Livy winced and stiffened. The barrel was even with her face.
“What on God’s green earth?” A new voice sounded from the direction of the truck.
Claire spun and the gun released a shot in the direction of the voice.
Livy fell to the ground, covering her head with her arms. There was a scream. Feet running. Muffled cries. And then Jack tackled Claire, knocking the gun several feet away under a bush as they fell to the ground.
Mr. Wilson. Over her shoulder, Livy saw him lying on the ground against the truck. After a quick glance to Jack, who seemed to have control of Claire, she jumped up and ran to her elderly neighbor. His eyes were closed tight. “Mr. Wilson! Are you hurt?” She ran her hands over his chest and arms, searching for a wound.
He grimaced. “That crazy woman shot at me!” His voice was gruff but clear.
“Did she hit you?”
“No, she didn’t hit me! She had that gun dancing all over the place like she was aiming at rotating ducks at a carnival.”
Livy let out a relieved sigh.
“That bullet is probably still flying through the air somewhere in Tennessee. But it about scared the Holy Ghost out of me. I fell right down. Guess my survival instincts aren’t quite as old as my body.”
Livy chuckled. “But you look like you’re in pain. Do you think you hurt something when you fell?” A broken hip or knee, maybe?
“Yes, dear. I fell on top of my cane, and it’s poking me right in the kidney. Help me up, would you?”
Livy heaved Mr. Wilson to his feet, handing him his cane, and helped him to the back fender of Jack’s truck. Across the yard, Jack knelt in front of Claire as she sat cross-legged on the grass, still crying. He had one hand on her shoulder, speaking softly.
Mr. Wilson spoke up. “I was out for my walk and heard some commotion when I neared your driveway. I made it about halfway up before I overheard some of what y’all were discussing and decided you might need some help. My daughter insisted I start carrying this stupid cell phone”—he pulled one out of his pocket—“so I called the police and told them they’d better get out here. But I never dreamed she’d have a gun.” He shook his head. The gravity of what had just happened was likely sinking in for the old man. For Livy, too. Someone could have died—any of them, all of them. And the cottage, the memories of Gram, her hope for the new beginning she’d sought in Laurel Cove—it could have all gone up in flames. She collapsed against the side of the truck, and began sobbing into her still-trembling hands. Mr. Wilson shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
They both looked up at the sound of sirens in the distance. Moments later, two police cars pulled up the driveway. Livy gave one officer an account of the incident while another approached Jack and Claire, taking Claire into custody. It struck Livy how civil it all was now—though nothing about this seemed real. As Claire was put into the back of a squad car, Jack joined Livy and Mr. Wilson near the truck.
Jack embraced Livy in a hug that enveloped her, his head bending to rest in the curve of her neck. He trembled. “I’m so sorry.”
“Okay, you lovebirds. That’s enough cuddling.” Mr. Wilson rapped his cane against the bumper of Jack’s truck.
Livy chuckled as she tightened her arms around Jack’s shoulders. “It’s okay, Jack. We’re okay. It’s over.”
***
It took about an hour for the police to collect statements from Livy, Jack, and Mr. Wilson after they’d taken Claire away. Livy watched Jack shake the officer’s hand before he left. Jack had the weight of the world on his shoulders as he approached her and Mr. Wilson where they sat on the porch steps. It would take some time for them all to recover from the day’s events. Jack probably most of all.
“Let’s get you home, Mr. Wilson.” Jack reached to help the old man stand.
Even with such a personal trauma, Jack was still focused on others. Livy’s heart swelled with pride and gratefulness.
