by Janice Lynn
“When I mentioned our visitor, Lou told me he’d met him in the diner,” Rosie said. “He said he seemed like a nice enough fella, but didn’t stay long, just ate and left.”
“Lou figured he didn’t stick around because he had a dog with him that stayed in his truck while he was in the diner,” Ruby added.
“Harry,” Sarah filled in. At their confused looks, she clarified, “The dog. His name is Harry. Smartest dog I’ve ever met.”
“Okay, so Harry was in the truck.” Rosie looked at Sarah with a touch of annoyance that she’d interrupted for such a trivial detail. “Anyway, I had Lou pull up his security footage because I wanted another look, just wanting to make sure I didn’t see anything suspicious about your new handyman, of course.”
“Of course,” the other three women and Sarah said at the same time, causing all to chuckle.
“Mighty generous of you taking it upon yourself to check Mr. Lewis out further for our Sarah,” Maybelle contributed with her usual bit of sass.
“Without me, you wouldn’t have gotten to ask Sherriff Roscoe to run his tags, now would you?” Rosie pointed out to her friend, then patted her well-coiffed blue hair. “Now, where was I? Oh yes. Lou’s been after me for years. When I mentioned I was worried about you because of this newcomer, he mentioned his cameras. He appreciated the opportunity to do something nice for me. Some people do, you know.”
“We know,” they all said in unison, eliciting a round of giggles that better befitted teens than senior citizens.
“I took a picture of Lou’s video footage and sent it to the others, so they’d know I was doing my part to keep you safe.”
“Sarah didn’t need a play by play.” Maybelle’s eyes went heavenward again. “After that, I zoomed in on the picture Rosie sent, cropped his tag, and texted my photo to the sheriff.”
Maybelle’s tone brooked no argument on the fact that she’d been well within her rights to do so.
“And to think, I taught you how to use a smartphone,” Sarah mused, secretly impressed by the women’s sleuth work. Sometimes she wondered if the Butterflies were some former secret society in days gone past.
“That was a useful class you put on,” Claudia praised. “Now I can text with my grandkids and wow them with my emoji-sending abilities. It was one of the best classes you’ve ever put on in the community room.”
“You really should consider annual update courses,” Rosie added, pulling her phone out and clicking on her camera. She had it in reverse camera mode. It was a distinct possibility that, other than the rare spying photo, Rosie’s phone was permanently set that way. “It took me forever to figure out how to add gifs to my messages.”
“Didn’t take her near as long to figure out how to Photoshop twenty years off her selfies,” Maybelle added drily, pulling a snowflake out and putting it in the “needs work” stack. “One click of a button and wrinkles be gone! Of course, so is her nose since it takes so much blurring.”
Rosie’s mouth dropped open and she tossed an ornament at Maybelle, who just chuckled and added it to her “needs work” pile.
“I do not blur my nose out of photos, Maybelle Kirby,” Rosie denied with great indignation, then smiled sweetly as she added, “I understand how you could miss it, though, being as it’s not nearly as big as the one on your face.”
Staring at them, Sarah slowly shook her head. “I don’t know why I thought any of you could be trusted with advanced technology.”
Poor Bodie. He had no clue what he’d gotten himself into when he’d agreed to work at Hamilton House.
“His references checked out and I hired him.”
From the moment she’d watched him with Harry, she’d liked him. There was an inherent honesty about Bodie. Yes, he had a dark cloud hanging over his head that said back off, but just as visible was a sense of honor and morals. She’d barely met him, and yet she trusted him.
“Aren’t you curious what the sheriff found out?” Maybelle tempted, the twinkle in her eye saying she knew something Sarah didn’t.
“You already told me he wasn’t a serial killer,” Sarah reminded, feeling a little guilty that they’d essentially done a background check on Bodie. Still, she supposed since he was a stranger to Pine Hill, she understood why the women had. Despite her gut instinct that told her he was a decent person, she should have requested one herself.
She wouldn’t tell the spying queens, but knowing they’d checked Bodie out made her feel less silly for immediately taking him at his word. He’d come across as someone who was dependable, and who lived by high ethics. Time would tell.
“Sheriff Roscoe says he’s clean,” Maybelle continued in her deadpan voice, letting Sarah know a punch line was about to come.
She wasn’t disappointed.
“Not even a speeding ticket on his record.”
Sarah fought sticking her tongue out at Maybelle. She was way too old to do so, but sometimes, the Butterflies made her feel as if she were back in grade school, hanging with Aunt Jean and them as they worked on some project. They’d always included her, always treated her as if she belonged to them all rather than just Aunt Jean.
“If that was a jab at me,” Sarah said, ignoring the laughter in Maybelle’s eyes, “You should know that I was running late to meet with the school board about our back-to-school backpack program and wasn’t driving that fast.”
She’d only been going four miles over the speed limit and there hadn’t been another car on the road for miles, for goodness’ sake. She’d barely crossed into the lowered speed zone when the blue lights came on.
“Donnie should have given me a warning, not an actual ticket.”
“He gave you a warning the time before,” Claudia reminded in her most grandmotherly tone.
