Renovating the Richardsons

by Virginia Smith

  “There’s Susan and Justin.” She pointed out the couple, who were paying scant attention to the mayor but were engaged primarily in gazing into each other’s eyes. Nearby stood Thomas, his expression a little strained, in Millie’s opinion. But at least he wasn’t scowling.

  Jerry appeared to be wrapping up his speech. “But I know you didn’t come out this evening to hear me talk.”

  “He’s got that right,” Al said, and several heads in their vicinity nodded.

  “I asked Ms. Barnes if she’d like to say a few words,” Jerry announced, “but she’d rather let her work speak for her. So let’s take a look, shall we?” The megaphone pointed upward toward the tower. “Ready when you are.”

  Millie squeezed Albert’s hand. “This is so exciting.”

  An opening appeared in the canvas, and a tantalizing glimpse of color peeked through. The fabric rippled and shivered for a moment as the pair apparently experienced some difficulty. Then one side dropped. Little Norm scurried around the platform and slipped behind the remaining curtain, and a few seconds later the rest of the canvas fell.

  Millie covered her mouth, astonished by intricacy of the artwork hovering over the town.

  A peaceful pasture wrapped around the lower part of the barrel, gentle swells in the grass—which was a beautiful deep green, she noted with satisfaction—giving the impression of stretching far into the distance to a misty horizon. Sunlight sparkled on a narrow stream, where a goose and six fuzzy goslings splashed in the shallows. Across an azure blue sky flew a flock of geese in V-formation beneath ornate lettering that proudly proclaimed, Goose Creek, Ke—

  Well, that was all Millie could see from this vantage point, but presumably the word continued around the other side.

  An admiring gasp rose from the watchers. For one moment everyone stood with their heads thrown back, soaking in the beauty of the town’s new icon. As one, thunderous applause rose toward the pair on the tower, who raised their fists in victory.

  Al turned off the street and navigated the car up the cracked driveway. One blinding sliver of sun showed above the western horizon, and the suffocating temperature had finally cooled to a tolerable level. The day’s excitement had taken its toll on him, and he looked forward to bedtime more than any day in recent memory.

  Millie twisted sideways in the passenger seat. “I did something you don’t know about.”

  If he weren’t so tired he might feel some alarm. “Can it wait until tomorrow?”

  “No, it can’t. Please stop the car in the front.”

  When his wife had something rolling around in that lovely head of hers, any resistance on his part was a wasted effort. Resigned, he steered around the semicircle and came to a halt beside the front porch. When the engine had been shut off and the keys removed, he faced her. “Okay, out with it.”

  Her eyes moved as she searched his face. “You know I love you, don’t you, Albert?”

  Uh-oh. This could be serious.

  “And I love you,” he assured her.

  “When we bought this house, I really thought you’d come to love it like I do.” Her hands clutched the seatbelt, which stretched across her shoulder. “I’m sorry. That was selfish of me.”

  In the decades since their wedding, apologies had become a necessary part of their marital language. He’d grown used to them. But this one felt deeper than the simple, “I’m sorry,” when she shrank his favorite sweater in the laundry.

  “We’re together. That’s all that matters.” He reached for her hand. “I mean that.”

  A soft smile curved the lips he had loved to kiss for more years than he could remember. “Thank you.” Then a dimple punctuated each cheek. “Let’s go inside.”

  Together they climbed the steps and entered the house. Rufus charged down the hall, toenails clacking on the hardwood and his bark echoing up the stairs.

  “It’s us, you dimwit.” Al bent to assure the creature with an affectionate pat.

  “Come on.” Millie tugged on his arm, pulling him down the hallway, through the dining room, and out the French doors onto the verandah.

  Rufus raced ahead of them into the yard, once again barking with fury, and startled a pair of squirrels who leaped off the birdfeeders and made a dash to the safety of the trees. Okay, maybe not such a dimwit after all.

  Drawing him to the edge of the porch, she turned with a wide grin. “What do you think?”

  “About?” He looked up. The yard stretched before him, peaceful in the rapidly diminishing light. A pair of Canada geese settled at the edge of the cattails beyond the pond, its surface glassy in the still evening air. The swing in the gazebo—

  Wait. Circling the gazebo was a row of shrubs that had not been there this morning. Even in the dim light he recognized the shape of the greenery.

  “Camelias.”

  He dropped her hand and left the porch, hurrying across the grass to inspect the shrubs. Blooms gone at this time of year, but camelias without a doubt.

  He whirled toward his wife. “You bought me camelias.”

  But she shook her head. “I didn’t buy them. I rescued them.”

  Her meaning dawned on him, and he turned once again to the plants. “Do you mean these are my camelias?”

  Grinning, she nodded. “I called Franklin and asked him to save them. The Wainright boys helped with the planting this morning while you were at the ballgame.” A delightful laugh erupted from her. “Do you like my surprise?”

  He did not know enough words to express his feelings. Instead, he enfolded her in an embrace and nuzzled her neck with a kiss that made her giggle like a girl.

  Standing there with the light disappearing and the frogs in the pond beginning their nightly serenade, Al relished the feel of his wife’s arms around him. Where was home, if not right here?

  “Albert, look.” She turned in his embrace and pointed at the sky. “Fireworks.”

  An explosion of fiery color blossomed in the night sky. Resting his chin on his wife’s head, Al watched the sparks fizzle, only to be replaced by a new and brighter burst.

