’s not nice at all, Boyce. You don’t even know the girl. And you know how you hate people typing us mountain folks all in one lump. We don’t know what this girl’s like.”

  She shook a finger at Boyce. “What we do know is that she’s Sam’s girl. Sam loves her like a daughter and says she’s been good to him. And if he’s asked us to be nice and hospitable to her, we’re going to be nice and hospitable to her.” She gave Boyce a pointed look. “Sam’s my brother, Boyce Hart, and if he cares for this girl that’s good enough for me. It ought to be good enough for you, too.”

  Boyce winced. “You’re right, Raynelle. You just caught me in a foul mood today. I’m sorry if I spouted off without thinking.”

  “Where’s Charlotte?” Raynelle looked around.

  “Still at the doctor.”

  Charlotte Bratcher was one of Boyce’s best part-time gallery workers. Right now she was heavily pregnant and visiting the doctor to be checked.

  Raynelle frowned. Charlotte was also Raynelle’s niece. “I thought she was due back before now.”

  The door opened before Raynelle could add to that thought.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Charlotte said as she let herself in. She waddled over to the counter, a hand under her belly. “That doctor made me wait nearly two hours in the waiting room. He had to run over to the hospital to deliver someone’s baby.” She shook her head. “It was just my luck to come on a day he had a delivery.”

  “Babies don’t give out their timetables of when they’re arriving,” Raynelle told her.

  “That’s for sure.” Charlotte grinned. “If so, I could make some better plans for when this baby might show up.”

  She came over to drop her purse on the counter.

  “Looks like you haven’t been very busy, Boyce.” She looked around at the empty store, tucking a hand under her big belly again, as if to help hold it up.

  It made Boyce nervous having a woman as pregnant as Charlotte in the store. He’d never been very comfortable around this baby business.

  Raynelle laughed. “Boyce had one of his busiest mornings today while you’ve been gone.”

  “Yeah, and I’m sure glad to see you back.” He looked affectionately toward Charlotte. She ran his gallery with competence the days she worked, leaving Boyce free to paint in his studio.

  Charlotte glanced over at the sales receipt still lying on the counter. The delivery address for the Crabtrees was written out in Boyce’s bold scrawl across the top.

  “Well, Lordy be, it looks like Earle and Estalee were in here today from Ohio.” She grinned. “How’s their new grandbaby?”

  Boyce shook his head. That’s why he loved Charlotte so much. She genuinely liked working with the customers and loved hearing all about their lives and families. She remembered every detail about people, too.

  “They’ve bought a vacation house over in Wear’s Valley,” Boyce told her.

  “Well, I’ll be.” Charlotte leaned against the counter. “I guess that means we’ll see a lot more of them.”

  “By the way,” Boyce interrupted. “When is your cousin Leeta Walker coming in to train as your replacement in the store?” He studied her stomach. “It looks to me like we ought to get her in here pretty soon.”

  “Well, there might be a problem there.” Charlotte wrinkled her nose.

  “No might be about it.” Raynelle grinned. “Leeta ran off with a trucker to Texas this weekend. Her folks are just sick about it. They didn’t even know the boy, and they didn’t think Leeta knew him well enough to marry him sudden-like the way she did.”

  “Well, great.” Boyce stood up in irritation. “Who’s going to work the gallery on your regular days now, Charlotte? You’ll be out at least a month to six weeks when the baby comes.”

  “I don’t know, Boyce.” She walked around the counter to snag his stool. “I’ve started calling around. But I haven’t found anyone yet.”

  He paced restlessly. “I can’t give two days a week right now to work in the gallery full-time. And Una goes to class on Tuesday and Thursday; she can’t add any more work days. The kid that works after high school and on Saturday can’t do weekday hours and we already asked Jim Graham. His accounting work takes up too much time for him to add more part-time hours here.”

  Charlotte smiled at him. “Don’t get yourself all upset, Boyce. I�
�m sure we’ll find someone. It’s just hard to locate anyone that only wants to fill in for six weeks.”

  Boyce ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve got that big contract going with Haldeman right now. I need every day up in my studio to get my paintings done for him.” He looked at Raynelle. “Maybe we can borrow one of your employees?”

  Raynelle shook her head. “Not a chance with the spring tourist traffic picking up right now. Spring break is kicking in, the wildflowers are starting to bloom, and the area is filling up with tourists. Tubing will be starting on the river soon, too. I need every employee I’ve got.”

