by Nancy Naigle
To the mechanic’s credit, he was right; there was a significant amount of traffic once the barricades were pulled back. Of course, now she wasn’t in as big of a hurry.
First things first: she checked the text to her aunt and cousin. Aunt Cathy had responded with just a simple FINE, which was never fine at all, but then maybe that was just one more reason to be happy she wasn’t going home. Home. Just thinking about it was enough to make the bear claw do a somersault inside her gut. Winnie had sent back a selfie of her in her gown. She really did look beautiful.
Savannah tucked the phone into her purse. “Excuse me, ma’am,” she said to a woman walking down the street, holding the hand of a small boy. “Is there a hotel in town?”
“Well, there was, but it closed down a few months ago. But the Markham B and B is right up the block there.” The woman pointed in the opposite direction of the gas station. “It’s much nicer, anyway.”
“Thank you.” Staying at a bed-and-breakfast wouldn’t be so bad. Although if she got right down to work, she could probably get her research done and knock out the article in a few hours. She could do that from the diner. Then she could just go home and relax. Whoever said a vacation had to be away from home?
But since she was here, it wouldn’t hurt to check out the B and B. It didn’t take but a few minutes’ walk before she spotted the hand-painted wooden sign swinging from chains in front of a huge Victorian.
Savannah pushed the old wrought-iron gate open. It creaked and closed behind her with a loud clang, but no one came outside. As she walked up the sidewalk to the front porch, she noticed an older gentleman in a rocking chair.
“Excuse me, sir?”
He flew to an upright position. “Right here.” Then he settled his gaze on her. “Hello. Can I help you?”
“I was hoping to rent a room.”
“You could, but my wife isn’t here right now. I’m Mr. Markham.”
“Nice to meet you. Is there a room available?”
“I think so. Fifty dollars a night. But it’s two hundred dollars a week, so you may as well stay the whole week, if you ask me. That includes your breakfast.” He rocked forward. “And the bed, of course.”
“Internet connection?”
He rolled his eyes, sending his bushy eyebrows on what looked like a caterpillar race across his forehead. “No. Although my daughter says you can piggyback on the wireless signal over at the library from here, if you know what any of that means.”
“Good to know.”
“Only TV is down here in the living room, but my wife probably has some suggestions for you. She knows everything around here. Everyone is up at the park for the big concert. Why aren’t you over there, come to think of it?”
“I’m not from around here. What concert?”
“Cody Tuggle and some other loud guitar-playing guy. Dustin something. Anyway, big celebration here in town today because of the Derby. Lady that owns the horse is moving to Adams Grove.”
“I saw the horse. He’s a beauty.” The old man didn’t flinch, not a blink, not a wiggle. Could he even hear her? “In the parade,” she added a little louder.
“Yep. That’s the one.”
“Kind of a celebrity for y’all, huh?”
“I guess. Hell, country stars, horses. I don’t know what else is coming to our town, but things are changin’.”
“Can I walk there from here?”
“Where?”
“The concert.”
“Well, you could, but you’d be tuckered out and probably miss the whole darn thing if you tried to walk all that way.”
“Hmm. Okay, well I guess I’ll go back down to the garage and pick up my car, then.”
“Your car down at Bobby’s?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Just keep heading north and you’ll see all the signs. Probably hear the racket. No one plays good music anymore. Not since Sinatra. Even Tony Bennett has abandoned the good ranks, doing duets with those pop stars. What the hell is that all about?”
She stifled a laugh at the ol’ curmudgeon. “Probably just trying to stay relevant in changing times.”
“Change. Someone ought to ban that word from the dictionary. Nothing good can come of change.”
She sure hoped he was wrong, because she was ready for a change. A big one.
Evelyn: IDEA! Call me now.
The day Evelyn became text savvy had been a bad day for Savannah.
The woman was relentless with the number of text messages she sent out. It hadn’t taken Savannah long to learn that Evelyn considered everything an emergency. When she’d first started working for her, Savannah would drop everything and practically fling herself on the phone to respond to Evelyn’s call-me-now requests. Not anymore. Now she’d known her long enough to know that she could respond when it was convenient . . . no matter how urgent it sounded. If it was really an emergency, Evelyn would put a #911 on the text.
Savannah pressed the button on her phone to speed-dial Evelyn. “What’s up?”
“I just had the best idea.”
“Uh-oh. Your ideas always mean more work for me.”
“It’s only because you’re the best, dear. Take it as the compliment it’s meant to be.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I need that filler piece, but we need more than just one little story.”
“The one I didn’t agree to yet, you mean?”
“Oh, you’ll do it. Quit being hard to get along with. You write that story about your seven-over speeding ticket by that amazingly hot piece of ass. It’ll be funny. People love to hate cops. You know I’m right. Then, follow up with maybe a series that I can run once a week about small-town mishaps.”
“Look, I’m so over the Advice from Van thing that I want to poke my eyes out rather than read another e-mail to that account. You promised you’d get me off of that assignment.”
