Blue Ridge Reunion

by Mia Ross

  There was no sign his request had gotten through, but in his experience, the Almighty didn’t respond directly to anything. Grinning, he recalled his mother explaining God’s timing to her impatient six-year-old son, who’d included a puppy in his bedtime prayers for weeks.

  She hadn’t told him to be more patient, just smiled and said, “Have faith, Paul. God does things His own way.”

  On Christmas morning, a floppy mutt of a dog had shown up, sporting a red bow and a collar with a tag that read Chummy. The best present ever, Paul remembered as his father’s extended-cab pickup rumbled through the opening in the trees and pulled into the VIP spot he’d blocked off near the ramp he’d built over the side steps to the front porch.

  Sending a grateful look heavenward, he did his best to appear cool as he sauntered over to greet their new visitors. Resting his arms on the frame of the open passenger window, he teased, “It’s about time y’all got here. We’re almost outta food, y’know.”

  “With Molly in charge?” Gram laughed. “I hardly think so.”

  “She changed clothes three times,” Granddad complained from the backseat. “The way she was fussing, you’d’ve thought we were goin’ to the White House to meet the president.” Rattling the door handle, he grumbled, “Your father locked these doors on me. Get me outta here, would you?”

  “I didn’t want you bolting away from Diane before I had the wheelchair ready,” Dad explained in a patient tone that told Paul he’d already done that a few times. “It’s a big step, and you shouldn’t be trying it on your own.”

  “Wheelchair,” Granddad spat. “I hate that thing.”

  “If you don’t use it, we’re going straight home,” Gram informed him in her sternest voice. “I came to enjoy the party, not worry myself sick about you tripping over something and landing yourself back in the hospital.”

  “What she said,” Paul’s mother chimed in, obviously to drive home the point that he was outnumbered.

  Figuring he could end the debate in about five seconds, Paul reached into the truck bed for the offensive chair and hit the mechanism to open it. Setting it down, he dropped into the seat and pushed it back and forth with his feet. “Comfy. I’ve been here since six, and I’m beat. If you don’t use it, I’m goin’ to.”

  His grandfather blistered him with a long you-don’t-fool-me look, then gave in with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll use it, but I won’t like it.”

  “You sound like me when Chelsea made me buy that stupid computer,” he teased as she joined them. “Even made me learn how to do formulas and stuff.”

  “Which you’re great at, of course. Just like everything else.”

  She added a fond smile, and he was reminded that after today, he wouldn’t be seeing it anymore. Refusing to allow that to cloud this beautiful day, he grinned back. “I had a good teacher.”

  Their gazes met, and he caught something in her eyes he hadn’t noticed before: regret. For the time they’d wasted fighting, for the fears that had kept them at a distance from each other until it was too late. He had a feeling she was seeing the same in him, and he looked away to keep the moment from dragging on too long.

  Today was for celebrating, he reminded himself. He’d start missing her tomorrow.

  With his usual excellent timing, Jason trotted over and greeted the new arrivals. “Glad you could make it, but you missed the fight.”

  “What fight?” Gram demanded.

  “Some dude from the bank got rough with Chelsea, and Paul let him have it.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t like that at all,” she clarified with a chiding look for Jason. “I had a disagreement with one of my father’s employees, and Paul walked him out.”

  Oblivious to her unspoken warning, he grinned. “Yeah, in a headlock. It was awesome.”

  “Don’t you have a log-splitting demonstration to get back to?” Paul snarled.

  “Taking a break.”

  “Break’s over.”

  “Whatever you say, boss. He loves it when we call him that,” Jason told them with a wink before strolling away.

  “Actually, I hate it, but he insists on doing it anyway.”

  He’d intended the remark to lighten the grim look on his grandmother’s face, but judging by the deepening lines around her mouth, he’d missed the mark.

  “Did you really put one of your guests in a headlock?” she demanded.

  “No, I used a double arm bar, and it did the job. Didn’t even scratch the fancy gold watch he was wearing.”

