Fighting Fate

by Hope, Amity

  “I can see why he’s in Murphy’s. I want to know why he’s in Laurel!”

  “Where should he be?” Gretchen demanded.

  Sarah shook her head. “I don’t know. Anywhere but here.”

  “Wait, who is he?” Gretchen asked with a grin.

  Sarah ignored her. The object of her irritation had just finished his transaction. She peered at him from around the display again. He tucked the box containing the drill under his arm, stuffed the receipt in his back pocket and took off toward the door. To her surprise, he hesitated for a moment. She found herself crazily thinking he’d sensed her presence. Or possibly he’d just sensed someone staring at him, burning holes into the back of his head.

  She ducked backward, pulling Gretchen with her once more.

  “What is the matter with you?” Gretchen wanted to know. The expression on her face implied that she didn’t know whether she should be amused or worried.

  “Nothing,” Sarah said.

  She leaned around the display again, just in time to see his form disappear through the automatic doors. She took off, scampering across the store. At the wide bank of windows, she came to a halt. She watched as he crossed the street. To her dismay, he walked up to the motorcycle parked next to Gretchen’s car. He lifted the flap on the large saddlebag and carefully wedged the drill inside.

  “He rides a Harley?” Gretchen asked as she pointed out the obvious. “Nice!” She grinned in appreciation.

  “It’s the middle of a Monday afternoon. Shouldn’t he be working?” Sarah muttered.

  “You’re not working,” Gretchen pointed out.

  Ignoring her, Sarah said, “He probably doesn’t even have a job.”

  “He must have a job to afford a bike like that,” Gretchen argued.

  “Maybe he stole it.”

  Gretchen raised her eyebrows in question. “Seriously?”

  Sarah didn’t respond. Instead, she turned around and headed back to the paint aisle. She had things to do. Obsessing about him was not on her list.

  “Wait,” Gretchen said as she scrambled to keep up. Sarah stopped to inspect some painter’s tape. Gretchen blew out a sigh. “Sarah, I know that was Cole Montgomery.”

  “You recognized him?” she asked without looking up.

  “Not the first time.”

  This caused Sarah’s head to snap up. “Not the first time? So you knew he was back in town?”

  “I may have seen him riding around town.” Gretchen winced. “On more than one occasion.”

  “And you didn’t tell me because…?”

  Gretchen shrugged, keeping her expression entirely innocent. “Because it really doesn’t matter that he’s back. Does it?”

  “You’re right,” Sarah agreed with a carefree shrug. She knew her sister was baiting her. She was not about to bite. She took off down the paint aisle again, this time in search of color samples. She could hear Gretchen shuffling along behind her, hurrying to catch up.

  “Or does it matter?”

  Sarah shot her an annoyed look. “Of course it doesn’t.” She hesitated before adding, “Other than now I know to avoid him whenever possible.”

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  Chapter Two

  The following afternoon, the harsh scent of bleach hung in the air. Sarah found it comforting. After leaving the hardware store yesterday, she and Gretchen had gotten a good head start on the cleaning. Since then, they had washed down the walls, the insides of the cupboards, the floors and every knickknack and piece of furniture in between.

  Twice.

  Earlier that morning, Sarah had met with a carpenter her dad had recommended to her. He had given her an estimate on a new roof, new siding and a new porch. She had asked him how soon he could start. It was disappointing to hear that this time of year he already had several weeks’ worth of work lined up. Of course it made sense that summer was his busy time, she just hadn’t given it much thought until then.

  He left with the agreement that he would get to her as soon as he could.

  Now, she was rinsing out her cleaning bucket for the last time. Gretchen had just finished shampooing the living room furniture. She was down in the cellar, folding up the plastic coverings so that they could be stored in a box.

  When Sarah was done, she put the bucket and the mop in the cleaning closet right off of the kitchen. Then she stood with her hands on her hips and took a look around. Now that everything was spotless, and the furniture wasn’t hiding under dusty plastic covers, the house looked like it should.

