The Wishing Season (A Chapel Springs Romance Book 3)

by Denise Hunter

  “But what are you going to do with all those rooms?” Ryan asked.

  “Have babies?” Jade’s rings clinked together as she laced her fingers.

  “Not funny,” Mom said. “Let’s get her married first.”

  Jade gave a wry grin. “Gee thanks, Mom.”

  Mom rubbed her shoulder. “Now, honey, I didn’t mean anything by that. You know we couldn’t love the twins more.”

  “Seriously.” Madison tossed her long brown hair over her shoulders just in time for Beckett to come up behind and rub them. “Why not the B & B? I thought it was a sound idea, if a bit much to take on.”

  A bit much for PJ, she meant. “I could’ve handled it just fine. But Mrs. Simmons felt Cole Evans’s plan had merit also.” She sighed and let them in on the rest of the plan. “She couldn’t make up her mind, so she wants to see our plans in action. We have one year to make a go of it, and then she’ll make her final decision.”

  “Wait,” Dad said, a chicken breast hanging from the massive tongs in his mitted hand. “You have to wait a year?”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Mom said.

  “Yes.” PJ’s leg bounced under the table. “It’s like a trial run. We’ll each have our separate enterprises.”

  “Separate!” Jade said. “You’ll be under the same roof. What do you even know about this guy?”

  “I don’t like this, PJ.” Dad lowered the chicken to the grill and closed the lid.

  “You need to think this through, honey.” Mom stilled PJ’s leg with a hand. “Getting a restaurant up and going will be expensive.”

  “You know, most businesses don’t even make a profit the first few years,” Madison said.

  “Do you think I haven’t thought this through? I won’t have to pay rent, so my overhead will be low. If, God forbid, I lose, I can store all the equipment and open my restaurant later. As for operating expenses, I can work part time if I need to.” And staff would come really cheap, but she wasn’t about to go there. Besides, she didn’t see that working anyway.

  “But you’ll have the construction loan,” Beckett said, taking a two-second break from Madison’s massage.

  “I’m aware of that. I’ll keep the build-out to a minimum.”

  “What if he’s dangerous?” After what Jade had been through in Chicago, it was a legitimate question. A date rape had left her pregnant and alone. It was only after coming home that she’d managed to find stability again—and Daniel had played a big part in that.

  “His background check was clear,” Ryan offered.

  PJ shot him a look of gratitude.

  “Isn’t it kind of a weird coincidence that he showed up on her doorstep, rented the same house?” Mom said.

  “Apparently the house got caught in the middle of the Tacketts’ divorce,” PJ said. “Deb rented it to me, and Herb rented it to Cole.”

  “I still don’t like it,” Mom said.

  “I can ask the sheriff to run a more thorough investigation if that’d make you feel better, Mama Jo.” Daniel wasn’t one to throw his mayoral weight around, so it was hard to be offended by the offer.

  “Thanks, Daniel.”

  “He may have already done that for Mrs. Simmons,” Ryan said.

  The sheriff was Mrs. Simmons’s nephew, after all. It made sense she’d want to check his background before letting him move in.

  “Cole has a good heart,” PJ said. “He wants to help foster kids, and his business plan is viable. He even has his funding in place already.” Why was she taking up for him? “I’m not saying it won’t present some challenges, but I can make anything work for a year.”

  “You seem awfully solemn for a girl about to move in with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome,” Madison said.

  “Oooh, you never said he was good-looking,” Jade said.

  Daniel gave Jade’s shoulder a squeeze. “Hey now.”

  Jade kissed his knuckles. “Just don’t sign anything until you get the background check—I don’t care what he looks like.”

  “And have an attorney look over the documents,” Ryan said.

  Too late. On both counts.

  Dad crossed his arms. “I still don’t like this. I’m going to have a talk with Mrs. Simmons.”

  PJ stopped short of rolling her eyes. “No, Dad. I’m an adult. I can handle this.”