While Jack drove Mr. Wilson back to his house, Livy began cleaning up. She stared at the house from the yard—the destroyed flowers, the broken windows, and the porch doused in gasoline. Livy climbed the porch steps, set the empty gas container upright, and unlocked the front door to assess any damage from the broken windows. As the screen door creaked open, something light yellow in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Crumpled by the edge of the porch was a lightweight jacket. It had to be Claire’s. Livy picked it up. Underneath was an ink pen and a box of long fireplace matches. A chill crawled along her arm and up her neck. Things could have turned out so much worse. Thank you, God, for protecting us all. She folded the jacket over her arm. Something stiff inside a pocket caught her attention. Reaching in, she pulled out a folded piece of paper. One side was an advertisement from the Blue Bird Café Livy had gotten in the mail on Thursday. On the other side was a handwritten note. Dear Olivia, it read at the top. Livy drew in a short breath, following the elegant curl of the lettering. Why not a letter to Jack? Was she ready to read anything Claire had to say to her? But with Claire on her way to jail, it was difficult to maintain anger. Not for someone so taken over by guilt and heartbreak.
Instead of heading inside, Livy left the porch with the letter in hand and walked along the edge of the front yard where she could fill her lungs with fresh air.
Dear Olivia,
I am Jack’s first wife, Claire. I had my chance to be happy with Jack, and for a while, I was, but I was not able to hold true to the vows I made to him on our wedding day. For better or worse. But in my mind, I was expecting perfect. Selfishly, I went looking for perfect somewhere else, not realizing until it was too late that life with Jack—even the hard days—was as near perfect as life could get.
But I’m so confused. So tired of feeling guilty. I didn’t know how to love Jack like he deserved. Now I can’t get thoughts about the two of you together out of my head. It should be me and Jack. But I never gave us a chance to work, never wanted to admit my mistakes. It was so easy to blame him for my unhappiness.
I recently overheard a good friend of Jack’s say that he loved you and is planning to ask you to marry him. I loved him, even when I made my mistakes. But the truth is, I don’t deserve him. I never deserved him. Any woman who can heal Jack’s wounded heart after what I did to him deserves the nearly perfect life he can give.
I’m sorry for what I’ve done to your house. I can’t bring myself to light the matches. But I know I can’t live watching Jack love another woman the way he could have been loving me, had I let him. Let him love you the way only he can.
Claire
A tear rolled down the curve of Livy’s cheek and over her quivering lips. Claire had intended the gun for herself. She had written the note on whatever she could find after breaking the windows and destroying the flowerbeds. Sadness overwhelmed Livy, clutching at her chest. This woman, so broken and riddled with guilt, did not see any chance at being truly forgiven.
Livy gazed at the gentle cascades of the mountains in the distance. Her own sins may not have been as severe as Claire’s choices today, but how miserable would life have been if she didn’t believe in a loving Father God whose endless grace poured over her and washed away her bad choices, disappointing behavior, shortcomings, and failures? Indeed, that grace was what she’d found in Laurel Cove after her own sorrow. What she’d found through a fresh start.
“I forgive you.” Her words, heard only by the lush nature around her, floated away on the breeze. Maybe one day she’d get to tell Claire in person. Lord, be with Claire. She’s hurting and needs to know your saving grace. You’ve already rebuilt my life. Rebuild hers, too.
She read the letter again, this time her eyes catching on Jack’s intended proposal. The familiar sound of Jack’s truck made its way up the driveway. Even given the day’s awful circumstances, Livy could not help but smile. She folded the note and tucked it in her back pocket. They had quite a bit of cleaning up to do, and she knew Jack would get around to his plans in his own time.
Twenty-Seven
J ack could have predicted it. Two weeks had passed since the incident with Claire at Livy’s house, and Laurel Cove residents were still in a tizzy about it. And Jack found himself at the center of town gossip once again.
“Another afternoon like this and I quit.” Hoisting himself onto the counter behind the store’s register, Jasper thumbed through a stack of receipts before tossing them aside.
Jack’s shoulders hunched over the register as he struggled with a new roll of receipt tape. The store had finally resumed a manageable pace after a busy morning and afternoon. “I hear you.”
“Claire goes nuts and everyone wants to come get a look at the poor ex-husband turned victim. It’s not even died down. Don’t get me wrong, the extra business is great, but no one’s fooling me.” A thump sounded behind Jack. “I’m going for a cold soda while I can. Want one?”
