“Who says I’m healthy?” she’d grumbled. “I’m determined to feel sorry for myself, and I’m not going to be stopped.”
“Lucia’s coming to see you tomorrow morning. With Sam. And the boys,” Meg warned. “That should scare you out into the sunshine.”
“I won’t be here.”
“Good,” her friend said with some satisfaction. “Then my job here is done.”
So now she had to get dressed. She assumed all of her clothes were gone, as were all of her lovely boots. Her closet, in the middle of the back part of the upper section of the building, would have been either burned or damaged by water.
No problem.
She could replace everything. Eventually. And she still had her violin. Of all the things that mattered, she still had the Pietro, the gift from beloved parents.
Lucia had gone to Lewistown and bought her some jeans, T-shirts, makeup, toiletries and underwear. From her new shop, Cora had produced a nicely worn jean jacket, two pairs of Tony Lamas (one black, one blue and gray) and a neatly ironed, pale blue, nineteen fifties sundress. She chose to wear the sundress and the blue-gray boots but decided against the jacket once she opened the door and felt the warmth of the morning sun on her face.
She slung her purse over her shoulder, shut the door and trudged across the parking lot. She walked the two blocks down Main, to where it intersected with First and turned right. Where the Dahl and its addition stood at the ninety-degree angle.
The street was blocked off, picnic tables cutting off traffic and diverting them to South or North Second streets. She heard music, saw a crowd gathered in front of the Dahl. Aurora didn’t want to look at the Dahl. The last time she’d seen it, on that awful night, she’d felt as if parts of her own body were burning. She’d been hurting and helpless and sick to her stomach as the volunteer fire department rushed to save her buildings and her business.
She hadn’t had the courage to look at the result. When she visited Lucia’s she’d gone round the other way, avoiding Main and First streets and any glimpse of the catastrophe.
Aurora stopped, unwilling to push through the crowd of people in order to find the men she was supposed to meet at the building site.
“Aurora!” Winter’s yellow curls bounced around her face as she crossed to her. “You’re here! Yay!”
“Honey, I have a meeting—”
Winter rolled her eyes. “Oh, I know that. But first you have to come with me.” Winter took Aurora’s hand and tugged her toward the street.
Aurora dug in her heels. “Where is the music coming from?”
“The Wild Judiths are playing over there, in front of Cora’s.”
“Why?”
“The mayor’s planned something special.” She tugged again. “Come on.”
“I thought he was through with all that,” she muttered, but she went along with the child. Her neighbors smiled at her, patted her on the back, waved and gave her the thumbs-up sign as she made her way around the edge of the crowd.
“There she is!”
Aurora saw Jerry, standing high above the crowd halfway up a ladder. He held a microphone and wore a yellow hard hat.
“Good morning, Aurora! We’re going to make this right for you. Everyone here wants the Dahl back and wants you to know that we care.” He cleared his throat. “Okay, folks,” he announced. “We have our assignments, right? Everyone knows what they’re going to be doing?” There were cheers and muted applause from the crowd. Now Aurora realized that a large number of men were gathered in front of the Dahl. The construction team that had been working on the addition were off to one side, but many men she recognized from the town and the surrounding county stood on the sidewalk and in the street also. Large Dumpsters sat next to the sidewalk, and a line of pickup trucks blocked the street.
A man she’d never met before stepped up to her, a sheaf of papers in his hand. He introduced himself as the insurance adjuster, gave her a brief explanation of the amount of money his company would be giving her for the renovation and asked her to sign. Aurora signed, gratefully. The building inspector was next, explaining there was no structural damage, that once the burned areas were removed the remodeling could proceed.
“Yes?” Jerry shaded his eyes and looked over to Aurora. “We have a yes?”
The insurance man gave him a thumbs-up. The building inspector waved an okay. The crowd roared its approval. And the work began. At least sixty men began dismantling the burned sections of the Dahl, while others carried the pieces into the Dumpsters. The members of the Wild Judiths stowed their instruments and picked up hammers, crowbars and work gloves. Meanwhile, women began to arrive with bowls and casseroles and platters filled with food, which were arranged on the picnic tables and protected from various groups of excited children.
“It’s like the Amish,” Winter said, leaning against her. “Like a barn raising.”