  Granddad looked satisfied, but Gram shook her head in softhearted disapproval. “I thought you boys had learned to solve problems without getting physical.”

  “He tried to, Olivia,” Chelsea said, “but Alex wouldn’t listen to either of us. He started getting unruly, and it was time for him to leave. Paul didn’t hurt him, I promise. Now, what would you like to see first?”

  Gram hesitated, then apparently realized the matter had been resolved long before she’d arrived, and there was no point in rehashing it now. Beaming, she linked arms with Chelsea. “Everything.”

  Looking like lifelong best friends, the two of them went ahead with his parents in tow. Paul muscled the wheelchair up the ramp onto the porch, and to his surprise, Granddad held up a hand for him to stop.

  Concerned he might have overdone it, Paul asked, “Going too fast?”

  “Just gimme a minute.” Pausing, he looked over the yard and surrounding trees, then out toward the sparkling creek. Taking a deep breath, he twisted in his seat to look back at Paul. Gratitude shone in his eyes, and he murmured, “When I was lying in that hospital, I thought I’d never see this place up and running again, full of people like this. Thank you.”

  Those simple, heartfelt words sent a sudden rush of emotions crashing over Paul, threatening to sweep him away. All along, he’d been doing this for his grandfather, the man who’d walked in the woods with him, teaching him how to identify different species and what they were best used for. The one who’d given him his first pocketknife and praised his early whittling efforts, even when no one could tell what he’d meant to carve.

  Today the resurrected mill held a special significance for Paul. He’d succeeded in time for Granddad to share in what he’d accomplished. Even cancer wasn’t strong enough to conquer his spirit, but every time Paul looked, a little more of him had slipped away. He knew he’d done everything in his power to make his grandfather’s last few months as happy as possible, but he wasn’t ready to let him go just yet.

  Fighting to keep those intense feelings at bay, he forced a smile. “You’re welcome. Ready to go inside?”

  “I guess we better. Hank tells me you’ve messed up the works something awful, and I need to straighten things out.”

  Thanks to the grumpy foreman, they were both laughing when they entered the lobby. Admiring the new collection of photos in the seating area, Chelsea was jotting down notes while Gram gave her the history of each one.

  When she noticed Paul, his grandmother said, “Don’t my cushions and curtains look nice in here?”

  “They sure do, and they’re comfy besides. Fell asleep there just this morning.”

  She rewarded him with a delighted smile, and Paul’s mind drifted back to when he’d scolded Chelsea for pestering Gram with a sewing project. He’d assumed more work was the last thing she needed, but Chelsea had known better. The smug look on her face told him her mind was moving along the same lines, and he decided to give her this one. “Okay, you were right.”

  “About what?” Gram asked while she handed Granddad a small plate of Molly’s famous molasses cookies.

  They were still staring at each other, and he felt himself being drawn into the depths of those incredible green eyes. He’d been fighting that pull since the day she’d shown up at the mill, and finally he’d lost his strength for it. Giving up with a wry grin, he replied, “Everything.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted in a subtle gesture of victory, and she arched one brow in the pose that us
ed to drive him nuts. Now he realized it was part of the package that made her who she was. Along with the dazzling smiles, sharp wit and unpredictable temper. She was all those things, and so many more he couldn’t even begin to count.

  And she was leaving tomorrow. If only he’d started listening to his heart sooner, he would’ve known that somewhere along the way, he’d fallen hard for Chelsea Lynn Barnes. His equal in every conceivable way, she was nothing he’d ever wanted but everything he needed in his life. Caring and generous, she’d found her way back to the faith that was so important to them both, and he could easily imagine being happily married to her until the day they put him in the ground.

  Sadly, he had only one thing to offer her: himself. And for the first time in his life, he didn’t think that was enough.