“Maybe this will be your chance, and you just might score a nice date with that cute man behind the badge if you try hard enough in that little town. Where are you again?”
“Adams Grove. And you know I don’t want a date.”
“Oh, live a little, girl. You don’t have to marry the guy. Just have a little fun. You can’t just work all the time.”
“Why not? You do.”
“And I’m old enough to be your mother’s older sister. Much older. Besides, I already had the love of my life. I outlived him, but there won’t be another like him. This is a choice I’ve made. You don’t even have a social life.”
“I have a social life.” Savannah didn’t like having this conversation with Evelyn. It wasn’t the first time they’d had it.
“Uh-huh. Going out for drinks once in a while and playing cards with the guys once a month is not a social life.”
Savannah pushed up her sleeves, biting back any argument. Problem was, Evelyn was half-right, but she really liked it the way it was.
Evelyn’s voice held that don’t-be-a-fool tone. “You’re too young to not find true love.”
“I’m making a choice too, and I’m happy with it. I’d be happier if you’d get me off the Van column, though.”
“Anyway . . . here’s what I’ve got for you.”
Savannah could hear the papers shuffling on Evelyn’s desk. She was on speaker—as usual.
“While you were watching the parade, I made contact with a very nice man. His name is . . . here it is. Connor Buckham. He’s the guy at the phone number on that little sign you texted me. I just paid for you to live and work there for the week. Any other expenses can go on the corporate card.”
“Evelyn, I don—”
“I don’t want to hear it. This is a well-deserved semi-vacation on my dime. You get me that story. And a few more too. There’s bound to be some fun stuff to write about there. We need something fresh in the news
right now. You can do this. Get your head together, and when you get back, I’ll give you that Senior Associate promotion we’ve been talking about and reassign the Van page to someone else permanently.”
“Are you serious?”
“I already contacted Jones to fill in for you. He’s thrilled.”
“Jones?” Was she kidding? Savannah felt doubt creep in. She’d wanted off the Van column for months, but it was too big of an income stream for GetItNowNews. Evelyn had refused to let her ditch it, instead dangling one carrot after another to keep her going. But this time Evelyn had someone covering for her. She’d never done that before. Maybe the timing was finally in her favor. She couldn’t imagine Jones being the voice of Van, and it took about everything in her to not say so . . . but after all, this might be her only chance off that darn assignment. “Do you promise?”
“I promise. This little series will have folks on a high from all the feel-good crap. They’ll gobble it up.”
“Series?”
“Give me at least three stories. That way they’ll be so distracted in your fun small town stories they won’t even realize there’s a new Advice from Van voice.”
“That makes me sound extra special.”
“Can’t have it both ways, my dear. Do you want out or not?”
“I want out.”
“See, I told you everything happens for a reason.”
Savannah’s mood brightened as she got closer to the bank building. One innocent text of a picture of the tiny sign in the window had just forced her life into a new direction. She paused in front of the huge window.
Be careful what you wish for rang from her past. But this was what she wanted. A new chance to show her writing chops in real news articles. Okay, so it wasn’t real news, more like fluff, but it was a step in the right direction. And she’d get her own name on the work. That’s what she wanted.
She also couldn’t deny she could use the break. It had been way too long since she’d taken time for herself. Not that this was totally for herself. She’d be writing those stories for Evelyn, but a little downtime in a small town with no drama sounded pretty good right now.
Suddenly, the sign was plucked from the window.
Had it all been a marvelous daydream?
But then a redheaded man walked outside. “Were you interested in the space?”
“Me?” She swallowed back the urge to say Yes! Yes! Yes! “Hi. Do you work here?”
“Yes.” He extended his hand. “I’m Connor Buckham. I own the building. There are two offices and apartments on the top floor. Sorry, I just rented the vacant one.”
“I know. I mean, Evelyn Biggens rented it for me.” She pushed her hand out in his direction. “I’m Savannah Dey.”
“Nice to meet you. Welcome to Adams Grove.”
“Thanks. You know, I’d give anything to get a tour of the old bank. Please tell me the original vault is still in place. Those things are so cool.”
“It is, and I’d be happy to take you on the ten-cent tour.” He pulled the door open and motioned her inside. “Come on in. I’ll show you the apartment too.”
“Just four hundred and fifty dollars a month? What’s the catch?”
Connor laughed. His blue eyes danced as he gave her a wink. “No catch. It’s a small town and there’s not a whole lot of demand for rentals. Where you from?”
“DC.”
“Not too far. I used to live up in Chicago.”
“And you moved here? On purpose?” Don’t offend him before you even get to know him. Doggone that mouth. She needed a piece of tape!
He laughed. “I grew up here.”
“And after living in Chicago, you still wanted to come back?” She knew what it was like to be a kid wanting to get out of a small town, but she’d never once looked back.
“Actually, my mom got sick and I came back to take care of her, but I knew I was ready to come home. The city just wasn’t for me. Even under the stress of Mom being sick, I was happier here in Adams Grove than I’d been up there.” He eyed her carefully. “What do you do?”
