by Janice Lynn
“What? Listen, man, if you need money—”
“This isn’t about money.” He’d been in the military since he was eighteen and the Army had covered almost all his expenses. His salary had been auto-deposited, and the money in the account had done nothing but grow over the years, especially thanks to bonuses with each active combat deployment, and his minimalist living. It wasn’t as if he’d had a lot of opportunity to spend where he’d often been.
“Speaking of money, Kelly found what you left on the coffee table. You shouldn’t have.”
“Room and board for the past few months. No big deal.” Scratching Harry, Bodie shrugged, despite the fact that his friend couldn’t see him.
“You didn’t need to do that. iSecure is doing great and even if it wasn’t, you’re always welcome here. You know that.”
“Yeah, well, put it toward the kid’s college fund.” Kelly was due to deliver their first child in a couple of months. Which was the main reason Bodie had headed out that morning. He’d been going to Texas so the couple could have some time to themselves them before their baby arrived.
“A gift from Uncle Bodie?”
Bodie heard a chair squeak and could picture his friend sitting at his desk. Lukas had transitioned into civilian life without issues. Bodie was glad, and hoped he’d be able to find the same sense of peace in the civilian world. At iSecure, he’d start with smaller jobs, mostly guarding celebrities or politicians, as he continued to recover. When Lukas felt he was ready, he’d move to the more secretive jobs the company didn’t advertise. Governments and the mega-wealthy came to them seeking their services for high-risk situations. Bodie could do babysitting bodyguard jobs while he honed his body back to full capacity and placated Lukas. What a joke, when his friend knew the things he’d done and was capable of.
“On the reference you’re needing, this an undercover job?”
Since he hadn’t told Sarah why he was there in case she refused his help under those circumstances, he supposed he was undercover.
“Yes.” His tone warned Lukas not to push. He’d rather his friend not know he’d gone soft and was helping Sarah because she’d once made him a quilt. Lukas had already teased him about the quilt having super healing powers as his friend had witnessed the change in Bodie after its arrival.
Maybe the quilt did have something special in its stitches. Beneath the fabric, he’d felt comfort. No, that wasn’t right. He’d felt the need to do something, to be something. For the first time since his injury, he’d felt he had a reason to heal, spurred by the idea that there was something out there waiting on him.
Seeing the quilt, he’d had flashbacks to when he’d been five years old and taken his only out-of-state trip with his mother. He’d stared out the window in awe at picturesque barns with painted quilts on them surrounded by lush green fields as she’d driven them through Georgia for his grandmother’s funeral. They’d packed a few of his grandmother’s belongings to bring back to Texas, including a raggedy old quilt that Bodie had slept beneath on the drive and countless times thereafter.
Touching the quilt from Sarah had taken him back to when, wrapped in that tattered quilt, he’d watched old war movies while downing a bowl of cereal and dreaming of being a soldier to fight for justice for all.
Sarah’s quilt had reminded him of who he’d been, of who he’d wanted to be, and why he’d needed to quit wallowing in gloom.
Like a magic cloak, he’d wrapped it around him to ward off darkness and it had worked.
“Fine,” Lukas agreed, interrupting Bodie’s trip down memory lane. “You got it. You know there’s no one I’d trust more. How’s my dog?”
“You mean my dog, and he’s good.”
Lukas laughed. “A good traitor. Must have sensed our family was expanding yet again and decided he wanted to keep to the bachelor life.”
“Must have.” Bodie scratched Harry’s scruff while the dog looked up at him with his one blue eye and one green eye. Harry’s expression was one of pure adoration.
Bodie had owned pets over the years, but he’d never had a dog as smart or as loyal as Harry. From the moment he’d arrived at Lukas and Kelly’s place, Harry had taken to him so intently it was impossible not to notice the dog’s attachment. Sarah’s gift had helped him to push through the physical and emotional pain and refocus on why he’d done the things he had. But he hadn’t been ready for a dog to want his attention and affection twenty-four seven. Harry hadn’t cared if he was ready or not. If Bodie wasn’t gone for his physical therapy, or to a doctor’s appointment, the dog refused to leave his side.
Lukas had insisted Harry go with him when Bodie left that morning, stating he’d gladly take the dog for extended visits when Bodie left on iSecure jobs so the dog didn’t have to be boarded.
Bodie talked with Lukas a few more minutes, then dialed his stepfather.
Leaning his head back against the truck’s headrest, he scratched Harry’s neck.
“Thought you planned to go back to high-stakes, behind-the-scenes adventures,” his stepfather mused after Bodie explained his new plans. “You know, if you want to do this handyman kind of thing, I’ll hire you in a heartbeat. You were the best help I ever had. Your mother wasn’t the only one who was disappointed when you joined the military. I’d always hoped you’d join me.”
His stepfather was a good man and had taught Bodie everything he could to prepare him for life from the time Bodie had met him at age ten. Bodie had been lucky in that regard. Steve had treated him well, like his own son. Thanks to the man’s patience and guiding hand to a kid whose real father had long since stepped out of the picture, there wasn’t much Bodie couldn’t do around a house.
