A SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE BOXED SET

by Lewis, Laurie

  “Do whatever you must to make it work, but make certain you take the Eppley job.”

  Noah wished taking this job wasn’t so important to his uncle, especially in light of his next request.

  “I think we’d better move the Fourth of July up this year . . .”

  The miracle Uncle John prayed for was not coming. His time was short. The Anderson children had been notified, and soon the house would be filled with Noah’s cousins, and their families, arriving to share their patriarch’s last days together.

  It was clear to Noah that getting him established professionally had been of critical importance to his uncle. Uncle John knew the Eppley job could launch Noah’s construction career in the area. More than that, it would keep Noah busy for several weeks. He assumed that was his uncle’s primary objective, not to be rid of him, but to give his nephew a last gift—a purpose and a direction after John was—.

  Noah couldn’t bear to say the word. Neither could his aunt.

  He took her home and sat with her for hours. Little was said. They filled and refilled steaming cups that inevitably turned cold. He could barely swallow past the sight of her curled up in John’s favorite chair, breathing in his scent that permeated the upholstery and the afghan he loved.

  The next morning, while Sarah was still asleep, he slipped over to Agnes’s to feed the livestock before returning to shower and dress in the clothes he recently purchased with Agnes’s fashion assistance. As he drove Sarah back to the hospital, he felt edgy and frazzled, as if parts of him might simply fly off at any second. It was not the image he wanted to present today at the meeting with the Eppleys and Delacourte’s commissioned artist.

  He barely recognized the man reflected back at him from the gallery window, a man with groomed hair, dressed in a white shirt, beige khakis, navy sport coat, and silk tie. It was him, and yet it was not, at least not who he was a month ago. His hand slipped into his pocket seeking his two charms. He rubbed them, took a deep breath, and entered the gallery.

  Katherine, Mr. Delacourte’s assistant, called down to him from the mezzanine. “Good to see you, Noah. The Eppleys have already arrived. Come join us up here in the conference room, will you? We’re just waiting for our artist to show.”

  Noah’s first glimpse of Ely Eppley was a view of his left side through the glass wall of the conference room. The most noticeable feature of the fortyish veteran was his wheelchair, which was different from most—narrow and sleek. His left leg was missing from above the knee, and his still-muscular left arm ended with a hook-like appliance where his hand should have been. But for all his reasons to be unhappy, his eyes were bright with life as he spoke animatedly with his wife. Noah liked him immediately.

  Margot Eppley sat beside her husband, holding his good hand. She was a short, pretty woman with premature streaks of gray in her brown hair.

  Katherine placed her hand on the small of Noah’s back and guided him into the room. “Margot and Ely Eppley? I’d like you to meet Noah Carter. Noah, the Eppleys are the Chamber of Commerce’s contest winners, and they’re going to keep you quite busy.”

  Ely offered Noah a curt smile before extending his hand. “Thank you for contributing to this prize.”

  “It’s an honor, sir.”

  “Please,” said Ely, who took Noah’s hand, simultaneously dismissing his praise with a scowl and a shake of his head. “Just call me Ely. And regardless of what this prize committee says, Margot’s the only hero in this family. I’m just going along with this for her.”

  There was a defensive tone to his voice. Noah assumed Katherine had also heard it when he saw her fidget, and then nearly leap from her seat as she announced, “Our artist has arrived!”

  Noah glanced down at the lobby entrance to catch a glimpse of the artist’s back. The woman was tall and thin, made more so by heels and the cut of the chic black pantsuit she wore. Noah’s first impression was that she was another stiff prima donna, but as he watched her move, he realized she walked with a practiced grace that failed her in nervous moments, like while scrambling to find her phone or frantically searching for something on it. Noah studied the frustrated, one-hip slouch the artist sank into, tapping her foot, while waiting for the tortoise-driven elevator. She turned for the stairs, then stopped to smooth an escaped hair back into place. Before ascending the steps, she took a deliberate breath and regrouped. In that moment, Noah connected all the unnervingly familiar pieces. “Tayte?”