  Chapter Ten

  “I wish you didn’t have to go,” Brenda all but sobbed after church the following morning. Wrapping Chelsea in a fierce hug, she withdrew to arm’s length but held on tight. “We should’ve been friends all along, but I’m so glad we finally got to know each other. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

  “I won’t,” she promised, her own eyes welling with unexpected tears.

  It had been like that since she’d arrived and had gone on even through Pastor Griggs’s touching sermon about people keeping absent loved ones close in their hearts. Everyone from the Donaldsons to the Harknesses had stopped to say goodbye, giving her wistful looks as they made their way to their seats.

  There was no denying it, Chelsea thought as she walked out with Paul and his family. The kind, down-to-earth people in Barrett’s Mill were going to miss her. It was a stark contrast to the coworkers and supposed friends she had in Roanoke. She’d been gone most of the summer, but none of them had contacted her. No phone calls or texts, not even an email beyond business-related questions.

  Of course, she hadn’t bothered to keep in touch with them, either. On the rare occasions she’d felt guilty for neglecting them, she’d told herself she needed to focus on the task her father had set for her. The truth was, she’d been so happily occupied out here in the Blue Ridge valley, she hadn’t given her real life a second thought. Now that she was on her way back to it—and not all that anxious to get there—she was wondering if her temporary amnesia meant something.

  Shaking off the thought, she dragged herself back to the present as they pulled into Will and Olivia’s driveway. “I’m sorry Will’s not feeling well. Was yesterday too much for him?”

  “Yeah, but he’ll never admit it,” Paul replied in a fond tone. “Gram’s pretty beat, too, but they asked me to bring you by before you leave.”

  They’d been so wonderful to her, Chelsea dreaded saying goodbye to them. Considering his rapidly deteriorating health, she knew it might be the last time she saw Will. The realization made her want to weep, but she forced a smile. “Not a problem.”

  Paul offered his hand to help her down from the cab, stopping to stare at their joined hands. He looked as though he wanted to say something, then seemed to change his mind. But he didn’t release her, and Chelsea was surprised to find she didn’t want him to.

  Inside, Olivia was reading the newspaper to her dozing husband. When she saw them, she traded worried looks with Paul but in a chipper voice said, “Good morning, you two. How was church?”

  “One of Pastor Griggs’s best sermons,” Chelsea answered. “He’s planning to stop by later so you can hear it for yourself.”

  The sound of their voices roused Will, and he squinted over at them with a faint version of his usual welcoming smile. “I’m glad you came by so I could thank you again for your help restoring the mill. Paul says he couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “We make a good team,” she agreed.

  “I told Paul you would,” Olivia boasted with a quiet laugh. “He didn’t believe me then, but I think he does now.”

  Her grandson groaned. “Go ahead. Rub it in.”

  Since they obviously weren’t feeling 100 percent, Chelsea decided it was best to keep the farewells short. Olivia embraced her warmly, just long enough to set Chelsea’s emotions bubbling near the surface again. After promising to keep in touch, she retreated back to the relative safety of Paul’s truck. He didn’t say anything as he drove to the Donaldsons’, and she appreciated him giving her time to regain her composure. Ten years ago, she’d happily left Barrett’s Mill in her rearview mirror. Today it was the last thing she wanted to do.

  When they reached the carriage house, something wasn’t right. It took her a minute to determine what it was, but when she did, she turned to him with a sigh. “Paul, where’s my car?”

  “Someone must’ve jacked it while we were at church. And on a Sunday, too. What’s this world coming to?” He scowled, but the glimmer in his eyes gave him away.

  “All my stuff is packed in there,” she reminded him, although he knew that perfectly well.

  Continuing the charade, he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Guess we better call the sheriff. Course, with it being Sunday and all, it might take someone a while to get here.”

  Shifting to face him, she rested a hand on his arm. “If you don’t want me to go, just say so.”

  He paused a moment, then said, “I don’t want you to go.”

  He looked down like a miserable little boy, and she couldn’t help reaching a hand to his cheek. When he met her gaze, she gave him a smile that held all the things she felt for him. There were so many—respect, admiration, exasperation. But there was one that trumped them all. “I love you, Paul.”