  Mom patted her back. “That’s right. She’s an adult. I’m sure everything will be just fine. And we’ll pitch in, won’t we, kids?”

  “Sure.”

  “Of course.”

  PJ didn’t miss the skeptical looks on their faces. She clenched her teeth. She was going to win this house if it killed her.

  It was late by the time PJ left her parents’ house, worn out from the questions. Why was she always defending herself? No one questioned Madison when she wanted to become a vet. No one said a peep when Jade wanted to start teaching guitar or when Ryan wanted to be a volunteer firefighter. Hello, he was risking his life.

  Okay, it wasn’t that they hadn’t said anything to the others. Her family always had plenty to say. But it was obvious they didn’t trust PJ to make big decisions. They just didn’t think she was capable of making it on her own.

  She inhaled, then exhaled hard. It had been a long day at the fudge shop, then the awkward meeting with Mrs. Simmons and Cole, and the family meal . . . all of which made her want to sink into her comfy bed with her familiar quilt and feather pillows.

  Or better yet, hit the kitchen and whip up something delicious—a raspberry cheesecake . . . crème brulee . . . a nice chocolate ganache cake? Mmm, that sounded good. She’d been noodling over a new recipe. But she needed a quality bittersweet chocolate and heavy cream.

  PJ swung left when she reached Main Street. The market on the other side of town was her best bet, but it closed at eleven. Despite her need to hurry, she went slowly through town. Sheriff Simmons liked to sit back in the Acorn Street alley and catch people going thirty-four in a thirty.

  The sidewalk had been rolled up hours ago, the only movement coming from the Rialto theater lights running in their never-ending rectangle and the whipping of the flags in front of the courthouse.

  She accelerated as she exited town and rounded the curve by the marina. The lights twinkled off the Ohio River. Overhead a nearly full moon brightened the sky.

  On the other side of the road, the park was quiet and empty save for a truck at the back of the lot. She squinted and eased her foot off the gas. Was that Cole’s truck? It had sat in her driveway for two days, an old-model blue Ford.

  She couldn’t tell the truck’s color in the dark, but it had to be his. No one in town drove one like it, and it was unlikely to be a tourist this time of night.

  What was he doing here? Taking a midnight stroll? She saw a movement in the front seat and pressed the gas pedal again. Why was he sitting in his truck this time of night instead of settling in his hotel room?

  Unless . . .

  The night he’d shown up he’d said—once he regained consciousness—that he had no place to go. And she’d made it clear he wasn’t welcome in her shed. She followed the road, looking in her rearview mirror, guilt wedging into the tight spaces of her heart.

  Chapter Eight

  PJ STEPPED OUT OF HER CAR AND LOOKED UP AT THE WISHING House. It was all hers. Well, not all hers. Just the first floor, and only for a year. But it was about to become her very own fine dining establishment. She bounced on her heels. She could do this.

  She walked up the steps to the lawn and stopped, envisioning the sign she was going to order. It would go right beside the walkway, in front of the beautiful flower garden. She’d been planning to name it Wishing House Bed & Breakfast and call the restaurant The Grille. But since the B & B was on hold, she’d decided to name her restaurant Wishing House Grille. Classy but not pretentious. She’d add the B & B to the sign after she earned the house.

  The sweet fragrance of lilacs drifted over on a breeze, mingling with the scent of freshly mown grass. A mourning dov
e called from the branches overhead, its call soft and lamenting.

  A door slammed behind her, and PJ turned. Cole strode up the steps. She remembered seeing his truck at the park and knew he must be even more eager than she to take possession of the house today.

  He wore a black T-shirt and worn jeans. His short hair was mussed, and a few days’ stubble covered his jaw. Neither diminished his looks one bit.

  “Morning,” he said.

  She returned the greeting, dragging her eyes back to the yard. “I was just envisioning where the sign should go. Right here, I think. These flower beds are beautiful, but they’re going to take a lot of work.” She scanned the yard. “A lot of grass to mow too. Maybe some good chores for your kids, right?”