  “Good,” cooed Katherine. “You’ve already met.”

  His hand moved to the door handle as he added, “Would you excuse me for a moment?”

  He left the glass room and strode to the rail that overlooked the staircase and spacious gallery lobby. Despite her nervousness, Tayte ascended with grace, clearly still in her element, while he, as she had so frequently reminded him, was not. Would she remind him of that again today? In front of the staff and clients? He groaned inwardly as the old awkwardness returned. Who was he fooling? He felt like a ten-year-old boy in his big brother’s Sunday suit.

  Desperate for some validation, he remembered Uncle John’s words, that Delacourte was a respected gallery owner, and his stamp of approval meant Noah’s work was worthy to be here. That Noah was worthy to be here.

  He looked again at Tayte as she climbed the winding stairs. They were strangers on their combative initial encounters, with no need or inclination to become familiar. Then yesterday, on what was likely among their worst of starts, barriers fell and differences faded as they became allies, working together to meet Agnes’s needs. He didn’t know what they would be today, but judging from Tayte’s appearance, he felt they were miles apart again.

  Her dark hair was severely pulled back and braided into a sophisticated twist, leaving her perfect face unframed. She was truly a natural beauty who, aside from a slip of lip gloss and mascara and a stroke of blush on her high cheekbones, wore no visible makeup. For a moment, he believed he was seeing a trace of who Agnes once was.

  Noah tried not to stare, but when she looked up, their gazes met. He drew some comfort from that moment. Tayte did a noticeable double take as well, registering equal surprise and approval when she recognized him, but by the time she climbed the last stair and reached the conference room, her surprise had turned to confrontation.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked under her breath. “Don’t tell me you’re providing the frame for the portrait.”

  Katherine stepped out of the room and asked. “Is there a problem?”

  Noah and Tayte stared at each other.

  “None,” said Noah as his eyes remained fixed on Tayte.

  “Katherine, could we have a moment?” asked Tayte.

  “If we’re going to have a problem I want to know right now. I will not allow anything to embarrass this gallery or tarnish this experience for the Eppleys. Is that clear?”

  Noah offered a convincing smile to Katherine. “Perfectly. We’ll be right in.”

  Katherine calmed and returned to the room while Tayte led Noah down the hall. Before she stopped and turned to face him, Noah asked, “I thought we reached a mutual understanding last night.”

  “Our lives are becoming too entangled. You saw how tense things got between us yesterday. I need this job, Noah. I can’t afford to have anything go wrong.”

  “What could go wrong? I won’t be building the frame in their living room.”

  “But the craftsman who builds the frame is also building their deck.”

  “I don’t have the job yet, but even if I get it, where’s the problem? You’re not painting their portrait in the backyard are you?”

  Tayte remained unconvinced. “Who will be with Grandmother if we’re both working?”

  The mention of his involvement in Agnes’s care pleased Noah, but he hadn’t considered this complication. “We’ll arrange some sort of schedule. It’ll work. It has to.” He doubled down. “Listen, having me do this for the Eppleys means a great deal to my uncle. You can quit if you want to, b
ut I’m staying on if they ask me.” With that he returned to the room.

  Moments later, Tayte entered. Katherine pulled Noah over to the artist, and eyed the pair from over the rims of her glasses, which she slid to the end of her nose. “I certainly hope we’ve worked things out,” she warned with a whisper, “because we’re counting on you to dazzle them.” The contrite duo nodded, and Katherine led them back to the Eppleys, resuming her honey-sweet persona.

  “Noah Carter and Tayte Donnelly have just recently joined the Delacourte family, but I assure you their work is very special. They’ll do a remarkable job for you. So, as soon as we sign these papers we’ll head to the lobby for an interview and a few photos for the local paper. Then, Mr. and Mrs. Eppley, I suggest you have Noah and Tayte come to your home so they can meet your children. Inspiration will do the rest.”

