Another plus was Celia had her health. That was important. If she didn’t take care of herself, she couldn’t be the best she knew how to be for her son. Add in that Pinetop was the best place to live, and her community was amazing, and she’d have to say she was fortunate.
After finishing her list of things to be grateful for, the pounding in her chest subsided, and she felt better.
Needing supplies that only Jackson’s truck could carry, she dropped him off at work and headed toward the hardware store.
The citizens were preparing to build Christmas Parade floats for the holiday extravaganza scheduled only a few weeks away. They rehabbed the tops of previous floats with new themes to save money. Her task was to price out materials and pick things up if they were affordable.
To draw attention to the Hummingbird Inn, she had her own float this year but was sadly without inspiration. Nothing seemed to resonate. The town tried to stick with small-town values or the typical Christmas themes, but inspiration had evaded her.
She motored along until the engine of the old Ford sputtered. It ran like a well-oiled machine most of the time, but lately it had been making odd noises. A red light flashed on the truck’s dashboard just as she hit her first stop sign toward town.
She didn’t recognize the lit-up symbol and thought about the time she didn’t put the gas cap on correctly and a similar light turned on in her car. Since she was so close to town, she figured she could make it to the gas station and have Mike take a look. She rolled forward, the truck coughed, and the light flashed again, making her rethink her strategy. Practice what you preach. Safety first.
She pulled onto the soft shoulder of the road and reached into the glove box for the manual. It wasn’t her truck, and she didn’t want to take any chances.
As she leafed through the pages, a car pulled up behind her. It was a fancy, low sitting sports car that reminded her of a shiny blue gemstone. She rolled her eyes when she saw the driver. She sat still as if by doing so, Rob wouldn’t notice her.
“Hey, Jackson,” he called out as he approached the driver’s side door.
Tinting the windows was one of the first things her son had done when he bought the truck, like somehow that would make it hip.
She tried to set aside her anxiety at seeing him again. He stirred her in so many ways.
That he stopped to help touched her heart even though he was thinking it was Jackson who was in trouble. The fact that he thought it was Jackson affected her more. He showed more concern than his father ever had.
She rolled down the window and smiled. “I’m not Jackson.”
“No, you’re not,” he said. “Is there trouble or did you just pull over?”
There was enough smolder in his voice to make her heart race.
She pointed to the dash. “A red light came on,” She held up the manual. “I was looking it up.”
He leaned on the door, his head peeking inside the window. “Turn her on, and let’s have a look.”
She did as he asked, all the while breathing in the scent of his cologne. It was light and spicy and filled her nose with amber and vanilla and a hint of cinnamon.
She turned the key, and the light flashed.
“Okay,” he said. “You can turn her off. It’s coolant. Hold on one second.”
Rob leaned back and checked out the truck bed, then reached in and lifted a bottle.
“As I suspected,” he said. “Jackson has a leak, and he’s probably been doctoring it by filling up the well as needed.”
“All I need is to put that in and I’ll be good to go?” she asked enthusiastically.
“Not so fast,” he said with a mild chuckle. “You’re hot right now.”
She blinked. “I am?” Her hand went to her hair to brush it from her eyes.
He raised his brows and smiled. “What I meant to say is the engine is hot. Let’s let her sit a bit, and then you can put this in. Do you and Jackson share the truck?”
“It’s his, but I borrow it.” It was a harmless question and Celia gave up the answer easily. She was more guarded with strangers, but then again, Rob wasn’t really a stranger. He was just a person she hadn’t seen in a long time. In a small town, no one was actually a stranger.
“I just bought a truck myself. I’m having it delivered in a few days. Everyone around here seems to have one, and Lucky and I don’t fit in my car.”
“Lucky?”
“That’s the dog.”
She noted that his face was engaged in a mild smirk as he looked at her. She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her somehow.
“Right … the dog. Everyone in town knew Fiona’s dog by sight. I didn’t remember his name. Her owning all that land had to be the best kept secret in the world. I still can’t get over it.”
He nodded. “I think you can pop the hood now. I’m happy to cover the repair. I can follow you, and we can drop her off at a service station.”
“I’ll bet Jackson can fix this himself,” she said. “Besides, I would want to ask him before I made any plans on his behalf. Part of growing up is being responsible for yourself.”
“He’s a good kid. I don’t know him all that well, but sometimes you can tell these things.” He pushed off the door and took a step back. “I offered the fix as a gift. It might be selfish, but if he can’t drive his truck, he can’t get to my place to walk the dog. I’ll default to your motherly wisdom. Whatever you think is best.”
First, the high wages for dog walking and now this. His generosity irked Celia, and she wasn’t exactly sure why. She searched her feelings until she realized she didn’t trust him. It wasn’t him specifically, but men’s motives in general.
For the longest time, she’d fantasized about a man who would be there for her and for Jackson, and in the slightest way, Rob was. Now she was pushing back. It all came down to her ex-husband who should have been there for both of them but wasn’t.
“If you open the hood, I’ll fill up the coolant. You should be able to make it into town and back to your place.”
