by Mia Ross
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“I hope you’re better in court than you are at lying.”
“I’m a fabulous lawyer! An honest one,” she added with venom.
He didn’t react one tiny bit, and she blew out an exasperated breath. “You’re mean.”
“I’ve been called worse, believe me.” His eyes had gone a murky bluish-gray that could only mean trouble. “You don’t want to tell me, fine. But I know something’s wrong.”
Caty looked down at her gold MG key ring, rolling it around in her hand while she debated. When she met his eyes, she saw something that surprised her: concern. Matt was worried about her. She couldn’t imagine why he cared, but if she kept quiet, he’d only worry more. With everything else going on, that was the last thing he needed.
“You trusted me, didn’t you?” she asked.
He nodded. “I promise to keep it to myself.”
It hadn’t occurred to her that he wouldn’t, which shocked her. People had to work hard to earn her trust, but he’d already done it, without her even noticing.
“Okay, but not here.” She nervously glanced around to see if anyone was watching them.
His frown deepened into a scowl. “How bad is it?”
“Bad enough that I don’t want the entire town to know, at least not just yet. Do you remember where my grandparents’ house is?”
“Oak Street. I’ll follow you.”
Traffic had hit its usual midmorning lull, and they made it across town in no time. She parked in the cracked driveway, and Matt pulled in behind her.
As he got out of his truck, he stared at the house with a skeptical look. “How long’s this place been empty?”
“Three years,” she replied as she took a suitcase out of the tiny trunk. “I was living in Boston when Grandpa died. After the funeral, I just locked the door.”
“Boston,” he echoed in disgust. “Only use for all that snow is skiing, if you ask me.”
“I’m with you on that one.”
“Took you long enough to agree with me on something,” he grumbled.
“We Scots are genetically stubborn.”
He chuckled. “Is that we like ‘us,’ or wee like ‘small’?”
“So clever. You should buy a microphone and do stand-up.”
“Nah. John’s the funny one.”
She’d always thought so, but she was discovering that Matt had a wry sense of humor all his own. A little more subtle, but it was there if you were paying attention. A pleasant surprise, it made Matt seem more down-to-earth. When she put her key in the front door, she got a not-so-pleasant surprise.
It didn’t work.
Caty pulled out the old brass key and checked the color of its little plastic frame. Green, for home. It was the right one, so she inserted it again and added some elbow grease. The tumblers squealed but finally rotated with a very rusty click.
“Needs some WD-40,” Matt said. “I’m sure there’s plenty of other stuff around here that could use it, too. Might want to start a list.”
Making a face at him, she pushed the door open. “I’ll remember.”
Dusty was the first word that came to mind when she stepped inside. Musty was a close second, along with dark. The last were easy enough to fix. Two of the cracked shades ripped when she tried to raise them, and the dirty windows muted the sunlight. As she took a good look around, she thought maybe keeping things dim wasn’t such a bad idea.
“Looks like the set for a haunted-house movie, doesn’t it?” she asked, her voice echoing around the living room. Dust-covered sheets were draped over everything and busy spiders had fashioned cobwebs into creepy swags hanging from the ceiling and the corners of every doorway.
Everything was still where Grandpa had left it, right down to the salt and pepper shakers on the rack above the stove. With no one around to wind it, the grandfather clock in the hallway had stopped ticking long ago. Gram’s prized Queen Anne sofa still reigned in front of the picture window, and her heirloom china filled the hutch along the far wall. It was as if time had stopped, trapping the little house in the past.
It should have depressed her, but it actually did the opposite. After so many years away, searching for a place that felt like home, she’d found it right here where it had always been.
“Well, it’s looked better,” Caty joked, turning to find Matt still standing in the doorway. “Come on in.”
He came in a few steps and stomped his foot, unleashing the scurrying of furry feet. “Those are only the ones out in the open. There’s no telling how many more of ’em there are.”
“Afraid of mice?” she asked sweetly.
That got him. He joined her inside and folded his arms with a let’s-get-on-with-this look.
“Okay.” Nobody in Harland knew what had happened, and she wasn’t thrilled about fessing up. Taking a deep breath, she let the words out in a rush.
“I got fired.”
He didn’t parrot the words back at her the way most people would have. Instead, he asked, “Why?”
“You heard me mention that scholarship fund your dad set up for me.” Matt nodded, and she continued. “I keep a list of all the people who contributed, and whenever they needed legal help, I logged it in at the firm as client development. I came to Harland on weekends or vacations, did everything on my own time.”
“No one at your office knew?”
She shook her head. “Pro bono work was allowed only for approved clients and charities. If my supervising partner knew about my work down here, he’d pitch a fit. So I didn’t tell him.”
“But he found out.”
“He summoned me to his throne room this past Sunday morning and confronted me with a stack of papers. He claims he handles personnel issues on Sundays to avoid disrupting business, but I think it’s a power play to ruin people’s weekends.”