  Memories of her grandma flooded over her. Sarah knew that Cora had never forgiven Melinda for abandoning her family. That had been made clear when Cora’s will had been read. Sarah would never forget the look on Melinda’s face. She had been furious. To make matters tenser, Cora had left a decent sized sum to Gretchen, earmarking it for college expenses. Though Gretchen was in no way related to Cora biologically, Cora had treated her every bit as well as shebuckng as shed treated Sarah.

  The amount she’d left for Gretchen wasn’t huge. But she’d left Melinda nothing.

  It was at that point that Melinda had gotten up and skulked out of the lawyer’s office without so much as a goodbye to Sarah. Looking back, the whole experience had seemed surreal. She had been so heartbroken over her grandma’s death. She had felt numb to the fact that Melinda—she refused to think of her as ‘Mom’ because she wasn’t—had come back to town.

  They’d barely spoken at all. In a short, cordial conversation, Frank had found out from his ex-wife that for the last several years she’d been living in a town less than half an hour away. That knowledge may have been a blow to Sarah had she not already been suffering from the loss of her grandmother. As it was, she had given up on missing her biological mother a long time ago.

  A shriek shot up from the cellar, pulling Sarah from her thoughts.

  “Gretchen?” she called as she started toward the cellar stairs. Please don’t let her have found a mouse. Or a rat, she thought.

  A long string of mismatched cusswords streamed up the staircase.

  “Are you alright?” Sarah asked. She carefully made her way down the rickety wooden steps. She could never descend into this space without thinking of her grandmother and the horrible fall she’d taken. Perhaps she should add ‘replacing the staircase’ to her ever-growing To-Do List.

  Her foot tapped down on the cracked concrete floor. Despite the sickly yellow light, she easily spotted Gretchen in the corner of the room. She was standing in front of a row of shelving. The shelves were crammed to bursting.

  She held up a coffee can. It was the old tin kind that you don’t find in stores anymore now that everything was packaged in plastic. The name listed across the front was a brand Sarah had never heard of. She assumed it hadn’t been available in stores for years.

  “I was just poking around, trying to see what was on these shelves. I was sure some of this stuff could be tossed. I thought it would free up some storage space for you,” Gretchen explained.

  Sarah nodded as she moved further into the dingy space. “I know a lot of this stuff can go. My grandma was a packrat. She kept everything. Dad always said it was a result of living through The Great Depression.”

  Gretchen nodded absently. “Anyhow, I started moving around some of these cans to see what was behind them. I picked one up because it rattled when I nudged it. I found a bunch of coins inside so I got curious.

  “Didn’t Cora leave you some cly.e you srazy amount? Like fifty thousand dollars?”

  Sarah blinked at her, surprised at what seemed like a sudden turn in the conversation. She simply nodded because she knew that Gretchen knew Cora had.

  “Huh,” Gretchen eloquently replied. Her voice was higher pitched than normal. She stuffed a hand into the can and pulled out a wad of cash. “Hundreds,” she clarified. “I think your inheritance may have just increased substantially.”

  “What?” Sarah asked as she quickly covered the space between her sister and herself.

>   Gretchen let out a giddy laugh. “Oh, that’s not all. I started pulling lids off. These,” she said as she swept a hand toward the cans on the shelf in question, “all have money in them. Most of them have coins. Some of them have cash. I didn’t get through all of them. I opened this one and the hundreds completely took me by surprise.”

  Sarah took a step backward. She took in the sight of the messy, overstuffed shelves. To the far right were jars that held Cora’s canning. Sarah knew she should have thrown them all away by now. She just hadn’t taken the time. Moving inward were boxes. They were all labeled and seemed to mostly contain holiday ornaments. Next came the shelves full of dozens of old tin cans. Sarah had always thought her grandma kept them only because she hated to throw anything away. She’d seen a few out in the old barn turned workshop that her grandpa had used to store nails, screws and other random objects. Next were totes full of old photo albums and other keepsakes. It seemed that Cora had used whatever was handy at the time. Some items were boxed, some were in bins, some were in bags.

  “If I were you,” Gretchen said, “I would open every last box, can and bag before you toss anything.”

