“Thanks, Velma.” Gracie finished the last chocolate. “Oh, I have to get my pizza and head back to work.”
“Speaking of…” Velma chuckled and walked off.
“Speaking of what?” Gracie called after her.
“You expect me to connect the dots for you.” Velma boxed up the pizza and brought it back, sliding it onto the counter.
“Connect dots?” Gracie knew exactly what Velma meant but she wasn’t going to bite.
“Ten dollars for the pizza, Gracie. And you know exactly what I meant.”
Gracie knew, but she couldn’t, wouldn’t admit to the crush she had on her boss. It was too soon. She paid for the pizza and hurried from the store. What would Patrick think if he heard people talking about them?
She ran across the street and used the back door of The Fixer-Upper.
Patrick was in the stockroom going through one of the drawers full of nails. He turned as she walked in, smiling and then going back to his search.
“Looking for something?” She set the pizza on a worktable.
“I have an order for a couple of rocking chairs and I’m short on some parts.”
“I thought we ordered those.” She joined him, searching through drawers he hadn’t searched.
“We did. They haven’t shipped. There should be some here. Did you get everything done you needed to?”
“I think so. The block party is going to be a great success. And then in October we have the Fall Carnival.”
“I think the more we do, the more we get people used to shopping locally, the better.” He pulled out a couple of wood screws. “This is what I needed.”
“Oh, good. Now you can eat lunch.”
He glanced in the direction of the pizza. “Sounds good.”
“Pepperoni and mushroom.”
“My favorite.” He slid the drawer back in. “Are you going to your church on Sunday? It’s the Plainview Church, out past your dad’s, right?”
“I think so. I don’t want to abandon them now when so many people have left. I’ve only been going in town because the Morgans attend the Community Church.” She didn’t even like to think about what was happening, not just to her life, but to her town, her friends and now her church. “Our pastor thinks he might have to leave the area.”
“That’s rough.”
“He’s been with us for ten years.”
“Maybe things will work out.”
“We can only pray.” The front door chimed to let them know they had a customer. Gracie pointed to the pizza. “I’ll get that. You eat.”
“What about your lunch?”
“I had a cupcake at the bakery and chocolates at The Everything. Other than a sugar rush, I’m good.”
He laughed and she smiled back at him as she walked through the door and into the front of the store.
Allison True was standing in front of a display of shelves.
“Hi, Allison. How can I help you?” Gracie joined the woman who had grown up in Bygones but had left for several years. Now she owned the Happy Endings Bookstore.
Allison looked around the store. “I need some extra shelves for books. I’m on a limited budget, so I thought I could make some.”
“We’re going to do a workshop on bookcases. I have ready-to-assemble kits and then you stain or paint them the color you want. Do you want me to sign you up?”
“That would be great, Gracie.” Allison looked around again. “You know, Helen over at the grocery store is really not behind the block party. I was over there a little while ago and she was complaining about the new shops.”
“Oh, let her complain. She’ll get over it when she sees that the new shops keep people in town and that will keep the grocery store going.”
“I wish everyone could see it that way. I grew up in this town and I’m still getting it from a few people that I know.”
“I’m sorry. I know it has to be tough. Especially if you came home thinking you’d get a nice, warm welcome from people you used to know.” Gracie led Allison to the section of shelving and bookcases to show her the one they would be doing as a project. “They’ll come around. It just takes time.”
“It hasn’t been easy, has it, Gracie? I mean, the situation with Trent, the wedding. Helen said that wedding was just another example of how this town has gotten carried away.”
“I’m going to let Helen and everyone else in this town talk until they talk it out of their system. They really don’t need explanations from me.” She started to hum, an old habit for dealing with anger. She cleared her throat to cover up the sound.
Allison touched her arm. They’d never been particularly close, but things changed. Gracie thought that maybe they could be friends. She’d always liked Allison, but she’d left years ago. Even in school they’d been a grade apart and ran with a different crowd. But now, well, now was a different time. They were in different places.
“That’s what they do, Gracie. They talk. But you’re right, they’ll get over it. Something else will happen. Maybe we’ll have some good news or something else they can talk about. I need to get back to the store but if you need anything, I’m here. And sign me up for the workshop.”
“I will, and thanks, Allison. Oh, and don’t forget that Sam Franklin is going to be bringing the donation buckets for the Save Our Schools fund.”
Allison nodded quickly and glanced toward the door. “I’ll remember. But I’m not sure if I’ll be in later today. I have some errands to run and no one to watch the store. If he comes by, can you get the bucket for me?”
“Sure. I’ll bring it down to you in the morning. I’m sure he would deliver them earlier if he could, but he has to wait until school is out.”
Sam Franklin had also grown up in Bygones and was now the school coach and father of twins. Gracie didn’t know how he’d have enough time for fund-raising.
Allison had started to turn and walk away but she faced Gracie again. “Coraline keeps telling me that the best relationships are built on a strong friendship. What do you think?”
