by Emily March
“I’ll die my hair blond.”
“Your uncle Franklin.”
“Okay, I’ll give myself pink tips!”
“You don’t read the gossip magazines, do you? Your sister Arabella has pink and purple tips. While the resemblance with your sisters isn’t as strong, it does exist.”
“Well, I’m going to try to think positively about this.” What else could he do? “Not everyone has your intuition, Celeste. I’ve gone this long without anyone noticing. And even if someone else here in town does see the resemblance, they have no reason to think it’s anything more than a coincidence. People do have doppelgängers. That’s what they’ll think about me.” Then he closed his eyes and added, “Except I have the most god-awful luck.”
Celeste clucked her tongue. “About that, Joshua. It’s true that you’ve had a terrible time with tornados, and losing your fiancée and her daughter was truly a tragedy. But I do believe you are wrong in the way you think about luck. You’ve certainly brought a positive energy with you to Eternity Springs. Why Brick might have lost everything if you hadn’t been sharp enough to realize that Courtney was stealing from him.”
Josh turned his focus to the motorcycle’s spark plugs. “That’s different, Celeste.”
“Is it? I have something I want you to think about.”
He braced himself, instinctively knowing he wouldn’t like hearing what she had to say.
“Open your mind to the idea that much of what you’ve perceived as bad luck is actually good luck that simply hasn’t manifested itself as of yet.”
Oh. Well. That wasn’t hard. Because it was nonsense.
“It takes a little faith, Joshua. It takes some imagination. But I want you to consider the idea that the most recent tornado that destroyed your business and home might have been the luckiest event of your life.”
He couldn’t hold back his bitter laugh. “I’m sorry, Celeste. That’s a little too far into woo-woo land.”
“Open your mind,” she repeated. “You wouldn’t have come to Eternity Springs if not for that storm. That’s already proven to be a lucky happenstance for Brick. Who knows whose life you’ll affect next? Why, it could easily have been me. If you hadn’t opened your shop, then I’d have ridden my motorcycle to South Fork to have it worked on. I might have been caught in a sudden, freak snowstorm at the top of Sinner’s Prayer Pass. So there you go. You’ve probably saved my life today.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Your mind is an amazing thing, Celeste.”
She crossed to his workbench where her carburetor and spark plugs now sat and placed her hand on his arm. “You are a good man, Joshua. You have a good heart. You’re building a new life in Eternity Springs that has the potential to be something wonderful if only you will allow it.”
Josh didn’t know why a lump suddenly formed in his throat.
“Now, I should have just enough time to walk over to Heavenscents to be on time for my meeting with Savannah. I’ll tell her you’re joining us for Thanksgiving. And don’t forget to mark the Fall Festival planning meeting on your calendar. I’ll pick up my Gold Wing before you close this afternoon. See you later, dear.”
He could do nothing more than reply, “See you later, Celeste.”
She’d been gone no more than a minute when he saw she’d left behind a notebook with a pattern of angel’s wings on the cover. “Bet she’ll need that,” he murmured.
He picked the notebook up and walked out of the work bay. Celeste was just beyond Caitlin’s Gingerbread House and striding rapidly away. He called out to her and broke into a jog. She turned around and he held the notebook up. “You forgot this.”
“Oh, heavens. I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached. Thank you.”
“No problem.” He caught up with her and handed over the notebook. Then he took two steps back toward his shop and paused. “Celeste?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. For keeping quiet about … well … you know. And for the Thanksgiving invitation. And for … well…” He waved his hand around. “Everything.”
Her eyes sparkled. “You are quite welcome. Promise me you’ll think about what I said.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He started back toward the shop, slipping his hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt to keep them warm. Walking past Gingerbread House, he could hear the sound of a skill saw and the pounding of hammers. Caitlin’s renovations were coming right along. She’d told him last night that Jax had told her they were running ahead of schedule. He hoped to be finished by the first of February. She’d tentatively set her grand opening for the first of March.