Aurora was speechless. Sam and Jake were among those carrying new lumber from a delivery truck to an open area near the addition. Jake turned to her once and smiled, but she was too stunned to smile back. He was still here, obviously. And he was the kind of man who would help a neighbor in trouble.
After all, he’d gone to Austin to help an old friend.
Lucia sidled up to her. “Were you surprised?”
“I’m still surprised,” she confessed. “Who did this?”
“Everyone. The quilters wanted to do a fund-raiser, with a potluck dinner and an auction. The men in town wanted to help with the cleanup after the fire but had to wait until the inspector gave the all-clear. Just about everybody who came into Meg’s wanted to do something to help out somehow.”
“I can’t believe it.” She worked very, very hard to keep tears from tipping out of her eyes.
“Then Jerry thought we should combine everything and make a big party out of it.”
“That’s typical.” Aurora couldn’t help laughing a little. “No one loves a community event more than our mayor.”
Winter looked up at her. “Are you happy, Aurora?”
“Yes.” She eyed her old building, looking better by the minute. “I am so happy I could cry.”
“Me, too,” the child said. “I want to live here forever.”
Aurora sighed and put her arm around the girl’s shoulders. “I know exactly how you feel.”
* * *
JAKE DIDN’T HAVE a grand gesture for Aurora. At the end of the day he had a tired back and sore hands and a sunburned face. And a great feeling of satisfaction now that an almost miraculous transformation had taken place at the Dahl. A new roof covered the old building. Sam told him that Aurora would work with the contractor and an architect to redesign her apartment’s bedroom, bathroom and storage. For now the upstairs was enclosed, which was nothing short of a miracle. He’d never seen so many men work so hard and accomplish so much in one day.
And the addition, affectionately and not surprisingly called the “Dollie” by the construction crew from Lewistown, had been cleaned and reframed. Its brick sides had sustained no lasting damage, so framing had gone quickly once the mess was hauled away.
He’d watched her serve food and pour lemonade. He’d watched her blush and stammer when her neighbors and friends hugged her and wished her well and donated fabric and quilting supplies into big plastic tubs set up in front of the community center.
Les had won the raffle quilt, which he’d presented to Shelly. The young man had whispered something in her ear that made her smile and give him a kiss. So there was progress, he noted, on another Willing romance. He’d heard Les had been suffering from unrequited love since last October, so he wished the young man luck.
And now it was his own turn. He’d sent Winter home with Lucia, who along with Sam had gathered children and empty casserole dishes and headed back to their house at dusk. Aurora
, her silver hair streaming down her back, stood in the middle of a small group of women who were packing containers of food into boxes and loading them into SUVs. The streets had reopened and the day was over.
It was time.
* * *
“SWEETHEART.” SHE FELT his hand on her shoulder before she turned around. She would have protested that “sweetheart” business, but her quilting friends were listening and exchanging amused glances.
“We’ll get going,” Janet said. “All of your new quilting things will be stored right here in the community center until you have a place for them.”
“Thank you.” She hugged each one of the four women goodbye, which gave her a good excuse to move away from Jake’s touch. To move away from Jake.
But Jake didn’t budge. He was still there, on the sidewalk, when she turned around. He wore jeans and a dirty white T-shirt and held a pair of yellow gloves in one hand. He looked dirty and gorgeous, which was so unfair.
“Thank you,” she said. “I know you and Sam worked all day on the building. I really appreciate it.”
“I should have taken a shower and cleaned up,” he said, frowning. “But I didn’t want to miss talking to you.”
“We don’t have much to—”
“Yes,” he said, taking her hand in his. “We do. Come on.” He led her around the corner, to the empty storefront beside Cora’s vintage clothing store. Both stores faced the Dahl, whose dark windows looked lonely.
“Jake—”
“Do you know what this is?” He gestured to the empty store.
“No.” It looked as empty as it had as long as she’d lived here. Meg said it used to be a jewelry store.
“That is going to be one of the finest guitar stores in the West.”
She stared at him. “You’re going to sell guitars?”
“I hope so.”
“This is a very small town,” she reminded him. “I’m not sure how many—”
“Wait,” he said nervously. “This isn’t about guitars. This is about us.”