  Sarah nodded. “I will.”

  “So, what do you want to do with all of this?”

  “Leave it for now?” she asked, sounding unsure.

  “Here?” Gretchen demanded.

  Sarah shrugged. “Why not? It’s been here for years. We’d never sort through it and make it to town before the banks closed.” She reached past Gretchen toward the shelves. She began randomly removing lids as her sister had done. It was as Gretchen had said. Every can contained money in some form or another. Sarah plucked a coin out of a can.

  “She didn’t seem to be particular,” Gretchen said. “She saved a lot of pennies.”

  “This isn’t just a penny. It’s an Indian Head,” Sarah told her. She reached back into the can. She pulled out a handful of change. “There are a lot of them. And some Buffalo Nickels.”

  “So what you’re saying is that even the pennies are worth a lot?” Gretchen asked, wide-eyed.

  Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know. They might bea hhey mig. I don’t know a lot about them. Just that some are worth more than others.” She examined another coin. She held it up for her sister to see. To Sarah, it looked like the face of a grumpy lady, wearing a tiara, surrounded by stars. “I’m not even sure what this one is.”

  “You don’t seem to be very excited,” Gretchen pointed out. “I feel like a pirate that’s found some hidden treasure. Mom looks more excited when her favorite wine is ten percent off than you do right now.”

  Sarah’s lips turned up slightly and she shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t really care about the money. I’d rather have Grandma back.” She reached back over the can again, letting the change trickle back inside.

  “You took off your ring.” Gretchen’s voice was full of surprise.

  Sarah glanced at her bare finger. “It didn’t fit under the rubber gloves. I had to take it off.”

  Gretchen didn’t say anything to that. She could have pointed out that it had been eighteen months and two weeks since Sarah had a reason to wear it. But she didn’t. And Sarah loved her for that.

  When Gretchen’s stomach growled she let out an embarrassed laugh. “I have an idea. This place is about as clean as we’re going to get it for now. I haven’t eaten since breakfast and I know you haven’t either. Let’s head over to Lucky’s. I could use a drink and they’ve expanded their menu. We can get an early dinner. I’ll even let you buy mine,” she teased.

  Sarah agreed and half an hour later they were seated in Lucky’s Tavern. Sarah had been craving nachos. Gretchen told her they couldn’t order nachos unless they ordered margaritas. So they had.

  Now, each of them sat with a large, salt rimmed glass in front of them. The enormous plate of shared nachos was between them. Sarah grabbed a cheese covered chip and dunked it in some salsa.

  “So, what are you going to do about the…you know,” Gretchen said as her eyes went wide, “in the cellar?”

  “No idea. I should probably sort through it all before I cash it in. There might be some coins worth keeping for sentimental reasons. At the very least, I’m sure that most of the coins are worth more than what they seem at face value. I might have to do some research. I just don’t know when I’ll have the time.”

  She didn’t want to tell Gretchen she just didn’t feel like dealing with it. That would sound ungrateful. That wasn’t the case at all. It was just that the past few months, hell that past few years, had worn her down. She’d resigned from her position at the school she worked at in Crawford this past spring. She’d packed up what little was left of the small rented home she had once shared with Aaron. Before that, she had been dealing with Brynn, Aaron’s sister. Gretchen had no idea just how miserable Brynn had been making her life since Aaron’s death.

  She had no intention of telling her either.

  Brynn blamed Sarah for what had happened to Aaron. Quite frankly, Sarah agreed. So she’d put up with Brynn’s torment for as long as she could stand. Finally, she’d had enough. With Aaron gone, being in Crawford had become too painful. That was why she’d decided to move back to Laurel.

  Brynn had been happy to see her go. Sarah was sure then that the slashed tires, the graffiti on her garage door, the hateful messages on her answering machine…they had all been Brynn’s effort to get her to leave town.

  It had seemed like providence that the school district in Laurel was hiring so many new teachers. If they hadn’t been, her back-up plan had been to sub in the district until she did get hired. Thanks to her grandmother, she could’ve padded her paltry subbing income with her inheritance. Fortunately, it hadn’t come to that.