Josh thought it would be nice to have kids playing in the yard next spring and summer. He glanced toward Harriet’s house. She’d sure like it. Bet she’d sit on her front porch watching them all the time—if she wasn’t off camping by then. He’d noticed the Tornado Alleycats membership application lying on her counter the last time he was in her kitchen.
Back inside the garage, Josh went into his stockroom to check his supply of spark plugs, making sure he had what Celeste needed. He was distracted as he did so, but he didn’t know by what. Something bothered him. Niggled at his consciousness. He removed a box of plugs from his stock shelves and reentered the work bay. What was wrong?
He set down the box and walked back outside. Had he noticed something odd at Gingerbread House? Or maybe at Harriet’s?
He eyed his neighbor’s house. Her newspaper wasn’t in her yard. The flyers that had arrived in today’s mail weren’t sticking out of the mailbox on her porch. Nothing wrong there.
Giving into his instincts, he started up the sidewalk toward Gingerbread House. He’d reached the front walk of his own house when it hit him.
Her bird feeder. Harriet’s bird feeder was empty. She filled her bird feeder up like clockwork after she brought in the mail each day. Letting it remain empty wasn’t like her at all.
Josh changed direction and crossed the street. He climbed her porch steps and knocked on the door. “Harriet?”
She didn’t respond. He knocked again. “Harriet? Are you home?”
Was that a sound coming from inside?
Damn. He had a really bad feeling about this. He tried the doorknob. Unlocked. Opening the door, he stepped inside. “Harriet?”
Then he heard her, her voice weak and thready. “Josh! Oh, thank God, Josh.”
He rushed toward the sound and found Harriet Rosenbaum lying on her kitchen floor. Streaks of tears stained her cheeks.
“I can’t get up. It’s my hip. I’m afraid it’s my hip. Help me, Josh.”
“I will. I’m here. Hold on, Harriet. I’m going to call the paramedics.” Except he didn’t have his phone with him. “Do you have a landline or just your cell?”
“Just a cell. It’s in the living room. Beside my chair.”
“Okay. I’ll get it. Hold on, Harriet. We’ll have help for you in just a few minutes.”
“Thank you. Oh, thank you, Josh. God bless you. The day you moved across the street from me was my lucky day.”
* * *
Autumn faded to winter and in the valley that nestled Eternity Springs, two inches of snow fell on Thanksgiving Day. Caitlin spent a lovely day with her family, though she wished circumstances had been such that Josh could have shared the day with them. Next year, she told herself.
Renovations on Gingerbread House continued to progress well. She settled into a routine where she worked from home in the mornings then wandered over there in the afternoon and spent a few hours tackling whatever jobs Jax Lancaster deemed appropriate for her. Her sense of accomplishment and pride of ownership built every time she swung a hammer.
Her attachment to the mechanic next door continued to grow too.
Mid-afternoon of the first Saturday in December, she sat on a workbench in his garage with Penny in her lap. Idly, Caitlin scratched the doxie behind her ears and watched Josh’s shirt pull tight across his shoulders as he reached above him to do something to the muff
ler of the car on the lift. She clucked her tongue and observed, “I do like a man in flannel.”
“You like me out of my flannel better,” he replied.
“True, that.”
With temperatures hovering in the twenties, Josh had his bay doors closed, even though he was open for business until three. Caitlin had tried to talk him into closing a little early, but the man was infuriatingly responsible. He closed at three, so he’d stay open until three on the dot. Working until three on the dot.
Penny started squirming, so Caitlin scooted off the workbench, carried the dog over to her wheelchair, and fitted her into it. Penny rolled over to her bed, burrowed her long red nose into her pillow, and closed her eyes.
Caitlin wandered back toward the workbench. She picked up a ratchet and twirled it around, liking the clicking noise it made. It reminded her of working with her grandfather in his shop.
Without looking away from the muffler, Josh slipped his wrench into his tool chest and withdrew another smaller one.
“You should wear a leather tool belt like Jax does.”
“Mechanics don’t wear tool belts.”
“Why not?”
“We just don’t.”