The register hood clicked into place. “Got it. And yeah, sure. Thanks.”
Jasper was right. Ever since news had spread around town about what happened at Livy’s house, he and Claire were once again the talk of the town. Folks he’d never seen step one foot into the store suddenly needed odds and ends. Many purchases amounted to less than ten dollars, which Jasper called the entrance fee to the circus. Several folks came right out and asked how he was. Most were nice about it and wished him and Livy well. Others were bold with their inquiries, proving just how fast facts could get stretched. Was Claire in jail? Was it true she’d punched Livy? One little old church lady even slipped him a card for her lawyer, who she said was ruthless about justice.
He had no intention of dragging Claire’s name through the mud any more than the rumor mill would. Yes, she was incarcerated, but only from charges brought on by the police. And he was angry. Claire had put everyone in danger—including herself, but, thankfully, no one was hurt and the drama with Claire was over.
The front door creaked open, its bottom scraping the floor. Jack had been meaning to fix that.
“About time. Meredith and Greg busy today?” Jack brushed the eraser shavings off the sales ledger and set the book aside, his mouth watering at the thought of the cold drink Jasper was bringing him.
“Hi, Jack.”
His eyes jerked up at the small but terse voice. Mary Sue and her mass of bright auburn curls approached the counter. He straightened. What did she want?
“Hi, there. Something I can help you find?”
“Jack, listen, you know I don’t mince words.”
He nodded. The Closed sign on the door begged to be turned outward. Another half-hour and he’d be free, off to dinner with Livy.
“I came to say I’m sorry.” Every hardened feature of her freckled face softened. “I was just awful to you and Livy when you came into the restaurant a while back. That is her name, right? Livy?”
Of all the things Jack expected from Mary Sue, this beat all. “Uh, yes, that’s right.”
“As you can imagine, Claire had her own side to y’all’s story. She was pretty convincing about your fault in what happened between you two. I know you and I were never friends, but I see now that I had no right to throw gas on the fire.”
Jack couldn’t help but chuckle at her choice of words.
“I honestly had no idea how troubled Claire was about everything. I’m sorry I was so nasty. Okay?”
“Okay. Thank you for saying so. That’s really big of you.” Jack extended a hand across the counter, which she shook quickly before turning to go.
Mary Sue paused with a hand on the door and turned to Jack. “She asks about you. She hopes you’ll forgive her one day.”
Jack hoped so, too. The doorknob pulled from Mary Sue’s hand as Jasper walked in with two longneck sodas. She slipped past him and was gone.
“Geez, I can’t leave you for five minutes, brother. Everything all right?”
Perspiration dripped down Jack’s wrist from the bottle. He pulled the cap off under the edge of the counter and clinked the glass against Jasper’s bottle. Cold, refreshing fizz filled his mouth.
“Yeah. Everything’s going to be fine.”
***
“Oh, dear, I’m sure going to miss having you here. The place will feel so empty.” Aunt Bea stood with Livy and Jack in the parking lot of the inn. She shifted her weight back and forth and wrung her hands around the end of a pink handkerchief.
“I’m going to miss seeing you every day, too. You’ve been so gracious and welcoming.” The Laurel Cove Inn had been the perfect place to spend these last few months. The two women embraced for a long, tender moment.
“I sure enjoy seeing my two girls lovin’ on each other.” Jack put his arms around Livy and his aunt, and they laughed.
Livy helped Jack load her car with the last of her things. “I’d love to have you over for Sunday lunch after church one day.”
“I’d love that, honey. And come by any time!” The pink handkerchief waved in the air with more pomp and circumstance than the moment called for, but it was endearing.
Livy looked up into Jack’s blue eyes and her contentment wrapped her like a blanket. “Thanks for helping me with these things. I’ll see you in the morning around eight for breakfast, right?” Her love for him, with her whole heart, hit her most during simple times like this.
“Yes ma’am. And I like my bacon crispy.” He winked before kissing her and closing the door. She headed out of town, no longer a resident of the old, charming inn.