“I think I’m definitely the wrong person to ask, but I can tell you that Trent never felt like a friend. I guess I didn’t realize that until it was too late.” Gracie smiled, letting Allison’s unasked question go unanswered. Because to her it felt as if the whole world wanted to know if Patrick Fogerty was more than a friend and if he was the reason she hadn’t gone through with her wedding to Trent.
If that was what people were thinking, then the best way to protect Patrick’s reputation was to keep her distance and not give the good citizens of Bygones any reason to talk. And that was pretty hard to do, since he happened to be her boss.
Chapter Ten
Saturday after closing down shop for the day, Patrick headed for Mrs. Duncan’s. He planned to start their project by power washing her siding even though they weren’t schedule for major repairs or painting until Tuesday. A few people were going to join him to weed flower gardens and do some maintenance on the front porch where some boards were loose and a couple of posts were starting to rot.
He pulled up to the once-elegant Victorian and immediately spotted Gracie. She had a ladder up against the side of the house where English ivy was creeping into the siding. He’d brought weed killer, too. But the vines would have to come down before they could paint.
A couple of people from town were pulling weeds from the flower garden. Coraline Connolly stood nearby, supervising the project the way he’d learned only Coraline could. Around the corner came Mr. Randall.
Interesting. Some people in town blamed him for the current state of affairs in Bygones. Patrick liked the older gentleman, and like everyone else, he wondered what had pushed the owner of Randall Manufacturing to make choices that didn’t make sense.
“Patrick.” Whitney Leigh hurried ac
ross the lawn, a paintbrush in hand.
Behind her stood Josh Smith. Patrick needed to talk to him about those computer problems he was still having. For a guy with a coffee shop, he had a knack with technology.
“Whitney, are you ready to paint?” Patrick grinned past her at Josh, who was shaking his head.
“Of course I am. Your fellow city boy doesn’t believe I can climb a ladder and paint at the same time. I told him it isn’t as complicated as walking and chewing gum, and since he can do that, I can stand on a ladder and paint.”
“I guess you probably can. I need to power wash the siding before we start painting, though. How are you at sanding?”
“I like sand.” She smiled. “I especially like the sand on the Gulf Coast.”
“I mean a sander on wood. The windows are wood framed and the paint is peeling. We’ll have to sand before we can paint.”
“Oh.”
She looked like a woman who had planned on a job that would be more fun than sanding. “Sorry.”
“No, that’s fine. I’ll be back for painting and I’ll sand today.”
“Sounds great but again, I have to power wash first. What about the shed? You could start painting the trim on it. Since it’s vinyl sided we won’t paint the whole building.”
“That’s great.” Whitney followed him back to his truck. He handed her a small ladder, a gallon of paint and a different brush.
“So, I just open it and go to work?” She looked at the can of paint as if it might jump up and grab her.
She wasn’t a Gracie. But he liked her willingness to give this a shot.
Josh Smith stepped forward. “I’ll help her out.”
“Thanks.”
He watched the two of them walk toward the shed and then pulled out the power washer and the new hose he’d brought, just in case Mrs. Duncan didn’t have one. And he really doubted she did. As he hooked the washer up and then searched for an outlet to plug in the cord, Coraline Connolly joined him. Even working out here, she looked like a woman in charge. Her short hair, pantsuit and no-nonsense personality made her an authority figure no matter what she did.
“This is a great project, Patrick. You and Gracie are a good team.”
He plugged in the washer and stood, turning to face a woman he’d come to respect in the few short months he’d lived in Bygones. He also knew what she was up to.
“Coraline, Gracie is just a friend.” Why did he constantly have to defend their relationship?
She touched his arm with a well-manicured hand. “Oh, I know that. Of course I do. Stop listening to
rumors—they’ll drive you crazy. And make you defensive.”
Heat crawled up his neck. “I know. I just hadn’t planned on people linking the two of us.”
“Of course they will. She works for you. You’re a handsome single man and she is obviously still single.”
Before he could respond, he heard Josh shout a warning. Patrick turned toward the shed just in time to see Whitney on the ladder reaching for the paint she’d set on top, above her head. It all happened in slow motion. Her reaching. The paint toppling. He cringed as he watched Josh grab at the falling paint can with its aim on poor Whitney, his free hand shooting toward Whitney.
“Oh, that’s bad.” Coraline had covered her face with her hands but she peeked and then looked up at him. “Why did she have the paint on the top of the ladder?”
“That would be a good question but not one I’m going to ask.” A dog ran through the yard, barking and joining the fray. “This could get insane.”
Coraline started to say something but a scream erupted, stopping her. Gracie. Patrick turned in time to see the dog race under the ladder that Gracie was perched on. The ladder swayed. Gracie reached, trying to find something to hold herself steady. Her grasping hand found a vine but it snapped and she jumped to avoid falling with the ladder.