  She snapped her fingers in the air suddenly. “Hey, I’ll tell you what. I called to talk to Sam’s girl after I spoke to Sam last night – you know, to make her feel welcome. I told her I’d use her part-time in the store to keep her busy.” Raynelle paused. “Sam told me she works volunteer in a big New York gallery. I’ll bet she could do real good here in your place. She already knows about art and all.”

  Boyce frowned.

  “I’ll let her work part-time over here for you instead of me.” Raynelle smiled at Boyce. “In return, you can go up and clean out Sam’s cabin to get it ready for her. You still have your set of keys. The place probably needs a good airing out – and you might spray for bugs, too. We want everything to be real nice for Sam’s girl.”

  Charlotte looked puzzled. “Who in the world are you talking about, Raynelle?”

  Boyce answered her. “A neighbor of Sam’s is coming down from New York to spend a month or so at his place at Orchard Hollow.”

  “No kidding? A real New Yorker?” Charlotte’s face lit up. “Wow. What do we know about her?”

  Boyce rolled his eyes.

  Raynelle cut a glance his way. “Boyce, using this New York girl for your shop is a good answer unless we come up with another before the time. You go on up to your studio and paint now. Charlotte’s here and she can mind the store.” She waved her hand at him in dismissal. “I’ll fill Charlotte in on all the details about Jenna Howell. After all, Charlotte is Sam’s cousin by marriage and she’ll want to know all about her.”

  Getting the message that the two wanted to gossip – and wanted him out of the way – Boyce left. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to run his small art gallery in Townsend. He figured a New York girl could manage for a spell if she needed to. Besides, Raynelle would be next door to help her. It would be an answer if they didn’t find someone else before Charlotte’s time.

  Driving back to his own place at Orchard Hollow, Boyce tried to remember what Sam had told him about his neighbor, Jenna Howell. Not much, actually. Just that she visited with him all the time and was good to him. He scowled. He did remember Sam had never liked her husband, Elliott Howell, very much - even if he was his nearest neighbor.

  Sam’s old setter, Dan, never liked Elliott much, either. That was a telling fact, since Dan had always been a good judge of character. Sam said the dog would pee on Elliott’s foot given any sort of a chance. Boyce chuckled at the memory.

  Pulling into the driveway of his cabin, Boyce saw Patrick, one of Dan’s offspring, heading toward his car with a welcoming bark – red ears flapping. Patrick, another Irish Setter, was a pup from a litter Dan sired. He was also Boyce’s roommate and best companion.

  After greeting Patrick, the two made their way over to Sam’s place to get it ready for the girl from New York.

  Boyce walked up on the porch of the rustic mountain house. “We’ve got some sissy New York girl coming down here to stay for a while, Patrick. Sam says we need to be nice to her. She’s going through some sort of hard time.”

  He let himself into the house and started opening the windows. He turned on all the fans to air out the house and sprayed for bugs.

  Leaving the cabin later, he stopped to look back over the comfortable living room with its worn sofas and chairs gathered around the big, rock fireplace. Perhaps it would be nice for the old place to have someone living in it for a while. It saddened him that the house had been empty for so long.

  “I sure miss Sam and Frances,” Boyce told the dog. “They were fine people and good friends. Sam helped me out many times over the years.”

  Boyce smiled to himself, reaching down to scratch the dog’s ears. “I still remember the day Sam brought you over to my door, Patrick – just a rowdy, little pup with long, floppy ears and big, brown eyes. He insisted I accept you as a gift for caring for his cabin.” Boyce chuckled. “I’m grateful for that favor, too.”

  He closed the front door and locked it. “Don’t worry, Sam. I’ll be good to your girl and see that she’s taken care of while she’s here. I owe it to you.”

  Chapter 3

  Somehow, Jenna made it through the next day by avoiding the apartment and Elliott’s company as much as possible. She visited her Mother and tried to broach the subject of Elliott’s indiscretions.

  “Marriage is a social arrangement, darling.” Her Mother studied a polished red nail abstractly. “Don’t look for the happy-ever-after fairy tale. Just enjoy all the fine things you have and the good position in society you enjoy. Believe me, most women would envy and give anything for your life. Look on the positive, dear, and overlook the little negatives. Don’t be so sensitive about Elliott’s little foibles. Not all men are constant, dear. Just remind yourself that you’re the one Elliott chose to marry. That’s what matters.”

