“Who asked you to look at the piano?” she asked with hesitation.
“Lydia Dunmore. She called awhile ago and said she’d like an estimate. Told me her granddaughter Sheila was here and would let me in.” He shuffled his feet across the wooden planks on the porch. “I presume that would be you?”
Sheila opened her mouth to reply, but the sharp ringing of the telephone halted her words. “I’d better get that. Be right back.” She shut the door before Dwaine had a chance to say anything more.
Not knowing how long he might be expected to wait, Dwaine flopped into the wicker chair near the door. He couldn’t believe how nervous the young woman seemed. She acted like she didn’t believe Lydia Dunmore had called and asked him to give an estimate on the piano.
She must not be from around here. Most everyone I know is pretty trusting. Dwaine hadn’t been able to get a good look at her face through the small opening in the doorway, but he had seen her eyes. They were blue, like a cloudless sky, and they’d revealed obvious fear.
Sure hope she comes back soon and lets me in. Now that the sun’s going down, it’s getting cold out here. Dwaine stuffed his hands inside his jacket pockets while he tapped his foot impatiently. Finally, he heard the door creak open. A young woman with jet-black hair curling around her face in soft waves stared at him.
“Sorry for making you wait so long,” she said. “That was my grandmother on the phone. She called to let me know you were coming to look at the piano.”
Dwaine stood. “Does that mean I can come in?”
She nodded, and her cheeks turned pink as a sunset. “I’m Sheila Nickels.”
Dwaine stuck out his hand and was relieved when she shook it. Maybe now that her grandmother had confirmed the reason for his visit, Sheila wouldn’t be so wary.
“It’s nice to meet you. I take it you’re not from around here?”
She motioned him to follow as she led the way to the living room. “I grew up in Casper, but twelve years ago my folks moved to Fresno, California. My father’s a minister and was offered a job at a church there. I was fourteen at the time.”
“So you’re a Christian, then?”
She smiled. “I have been since I was twelve and went to Bible camp. That’s when I acknowledged my sins and accepted Christ as my personal Savior.”
Dwaine grinned back at her. “I’m a Christian, too, and it’s always nice to meet others who have put their faith in the Lord.”
She nodded. “I agree.”
“What brings you to this part of the country?” he asked.
Sheila motioned to the array of boxes stacked in one corner of the room. “Grandma recently moved to Mountain Springs Retirement Center, and she’ll be putting this old house on the market soon.”
“Which is why she wants to sell the piano?”
“Right. Grandma called me a few weeks ago and asked that I come here. She said she’d like me to choose an item from the attic—something I felt was special. Since she needed it done before the house sold, I decided to take a week’s vacation and fly here before everything’s been gone through.” Sheila sucked in her lower lip. “She asked each of her granddaughters to come, and I’m the first to arrive.”
“Have you found what you wanted yet?” he questioned.
She shook her head. “It’s an old doll I’m looking for, but there was no sign of it in the attic.”
Dwaine massaged the bridge of his nose. “Hmm … did you ask your grandmother about it? Maybe she moved the doll to some other part of the house.”
Sheila pulled out the wooden piano bench and sat down. “I would have asked her when we were on the phone a few minutes ago, but I didn’t want to leave you on the porch in the cold.”
“If you’d like to call her back, you two can talk about the missing doll while I take a look at this old relic,” he said, motioning to the piano. “I should have an estimate by the time you get off the phone.”
“That sounds fine.” Sheila turned and walked out of the room.
Dwaine moved over to uncover the piano and smiled. She’s sure cute. Guess I’ll have to wait till she comes back to find out if she’s married or not.
CHAPTER 2
Sheila returned to the living room ten minutes later, a feeling of defeat threatening to weigh her down. She’d come all the way to Casper for nothing.
She tossed aside the white sheet on the aging, olive green sofa and groaned. “I can’t believe it!”
Dwaine sat on the piano bench, writing something on a notepad, but he looked up when she made her comment. “Bad news?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice and afraid she might break into tears if she related her conversation with Grandma.
Dwaine’s forehead wrinkled. “What’d your grandmother say about the doll?”
“It’s gone.” She paused and drew in a deep breath. “Grandma said she sold it to you.”
He shook his head. “I’ve never met Lydia Dunmore. The first contact I’ve had with her was today, when she asked me to appraise this.” He motioned toward the piano with his elbow.
“She said she took the Bye-Lo doll to The Older the Better Antique Shop last fall and sold it.”
“That may be, but I wasn’t the owner back then. I bought the place from Bill Summers two months ago.”
Sheila sniffed. “Guess I’d better talk to him then. Do you have his home phone number or address?”
Dwaine fingered the small dimple in the middle of his chin. That, along with his sandy-blond hair and dark brown eyes, made him the most attractive man Sheila had met in a long time. Of course, looks aren’t everything, she reminded herself. Kevin Carlson was good-looking, too, and he broke my heart.
“Bill moved to Canada right after he sold the store. I’m sorry to tell you this, but he’s in the early stages of Alzheimer’s, so his daughter and son-in-law came to Casper and moved him up there to be near them.”