“Well, you should. Tool belts are sexy.”
That distracted him long enough to arch a brow in her direction. “You shouldn’t be ogling Jax Lancaster’s ass. He’s married.”
“Don’t be sexist, Tarkington. I’ve noticed you looking at Claire’s butt. I can’t help it that tool belts make me hot. If I give you one will you wear it for me?”
A smile flirted at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe.”
“Without pants?”
“If you promise to hold my hammer.”
Caitlin laughed. She was so gone over this man. “How is Harriet doing?”
“Good. I stopped by to see her yesterday. She thinks she’ll be sent home from rehab next week.”
“That’s good. I know she’s ready to come home. Is her son going to stay with her?”
“No. He’s got to get back to work. He’s hired a live-in nurse for her.”
“She’s going to hate that.”
“Yep. But she knows she’s lucky. The break could have been so much worse.”
Caitlin set down the ratchet and picked up his socket set. She lifted three-eighth-inch deep socket from its slot and peered through it like a telescope toward the clock on the wall. “Five minutes to three, Tarkington. Time to start putting away your tools, don’t you think?”
“If you’ll stop playing with them, maybe I’ll do just that.” He gave the wrench one last twist, then stepped out from beneath the car. He wiped his hands on a shop rag and flipped the lift switch to lower the car.
Caitlin replaced the socket and jumped down to the ground. “I had to keep my hands busy. What I wanted to play with wasn’t available.”
Josh grinned and pulled her into his arms saying, “C’mere.”
He kissed her hello for a long, lovely minute. Yep, over the moon gone for him.
“So, what’s on our agenda?” he asked, then immediately clarified. “As in, where are we watching football? Your place? Mine? Murphy’s?”
“Football!”
“It’s conference championship Saturday. If we go to your house, maybe you can bake us some cookies?”
“Aren’t you afraid my Mom will drop by?” Caitlin asked dryly.
“Good point. I can make a quick run by the Trading Post and pick up some eggs. I think I have plenty of everything else you’ll need.”
She gave an exaggerated aggrieved sigh. “Oh, all right. Only because you said my sugar cookies are better than Harriet’s.”
“Hey, I know which side of my cookie is iced.” Josh gave her one more quick kiss, then released her to begin tidying up his already tidy shop.
“Tell you what. I have eggs at home. I’ll run by there and grab the eggs and pick up the dress I’m wearing tonight. I can get ready at your place.”
In the process of stowing items into his toolbox, Josh paused a moment. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about the deal tonight.”
The very absence of an expression told Caitlin just how unhappy he was about tonight’s event at the Yellow Kitchen. She couldn’t blame him. She wasn’t happy about having to attend the dinner party either, but honestly it was his own fault. She’d been ready to bring him as her date.
They’d argued about it, but he’d been resolute in his refusal. He didn’t think that the celebration dinner welcoming Boone McBride to Eternity Springs and her father’s law practice was the right time and place to take their relationship-that-wasn’t-one public.
“It’d be waving a red flag at a bull, Cait,” he’d told her. “If we decide to go public, then let’s do it at a time and place when escape is possible.”
So, tonight she was going solo to her father’s big event, which made Mac happy as a clam. He hadn’t tried to hide his hope that she and Boone would hit it off.
Josh, on the other hand, seemed more aggravated by her father than normal. Serves you right, Josh Tarkington.
This friend affair of theirs wasn’t going to last forever. Either he’d have to finally admit that their relationship was a relationship or … well … she didn’t want to think about “or.” Not yet. Not until after Christmas.
“I’ll meet you back your place then?”
“Sure.” He still wore a scowl.
Caitlin decided to leave him in a better mood. “Do you have butter?”
Sure enough, the reminder of the promise of fresh baked cookies cheered him up. “I have some. Maybe one stick. How much do you need?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll bring it.” She gave him a quick kiss, then said, “See you in half an hour.”
“I’ll preheat the oven.”
She paused at the door and gave him a saucy look. “Darlin’, my oven always stays heated around you.”