The drive to the house felt different this time, both an ending and a new beginning. She’d anticipated this day ever since arriving the few short months ago. But the inn had become her home and Aunt Bea her family. Still, she was finally on her way to her home—where old memories waited to welcome new ones.
When she saw Gram’s house that first full day in Laurel Cove, it looked sad, tired, and neglected—reflecting her own disappointed and disheartened state coming from New York. Now, the gravel under her tires sounded about the same as the car climbed to the end of the drive. But the view that greeted Livy today was everything she hoped it would become.
Standing outside the car, she took in the bright white siding, tin awnings gleaming under the sun, and the rainbow of blooms outlining the windows. The yard was free from rusty debris and patches of dirt, replaced by a fresh carpet of grass the color of limes. The house’s signature pink concrete steps had a fresh coat of paint. It was cheery, inviting, and reminded her again of the beloved home she had visited as a child.
And yet, it would be a while before Livy didn’t also see flashes of the dramatic encounter with Claire. The destroyed flowerbeds, broken glass, the struggle in the yard. Lord, help me to fully forgive Claire. And help Jack. It was a prayer she’d prayed at least once a day these past few weeks.
The rest of the day Livy unpacked her clothes and found places for the last of her belongings from the inn. She then headed out to the yard and spent a few hours tending to the flowers under the warm late spring sun, which, thanks to the breeze, was quite pleasant. The various blooms still had a bit of growing to do before they would begin to resemble Gram’s nurtured, colorful yard. But it was coming along, and Livy intended to enjoy the chance to watch it grow.
The day before, she and Jack had installed a new tree swing for Beth and Noah to play on when they visited with Owen and Jen. Jack had pushed her on it when they were done, just as he had that summer when she was a young girl. Livy took a seat on the wooden plank seat and pushed off the ground, letting the sun wash over her as she glided. From childhood friends to being in love, life with Jack had come full-circle. The new start she’d hoped for in Laurel Cove turned out to be so much more than restoring a run-down home. She’d rebuild her life.
We did it, Gram. We did it.
CHAPTER
Twenty-Eight
L ivy blinked awake to a beautiful sunny morning. She’d been up late the night before with Jack and the crew finishing inventory at the store, but had no trouble throwing back the
covers. She’d waited for weeks for their drive through the Blue Ridge Parkway. It took her no time at all to get ready. As she left the house, she grabbed her camera, sure there’d be some sights worth capturing today.
At Jack’s place, Rex’s eager licks and the savory aroma of breakfast greeted Livy.
“Good morning, beautiful.” Jack brushed his lips against her cheek, a kitchen towel thrown over his shoulder and a spatula in one hand. He looked handsome and rugged in Army-green hiking pants and a snug gray T-shirt. His red NC State baseball hat was backwards, one of her favorite looks on him.
She peeked around him to the stovetop. “Smells like my favorite!”
“Yep. Blueberry pancakes.”
She hugged him from behind as he flipped the last few onto a plate. “How’d I get so lucky?”
He turned with the plate of hotcakes and leaned close. “I think I’m the lucky one.” His voice was low and tender in her ear.
They enjoyed breakfast overlooking the mountains then packed a few snacks and some water before heading out. Rex had always accompanied them on hikes, so when Jack patted him on the head and said, “See you later, buddy,” it surprised Livy.
The entrance to the Parkway was only a few miles south of Jack’s property. Once they turned onto it, the scenery took on a different feel. Laurel Cove was a small town and fairly remote compared to Asheville. But on the Parkway, it was as if nothing had been touched, save the narrow, paved two-lane road. Jack drove them around winding roads, some fairly steep, the truck hugging the side of the mountain. Looking too far over the edge made Livy dizzy, so she focused her gaze across the valleys to far-off ridges and peaks.
They pulled off at several lookouts and took pictures of grand views and even a few small waterfalls. They took time for Livy to read all of the signage that told about historic spots and little-known facts. She even got to see one of the famous aqueducts, an impressive feat of engineering.
Someplace Familiar (Laurel Cove Romance Book 1) Page 24