Sheila tapped her fingernails along the edge of the couch. “Are you saying he probably wouldn’t remember what became of my grandmother’s doll, even if I could contact him?”
“Exactly. The poor man wouldn’t have been able to handle the details of selling the store if his family hadn’t taken over and done all the paperwork.” Dwaine shook his head. “It’s sad to see an older person forced to give everything up when some unexpected illness overtakes his body or mind.”
Sheila nodded and swallowed around the lump in her throat, feeling sad for Bill Summers and thankful Grandma was still fairly healthy. Then her thoughts went to the doll she would never have, and unable to control her emotions, she covered her face and let the tears flow.
Dwaine stayed on the piano bench a few seconds, unsure of what to say or do. He didn’t want Sheila to misread his intentions if he offered comfort. He wrestled with his thoughts a moment longer and finally realized he couldn’t remain seated and do nothing but watch her cry.
He hurried across the room and took a seat beside her on the couch. “Would you like me to call someone—your husband, grandmother, or some other relative?”
“I–I’m not married,” she said with a sniffle. “And I don’t want to bother Grandma. She’s got enough problems of her own right now.” Sheila lifted her head and looked at him through dark, heavy lashes. Her blue eyes were luminous behind the tears that filled them, and her chin trembled as she made a feeble attempt at smiling. “Sorry for blubbering like that. I don’t know what came over me.”
“I’m not married either, and I may not know a lot about women, but I do have a sister who can get pretty emotional at times, so I try to be understanding when someone’s in tears.”
When Sheila offered him another half smile, Dwaine fought the urge to wipe away the remaining moisture on her cheeks. He couldn’t explain the reason this dark-haired beauty made him feel protective. He’d just met the woman, so it made no sense at all.
“I’d like to help you find that doll,” Dwaine announced. Her eyes brightened some. “How?”
“The
first place I want to look is my antique shop. Even though I haven’t seen any Bye-Lo dolls lying around, she could still be there hidden away in some drawer, a box, or a closet.”
Sheila’s dark eyebrows disappeared under her curly bangs. “You think so?”
“It’s worth checking. At the very least we ought to find a receipt showing the doll was brought into the shop, and if it was sold again, there should be a receipt for that, too.” Dwaine returned to the piano bench, where he retrieved the notepad. He ripped off the top page, moved back to the sofa, and handed the paper to Sheila. “Here’s the estimate on the piano. If you want to give me the phone number of the place where you’re staying, I’ll call you if and when I locate the doll.”
She frowned. “I was hoping, before I return Grandma’s house key, that I might go over to your shop and see what you can find out.”
“I haven’t been all that busy today, so I guess we could head over there now and take a look.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Sheila reached into her jeans pocket and withdrew a picture. “This is me as a child, holding the Bye-Lo, in case you’re wondering what the doll looks like.”
He nodded. “Yep. About the same as the ones I’ve seen advertised in doll collectors’ magazines.”
“I’m only here on a week’s vacation, which means I won’t be in Casper long. So if we could go to your shop now, that would be great.”
It was obvious that Sheila was desperate to find her grandmother’s doll, and Dwaine didn’t have the heart to tell her it could take days or even weeks to go through everything in his store. Bill Summers hadn’t been much of an organizer, not to mention the fact that he’d become forgetful toward the end. Dwaine had already discovered this was the reason so many things seemed to be missing or were found in some obscure places. Of course, Dwaine couldn’t say much about being disorganized. Tidiness was not his best trait either.
“If you have your own car, you can follow me over to the shop. If not, I’ll be happy to give you a lift,” he offered.
“That won’t be necessary. My rental’s parked in the driveway.”
“Sounds good. Are you ready to head out then?”
She nodded and grabbed her jacket from the arm of an overstuffed chair, then reached for her purse on the end table.
“Oh, and by the way,” he said, turning back to the piano and lifting the sheet off the top, “I found this while I was doing my appraisal. It looks old, and I figured it might be a family treasure.” He handed her a black Bible with frayed edges and several pages ready to fall out.
Sheila smiled. “Thanks. This must belong to Grandma. I’ll take it to her when I return the house key. She probably didn’t realize she left it on top of the piano.”
Dwaine felt a sense of relief. At least Sheila was smiling again.
Sheila had never been inside an antique store so full of clutter, but she remembered Dwaine saying the previous owner’s memory had been fading. The poor man probably had struggled with keeping the shop going and hadn’t been able to clean or organize things. For all she knew, Dwaine might not be any better at putting the place in order. He did seem to be kind and caring though, if one could tell anything from first impressions.
Kind, caring, and cute, Sheila mused as she followed Dwaine to a long wooden counter in the center of the store. An antique cash register sat on one end, and a cordless phone was beside it. An odd contrast, to be sure.
“I’ll start by looking through the receipt box,” Dwaine said as he reached under the counter and retrieved a battered shoe box that looked like it belonged in the garbage.
Sheila stifled a groan. That’s where he keeps his receipts? I’d say this man’s in need of a good secretary as well as some new office supplies.