She heard the bitterness in her tone and sent up a quick prayer for patience. “Anyway, he didn’t have any actual proof because I did all that work at home with my own equipment and supplies. But he tripped me up like one of those moronic witnesses on TV. I decided to come clean and offered to make amends, but he wouldn’t hear any of it.”
“Nice guy.”
“Tell me about it. He told me I’d gotten too close to my clients, and it clouded my judgment where the firm was concerned.”
“Meaning you were too nice to us poor folk, and the bigwigs lost money.”
“Basically.”
She didn’t mention that he’d threatened to turn her in for more official disciplinary action. Even though she wasn’t sure it was a real possibility, just the thought of it scared her to death. She’d worked too long and too hard to risk destroying her career. While her instincts had told her to fight, she’d backed down and slunk out of his office before things got worse.
“Anyway,” she continued, “he and his wife had brunch plans, so he gave me one hour to clear out my office and leave. Then he had the nerve to check through all my boxes, take my key and lock the front door behind me. By Tuesday, I decided the best thing was to come home, and I started packing. I was renting a furnished town house, so mostly it’s books and clothes.”
Matt looked well-and-truly amazed. “You did that all by yourself?”
“I’m perfectly capable of— What’s so funny?”
He was grinning at her and shaking his head, for what was probably the tenth time since they’d met yesterday. She couldn’t determine whether she was truly that baffling or if the gesture was actually aimed at himself. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she wasn’t the kind of woman he was used to hanging out with.
“Nothing.” After a quick look around, he said, “But you can’t stay here. It’s a mess.”
She bristled at his assessment of her house. Sure, it needed some TLC, but he made it sound as if it was ready for the wrecking ball. “It’s fine.”
“Oh, yeah?” He stomped his foot again and got the same scurrying response.
“I’ll have Frank Hastings come out tomorrow to set some traps and block up the holes they’re coming through.” She mimicked brushing dirt off her hands. “Problem solved.”
“You’ve got no electricity,” he argued. “The well pump won’t run without it, which means you’ve got no water.”
“Today I will, Saturday at the latest. This is Harland, so they’ll just flip a switch down at the substation. It doesn’t take days, like in Charlotte.”
“Do you even own a toolbox?”
“No, but I can buy one. And tools to go in it,” she added before he could zing her.
“Will you know what to do with ’em?”
Now she recognized that he was teasing, and she took it in stride. “I’m not exactly the handy type, but they have lots of DIY stuff online. If I really get in a jam, I’ll call Gus over at the hardware store. He’ll help me out.”
After a few more tries, he finally gave up. “You’re set on doing this?”
“Yes, I am.”
Caty rolled up the sheet that covered the camel-back sofa. Stepping back, she admired its graceful lines with a fond smile.
“I remember sitting here in front of the fireplace with Gram, learning how to read. We traveled all over the world, had all kinds of adventures. I haven’t had much time to read lately. When my books get here, I’m going to fix that.”
“Sounds nice,” Matt commented without a hint of teasing.
“I’ve been gone a long time,” she murmured. “It’s good to be home.”
“I know, but until the electric’s on, you’re welcome to eat and shower out at the farm.”
Considering the stuttering nature of their still-raw friendship, his concern for her was really sweet. “That I’ll do. Thanks, Matt.”
“No problem.”
Following her lead, he grabbed the opposite end of the sheet that had covered her grandfather’s rolltop desk and helped her fold it. Staring down at the desk, he let out a low whistle. He’d done that with her car, too, she recalled with a grin. Apparently, that was his customary stamp of approval.
“That’s mahogany. Did your grandfather make this?”
“Yes,” she answered proudly. “It took him two years, and he said he loved every minute of it.”
“How come you didn’t take it with you?”
Smiling, she ran a hand over the fluted cover. “For one thing, it weighs a ton. Mostly I thought it belonged here, with everything else,” she added, looking around the room. Neglected for so long, it would take some serious work to get everything back to Gram’s standards. But right now, time was something she had plenty of.
With the worst of the dust caught in the sheets, she figured it was okay to open the windows. She unlocked one but it wouldn’t budge. Chuckling, Matt stepped in and wrestled the stubborn sash loose. It groaned in protest but finally rose, letting in a welcome breeze, scented with the honeysuckle running wild in the overgrown garden.
While he forced the rest of the windows open, she retrieved a dusty old broom and twirled it through the heaviest cobwebs. Fortunately, she’d had the foresight to roll up the enormous Oriental rug and leave it along one of the walls. Once she had swept the plank floor, she’d unroll the carpet and the place would look more presentable.
After chasing dust bunnies for a few minutes, she realized it was a losing battle. Taking her phone from her back pocket, she opened the notepad app and wrote down “test vacuum cleaner” and “WD-40.”
When Caty and Matt couldn’t quit sneezing, she called a time-out. They went on the front porch, and Matt strolled to his truck. He brought back two bottles of water and offered her one. “I’ve got a cooler in the console, so they’re cold.”