  Suddenly Millie stiffened. She stepped away and turned a wide-eyed look on him. “I think Violet’s rubbing off on me. The fireworks reminded me of Susan and Justin, and I thought, out with the old, in with the new.” A hand rose to cover her mouth. “You don’t think we’re old and on our way out, do you?”

  Al adopted a wolfish grin. “Come here, Mildred Richardson, and let me show you a thing or two about fireworks.”

  He hooked her waist with an arm, pulled her to him, and smothered her giggle with his kiss.

  Acknowledgments

  I always approach writing the second (and third, and fourth) book in a series with a touch of apprehension, and Renovating the Richardsons was no exception. Will the characters I fell in love with in The Most Famous Illegal Goose Creek Parade be as appealing in their continuing roles? If new readers pick this book up first, will they be as entranced by Goose Creek as those who visited my fictional town in the previous stories? In the opinion of my first readers (who include my mother, so maybe they’re not exactly impartial), the answer is, “Yes!” When you’ve turned the last page, I hope you’ll agree.

  Once again, I’m grateful to a lot of people for helping me tell this story. First, to my brainstorming team, Anna Zogg and Marilynn Rockelman, both incredible brainstorming partners and talented authors themselves. I do not exaggerate when I say that without them, this book wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun to write or to read. Thanks also to my mom, Amy Barkman, for helping me clean up the first draft and for providing a never-ending source of encouragement.

  I deeply appreciate Jerry and Cindie Selbo (the real ones, not their fictitious namesakes) for allowing me to use their names in the Goose Creek series. Even though the characters who bear their names are completely fictional, it takes a certain amount of trust and courage to let someone use your name in a book. Most of all, I treasure their friendship.

  I’ve had the pleasure o
f knowing two incredibly skilled massage therapists for many years. Shawn Galloway and Susan Ashley have provided me with countless hours of muscle therapy and relaxation that enabled me to write the massage sections believably. And I appreciate Linda Fugate, my insurance agent, for helping me figure out what would typically be covered when Millie and Al found mold and squirrels in their house.

  Thanks to my agent, Wendy Lawton, for being my professional champion and my personal friend.

  I’m truly fortunate to work with the talented folks at Harvest House Publishers. I hesitate to mention names because I’m so aware that there’s an entire team of people with whom I never interact who have worked hard to make this book the best it can be. I am so thankful for you! I do want to thank Jeff Marion, who has been my contact regarding the covers for this series. (Aren’t they delightful?!) And especially my tremendous editor, Kathleen Kerr. Her skill and professionalism have been the subject of countless prayers of gratitude. Kathleen, when you see this book in its final form, go indulge yourself with your favorite form of chocolate. You deserve it.

  My husband, Ted Smith, deserves some sort of medal for putting up with me when I have a book in my head that I’m trying to get down on paper. Ted, thank you. How could I write about happy marriages without you, my role model?

  Most of all, thank you to Jesus, the Source of true creativity that flows like a never-ending river.

  And thank you, dear reader, for accompanying me on another trip to Goose Creek. Do me a favor, would you? Drop me a note and tell me what you think of the book. You can find me online at www.virginiasmith.org or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ginny.p.smith.

  About the Author

  Virginia Smith is the author of more than two dozen inspirational novels and 50 articles and short stories. Her fondness for cats took on new meaning during the writing of this book, when she discovered a litter of feral kittens living beneath her gazebo. Now registered with her local humane society as an official foster mom to homeless cats, Ginny finds immense satisfaction in nursing newborn and sick kittens back to health to prepare them for their forever homes. She lives less than ten miles from the small town that is the real-life inspiration for Goose Creek. An avid reader with eclectic tastes in fiction, Ginny writes in a variety of styles, from lighthearted relationship stories to breath-snatching suspense. Visit her website to find out more about her and her books. www.VirginiaSmith.org.

  Don’t miss the rest of the story!

  In this first book of the Tales from the Goose Creek B&B, you’ll fall in love with a small town that feels like coming home. Its quirky characters and their many shenanigans will make you laugh out loud as they touch a place in your heart.

  Even though retirement is still three years away, Al Richardson is counting the days. He anticipates many enjoyable years in which every day feels like Saturday. But Al’s wife, Millie, has different plans for their retirement. When she learns that a Victorian-era home is up for sale, Millie launches a full-blown campaign to convince Al that God’s plan for them is to turn that house into a B&B.

  But a B&B won’t be the only change for the small Kentucky town. A new veterinarian has hung up her shingle, but she’s only got one patient—the smelly dog belonging to her part-time receptionist. And sides are being taken in the issue of the water tower, which needs a new coat of paint… but no one can agree who should paint it.

  The situation is coming to a head. Who could have imagined a town protest over a water tower? And who would believe it could culminate in an illegal parade?

  Get lost in a novel that reminds you why you love reading.

  Bonus!

  This bonus e-only short story is the perfect introduction to Goose Creek. Set in the years before the Richardsons launch their bed and breakfast scheme, the quirky residents of the small Kentucky town are all in a tizzy over the upcoming Fall Festival. Alison, Al and Millie’s headstrong daughter, astounds everyone with the news that she’s getting married—in three weeks—to a Colombian! As her parents frantically try to stop the nuptials, Dr. Horatio, Goose Creek’s beloved veterinarian, is determined to solve the mystery of the six-toed kittens that have been popping up all over town.

  About the Publisher

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  To learn more about Harvest House books and to read sample chapters, visit our website:

  www.harvesthousepublishers.com

  HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS

  EUGENE, OREGON

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