  Noah squinted during the photo session and stuttered when answering his one interview question. He was willing, and even proud to participate in the hoopla after overhearing why vendors had chosen to bestow over forty thousand dollars’ worth of appliances, furnishings, groceries, and gifts on the Eppley family. Ely truly was a hero, in more ways than one.

  He and Margot led a small convoy back to their modest ranch-style house in the Piedmont’s foothills. “Eppley’s Edibles,” graced a weather-worn sign that sat at the entrance to the property. The sign’s faded lettering was written in a curly font and adorned with cracked and peeling images of fruits and vegetables. It was a smaller version of the equally faded sign that graced the metal barn situated in the back of their large yard. Noah assumed the barn was the location of the family business. A ragged, rocky path led from the house to the barn. Noah could easily see the challenge the trip presented to Ely every morning. Tall weeds and grass grew in thatched clumps amid bare spots in a large yard that was sorely in need of more attention than this burdened family could give. The place had potential, but it required a tremendous amount of work.

  “I’d like to survey out back where the deck will go,” said Noah.

  Tayte cleared her throat. “I’d appreciate it if you’d focus on the portrait frame first.”

  Here we go, he thought as he followed Tayte and the Eppleys through the front door and into the modest home’s living room.

  The warmth of the interior struck Noah first, from the white-painted, brick fireplace to the bay window with its padded seat. Every wall and shelf boasted family photos and child art. The preteen boy in the family photos was Asian. Noah assumed he was adopted, adding another captivating element to this family.

  The cozy furniture was worn, but neatly adorned with knitted afghans and pillows, reminiscent of those his aunt made. It was a welcoming place where board games and puzzles beckoned and where racks of movies and books promised hours of family fun.

  A brown-haired girl of eight or nine years ran to greet her parents. Noah noticed a marked limp in her gait as the smiling child moved to her father’s lap to receive a hug. A lump formed in Noah’s throat as he recalled the years of torment he endured over his bent legs.

  “This is our daughter, Jenna,” said Margot. “Jenna, Ms. Donnelly is the artist who’ll be painting our portrait, and Mr. Carter is going to make a special frame for us.”

  “And build our deck?”

  “We haven’t gotten that far yet,” said Ely. “Jenna, would you go get Micah, please?”

  Before Jenna got very far, Tayte jumped right into business. “What backdrop where you planning to use? The fireplace would work, or do you want to pose outdoors?”

  “In the grotto at City Park!” yelled Jenna before exiting through the doorway.

  Margot looked apologetically at Tayte. “We have a favorite spot, but it’s about thirty minutes away, in Hagerstown’s City Park. Would it be possible to use that as our setting?”

  “Thirty minutes?” Tayte appeared to be doing mental calculations. “I don’t know. We’re supposed to present the final portrait in less than five weeks, at the Flag Day ceremony on June fourteenth. I’d want to do the initial sketch in front of the backdrop and lay down the first layer of color in a live sitting. Even if I do the bulk of the work from a photograph, we’d need to return to the grotto so I can add highlights and shading. That means we’d need to go there several times for a few hours each visit, all within the next couple of weeks. Are you up to that?”

  The room remained silent while everyone considered the complications of using a remote location. Noah saw Jenna enter and press her hands together prayer-like, pleading for her parents to agree to Tayte’s terms, and he threw his support in with her.

  “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I’d choose someplace really special to my family.”

  Tayte shot him a look of disapproval over the comment.

  “What do you think?” Margot asked Ely. “Can the business survive us being away that much?”

  Ely’s face wrinkled with indecision as the young man in the photo entered, wiping his greasy hands on a rag.

  “Sorry. I was working on the mower.”

  “Good job, son.” Ely looked at his guests. “Micah has become my hands. Lucky for me he’s smart and a hard worker. Micah, we’re talking about the family portrait. If we pose at the grotto we’ll miss a lot of work. We’d need your help to catch up.”

  Micah smiled and nodded. “I’m in.”

