Corbin's Bend Homecoming

by Ruth Staunton

  “Oh, okay, that’s good,” he replied, sounding slightly confused. “What can I do for you then?”

  Suddenly, Norah couldn’t get the words out. What if he got the wrong idea? What if he hadn’t enjoyed being with her as much as she had enjoyed being with him? What if he turned her down?

  “Are you there?” Caine was saying in her ear. “Did I lose you? Are you okay?”

  Norah took a deep breath and forced the words out. “I’m fine,” she said a little stiffly. “I must’ve lost you there for a minute.” She felt a twinge of guilt for the lie but reasoned that what Caine didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  “So how can I help you?” Caine asked.

  “I think I can help you,” Norah told him. “I want to do something about your serious lack of movie education.”

  Caine chuckled. “And just what do you propose to do about that?” he asked, teasing.

  “I have The Princess Bride on DVD,” she told him. “We can start there.”

  “And when would you like to start this project?”

  “Given the fact that we have quite a bit of material to cover, I think it’s best that we start as soon as possible.” Norah could feel herself smiling. This little bit of banter was the most fun she’d had all day. “Would tonight work?”

  On the other end of the line, Caine suddenly got very quiet. Norah bit her lip. Oh God, she had read him wrong. He wasn’t interested. She was such an idiot. “It’s okay,” she said quietly, hoping desperately she didn’t sound as embarrassed as she felt. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

  “No, it’s not that,” Caine assured her quickly. “I want to. It’s just a long drive for me. It would be better if we could do it a day when I’m already working in Corbin’s Bend.”

  If such a thing were possible, Norah felt like even more of an idiot. “We can do that. Any day is fine, whatever works for you.” Of course he didn’t want to make the round-trip from Denver when he had been working all day. He was around so much that she had momentarily forgotten that he didn’t live around here.

  “I probably won’t be there tomorrow,” Caine continued. “I’m working on the shelves for the side walls and need to finish up staining them, but I’ll be there the day after for sure. These shelves will need time to dry, and the painters are supposed to be done by then so I can check over their work. Would that work out for you?”

  “Sure, that’ll be great,” Norah told him.

  “Good,” Caine said. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  “So will I,” Norah said.

  Caine hadn’t been kidding when he said he would look forward to getting together with Norah. He had really enjoyed their time together over the weekend and found himself thinking of her often, even when he was alone in his workshop. He supposed it was natural to be thinking of Norah while working on pieces for her. It wasn’t unusual for him to speculate on what clients would think of particular pieces. Those weren’t necessarily the kind of thoughts he was having about Norah though. While he did hope she would like the furniture he was working on, more often than not, his thoughts had very little to do with work and everything to do with her. Some little quirky thing she had done. The wind blowing through her hair as they walked from stall to stall at the flea market. Her kneeling on the floor in the bookstore on the first day they had ever met, playing with Maverick as if they were old friends. Each frozen moment of memory flitted through his mind over and over like songs stuck on repeat, and try as he might, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  She was on his mind constantly over the next couple days, always nagging at the back of what he was doing whether he was building one of her bookshelves or washing up the dishes. A dozen times he cursed himself for not agreeing to see her sooner. At least as many if not more times, he cursed himself for agreeing to meet up with her at all. He couldn’t deny that he liked her nor that he was incredibly attracted to her. There was something magical and elusive about the contrast of her willowy frame and extremely fair skin with her rich dark hair. She reminded him of an ancient wood nymph or something of the sort. It was the kind of silly, whimsical fantasy that he probably should have immediately dismissed as nonsense but that somehow made every cell in his body stand up and pay attention. At the same time, he also couldn't ever let himself forget that she was one of them, and however much he might wish he could get to know her on a more personal level, the reality was that a relationship between them would never work. If they were together, she would expect him to want the same sort of things. Why anyone would ever want that completely baffled him, but he knew in Corbin’s Bend that was how relationships were expected to work. Whatever else she was, Norah was also from Corbin’s Bend and doubtless would expect her relationship to work that way as well. That was something Caine could never do. They could do business together. They could even be friends, in the same way that he was friends with Jerry and Benjamin, but he could never let it go any further, and he would do well never to forget that.

  Despite his determination to keep the differences between them firmly in mind, Caine still felt himself getting more and more anxious to see Norah as the appointed day came closer. He was up bright and early that morning, ready to get to Corbin’s Bend. Part of that anticipation had to do with being able to see the progress on Norah’s store. It was really coming together now. They were almost down to the things he could do himself. The floor was done, and the painters should be done within the next day or so. They were supposed to have the walls done yesterday so that he could put in the finish pieces, decorative accents, crown molding, and the like. He always liked seeing the progress on a particular project, and that no doubt played into some of his excitement, but he had to admit most of it came down to just being able to see Norah again. Maverick was just as excited as he was. The dog had jumped eagerly into his customary position in the back of the truck. When Caine had told him where they were going, he would swear the dog’s excitement increased at least tenfold, sending him racing around in frantic, excited loops around the bed of the truck. Caine threw back his head and laughed at the hilarity of it all, but at same time he had to admit he couldn’t blame Maverick. Truth be told, he felt much the same way himself.