“You mean for work?”
“Yeah. Evelyn is your boss. What do you do?”
And just how was she supposed to answer that question without lying to the nice man? “I’m a writer.”
“Well, then this just might be my lucky day. One of my clients owns the local newspaper. As luck would have it, the woman that covers the police blotter down at the paper, her grandniece, Anna, just went into labor. Early. Bee had to drop everything to get there. She’s a dear friend of the family. They could sure use your help. Won’t pay much. Paper goes out twice a week these days, so it won’t take too long either. It would be a huge help if you could cover it while you’re here.”
Now what on God’s green earth would make him think any old writer could do a police blotter? For all he knew she could write advertising copy, or personal ads. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. You know that my boss is the one paying for my stay. I’d have to clear it with my editor. Besides, I’ll only be here for a week—”
“Any help you could give would be appreciated. It’ll ease the burden that she has to get right back home. At her age, she’s too old to be missing out on important family events. Consider it a good deed. They’re really good people. Jack and his sister have kept that paper going on a shoestring just to stay in business. They’re a cornerstone of this community.”
How could she say no to that?
He must’ve sensed her hesitation because he kept rambling on, selling her, as it were. “It’s interesting. The police blotter stuff. You’ll see all the cases come through . . .”
Well, now that he put it that way, it could potentially work to her benefit. The police blotter? Seriously? It would help with the stories that Evelyn wanted her to write. It would be like getting paid to do research. And it was only for a week. She knew Evelyn wouldn’t care. It wasn’t like this little paper was any competition for GINN.
She leveled a stare into Connor’s pleading blue eyes. All she really wanted was to chill out. She needed the break, and she needed to figure out what the heck she was going to do if Evelyn didn’t make good on her promise to take her off the Advice from Van column.
“And it won’t take long,” he said.
“Fine. I’ll do it. How much time could it take? Besides, how could I say no without sounding like an awful and uncaring person?”
“My thoughts exactly,” Connor said.
“Like I said, I’ll have to clear it with my editor, but I don’t think it will be a problem.”
“Excellent. I’ll let them know you’ll stop by and chat with him first thing Monday morning. That work for you?” His eyes twinkled with satisfaction.
He was probably a pretty good lawyer, because she’d just agreed to do something she’d had no intention of doing just moments ago. How had that happened? “Fine. Who do I talk to?”
“Jack over at the County Gazette. Thanks for doing this. You really have no idea how big of a help it is.”
“Good timing, I guess.” And she really did kind of look forward to seeing how the small-town paper worked. It would be interesting to compare it to the huge conglomerate of GetItNowNews.
Connor moved toward the door. “Let me show you around, and then I’ll show you the apartment. I’ve got the key right here.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Follow me.” He led her through the old bank building’s main floor. The wooden teller stations still spanned the front room, and the vault door was like a piece of artwork with the brass shined to a luster as lovely as gold. “What do you think?”
She ran her fingers along the fine wood railing. “This place is great.”
“Yeah. I fell in love with this building when I was a kid. It was empty back then. A safety hazard, really, but I was always drawn to it.
I’d imagine bank robbers racing down the street and good guys capturing them, tying them up, and then locking them in the vault until the sheriff came and carted them off to jail.”
“You have a good imagination.”
“I guess locking up bad guys in the vault with the money wasn’t that brilliant of a plan, but it worked in my head at the time. It was a part of my childhood, and when I moved back and found out that the town had put this old building up for sale, I couldn’t believe I was going to be able to actually own it.” She followed him up the stairs.
He pushed a key into the lock and swung open the door. “I used to live in this apartment. That’s why it’s furnished.”
“Nice.” It definitely lacked a feminine touch, with the oversized furniture in three colors of leather and pictures hung way too high for any woman to have hung them, but overall it was comfortable and clean. The light coming through the long floor-to-ceiling windows was almost magical. The original glass panes made it seem to swim across the pine flooring.
“Over here there’s an office, and . . . well, you can see the rest.”
“I can.”
Connor punched at his iPhone and then raised a finger as he spoke into the phone. “Hey, Jack, yeah, you still need someone to run down the police blotter stuff for the paper?” He nodded and gave her a wink. “Yeah, I’ve got someone that can help you out temporarily.”
An hour later she had the key to her new apartment, had landed a job doing the police blotter, and had accepted an invitation to join Connor and his wife, Carolanne, the next day for some kind of Sunday cookout at the artisan center just outside of town.
By the time Savannah got back down to Adams Grove Garage, Bobby had already locked up and headed out. She drove back to her temporary home and parked around back where Connor had told her. The back entrance looked bright and cheery, with planters of bright orange and yellow marigolds, just like the ones in the window boxes on the front. The flower boxes flanked a shiny burgundy door.
With her laptop and the dry cleaner bag with her party dress in it over her shoulder, she rolled her suitcase over the threshold toward the stairwell. The narrow staircase to the second floor was pretty steep, so rather than risk a tumble, she dragged the suitcase, clunking it on each stair tread, one at a time, as she made her way up.