“Oh, thank you!” Taking a long swallow, she added, “Perfect.”
He sat on the step below her, which put them almost eye to eye. For a while, they sat in companionable silence, enjoying the fresh air.
“Can I ask you something kinda personal?” he asked.
After all the help he’d given her today, she was feeling generous. “Shoot.”
“How did you end up here with your grandparents?”
“Gram and Grandpa took me in when my mom died.”
That got his attention. He rested one elbow over the step behind him, angling to look at her. “Really? How old were you?”
“Nine. She died in a car crash.”
Of all the people she’d ever known, only Matt could understand how drastically that single moment had changed her life. Sympathy flooded his eyes, and he frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago,” she said, hoping to lighten his suddenly somber mood. Parents dying was a hard enough subject any day, but for him right now it was even more so.
“I’m still sorry. What about your dad?”
“I never met him,” she confided in a careless tone she didn’t feel. “Gram told me more than once we were better off without him.”
“Did you ever try to find him?”
Very few people knew her history, so no one had ever asked her that question. Old wounds she’d thought long healed cracked open with an unwelcome jolt of pain. “He didn’t want me. Why would I try to find him?”
Matt’s face took on a pensive expression. “Did he know about you?”
“I don’t know,” she snapped. “We didn’t talk about him. Ever.”
“Then how do you know he didn’t want you?”
“He left and didn’t come back. What else was I supposed to think?” She swallowed hard to force down the emotions clogging her throat. She’d gone her whole life without him and had done just fine. It shouldn’t hurt anymore, but sometimes it hit her unexpectedly and all she could do was ride it out.
Matt held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“I should let you go,” she said, eager to let the topic rest. “I have a lot to do, and you need to get home.”
“Charlotte is home.”
She was in no mood to debate with him, and she rolled her eyes in frustration. “To the farm, then. Your family’s waiting on you, I’m sure.”
“Right.” With a grimace, he got up and headed for his truck. At the end of the patchy stone walkway, he turned back. “You’re still coming out later?”
The look on his face reminded her of Tucker when he thought you might not stop to pet him. After putting up with Matt’s characteristic swagger, the momentary vulnerability made her smile.
Holding out her arms, she said, “Do I have a choice?”
His uncertainty gave way to that crooked grin. As much as she hated to admit it, it did have a certain charm.
“Guess not,” he said. “See you later, then.”
Chapter Four
Now that she had her car, Caty picked up some cleaning supplies and headed home. She worked for as long as she could, but when the dust got to be too much for her, she took a break. Sitting on her front porch steps with a bottle of lukewarm water, she wished she had an in-car cooler like Matt’s. Her phone rang, and she was thrilled to see the exterminator’s number on the caller ID. Fortunately, Frank was in town and promised to make her his next stop. She was just about to call the electric company when she heard footsteps turn onto her broken stone path.
Glancing up, she saw one of her neighbors out walking a wiry gray schnauzer. Prim and proper as her owner, the pooch sported a wide blue ribbon like the kind dressed-up children wore a hundred years ago. “Good morning, Mrs. Fairman. How are you today?”
“Sitting up and taking nourishment,” the slender woman answered in a bold voice that belonged in a much larger person. With snowy white hair and the immaculate speech of a true Southern lady, Priscilla Fairman had been president of the Harland Ladies’ League for Caty’s entire life. She was also a constantly moving cog in the town’s gossip mill.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Caty patted the step beside her. “I don’t have chairs yet, but would you and Annabelle like to sit awhile?”
“Thank you, dear. We’d enjoy a little rest.”
Caty steadied her while she sat. Once she was settled, her guest said, “Forgive my poor manners, but I couldn’t help seeing what you’ve been up to over here. Are you selling your house?”
“Not a chance,” Caty told her with a smile. “I’m coming home.”
Mrs. Fairman’s face lit up as if it was Christmas morning. “How wonderful! It will be so nice having you here again. Young people aren’t much for visiting these days, but you always make time for me.”
“That’s because I enjoy it so much.” Careful not to squeeze too hard, Caty hugged her around the shoulders. “Tell me what’s been going on lately.”
“First I want to ask how the Sawyers are doing. George and I started our morning prayers with them.”
“They’re managing,” Caty replied.
“That’s good to hear. Such a horrible shock, Ethan going that way.”
“Yes, it was.”
Half expecting Mrs. Fairman to ask about Matt being here, Caty was relieved when the conversation moved on to less personal things. While her neighbor got her caught up on the goings-on around town, several more people stopped to wish them a good morning. A few even beeped, waving out their car windows on their way into town.
When Frank arrived, he greeted Caty with a bear hug and a demand that she come by for supper with his family sometime soon.
As he went inside, Mrs. Fairman wished her a pleasant day and continued down the sidewalk, with Annabelle trotting alongside. Waving after them, Caty called up an online phone book and dialed the power company. Frank’s brother Alan answered.