“I’ll keep it in mind, Steve. I appreciate the offer and the reference.”
Hanging up the phone, he glanced down at Harry.
“Now what?” he asked the dog, who just cocked his head as if to say, You tell me.
He punched the address Sarah had given him into his phone’s map app. She lived less than ten minutes away, which meant he had a couple of hours to kill.
For now, he and Harry needed sustenance and time out of the truck cab.
Thinking back over what he’d passed on his drive into town, he recalled a diner with several cars out front and wondered if they were pet-friendly.
It occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten since early that morning during one of many pitstops made to stretch the stiffness out of his hip and leg from the long drive. He hated having to take such mundane things into consideration, but he’d do whatever was necessary to heal back into tip-top shape.
He’d been told by multiple health professionals that had he not been in such good physical condition, he’d never have survived the IED.
There had been a time when he wished he hadn’t survived.
He glanced over at the folded patriotic quilt sitting on top of a duffel bag in his passenger floorboard and was reminded of exactly why he was in Pine Hill.
Sarah had meant to get to Hamilton House and straighten up any extra mess before her new handyman arrived. No such luck. It had taken longer to clean the church community room from their Christmas crafting than she’d intended, which was why she was feeling anxious as she drove the short distance home.
Her nervousness had nothing to do with the man she was meeting.
Just that she was running late and keeping an eye on her speedometer to make sure she kept it at the speed limit. Silly Donnie Jones had written her a ticket last week.
When she got to Hamilton House’s driveway, a late-model pickup she didn’t recognize was already there. She pulled up beside it and saw the cab was empty.
She looked around and spotted Bodie in her yard. What was he doing? Surprised, she realized he was petting a black and white speckled dog.
“Sorry I’m late,” Sarah apologized as she got out of the car, putting on her hat
and scarf as she eyed the unfamiliar animal. He looked like a Blue Heeler mix, but she’d never been great on telling one breed from another. Where had he come from? He looked friendly enough and seemed to be eating up the attention Bodie was giving him, but who knew what the forty-or-so-pound dog was capable of?
“Be careful. That’s not my dog. I’ve never seen him before,” she warned, pulling her jacket tighter around her to block the chilly wind as she walked toward Bodie.
Straightening, Bodie stuck his hands in his jean pockets. “Harry’s mine.”
As if to second the notion, the dog, Harry, ruffed and took a sitting-but-on-guard post at Bodie’s feet, watching Sarah’s every move as she stepped closer.
As she approached, using caution in case the dog decided he didn’t like her getting near, Sarah’s eyes widened. “You have a dog?”
“I have a dog. You sound as if you thought I’d be more likely to have a dragon or something.” He reached down to scratch the dog’s head again.
The dog watched her with great curiosity, as if trying to decide if she were friend or foe, and waiting for his owner to clue him in.
Heat infused her cheeks at her rudeness. “Sorry. You just didn’t come across as a dog person.”
Harry licked Bodie’s fingers in appreciation of the scratch.
“No? What type of person did I come across as?” Flecks in his eyes caught the light, almost giving the impression he was teasing her.
“Surely not as a cat person,” he continued, his lips edging upward ever so slightly.
“No,” she assured, thinking for a second Bodie was going to smile.
Hoping he was going to smile.
Come on, she wanted to encourage. Smile for me.
Which made no sense.
It did not matter to her whether he smiled or not. He was here for a job. Not a friendship.
Then again, didn’t she pride herself on being friendly to everyone? If Bodie was going to work at Hamilton House, of course she’d want to be friends.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with cats,” he continued, his blue eyes still looking a bit mischievous. “I grew up with a houseful. But since meeting Harry, I’ve discovered I’m a dog guy.”
Harry nudged up against him as if to say that he was a Bodie Lewis kind of dog. The love the animal had for his owner was obvious, and had Sarah softening even if Bodie hadn’t smiled. Animals were good judges of character, right? Maybe Sarah’s first impression had been all wrong. After all, anyone who had a dog had to smile from time to time. How could they not?
“May I?” She looked to Bodie for permission to pet Harry.
Interestingly, the dog seemed to also be waiting for Bodie’s permission as he cocked his head and looked expectantly up at his owner.
Having witnessed Bodie’s nod of approval, Harry was happy for more attention and hunkered into a somewhat submissive position. He rolled onto his back so Sarah could scratch his belly, then back onto his feet to nudge her hand with his nose.
Laughing at the dog’s antics, she glanced up at Bodie. “I’ll admit, I didn’t see you as a pet person, in general, but I can see how Harry would win a person over.”
Hands back in his jean’s pockets, he eyed her petting Harry. “You just met me, so I’m not sure what to say to that.”
True enough. She didn’t know what to say to that, either.
Knowing she’d stuck her foot in her mouth enough for one conversation, she gave Harry one last stroke behind his ears, then straightened and gestured toward the house. “You want to come inside and see what needs to be done? Or do you want to see the outside of the house first?”
He glanced toward the house. “I took the liberty of walking around and inspecting the outside while I was waiting. It’s in good shape, overall. Looks like you recently had it repainted. The trim work is great, especially around the porch. There are a few places that need to be touched up that were missed and a piece of damaged wood that, although covered with fresh paint, really needs replaced to keep in line with the rest of the woodwork. Otherwise, not bad on the outside. It’s a beautiful place.”