She popped the hood and spied through the opening it created. Bits of Rob, with his boyish disheveled hair and fleece-lined denim jacket, showed through the opening as he serviced her truck. She wouldn’t have taken him for the type to know anything about cars, but then again, he was from Pinetop. You could take the man out of the country but couldn’t take the country out of the man.
Rob closed the hood and gave it a pat. He walked to the truck bed and put the coolant back where he’d found it. He wiped his hands together and Celia instinctively reached for the glove box again.
“Here.” She searched around and let out a sigh before she closed it up. “Sorry.”
“What’s up?”
She stopped. “I keep baby wipes in my car. Apparently, Jackson doesn’t.”
His smile dazzled her.
“I don’t imagine he does, Mom,” he teased gently. “Listen, I mean it. I would like your input about my plans and anyone else who would like to have a say, I’m willing to listen.”
She shook her head. “You had to do that, didn’t you?”
His brows lifted. “Do what?”
“Spoil things by bringing up the fact that you came here to change everything.” She started the car. “Goodbye, Mr. McKenna.”
She hoped that Rob was the type of guy who talked about doing something for a long time before he got around to acting on it.
She put the truck in gear and drove off. Soon she was in town and pulling into Pinetop Hardware. She grabbed the materials list from the seat and made her way to the door. As soon as she entered the store, the smell of Rob’s cologne was replaced by the smell of paint and pesticides.
It wasn’t long before the manager tailed her. Scott Carson was always a bit too friendly when she was in the store.
“Afternoon, Celia,” he said. “Can I help you with something?”
“I have the materials list.” She waved it above her head. “The things we’ll need for the Christmas fl
oats.”
“Let me see.” Scott was good looking and a nice man. It was a shame she didn’t click with him. He’d probably make someone a nice boyfriend or even a husband. Sometimes Celia longed for one or the other, but she was glad she had neither. She came from the camp of once burned, always shy because twice shy wasn’t enough.
“How about I price it out for you?” He walked toward his desk. “I’m working on a materials list for the Harvest Festival now. I guess they want to do an American Idol theme but Pinetop style.”
Celia was not on the committee, so this was pleasant news to her. It sounded like fun to hear the townsfolk show off their talents. Last year they had a pie contest and Mary Whatley won with her triple berry, double-crusted number. Celia had entered her strawberry rhubarb and got an honorable mention.
Funny how Rob asked what the town harvested. That was obvious. They harvested goodwill and the concept of community.
While Scott was pricing out her materials, she could head over to the thrift shop and make up for lost time.
“Thanks, Rob,” she said with a smile.
“Come again?” he asked, his face tight with a frown.
She hadn’t even known what made her say that name.
“Who’s Rob?” he demanded more than asked.
“I apologize. I meant Scott,” she said. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Yes, she did. She was thinking tall, tousled hair, and handsome. She popped a few quarters into the soda machine on her way out and bought herself a diet cola. After that Freudian slip, she needed a drink.
She waved to Scott and smiled again to make up for her misstep. Why was Rob McKenna in her every thought and on the tip of her tongue?
Chapter Four
Rob
The first ride in his new truck was into town with Lucky riding shotgun. He didn’t need any permits for his fence, so ordering the supplies straight from the hardware store was the next thing on his list. On the phone, the manager assured him he could refer him to someone who could handle the whole thing.
Faded cursive letters hardly showed on the weathered hardware store sign. It took him back in time, as though years between his past and now had all but melted away. Though he was a native son, it had been a lifetime since he’d been back to Pinetop.
A gust of wind blew past him. With the weather being unpredictable and a cold front moving in, he found his crew neck sweater and the denim jacket he wore insufficient.
Lucky hopped out as soon as Rob opened his door. They walked together into the store. Not once did his new furry companion pull on the leather leash.
The building was deceiving. The inside was much larger than the outside suggested. Careful rows of lumber stretched from the concrete floors to high ceilings. Tidy shelves of everything from lawn tools to snow shovels lined the aisles of the rest of the store.
He stopped in the main aisle to read the signs directing him to fencing materials. He found what he was looking for and scoured the area for an employee. Coming up empty-handed, he walked to the service desk for help.
“Hi,” he said to a burly man with shaggy brown hair.
“Howdy,” the man answered.
Rob thought he recognized him.
“Scott? Scott Carson?”
“Yeah. Oh, my goodness, you’re Bobby McKenna.” He reached over the counter and pounded Rob on the shoulder.
“I go by Rob now.” He realized he might have to do that a lot until people got to know him again.
Scott was one of the few football players who hadn’t hazed him mercilessly in high school. In part because they were the same age and by the time Scott played football, Rob was big enough to defend himself.
“Rob.” He said his name as if it solved a puzzle.
“Yeah,” he said. “Kind of hard to have people take you seriously in business when you put Bobby on the contracts.”
“I got you. My grandmother still calls me Scotty.”
He looked over his shoulder toward the fencing supplies. “I put a new house on my property and need a fence for this guy.” He ruffled the fur on Lucky’s head.