  The corners of his mouth tightened. “My kids aren’t going to become the help around here, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  PJ crossed her arms. “You’re the one who was going on about teaching them responsibility and work ethic.”

  “That doesn’t mean they’re going to be your free labor. And while we’re on the topic, they’re not going to be your personal minions in your kitchen either.”

  “Like I really want a bunch of untrained teenagers messing around in my kitchen.”

  They stared each other down.

  Holy moly. It was only the first day. The first two minutes. PJ drew in a lilac-scented breath and let it out slow and easy. “I think we should keep things separate as much as possible. Separate jobs, separate entrances, separate floors.”

  “Fine.”

  Finally they agreed on something. She’d have to find a way to ease into this relationship. It had started badly, but that could be rectified. She was a pro at making friends. She just needed to try harder.

  “The architect will be here at nine thirty. She did work on my sister’s veterinary practice. She’s good and, equally important, not too expensive.”

  “I don’t need an architect.”

  PJ frowned. “What do you mean? Won’t you have to tear down walls and move things? Add a bathroom or two and a kitchen?”

  “I’ll do it myself.”

  “But what if you tear into a load-bearing wall? Or bust a water line?”

  “I know what I’m doing,” he said as he walked away.

  Maybe he wouldn’t be making many changes. The less work for her when she made that space into her B & B.

  He was just going to have to keep his distance, Cole figured. Wouldn’t be easy working in the same house, but if they kept to their own floors it would be fine.

  The upstairs looked even better than it had online. Four bedrooms, most big enough for two; two full baths; a small attic. He could take the attic room for himself, turn one bedroom into a living room and another into the kitchen. Heaven knew Sunshine wouldn’t be sharing hers. That left two bedrooms—enough for four kids. The thought put a bounce in his step. He only had funding for three, but maybe if he budgeted carefully . . . After all, he’d figured on paying the full utility bill, and now he only had to pay half. Plus Lizzy wouldn’t come until April.

  He ran his hands along the uneven plaster walls as he walked down the narrow hall. They needed a coat of paint. The wood floors creaked under his feet, a familiar sound that reminded him of home, his real one. The one he’d had before the accident.

  He checked out the bathrooms. The plumbing was ancient but in decent shape. The bedrooms needed additional electrical outlets, and the whole upstairs was in dire need of decent lighting. The fancy draperies would have to go eventually, but that could wait.

  He was making good progress on his hardware store list when Lizzy called. She didn’t have many friends, but with all the attention she got from the boys, she was a train wreck waiting to happen. Cole was going to do everything in his power to make sure she wasn’t taken advantage of.

  He asked after their foster parents, and they chatted until she had to get off the phone. He told her he loved her before he hung up. Although Becky and Greg told her that often, he knew she needed to hear it a lot. Her father had abandoned her at birth, and her mother was a drug addict who saw her only sporadically. He pocketed his phone and flipped the hall light switch, but nothing happened.

  The stairs creaked behind him. PJ was standing in the middle of the wide staircase, her hand curled around the mahogany banister.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

  He shrugged, trying the light switch again. “How’d it go with the architect?”

  “Good. I’m really excited to see what she comes up with.” PJ trotted up the rest of the steps, her ponytail swinging like a pendulum. “How’s it going up here?”

  “Everything’s pretty sound.” The fewer details she knew, the less she could fuss over.

  “Except the hall light?” Her eyes flickered upward, then back to him, and her smile drew his eyes for a long second.

  “Yeah.” He walked into the nearest room and tried to open the window. He’d need to air the place out when he painted. After a little tugging, the window went up. The old wood sash, weighted with a balance, was nearly painted shut.

  “The downstairs windows are new.” She’d followed him into the room, bringing her sweet flower smell with her. “Too bad she didn’t replace these. They look ancient.”

  “As long as they open, they’ll do for now.” He brushed past her and entered the next room, repeating the process. This window put up more of a fight.