  Jenna came home with a heavy heart. She obviously could expect little support from her parents. Her mother’s last words before giving her a breezy air kiss were, “Be smart and look the other way, dear.”

  When she let herself in her apartment later in the day, she found a message on the answering machine from Elliott. “Jenna, don’t forget our dinner at Davenport’s this evening. I’ll be home to pick you up by six o’clock.”

  “Great,” Jenna complained to herself. “The one evening I actually hoped Elliott would cancel a date and he decides to keep his promise.”

  She heaved a sigh. The dinner would undoubtedly be a small nightmare to get through.

  Glancing at the clock with resignation, she headed for the bedroom to get ready. “At least Elliott has no idea anything is different between us,” she said to herself. “He pays so little attention to my moods or emotions, he probably won’t even notice anything is wrong.”

  A short time later, Elliott drove them to the restaurant in a new gold Cadillac convertible he proudly announced the company gave him as a bonus. They sat at a cozy table by the window where they could see the sun set over the water and watch the boats go by in the harbor. Jenna spent a lot of time looking out the window – wishing she was anywhere but with her husband.

  Elliott oozed charm all evening. He gave Jenna his undivided attention, toasted her with his wine glass, and held her hand across the table. It was all Jenna could do not to snatch her hand from his in disgust, remembering a similar – but sultrier - scene with Elliott and his secretary in the restaurant only yesterday.

  After dinner, Elliott handed her a red velvet box tied with lavish gold ribbon.

  Jenna offered a forced smile. “What is it?” she said, taking the box.

  “Open it and see,” Elliott replied, smiling back.

  She did, and found a key on a sparkling gold key ring shaped like a heart.

  “What is this?” She looked up at him, puzzled.

  “It’s the key to the Cadillac we drove to Davenport’s tonight.” Elliott toasted her with a wineglass. “I’m giving it to you for your birthday, darling. It will be your very own car – a special present for a special girl on her twenty-second birthday.”

  “I thought you said the car was a bonus from the company.” Jenna frowned.

  Elliott flashed her a broad smile. “Well, it was in a way – the company’s gold bonus for most ad sales. But I decided to give it to you rather than keep it. You don’t have a car of your own, and I thought it was time you did. Besides, you can use it to take some outings down to your parents’ place at the
Vineyard or outside the city for a day trip while I’m in Paris. It will keep you from feeling so lonely.”

  “I hoped you would take me to Paris with you.” Jenna studied the key ring in her hand as she spoke, not wanting Elliott to see her eyes.

  “Well, darling, you know that’s not possible,” Elliott answered smoothly. “The company will have me busy every minute setting up the new business there, and I’ll have no time for sightseeing. Besides, the firm made it clear this trip is strictly for business only, and they put the word out emphatically that there shouldn’t be any thoughts about bringing someone along this time.”

  He lifted his hands expressively. “I hoped to take you, darling, but, I can’t. Besides, you know you wouldn’t like being there on your own even if I could take you, and I wouldn’t want you wandering around the city without a companion or chaperone while I work. It would be dangerous. We’ll plan a trip to Paris later when we can savor the city together. Won’t that be more fun? It will be something both of us can look forward to. I’ll try to find us a nice place to stay while I’m there this trip. When we go to Paris together, it should be a trip for both of us to cherish and remember – not a business trip where I am working all the time and you have to see the sights by yourself.”

  Jenna watched Elliott’s face while he talked. What a smooth liar, she thought. And he seemed so utterly charming while he lied. It was easy to believe anything he said – even when this time Jenna knew it wasn’t even remotely true.

  “I thought the car would help make up a little for you not being able to go,” he said, reaching across the table to take her hand. “You do like it, don’t you? You said the car was wonderful when we were driving to Davenport’s in it.”

  “Yes, it is wonderful.” Jenna answered honestly. It would be good to have her own car rather than borrowing Elliott’s to go to Orchard Hollow.

  Elliott looked thoughtful then. “I’m flying out to Paris early in the morning, you know, and am scheduled to be in Paris at least six weeks – through April and possibly into May. It may take more than six weeks to get the new Abercrombie branch up and running. I’ll miss you, Jenna, being away from you for so long. We’ve never been apart this long before.”