Sarah wrinkled her nose. Well, yeah, there was that time last month when she’d been going a whole two miles over the posted speed limit when Donnie had gotten blue-light happy, too.
“Well, it’s good to know Bodie hasn’t run into Donnie since he’s been in town,” she pointed out, then gestured to their ornaments. “That’s the last of these. Ready to cut out more snowflakes before it’s time to deliver meals to shut-ins?”
There were lots of little odds and ends needing addressed or touching up, but Bodie had decided to start with the first bedroom Sarah had shown him. It was the bigger of the two downstairs rooms she wanted done and had been her aunt’s. The other had belonged to her aunt’s in-laws.
Sarah had told Bodie he could go anywhere in the house and Harry could come inside if he kept an eye on him. No worries on that account. If he moved, Harry moved. The dog apparently thought Bodie couldn’t inspect the house unless he accompanied him.
Still feeling as if he didn’t belong inside the sprawling old mansion, Bodie pushed the uneasiness aside by focusing on his work. He did a full check starting at the bottom by crawling under the floor space. After making sure to clean off any stray dirt, he then checked the attic to identify any problems Sarah might be unaware of before heading downstairs.
One by one, he inspected the rooms, making written notes.
When he’d gone through the door to the room where Sarah slept, his throat had tightened.
With its sunny yellow walls and intricate blue and yellow quilt covering a full-sized bed, the room fit Sarah. Next to her bed was a walnut nightstand with a well-read Bible and lamp on it. There was a matching walnut wardrobe and dresser. But what drew him was across from Sarah’s bed.
He walked over to the table where the antiquated sewing machine was set up and ran his finger over the sleek line of the black and gold machine. The quilting in Sarah’s creation had been done by hand, but most likely she’d sewn the quilt top pieces together while sitting here.
Even now, with everything she had going on, there were sewn pieces of fabric neatly stacked in a basket where she worked on a new quilt top.
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Red, white, and blue fabric.
She was making another Quilt of Valor, a precious gift to another soldier. Would that recipient appreciate Sarah’s generosity the way Bodie had? Would this quilt offer hope the way his had to him?
Would that person go from the bleakest black to seeing a flicker of light as he or she read the note Sarah would no doubt attach to the quilt?
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.
He shouldn’t be here. Not in Sarah’s room. Not in Hamilton House. Not in Pine Hill. He didn’t belong.
But he would do this, would make the repairs for Sarah, would pretend he fit into her shiny world when he’d only ever belonged as an Army Ranger serving his country in a desert half a world away.
When the repairs were done, he’d move on, having repaid her kindness. She need never know why he’d come to Pine Hill or why he’d been willing to linger in the town she’d painted so vividly in his mind but that made him starkly aware of how much he was an outsider.
She’d told him to go wherever, but being here, in her private space, in the room where she’d likely made his quilt, felt wrong. He exited the room, closing the door behind him even though she’d left it open that morning. He didn’t want to see into her room when he walked down the hallway.
Bodie continued his inspection, taking measurements and making notes. When finished, he sat down at Sarah’s kitchen island with a pen and paper and began making lists. He was still sitting there working when Harry’s ears perked up at about the same time as Bodie heard a car in the driveway.
Barking, Harry took off toward the noise. He sounded ferocious, but the second he reached the front door and realized it was Sarah, the dog quieted.
“Bodie?” Sarah called from the foyer. “Hey, boy,” she baby-talked his dog. “Yes, I know you want this, but this is lunch for Bodie and me. Next time I’ll bring something for you, too.”
“In here,” he called, glancing toward his wrist. He was surprised at how much time had passed—and even more surprised that Sarah had brought him food.
“Oh,” she gasped when she stepped into the kitchen, bags in hand, and caught sight of him sitting at the bar. “I didn’t realize you were in here.”
He stood up from the barstool and reached to take some of her bags. “Let me help you.”
“Thanks,” she said, placing the remaining bags next to the legal pad he’d been scribbling on. “I wasn’t sure if you’d brought anything for lunch, or if you planned to go get something, or what. When I picked up my lunch from Lou’s, he sent some for you, too.”
Whatever was in the sack was making his stomach rumble with the same hungry longing he saw in Harry’s eyes.
He’d eaten at Lou’s twice the day before and had met the owner. Nice guy—mid-sixties to maybe seventy. Crinkled eyes and forehead; calloused, scarred hands that implied he’d worked hard his entire life; and a friendly hello to everyone who came into his restaurant.
“Why would he do that?” The man had been nice enough, but restaurant owners didn’t usually give away their wares to strangers.
As she was pulling items from the bag, Sarah looked at him and she shrugged. “I think he felt guilty.”
Bodie frowned. His lunch and his dinner the night before had been excellent. What did the guy have to feel guilty about?
“Why?” Had the man felt bad that he had a “no animals inside the restaurant” policy? It hadn’t been that big of a deal. Lots of places didn’t allow pets.
Sarah tilted her head and gave a little shrug as she continued to pull items from her bag. “Let’s just say Lou may or may not have played a role in a background check being run on you.”
Bodie’s brows rose. “Why would a restaurant owner run a background check on me?” He’d paid with cash, but even if he’d paid with a credit card, not that he had one, that would’ve been a bit excessive.