When Patrick reached her, she was flat out on the ground. The dog, a Labrador-looking thing, was licking her face.
“Gracie?” He knelt next to her, pushing the dog away. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.
“I think the ladder lost its footing.”
“I think it did. Can you get up?”
“Of course. But I think I might need help. I landed on my foot and it’s really throbbing.” She smiled as she said it but a tear squeezed out and trickled down her cheek.
“Don’t get up. Let me look.”
“I need to sit up.”
“Fine, sit up and let me look.” He put his arm behind her shoulders and helped her to a sitting position.
“Patrick, I’m fine. I’ve been hurt worse.”
“Okay, but I can still make sure you’re okay.”
“No, if you can help me to my truck, I’ll just go home and put ice on it.”
Coraline and several others had joined them. Coraline bent to look at the ankle Gracie wouldn’t let him see. “Gracie, you’re going to the clinic.”
“I’m fine.” Her face crumpled a little, because Coraline had spoken. He now saw that it took another hardheaded female to deal with the one in his employ.
“You’re going to the clinic.” Coraline stepped back. “Patrick, help her up and take her to get that ankle checked. The rest of us can finish the work here.”
“You heard her.” He reached for Gracie’s hand but she didn’t give it to him. Instead she managed to stand and then she hobbled away.
“You’ll have to chase her down.” Coraline walked next to him for a few feet. “She’s used to taking care of herself. Her daddy loves her dearly but she’s been the little mama at that house forever, and I think with all those rowdy boys, she got lost in the shuffle.”
“I’ll take care of her.”
Coraline patted his arm. “I know you will.”
He hurried after Gracie. She had stopped and was resting, leaning against a tree. He walked up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turned and half smiled but he could see the pain in her eyes.
“Allow me.” He put an arm around her shoulder and scooped her into his arms, knowing she’d fight like a feral cat if he gave her a chance.
“Put me down.” She wiggled to get free.
“Not on your life, Gracie Wilson. Coraline has given me my orders and I’m more afraid of her than I am of you. Besides, you don’t weigh one hundred pounds soaking wet.”
“You’re not supposed to comment on a woman’s weight.”
“You’ll survive.” He grinned down at her and nearly tripped over a tree root. “Hold still or we’ll both be in the E.R.”
“I wasn’t moving,” she whispered, her lips quivering. No, she hadn’t moved.
He held her tight in his arms and reached for the passenger door of his truck. If he kept his mind busy, he wouldn’t kiss her. He wouldn’t pull her close and hold her the way he wanted to hold her. Behind them were more than a half-dozen citizens of Bygones, all of them looking for something to talk about.
With that in mind, he settled Gracie in his truck, closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. When he got in, she was leaning back in the seat, her eyes closed. He reached for her hand, and her fingers closed around his.
“Don’t tell my brothers.”
“Okay.” He started the truck and shifted into Reverse. “Why not?”
“Because they tend to take over. I really don’t need them taking over.”
“I won’t call them. But you will have to let them know eventually.”
She opened her eyes and smiled at him. A truck honked behind him and he slammed on the brakes, barely stopping in time to keep from getting hit by the truck passing on the road he was about to back onto.
“That was close.” She laughed and her fingers remained on his. “I think I’ve really hurt mys
elf this time.”
“This time?”
“I guess I’m accident-prone, but I usually manage to escape injury.”
“I’m glad you’re telling me now. Maybe I should have put that question on the employment form?”
“Maybe you should have. But I’m usually very careful.”
“Of course you are.” He drove the few blocks to the clinic and parked.
Gracie reached for the door and he stopped her. “I’m coming around there to get you out. Stay where you are.”
“Okay, fine. But I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sure you can.”
He reached for her door just as a truck pulled into the parking lot. A truck with at least two Wilson brothers inside. He opened the door and Gracie shook her head.
“Great, someone called them.”
“They’re your brothers and they were going to find out.”
“Right, I know.”
Before he could answer, the brothers bailed out of the truck they had parked just a few spaces away. They flashed him pretty serious looks and then zeroed in on Gracie.
“What happened?” The taller of the two shot Patrick another look that pretty much put the blame on him.
“Jason, relax.” Gracie smiled sweetly and Patrick guessed she’d had a lot of years dealing with the men of the Wilson family.
“Relax?” The other brother stepped forward. “We got a call from Sam Franklin telling us you fell off a ladder.”
“Sam shouldn’t have called, Caleb. I’m obviously fine. And I hope you didn’t tell Dad.”
“He knows but he’s in Manhattan.”
“Good.” She reached for Patrick. “You can help me now.”
“We’re here. He can go.”
Gracie pointed at her brother Jason. “I’m fine. You can go. I don’t need the brothers Grimm here lurking and scaring everyone.”
Jason laughed a little. “Brothers Grimm? Seriously?”
“Yes, because you’re grim. And you look like a thundercloud. And sometimes you even scare me.”
The Boss's Bride (The Heart of Main Street) Page 11