While Dwaine riffled through the papers, Sheila leaned against the front of the counter and reflected on her job back in Fresno. For the last two years, she’d worked as a receptionist in a chiropractor’s office. The clinic had been in total disarray when she was hired, and it had taken nearly six months to get everything organized. She’d finally succeeded, and the office was running more smoothly and efficiently than ever before. Dr. Taylor often praised Sheila for her organizational skills.
“Do you miss living in Wyoming, or are you a bona fide California girl now?” Dwaine asked, breaking into Sheila’s thoughts.
“I like my job working as a receptionist for a chiropractor,” she replied, “but I miss some things about living here.” “Such as?”
“Grandma for one. I used to love going over to her house and playing in the attic with my girl cousins. There were so many wonderful treasures there.” She wrinkled her nose. “The boy cousins preferred to play outside or in the basement where they could get dirty and look for creepy crawlers.”
Dwaine chuckled. “Anything else you miss about living in Casper?”
“The cold, snowy winters, when we went sledding and iceskating.”
“Guess you don’t get much snow in California, huh?” “Not in Fresno.”
Dwaine laid the stack of receipts he’d already gone through on the countertop. “Is Lydia Dunmore your only relative living here now?”
“My cousin Jessica is still in the area, and so is Aunt Marlene. Mom and Dad are missionaries in Brazil, my brother lives in San Diego, and the rest of my aunts, uncles, and cousins have moved to other parts of the country.”
Dwaine scratched the side of his head. “Most of my family lives in Montana, and my sister lives in Seattle, Washington. We all keep in touch through phone calls and e-mail.”
Sheila nodded and fought the urge to grab a handful of receipts and begin searching for anything that might help find her missing Bye-Lo baby. Her conversation with Dwaine was pleasant, but it wasn’t accomplishing a lot.
A few minutes later, Dwaine laid the last piece of paper on top of the stack. “There’s nothing here that would indicate a Bye-Lo doll was bought or sold last fall, and these receipts go clear back to the beginning of April that year.”
Sheila resented his implication, and she bristled. “Are you suggesting my grandmother just thought she brought the doll here and sold it to Bill Summers?”
Dwaine’s ears turned pink as he shoved the receipts back into the shoe box. “I’m not saying that at all. Since Bill was so forgetful, it’s possible he either didn’t write up a receipt or filed it someplace other than the shoe box.”
Which is a dumb place to file anything. Sheila forced a smile. “Now what do we do?”
Dwaine patted his stomach. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. How about we go to the café next door and get some grub? Then, if you have the time, we can come back here and check a few other places.”
Sheila’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food. She hadn’t taken time for lunch this afternoon, and breakfast had consisted of only a cup of coffee and a bagel with cream cheese. A real meal might be just what she needed right now.
She slung her purse over her shoulder. “Dinner sounds good to me.”
Dwaine lifted one eyebrow and tipped his head. “Around here it’s called supper.”
She grinned up at him. “Oh, right. How could I have forgotten something as important as that?”
CHAPTER 3
Casper’s Café wasn’t the least bit crowded, but this was Wednesday, and Sheila remembered that most people didn’t go out to eat in the middle of the week. At least not around these parts.
Sheila studied the menu place mat in front of her, although she didn’t know why. She and Dwaine had already placed their orders for sirloin steaks and baked potatoes. It was more than she normally ate, but for some reason Sheila felt ravenous. Maybe it was the company. She felt comfortable sitting here in a cozy booth, inside a quaint restaurant, with a man who had the most gorgeous brown eyes she’d ever seen.
Dwaine smiled from across the table. “You remind me of someone.”
“Who?”
He fingered the dimple in his chin. “I’m not sure. Shirley Temple, maybe.
”
Sheila squinted her eyes. “Shirley Temple had blond hair, and mine’s black as midnight.”
“True, but her hair was a mass of curls, and so is yours.”
She reached up to touch the uncontrollable tendrils framing her face. Her hair had always been naturally curly, and when she was a child, she’d liked not having to do much with it. Now Sheila simply endured the nasty curls, envying others with straight, sleek hair.
He traced his fingers along the edge of the table. “Do you know what an original Shirley Temple doll is worth on today’s market?”
She shook her head.
“Several hundred dollars.”
“Wow. That’s impressive.”
“Your lost Bye-Lo baby’s going for a tidy sum, too.” “Really?”
He nodded. “I saw an eighteen-inch Bye-Lo listed in a doll collectors’ magazine several weeks ago, and it cost a thousand dollars.”
Sheila’s mouth fell open. “That’s a lot of money. I had no idea the doll was so valuable.”
“Actually, the eight-inch version, like your grandmother had, is only selling for five hundred dollars.”
“Only?”
“You see that as a bad thing?”
“It is for me, since I don’t have the doll or that kind of money lying around.”
“We’re going to find it,” Dwaine said with the voice of assurance, “and it might not cost as much as you think. If the doll’s still at my shop, I can sell her back to you for whatever Bill Summers paid your grandmother, which I’m sure wasn’t nearly as much as the doll is worth.”
Sheila’s heart hammered. Why should she be forced to buy something she was told she could have? Of course, Grandma hadn’t actually said Sheila could have the doll. It had been sold several months ago, and Grandma probably figured there were lots of other things in the attic Sheila could pick from.
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