Not that anyone would find anything problematic. He’d done some nasty jobs, but everything he’d done had come from official orders and he had a pristine service record. He’d been a good soldier.
“Don’t be upset,” Sarah urged, pausing in what she was doing to give him a pleading look. “Lou was watching out for me.” She paused, then started over. “Well, he might have been trying to win points with Rosie, too.” Sarah gave an indulgent smile at the woman’s name. “To hear her tell it, that was his motivation, anyway. Regardless, Lou’s intentions weren’t bad.”
Still confused but not wanting to make a big deal out of it, Bodie shrugged. “No problem. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
Except a quilt he’d folded and packed away inside the large duffel bag in his truck so Sarah wouldn’t see it.
“That’s what I was told,” she admitted, walking over to remove two glasses from a cabinet and flashing another smile that added a sparkle to her eyes. “Water?”
Quietly wondering if anyone had ever been blinded by the dazzle in a smile, Bodie nodded.
When she’d poured them both glasses, she put one of them in front of him and the other in front of a stool one place down from his. Having given him a burger and a box of fries, she sat down and unwrapped her own burger.
“I hear you’re so squeaky-clean that you’ve never even had a speeding ticket,” she said before taking a generous bite. “Mmmm, this is good.”
It was true—he didn’t have any traffic tickets. Possibly because since he’d turned eighteen, he hadn’t been in the country for more than a week or two at a time until earlier this year. And even then, it had been months before he’d been released to drive.
Fighting the heaviness that settled onto his shoulders at the memory of why he’d returned stateside, Bodie met Sarah’s gaze. He’d just met her in person the day before, but there was something about her that made it easier to pull himself out of the dark pit he’d wallowed in for too long. Maybe it was the quilt, or the joy-filled note she’d attached to it describing a life he’d barely been able to imagine. Having met Sarah, seen Pine Hill first hand, he knew her joy was real. Sarah Smith loved life and that love flowed from her.
She said, “I didn’t have you pegged as someone who so closely adhered to the laws of the land.”
Her tone was almost disappointed, as if she sort of liked the thought that he might have bad-boy tendencies. Interesting. He eyed her with renewed curiosity.
“Maybe I’m just good enough to not get caught.”
Her full lips curved. “I can see how that would be the more likely scenario.”
Whoa. Sarah looked at him with a light in her eyes that drew him in like a moth to a flame, making him want to know more, to learn what was beneath the surface, what she thought of him. Maybe someone really could be blinded by a dazzling smile. “Explain.”
Her big brown depths shining with something warm and inviting and full of interest, she eyed him as she slowly chewed the bite she’d just taken. “I’m not sure I can without sounding judgmental.”
Giving in to his hunger, he took a bite of his burger. It was so good that he would’ve forgiven Lou on the spot if there’d been anything to forgive. He didn’t blame Sarah’s friends for checking him out. For that matter, she’d been too trusting to let him into her home unsupervised without looking into his background first. Just because she was full of goodness, she seemed to expect that the rest of the world was, too. Bodie knew better. He’d rarely dealt with goodness over the past decade.
“Try.”
She ate a couple of bites, then lowered her dark lashes as she said, “It’s just, well, I get the impression that you’re smarter than the average bear.”
Her explanation wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Not that he was sure exactly what he’d been expecting her to say. Then again, she’d just agreed that it was much more likely that he’d just not gotten caught rather than that he was a rule-follower. Whatever it was, he found her answer humorous and he gri
nned. “You think?”
She went from looking at him, to her eyes widening, to her choking on her burger. When she kept coughing and sputtering, he worried. He stood from his stool and slapped her across the back. Not hard, but enough that if she had food stuck, it would hopefully be dislodged.
Apparently, Harry was ready to act, too—the dog jumped to his feet and gave a loud ruff of concern.
Eyes watering, Sarah sputtered. “You didn’t have to do that. I was okay.”
“Sure you were. I could tell by the gasping sounds as you tried to breathe.”
“See?” She put her hand over her mouth and cleared her throat. “There you go showing how smart you are again.”
“Doesn’t take a genius to recognize the universal sign for choking.”
Wiping at her watery eyes, she said, “I wasn’t clutching my throat.”
“Much,” he corrected, amused at her prideful denials.
Her eyes wide, she asked, “Was I really?”
He nodded.
“I didn’t realize,” she admitted, staring at her burger. “I, um, was distracted, and, well, my food just went down the wrong direction and then I couldn’t breathe, but I was okay.”
Thinking back over their conversation, he wondered which part had distracted her. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary about their conversation other than that they’d been teasing each other a little. Surely that hadn’t caused her to swallow her food wrong?
“Glad you’re okay,” he told her, truthfully. His own ability to breathe had gone on hiatus when Sarah had been coughing and sputtering. Knowing she really was fine, he added, “Now that I saved you.”
She arched a brow. “Hero complex much?”
She had no idea. “Just calling things as I see them.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she teased, then met his gaze. Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “But thank you for saving me.” Taking a much smaller bite, she chewed it carefully. “So, Oh Smart One, tell me what you got done today.”