  Much to his surprise, despite the fact that he had come in earlier than usual, Norah was already downstairs working in her back office and storage room when he came in through the back door. “Hi!” she said enthusiastically, looking up from her computer when he walked in. She was out of her chair and on her feet by the time the door shut behind him, eyes sparkling and a light flush spreading across her cheeks in a way that reminded him uncannily of an excited child. Did she look forward to seeing him as much as he did her? “Good morning,” Norah went on, heedless of the fact that he had not actually answered. “Was the drive okay?” Maverick went immediately over to her, bounding with the excitement of greeting an old friend. Norah crouched to his level, rubbing and petting enthusiastically.

  “Morning,” Caine replied, trying not to grin like an idiot. “The drive was fine. I decided to get an early start. Looks like you did too. What are you working on?”

  “I’m looking at inventory and point-of-sale software,” Norah explained. “Technically, this year I could really get by with basic accounting software and just keeping up with things by hand on paper. That would be cheaper, but having bookstore specific software would be so much easier, especially since I’m trying to do both a new and used book hybrid model. There’s software out there that could both help me keep up with other things besides just sales, but it’s really not necessary. I’ve seen people keep customer accounts on index cards. I’m just trying to decide whether it’s worth the investment.”

  Caine nodded. That made a lot of sense. He wasn’t much on all the new gadgets himself, despite the fact that his tax accountant kept trying to talk him into computerizing his business files. He still kept an old-fashioned ledger on paper, kept paper customer files and collected his receipts in the shoebox. It drove his acco
untant crazy, but it worked for him. “I’m not much into computers,” he admitted, “but it seems like it might help a lot with keeping up with the paperwork. If you know how to use that kind of stuff, it might be worth it. I just don’t have the patience to try to learn it.”

  “I’ve worked with similar systems before,” Norah said. “Learning it is not the problem. Whether I can afford the initial cost and whether that cost is worth it is the problem.”

  “If you can swing it, it would probably be worth it for you,” Caine replied. “I’m not juggling nearly as many accounts as you are probably going to be, and my accountant still keeps bugging me to set up some kind of system.” Caine shot her a wry grin. “For some reason, he doesn’t think bringing in my receipts in a shoebox is sufficient.”

  Norah laughed. “I can’t imagine why. You’re probably right about the computer system. Quincy said the same thing. I should just bite the bullet and do it. Of course, that just means I have another decision-making crisis about deciding which system to buy.” The corners of her mouth quirked up in a small, self-deprecating smile. She reached absently over to her desk and picked up a coffee cup. She took a swallow and then grimaced. “Oh God, that’s awful.” Caine raised an eyebrow in question. “It’s gone cold,” she said by way of explanation. “I’m going upstairs and make fresh. You want any?”

  Caine shook his head. “No thanks, I’d better get busy.” Whistling to Maverick, who was rolling on his back with all four feet in the air in the universal dog language that translated to begging for a belly rub, he headed for the door to the main store area. Mav flipped over and trotted to his side but kept casting longing glances in Norah’s direction.

  The morning passed agonizingly slowly. Caine couldn’t remember the last time he’d had as much trouble concentrating on his work. That usually wasn’t any kind of problem. If anything, it was the opposite. Sometimes, when he was designing and building furniture, he could get lost in it to the exclusion of anything else. He’d been known to work until the wee hours of the morning without ever realizing how late it had gotten.

  Today, however, that flow was completely elluding him. Minutes seemed to drag on like hours. He’d hoped to get a brief reprieve when lunch time came since he and Norah had taken to having lunch together more often than not. She never came out to meet him though. He checked in her office, thinking perhaps she had just gotten busy, but she wasn’t there. She must have gone out to one of the restaurants to eat with friends. It wasn’t anything unusual. She did that sometimes. So did he for that matter. He still kept standing lunch dates with Jerry. So why did the fact that she had done it today bother him so? He’d wanted her to have lunch with him, that’s why. Not that he had told her that. He’d missed her, and he’d hoped she felt the same way and would want to spend time with him.

  Of course she wants to spend time with you, idiot. That’s why she invited you over to watch movies. Maybe that’s why she is going out with her friends now so that she can spend time with you tonight. The thought brought him up short and made an uncomfortable amount of sense. Besides, even if that weren’t the case, it was stupid for him to be brooding. He had no call over what she did or where she went. She could do as she pleased.

  Still, he was relieved when he heard her come back into the building. A tension left him that he hadn’t realized had been there in the first place. She hadn’t stood him up. She wasn’t going to stand him up. Where did that come from? Of course she wasn’t going to stand him up. She had invited him, and since when had Norah ever done anything like that anyway. When had he become so paranoid?

  Caine honestly had no idea. It wasn’t like him, and he needed to shake it off. It was utterly ridiculous to be brooding like this over someone who was only a friend and could never be anything more. Yes, he’d missed her. Yes, he enjoyed spending time with her. Yes, he was looking forward to spending the evening watching movies with her tonight, even if it meant he’d probably be making a late-night drive back to Denver, but he didn’t need to let any of that get them twisted up like this. He needed to calm down, enjoy the evening, and get the rest of this paranoid crap out of his head.