  Jenna clapped her hands together as Margot announced, “The grotto it is.”

  Tayte left after jotting down the information about City Park and the grotto, leaving Noah behind to discuss the frame and deck with the family. He looked at the brochure of premade deck kits Ely picked up at the hardware store and listened as each family member commented on what they liked about each. Then he went outside and took some photos of the backyard and house. His phone buzzed three times. As expected, it was Tayte.

  “Do you have any idea how much more difficult your meddling made my job?”

  “It’s what they wanted, and it will earn you big points at the gallery. Isn’t that what you really want?”

  “What?” Noah heard panic in her voice. “Oh, no . . . something’s wrong at the farm. There are trucks and men running around everywhere. Noah, can you get here right away?”

  Chapter 16

  Noah sped back to the farm where a plumber’s truck and a septic tanker were parked. Tayte paced around the farm with her phone glued to her face, but Agnes was nowhere in sight.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Which disaster are you referring to?” Panic was written in every aspect of Tayte’s demeanor, and her jaw was pressed tight enough to crack nuts. “Grandma salvaged spoiled sausage from the garbage, fried it up, and ate it. It gave her diarrhea, and she’s been throwing up. The toilet wouldn’t flush so she tried to fix it, and she ended up breaking a valve or something, which caused a flood. The only number she could remember was the feed mill’s so she called them, and they called a plumber, who turned off the water main, but while he was fixing the toilet, he discovered a new disaster—the septic tank has a crack, so he called this septic guy. The bill is already over seven hundred dollars, and the plumber thinks the old tank may have actually collapsed, in which case she’ll need a whole new system which will cost thousands of dollars.”

  “Breathe, Tayte. Just breathe. I’ll go talk to them.”

  “I already talked to them!”

  Noah’s first impulse was to bolt. He took a deep breath instead. “Where’s Agnes?”

  A new panic overtook Tayte. She threw her hands in the air in defeat. “I don’t know. She was here, and then she wandered out back. She’s upset with me. I told her if we can’t afford the repairs, she won’t be able to stay on the farm.”

  “Why would you say that? That was the worst possible thing you could tell her.” He scanned the perimeter for Agnes but saw no sign of her.

  “Thanks for the support. I’m sorry I upset her, but I’m new to this, okay? It’s been two pretty horrible days. Is this how it’s always going to be? Because
if it is—”

  “It’s not. It’s our fault. We left her alone too long. If one of us had been here things wouldn’t have gotten so out of control.”

  “But the septic system would still be broken and my grandmother still wouldn’t have enough money to pay for it.” Tayte leaned forward and groaned. When she stood back up, reason had returned but the gloom remained. “Grandma is on a fixed income. She can’t afford this, and I’ve already spent everything I have for the month, and it’s only the tenth. I’ve been trying to reach Nathaniel to see if I can get an advance on my inheritance, but every time Nathaniel calls me, there’s another delay or another debt to be paid. I don’t know what to do.”

  She ended one failed call and started dialing a new number. Noah clasped his hands over hers to stop the dialing. “It’s going to be all right. First, we need to find Agnes.”

  They searched the house and found Agnes seated on the floor in a corner of her room, clutching Bijou in her arms. Her appearance spoke of fatigue and defeat, from the braided gray bun that drooped to the side of her head to eyes framed by tear-smeared mascara. When Noah and Tayte entered, she jutted her bottom lip forward and squeezed one arm more tightly around the cat while pushing her other hand forward to stop the intruders.

  “Allez-vous! I want you both to go away! This is my house. My farm. You can’t make me leave it. I was fine before you came. I want you to take your things and leave me alone!”

  Tayte sank onto Agnes’s fur-covered bed.

  “We’ll go if that’s what you want, Agnes,” Noah said softly, “but that won’t fix the plumbing. You’ve got no water and no toilet right now. That’s not a good situation, is it?”

  “During the war we had no plumbing. I will draw water from the creek if I have to. I will do my business in the field. I bet I can survive better than you.”