“You’re the one who called.”
“Yes.” He handed Scott the rough drawing with the measurements and told him the kind of fencing he wanted.
“We can get you set up. Once I see your permit, we can start. You can order the material, but it will sit around until the permits are in. With this weather, it’s not a good idea to wait. Not the ideal time for fence building in the Rockies.”
Scott had a pleasant enough demeanor, but Rob couldn’t shake the feeling that there was some underlying tension between them.
“You’re talking because I picked something out that’s taller than four feet, right?” he asked.
“Exactly.” Scott looked him directly in the eye. “You can do four feet without a problem.”
“The guy in the permits department said go ahead, wink, wink.” Rob laughed.
“I’m not that guy,” Scott replied with a voice as cold as his eyes. “There’s a big difference between what we want and what we can have.”
Was he talking about something other than fencing?
Rob attempted to plead his case. “You know where I live, right? It’s out in the middle of nowhere. The four-foot rule has to do with obstructing views. The guy gave me the go-ahead.”
“I’m not that guy.”
He felt himself tense and knew if he threw a big city fit, they would brand him as difficult. “Fine,” he said, throwing up his hands in a truce. “You’re right. I’ll pick out something else. How about a pallet fence?”
“That we can do,” he said. “We’ll have to do it quickly. We’re expecting the ground to freeze solid by the end of the month. I can come out and dig the fence posts say … day after tomorrow.” He looked at Rob’s drawing and counted. “After that, I can do this in a day, two tops.” He stared straight into his eyes. “Does that work for you?”
“That would be great.” Rob’s voice didn’t show the frustration still plaguing his body.
“Outstanding,” said Scott. “Say …”
“Yeah?” asked Rob.
“You haven’t by any chance run into Celia Roberts since you’ve been back, have you?”
“I have. We share a property line.”
“Big Victorian on the other side?” asked Scott with a dark smile.
“That’s it, but you can’t really call us neighbors since my place is on the far end of my mom’s land.”
“Good.” Scott dropped Rob’s drawing onto the counter.
That was an odd response. “Why do you ask?”
“I just wouldn’t want the fence building to bother her or her guests.”
“Right.” He started to walk away but Scott called him back.
“I’ll going to tally this up, and I’ll need a fifty percent down payment. I have a standard contract for this kind of project, but we can use the store’s acceptance of your payment if that works.”
If Rob couldn’t have the fence he wanted because of rules, he wouldn’t let Scott off that easily. He turned the tables.
“Well now,” he said with a smile. “Since you’re a by the book kind of guy, I wouldn’t want you to lower your standards for me. You were right about the fence. I think we should be consistent, don’t you? As soon as we have a materials list, then I’ll sign the contract and give you a check. Sound good?”
Scott nodded. Something was up with him for sure. He wasn’t unfriendly, but he wasn’t nice either.
He thought it was too good to be true that Pinetop would have no memory of him being bullied for being a bastard. Reputations were hard to come by in the big city and hard to lose in small towns, but he wouldn’t lose sleep over it.
He loaded Lucky into the truck and drove home.
As he pulled into the driveway, he saw Jackson’s dented truck out front, waiting for him. It was one of his dog walking days and Rob had almost forgotten.
“Hey, sorry, man,” he ca
lled out as Jackson exited the truck. “Kind of hard to walk the dog when I have the dog.”
“No worries,” said Jackson. “I brought my mom. She kept me company.”
Rob hid his smile. Seeing Celia was like a lottery win.
She slid out from the passenger side and walked around to join her son.
“Celia, do you like tea?” Rob asked.
“Hmm.” She shrugged like she could take it or leave it.
“Are you kidding?” asked Jackson. “She drinks it like she’s from England.”
“Does she?” Rob flashed a grin as he stared her down.
Rob set Lucky free. The dog was over the moon excited to see the boy, who came equipped with a ball. He removed the dog’s leash and Lucky took off. When Jackson tossed the ball, both boy and dog disappeared around the back of the house.
Rob headed to Celia and said, “Why on earth would you say no when you mean yes?”
“I didn’t come for tea.”
“I don’t imagine you did, but I have some excellent peach that I mix with milk to make peaches and cream. Then I have some hibiscus, which is my favorite. I also have—”
“I got the picture,” she interrupted. “I’d love some tea.”
“Good.” He rubbed his arms. “It’s cold out here. Let’s go inside to get warm. I’ll show you the house and the view. We’ll have tea and sit by the fire until Jackson wears the dog out or the other way around.”
“You’re out here by yourself.” She stepped onto the stone walkway that led to the front door.
“It’s kind of nice. It's peaceful.” He leaned forward, careful not to crowd her while he unlocked the door. “And here we are.”
She stepped inside and halted. “It’s lovely. Much nicer than I imagined.”
“Not bad for a pretend Victorian,” he ribbed.
“It isn’t bad at all.” She drifted forward, but he noticed she was taking it all in.
Christmas Inn Love Page 3