  Joy flooded his features, and he gathered her into his arms for a long, delicious kiss. Into her ear, he murmured the most amazing words she’d ever heard. “I love you, too. I knew it after the reunion.”

  Astonished by his confession, she couldn’t resist teasing him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t know how,” he said with a sheepish look.

  “But you’ll arrange for Fred to sneak off with my car to keep me in town? That makes no sense at all.” Grasping his face in her hands, she gave it a gentle shake. “I...love...you. How hard is that?”

  “For me, it’s always been impossible. Until you.”

  The adoration shining in his eyes made her heart skip with joy. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

  “Back at ya.”

  “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

  Chuckling, he dropped a kiss on top of her head and rested his cheek in her hair. “Yeah, we are.”

  And there in the cab of his ratty old truck, Chelsea made the most important decision of her life. She wasn’t going back to Roanoke—she was staying in Barrett’s Mill.

  With Paul.

  Epilogue

  “And I promise,” Paul finished his personalized wedding vows, “to always listen to your ideas. No matter how kooky I think they are.”

  Their guests laughed, and Chelsea couldn’t help smiling at the mischievous glint in his eyes. He’d winged his speech, of course, and it was perfect. She’d worked on hers for days, and while it was a touching tribute to the man who’d become her best friend, it wasn’t anywhere near as good as his.

  Then again, she thought as they sealed their vows with a long kiss, it didn’t matter. They were a team now, until death did them part. These days, that was more than enough for her. Not that she’d ever tell him that, of course.

  “Oh, I just love weddings,” Brenda gushed to Chelsea while they posed for one of Molly’s semicandid pictures of the bride and her very enthusiastic matron of honor. “Don’t you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Especially since she’d traded her usual bridesmaid dress for a gorgeous white gown, she added silently. And because she knew Paul meant every word of his promise to respect her and her ideas. That was love, she now understood. Letting the other person be who they were, accepting every part of them, quirks and all.

  When Molly moved on, Paul appeared behind Chelsea and slid his arms around her waist. Nosing aside h
er fingertip veil, he kissed her cheek. “Happy, Mrs. Barrett?”

  Nodding, she leaned back into him and sighed. “You?”

  “Very. Except I still think everyone’s trying to figure out how a goof like me landed such a classy wife.”

  Laughing, she spun in his arms to face him. “And I’m sure they can’t imagine how you can stand a control freak like me for more than ten minutes.”

  “Probably.” She gasped, and he eased the teasing with a quick kiss. When he saw something in the distance, he laughed. “I think my aunt Gigi’s got her eye on your dad. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “She’d be great for him.” A nurse wired with the sunniest disposition Chelsea had ever encountered, Gigi was just what her father needed in his life. “He works seven days a week and goes home to that empty town house of his every single night. That’s no way to live.”

  “Speaking of which, what’d Hank and Lila hand you earlier?”

  “Their wedding gift. Two months free at the carriage house, so we don’t have to scramble to find a house right away.”

  “That works for me, since Jason’s at Gram and Granddad’s now,” he approved. “You sure it’s big enough for us to share? I mean, I’ve got Boyd and a duffel bag, so I’m good. But you have Daisy and all that girl stuff.”

  “My condo was furnished, so all I have are clothes.”

  “Yeah? How many pairs of shoes do you own?” She gave him a mock glare, and he laughed. “Tell you what. You keep me on the straight and narrow, I’ll make sure you have a little fun once in a while. How does that sound?”

  “Challenging. And wonderful.”

  Smiling because she had no desire to stop, she kissed him as Will and Olivia came over to join them. Will had resigned himself to his new motorized wheelchair, learning to use it so the family could relax and enjoy their wedding.

  With a daisy boutonniere pinned to the lapel of his navy suit, he beamed at them both. “I can’t tell you how pleased we both are that you wanted to be married here.”