Sarah knew exactly the piece of trim he meant and those missed paint places had driven her crazy. Although they’d done a great job overall, she’d mentioned the spots to the painters several times, but they’d never come back to correct the areas. That Bodie had noticed impressed her. At first glance, the paint job looked good, but she wanted Hamilton House perfect.
Perfection was impossible with a house that was over a hundred years old. She knew this. But still, how much more work would it have been for the painters to have replaced the damaged trim piece rather than to just slap a couple coats of paint onto it? Especially when she’d been willing to pay to have it made right?
Bodie asked, “You’ve had someone inspect the foundation?”
“Structurally, the house is sound.” Or so said the architect she’d consulted prior to her embarking on her dream of turning Hamilton House into a B & B. The gentleman was a local, a friend of her father’s, and hadn’t charged her a penny even though she’d tried to pay him.
She’d needed all the help she could get since she didn’t know anything about foundations, architecture, electrical wiring, or plumbing. She just knew she loved this house, had loved visiting her aunt Jean every afternoon when she’d gotten out of school and staying with her during summer breaks while her father was at work. Aunt Jean had taught her so many things—how to cook, to sew, to quilt—and had encouraged her love of reading, her love of serving others.
Oh, how she missed Aunt Jean.
“I’ve gotten a lot done over the past year, including an unbelievable amount of paperwork to make sure I have all the right permits and licenses. I’ve been able to do that end of things myself. On the physical repairs, I’ve worked on what I can, but it needs a lot more. Much more than I can afford to give, really.” The sooner she got it up and running, the better. “My goal is to have the downstairs looking sharp by Christmas, which will be”—hopefully, and depending upon him—“the grand opening of Hamilton House Bed and Breakfast.”
She loved saying the name out loud. It made her dream seem more real. Aunt Jean’s dream.
“As the bed and breakfast takes off, I’ll do renovations to the upstairs rooms and get them rent-ready.”
Renovations that would include replacing furniture her aunt had sold off over the years for financial reasons. Sarah had found a ledger in which her aunt had kept records of each piece and who she’d sold it to. An antique store in Louisville had purchased most of the pieces initially, but over the last few years her aunt had sold only to an entry marked as “B.”
Sarah’s heart ached at the permanent loss of the lovely antique pieces her aunt had once owned. Antiques Sarah had treasured and that had been a part of her childhood. Pretending she was mistress of the house, she would go from room to room imagining that she was hosting elaborate dinner parties and balls. She could vividly recall the grandeur of each room—the lavish decor, the tapestries on the walls, the rich woods of the sturdy furniture.
Once upon a time, Hamilton House, as she’d dubbed it as a child, had been a gorgeous home that could’ve been snatched straight out of a movie. Unfortunately, Roy Hamilton had gone to serve in the Vietnam War and had never come back. He’d left his teen bride in his family home with his elderly parents, a well-to-do couple who’d lived with Aunt Jean until their passing. He’d left his young widow well-off financially by 1960s standards, to the point where she’d never had to work. But neither one of them could have predicted the twists and turns of the financial market, or how that would impact Jean’s situation. As the years had passed, so had the money, apparently.
Sarah hadn’t known about her aunt’s poor finances in her latter days. How could she have, when it had been years since she’d had reason to go into any of the four second-level bedrooms while visi
ting her aunt? She’d had no idea her aunt had been emptying one room after another, each slowly stripped of its treasures. How it must have pained Aunt Jean to let each piece go. If Sarah had known, she’d have taken on another job or moved in and paid rent.
Something. Anything.
“The roof looks new, too,” Bodie said, calling Sarah’s attention back to him.
“I replaced it this past spring.” It was the first thing she’d done after getting her loan. “As a matter of necessity. Apparently, there had been a slow leak for years.” The memory had her stomach dropping. That the wood beneath the roof was so rotted had been a big blow. “There was so much damage that they had to rip out and replace a section of beams and wood in the attic ceiling, too.”
She glanced up at the new roof that topped the mint-green house with its intricate white trim work.
“Fortunately, the interior damage from the leak was limited to a section in the attic.”
She’d had to toss a few boxes of old books, receipts, and papers that had been water-damaged. Someday, Sarah planned to go through the remaining boxes and trunks in the attic in hopes of finding things that had belonged to Aunt Jean or to Sarah’s grandparents. Once she got the downstairs restored to its former glory and Hamilton House was up and running, then she’d make time for going through taped-up boxes with layers of dust on top.
Sarah pointed to the porch that wrapped around one side of the house. “You ready to have a look inside? There’s a lot to be done before I open up the house to visitors.”
They made their way up the porch, Harry at Bodie’s side.
“If you don’t think he’ll bother anything, Harry can come in,” she offered. It was chilly outside, and Harry was so well-behaved, she couldn’t imagine him causing trouble.
Bodie nodded. “He can wait inside the door.” After they followed Sarah inside, he paused and looked at the dog. “Stay.”