  She had nearly two months of summer vacation left before she started her new job. She had thought those months would be quiet, peaceful and uneventful. She had thought she would be able to use that time to emotionally regroup. So far, it didn’t seem like that was likely to happen.

  “Something is wrong with this picture,” Gretchen said. She paused to take a sip of her drink. “It’s happy hour. And you do not look happy.” Her gaze suddenly shifted from Sarah and her concerned expression was traded in for a smirk. “Maybe that will cheer you up.”

  Gretchen motioned toward the center of the bar with her chin. Sarah followed the line of her movement.

  Cole? Again? Where had he come from?! She was sure he hadn’t been there when they arrived. At the very least, she was sure his Harley hadn’t been in the parking lot. He was strutting toward the bar, wallet in hand. He glanced down as he weaved his way around the tables scattered across the floor. He pulled out some cash as he reached the man behind the counter.

  “I can’t believe this,” Sarah grumbled. “I’ve only been in Laurel three days and I’ve seen Cole two times. And the first night doesn’t really count because I didn’t get here until after dark and I went straight to Mom and Dad’s.”

  Gretchen looked far too happy for Sarah’s liking. “What a coincidence! Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something.”

  “What?” Sarah moaned. “That I deserve to be punished?”

  “No! Now stop that!” Gretchen said as she tossed an olive at her sister. Sarah deflected it and it bounced across the table.

  Against her will, her eyes drifted up to the bar. Gretchen didn’t tease her about it. Instead, she mirrored the action.

  “Oh my,” Gretchen whispered. “Check him out. Motorcycle boots, black leather jacket, snug jeans that fit him like nobody’s business. That windblown hair. Did you see that hair? It’s the kind of hair that leaves you wanting to run your fingers through it. That man is—”

  “A cliché,” Sarah grumped as she interrupted Gretchen’s bizarre monologue. Her sister’s words sounded almost rehearsed, yet she said them with feeling. “He’s nothing but a living, breathing cliché.”

  “Of bad boy hotness,” Gretchen interrupted right back.

&nbs
p; Sarah knew she should say something to that. Refute it somehow, but words—and apparently all coherent thought—were evading her at the moment. Worse yet, for a reason she didn’t quite understand, her sister sounded like she was a walking, talking advertisement for the trouble that was otherwise known as Cole Montgomery.

  “I’m right. You know I am,” Gretchen gloated. “He looks good and you know it.”

  “Oh just…shut up,” Sarah grumbled.

  “Classy, Sarah. Really,” Gretchen said with a wry smile. She noted how her sister was scowling at Cole’s backside. “Come on. What did you expect? Of course he’s dressed like that. It’s a typical outfit. It’s not like he’d be out on a Harley wearing sneakers, sweats and a trench coat.”

  Sarah wanted to tell her sister to stop checking the man out. She couldn’t because she really didn’t feel justified. Not when she was doing the exact same thing.

  “I’ll bet he has a tattoo. Maybe a couple of them,” Gretchen said dreamily as she swung back around in the booth. She raised an eyebrow at Sarah. “What do you think?”

  “I think I don’t care,” Sarah replied.

  Gretchen smirked at her and Sarah knew that Gretchen knew she was lying.

  It was well past the lunch rush. Yet it wasn’t quite the end of the normal work day yet—making Sarah’s assumption that Cole had turned into a bum seem even more likely. The bar had some patrons but it wasn’t overly crowded. Gretchen swung back around again to get a better look.

  Sarah couldn’t blame her. She was noticing how Cole’s dark windblown hair really did look like it needed someone’s fingers to be run through it. She was telling herself that person would never be her. Not again.

  That’s when he turned around, his gaze landing directly on her. His startled look of surprise and disbelief must’ve matched the look she wore yesterday. She let out a little whimper and looked away, trying to pretend that she hadn’t seen him.

  And that she hadn’t seen him seeing her.

  “He spotted you,” Gretchen said. Her eyes were sparkling mischievously and Sarah didn’t like it one bit.