  He tried his best to concentrate on that and his work for the rest of the afternoon, marking off where each of the bookshelves that were nearing completion would go, but he was still incredibly relieved when Norah finally came out into the main bookstore area and said, “I’m about ready to pack it in and head upstairs, are you?”

  “Just let me pack up my tools and take Mav out and I’ll be ready,” Caine told her. “Should I leave him down here or bring him up when we are done?”

  “Go ahead and bring him up,” Norah replied. “Maeve will just have to get used to him.”

  After a quick trip outside, Caine followed her up the stairs, Maverick on his heels. That sounded promising. If she wanted their animals to get used to one another, then she was probably planning on this being more than a one-time thing. Inside the apartment, Norah was already fiddling with the stove. Caine halted Maverick in the doorway. Maeve came over to sniff them cautiously. Maverick whined but didn’t make a move toward her. Maeve hissed, all the hair standing up on her back, and bolted away, scrambling to the top of a tall bookcase. Satisfied that the cat was safely out of danger, Caine released Maverick. Maverick immediately went over to greet Norah and demand to be petted. Norah obligingly scratched his ears before turning away to wash her hands and pull a baking dish out of the refrigerator. The dog watched her for a moment and then trod over to the base of the bookcase where the cat had taken up residence, peering up at the cat and whining. When that didn’t work, he tried bouncing back and forth and wagging his tail invitingly. That only served to make Maeve hiss and yowl. Maverick dropped down on his backside and stared at her, head twisting questioningly from side to side.

  Caine laughed. “You just can’t figure out why she won’t play with you, can you buddy?”

  Maverick whined again, looking back over his shoulder at Caine.

  “I know, buddy,” Caine told him, “but I’m afraid it’s a lost cause. Maeve doesn’t speak your language.”

  “Sorry, Mav,” Norah said. “Maeve just isn’t as friendly as you are.” She had peeled back the layer of aluminum foil from over top of the baking dish, revealing a variety of vegetables layered with some sort of meat. “I came up and threw together a chicken vegetable casserole. I hope that’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t think to ask earlier. If it’s not okay, I’m sure we can pick up something from one of the restaurants.”

  “It’s fine,” Caine assured her. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m easy to feed. I’m sure it will be great.” Now Caine really felt like an idiot. After all the worrying he had done when she did not come and eat lunch with him, she had been putting together their dinner the entire time.

  She slid the baking dish into the oven. “It needs to cook for about half an hour.”

  “So tell me about this movie you want me to see,” Caine said.

  “It’s a comedy adventure about Buttercup, the beautiful princess, Wesley, the farm boy she is in love with, and Prince Humperdinck, the evil prince who is supposedly in love with her.”

  “So in other words, it’s a chick flick,” Caine concluded.

  “Not really,” Norah argued. “I mean, the basic plot is a romance, but there’s a lot of really campy comedy too. It was made in the eighties so it’s a little dated now, but it’s still funny. I still can’t believe you’ve never seen it. I watched it who knows how many times with my girlfriends growing up.”

  “Maybe that’s because it’s a chick flick,” Caine suggested.

  Norah rolled her eyes. “It’s not totally a chick flick. I knew several boys who liked it too for the comedy and the pirate adventure stuff.”

  “If you say so,” Caine said skeptically.

  “You’ll like it. You’ll see.” Norah told him confidently. “What did you like growing up?”

  “Like I said, I didn’t watch many movies,” he replied. He
hadn’t watched a lot of television either really. Ruben had not approved of most shows. “I guess I mostly watched old Westerns if I watched anything at all.” Those Ruben had enjoyed himself and therefore approved. “I do remember seeing Return of the Jedi though.” He had snuck out with his friend Willie after Ruben had passed out one night. It was the first movie he ever remembered seeing at the theater. It had gotten him into trouble when Ruben found out about it later, but he had never regretted it.

  “The Star Wars movies are classics too,” Norah agreed. “Have you seen the others?”

  “Yeah,” Caine said, “at least the three original ones.” He had seen those back when he was in the Air Force. “I haven’t seen any of the newer ones they’ve added recently though.”

  “The original ones are the best anyway,” Norah said, “but we can get those sometime and watch them if you want. You really should see them, if nothing else but for the sake of comparison.”

  Caine chuckled. “I should huh? I guess I will leave that in your capable hands then.” He liked that idea. The more movies she found for them to watch, the more time he could spend with her. Even knowing they could only be friends, he enjoyed spending time with her and would take what he could get.

  “Great!” The timer on the oven dinged, and Norah crossed the kitchen to silence it. “We can either watch them one at a time or get them all at once and have a marathon.” She bent over to take the casserole out of the oven, and Cain’s body came immediately to attention.

  He swallowed hard and tried desperately to force his brain to think of something—anything—else. Measurements. Formulas. Areas. Anything. Deliberately moving his eyes upward, he scanned the cabinets, analyzing the wood and style choices until he got himself back under control. “I think one at a time is probably best,” he replied, when he was fairly confident he could speak normally again. “It’s a long way back to Denver.”