“I—”
“Wait,” he repeated, interrupting her protest. “Hear me out. Please.” Aurora shut her mouth and waited, though she wanted to pull her hand from his and run down the street to the safety of the small cabin. She didn’t want to believe he intended to stay. She didn’t want to believe, period.
Jake took a deep breath. “When I was in Austin I heard of a guitar-making business that was for sale. I’d heard of them. They were a fine company, a small company. And just like that, things fell into place.” He smiled wryly. “Remember you told me that when you came here you saw the Dahl for sale and you bought it on impulse?”
She nodded.
“Well, that’s what happened in Austin. I bought it. I don’t know anything about making guitars, but I know what a good one should sound like. I hired Hip, because he has the carving and the wood skills. And I’m bringing three of the former employees here, to Willing, to work in the shop. I’ve leased a building on the other side of the co-op and I’ve bought this store. We’ll be shipping and selling guitars all over the country, if things go right.”
Aurora couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“So,” he said. “I’m staying. I can write songs here. I’m not going on the road, I’m not going to change my mind and go back to Nashville and I’m not going to suddenly run off with some young groupie, which, by the way, was pretty insulting.”
“You were gone for two weeks. And you didn’t say very much on the phone.”
“I didn’t want to spoil the whole guitar-building-business surprise.”
“That was a bad move.”
“Yeah.” He winced. “I admit, I’m not used to answering to anyone. I’ll do better in the future. I will follow you around and tell you every single thing that is on my mind from morning until night.” He tugged her closer to him. “I know we’re on a public street and anyone could drive by or walk over here any minute now, but could you please tell me you will at least think about marrying me?”
“Marrying you? Is that a proposal?”
“Is that so hard to imagine? Come on, sweetheart. I could sing you a song, serenade you outside the cabin tonight. I’m sure the folks eating at the café would be thrilled.”
“I would be mortified.” Though she wondered what song he would choose.
“Then say yes now,” he urged. “I love you. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you in those yellow boots, when you thought I was going to rob you.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Aurora said, but she wanted to laugh. She wanted to dance. She wanted to lean into him and melt into the warmth of his body. “I thought you were a kidnapper.”
He kissed her, a long, slow, sweet kiss that left her gasping for air. “I’d prefer to be a husband,” he said, whispering the words against her cheek.
She hesitated, scared to agree, and Jake moved back. She saw the hurt in his eyes and realized she didn’t want to live without this man in her life. She didn’t want to look out at the world from behind the safety of her bar or the windows of her apartment. She wanted to be part of Jake’s family, part of Lucia’s family. She wanted to be Winter’s mother and Jake’s wife. And the risk was worth it. He was worth it.
She wanted to stand onstage and bring the house down, with her man beside her.
“What’s it gonna be, Aurora?”
“Us,” she said, moving back into the circle of his arms. “It’s going to be us.”
EPILOGUE
JERRY WAS IN the middle of planning the Fourth of July parade when his phone beeped. Only four weeks away, he had a lot to do. The holiday was a reunion weekend for the school and for many local families; he expected an extra thousand people for the parade, especially with the expansion of the tourist industry.
The text was from Tracy.
Tracy.
His finger hesitated over the button. Should he read it? Did she want him back? Had he left something at her place? Was she lonely? Did she miss him? Had her new boyfriend dumped her on the side of the road and did she need a ride?
Good news, he read. Show renewed. We’ll be in touch. Filming in August. No snow. Get more men.
Well, who did she think she was? Did she think it would be easy to find more bachelors? Did she think he’d want to put the town through another round of filming? Did she think they would be interested in their little television show?
There was only one way to find out. He’d have to check with Meg, but she was out at the ranch suffering with all-day morning sickness. He’d have to go to the Dahl and ask Aurora. He looked at his watch. Karaoke wouldn’t start for another hour and a half, but she and Jake would be playing at the happy hour tonight.
There had never been a happy hour at the Dahl until Jake Hove arrived in Aurora Jones’ life. If that particular woman could end up happy, then there was hope for them all. Which made Willing the romantic town he’d envisioned from the very beginning.
Jerry, the parade forgotten, hurried out the door. Man, it was good to be mayor.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781460326329
THE HUSBAND
SHOW
Copyright © 2014 by Kristine Rolofson
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The Husband Show Page 23