Journal Entry
Put a toe tag on me and leave me the hell alone.
My therapist pretended he didn’t hear me say it, so I said it again. Louder. I meant it, too. I’d rather have a coroner do a Y-cut on me than have that asshat poking around in my head any longer.
Therapist. The rapist. Kinda apropos, don’t you think?
Hour after hour. “How does that make you feel?” “What are you feeling?” “Do you feel like you’re making progress?” “Tell the group about your feelings.” “And that will be two hundred dollars an hour, thank you very much.”
It’s all bull. If they’re so smart, they should tell a person what to do. Instead, they ask questions and we’re supposed to do all the work figuring the stuff out.
What a crock.
And this is supposed to help me how?
Chapter Twelve
Josh couldn’t keep his mind on football. For one thing, the game was boring. Alabama was pounding their opponent. So what else is new? He had a sugar rush going on because he had way overindulged on Caitlin’s cookies. His body was still humming from shower sex, and she was in his bathroom blow-drying her hair so she could go out to dinner with another man.
Josh couldn’t put his finger on why, exactly, but it really chapped his butt. He wasn’t worried that she’d actually fall for the lawyer, was he? No. Absolutely not. Caitlin wasn’t the type to dangle two men on her string at the same time.
So, she’ll dump me.
She’ll dump me and in a month she’ll be wearing a rock on her hand and in June her happy daddy will march her down the aisle and this time next year she’ll be pregnant with twins.
“No,” he muttered aloud. “She’s not going to do that.”
Well, it’s not like you didn’t tell her that you aren’t into marriage and kids. If she does move on to someone who can give her that, then what right do you have to say anything? Fool.
He grabbed the remote and started channel-surfing. When a familiar black-and-white movie flashed on the screen, Celeste’s words reverberated through his mind. You are the spitting image of your great-
grandfather.
Was he?
And of course, it was just his luck that Caitlin walked past the media room door right at that moment wearing nothing but her makeup and one of his fluffy white towels. “Ooh,” she said. “I love this movie. There’s a scene coming up where Benjamin Trammel and Grace Kelly stare at each other and you think the film is going to burst into flames.”
Damn. Josh’s thumb pressed the remote buttons and returned to football. “I’m not a fan of old movies, myself. Didn’t you say your dad wanted you at the restaurant at seven? You’d better get moving or you’ll be late.”
She sighed. “You’re right.”
She disappeared into his bedroom and returned ten minutes later wearing a little black dress, three-inch heels, and a strand of pearls. Josh’s stomach sank. “You look fantastic.”
She made a little curtsey. “Thank you.”
“Nice pearls.” From an old boyfriend?
She fingered them, smiled, and gave him the information he wanted. “They were my grandmother’s. My mother’s mom. My grandfather gave them to me.”
Mollified and a little embarrassed by his reaction, Josh stood and walked over to where she stood. “They suit you and what you’re wearing tonight. Understated and classy. Though I think colored jewels would suit you better. Emeralds to match your eyes.”
She grinned. “Yes, emeralds are the perfect accessory for changing diapers and wiping three-year-olds’ snotty noses.”
Words formed on the tip of Josh’s tongue asking her to stay, to stand up her parents up. To tell Solicitor McBride that she was taken. In a relationship.
A cheer erupted from the television and halted the dangerous direction of his thoughts.
“Alabama wins,” Caitlin said. “Imagine that.”
She opened his front closet and removed her dress coat. Shaken by what he’d almost done, he rose and said, “I’ll drive you.”
“I can walk, Josh. It’s two blocks.”
“It’s cold. Your toes will have frostbite by the time you get there. I’ll take you.” He made his way to the back door in the mudroom and lifted the keys to his truck from their customary hanger.
Abandoning her argument, Caitlin followed him to his truck and climbed into the passenger seat. He turned the ignition switch and sat in his drive for a few minutes as the engine warmed up. Caitlin said something about a cookie sheet and the dishwasher and a soap pod, but he barely heard her. Josh was in a stew.