  “Our heating bill is going to be atrocious.” She came up next to him and ran a fingernail along the chipping white paint.

  They were nice hands. Long, slender fingers tapering down to short but well-kept nails. Her skin looked softer than anything he’d touched in a long time.

  “I don’t think she spent much time up here,” PJ said. “Her bedroom was downstairs.”

  “There’s a bedroom downstairs?” Maybe he could fit a couple more kids in. He’d have to get more funding, but—

  “Down, boy. That’s my bedroom.”

  “I thought you already had a house.”

  “A rental, remember? And only through July. Once renovations are complete, I’m moving in.”

  He ran his knuckles over his face. He’d just assumed it would be him and the kids.

  “Don’t worry, it’s big enough for both of us—and a handful of teenagers.” She followed him to the next room. “Hopefully your girlfriend’s understanding.”

  He frowned, then realized she must’ve overheard his parting words to Lizzy and made assumptions. He wasn’t going to correct her. Better she thought him taken.

  For that matter, she probably had a boyfriend of her own. Cole hoped the guy wouldn’t go ballistic at the setup. It wasn’t like they’d be here alone. By the time her renovations were complete, there’d be a houseful of kids.

  “So when are you moving in?” she asked.

  “Today.” After a week in the car he could hardly wait to sprawl out on the floor.

  “Which room you taking?”

  Didn’t she have something better to do than follow him around? “This one for now. The attic after I clean it out.”

  “Oooh, nice. I always wanted an attic room. I never had a room to myself until I rented my house.” She peeked into the closet.

  Since she was otherwise occupied, he checked her out. Her long brown hair was pulled into a sloppy ponytail. Her neck was exposed, and the slope of it made him want to press a kiss where it met with her shoulders.

  What the heck was he thinking?

  His eyes fell on her square shoulders and traveled past her trim waist, down her long legs.

  “Omigosh.” She looked over her shoulder.

  He jerked his eyes back to the window.

  “My jeans alone wouldn’t fit in here.”

  He was sure his kids wouldn’t have that problem.

  “So where you from? I don’t think you ever said.”

  “North of here. Fort Wayne.”

  “Big city compared to Chapel Springs.”

 
; “Yep.”

  She followed him into the next room. The window wouldn’t budge.

  “How’d you hear about the contest?”

  “Ran across it online.”

  “Yeah, I couldn’t believe she was giving this place away. But, hey, when you’ve got more money than Bill Gates . . . Need some help?”

  “I got it.” He used his legs, his arms straining.

  “So you have any siblings?”

  The whole truth was too painful and would only lead to more questions. Especially with Sunshine. “No.”

  “I can’t imagine. I have a brother—you met him—and two sisters. I had another brother, Michael, but he died when he was seventeen.”

  So they had something in common. He glanced over his shoulder as a flicker of sadness passed over her face. He almost mentioned Noelle. Almost. But then PJ’s smile was back in place. He went back to the window.

  “It was hard for all of us, but it was extra hard on Madison. She was his twin, and it took a long time for her to really live again. Michael loved to sail. Bought a boat when he was sixteen instead of a car. He dreamed of being the youngest winner of our annual regatta, but he never got to try—you have to be eighteen.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  PJ shrugged. “Yeah. Well, two years ago Madison got it in her head that she needed to win it for him. She ended up taking sailing lessons from Beckett—he’s her husband now, but there was no love lost between them back then! Anyway, she and Beckett ended up winning the regatta and falling in love all at the same time. It was pretty special. She’s the vet. You have any pets?”

  He moved his hands to the top of the sash and tried again. “Uh, no.”

  “Me neither. I had a fish at college, but he didn’t make it. Always wanted a dog, though. We had animals around the farm, strays that Madison brought home and stuff, but not a family pet. My brother’s allergic to cats, and Mom always said she had enough responsibility. I guess with five kids, she was right. Plus Daniel.”

  “Who’s Daniel?” And why did he want to know?