Season of Hope

by Lisa Jordan

  He stuck out his hand. “Hey, Annabeth. It’s nice to see you again. My name’s Jake.”

  She buried her face in Tori’s shoulder, then turned to give him a shy smile.

  Tori kissed her on the cheek, then set her down. “Why don’t you run back to the house and see if Auntie C is ready to see the piggies.”

  Annabeth ran across the yard, then turned back and gave them a little wave.

  “She’s cute.”

  “Yes, she is.” She handed him a brown lunch bag.

  He took it, eying the grease stain on the bag. “What’s this?”

  “Peace offering.”

  He opened the bag to find two golden-topped biscuits. He reached for one, surprised to find it still warm, and took a bite. Butter rolled across his tongue. He swallowed a groan and took another bite.

  Hands clasped in front of her, Tori bit the corner of her lip as she watched him.

  Jake finished off the biscuit, licked the melted butter off his fingers and reached for his travel mug sitting on a fence post. “Thank you. That was...good.”

  “Really?” Tori smiled. “I’m glad you liked it.”

  “I haven’t had biscuits like that since Mom...well, in a long time.”

  Tori wrapped her arms around her waist. “Actually, I made them using your mom’s recipe that Aunt Claudia had.”

  “You made these?” Jake held up the bag. “But...” Jake’s voice trailed off. No sense in bringing up the past.

  “I know. I used to burn toast. But I’m not that same girl anymore, Jake.” She searched his face, almost as if she was begging him to believe her.

  Jake stared at her, feeling himself being pulled in by those eyes. He drank in her smooth skin, the faint sprinkle of freckles she always tried to cover with makeup and her parted bare lips.

  The wind toyed with the stray hairs, brushing them across her cheek.

  He fisted his hand to keep from touching her.

  Westley nickered and pawed the dirt, jerking Jake’s attention away from Tori.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face and reached for the saddle pad he’d laid over the fence. He carried it over to Buttercup and smoothed it over her back. He ran a hand over her neck, and then he looked at Tori. “Mind checking out the farm on horseback?”

  “Kind of late to be asking that, aren’t you?” She tossed him a grin and reached for the saddle. She carried it over to Buttercup, rested it on the horse’s back, then made quick work of cinching the girth straps. She dusted off her knees and petted the horse. “Thanks to the summer camps my father sent me to, I can hold my own.”

  Jake checked the tightness.

  Tori rested a hand on his forearm. “Jake, I’ve been riding since I was a kid. I know what I’m doing.”

  Reaching for the pommel, Tori put her foot in the stirrup and pulled herself into the saddle. The leather creaked as she seated herself. Buttercup back-stepped and nickered against the weight, tossing her mane. Tori leaned forward, whispered something in the horse’s ear and patted the side of her neck.

  Jake saddled Westley and mounted the horse. “Westley and Buttercup were my parents’ horses. Dad can’t ride anymore and with Mom gone, they don’t get exercised as much as they should.”

  One more thing to add to his growing to-do list.

  “Princess Bride fans, huh?”

  “Mom’s favorite movie.” Leading them out of the barnyard, Jake guided them to the side of the road. Traffic wouldn’t be a problem. Another reason he loved Holland Hill.

  As they passed a worn, weathered red barn that sat between the farm and Tori’s property, she slowed Buttercup.

  “Problem?”

  She shook her head and pointed at the barn. “What’s that used for?”

  “Nothing anymore. Well, not livestock. It’s the first barn my grandfather built and the only one to weather the tornado. Now it’s used mainly for storage.”

  “Can I see it?”

  Jake shrugged. “Sure.”

  They dismounted, then he opened the fence to the pasture behind the barn for the horses to graze while he and Tori walked up the barn bridge and stood in the expansive doorway. Wings flapped from the rafters. Streams of sunshine beamed through the open windows to shine spotlights on the old wooden floor.

  Tori stood under the loft and checked out the rafters. She turned to him with a grin. “What would you say to an old-fashioned barn dance?”

  “Barn dance? For what?”

  “A fund-raiser for your program. The best place to host an awareness campaign for your program would be on the property where it’s going to take place. Let’s bring people to Holland Hill. I’m picturing a small petting zoo for the kids, hayrides, a barbecue, perhaps an auction of items donated by local businesses, and end the evening with a barn dance right here. And if you were feeling adventurous, we could look into fireworks.”

  “No fireworks, especially with veterans who can still hear the artillery fire in their heads when the rest of the world is quiet.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t think of that.”

  “And people would be willing to pay to attend?” Jake shot her his best “you can’t be serious” look, but she merely grinned.

  “Of course, especially once they hear about the program. We’ll presell tickets so we have a general idea of how many people to expect. We’ll get vendors to give us discounts or even free products in exchange for advertising.” As she talked, Tori continued to examine the barn. “If your family wanted to branch out, this barn would be perfect for rustic weddings and receptions. Brides are into that kind of thing these days.”

  Jake gave her a look like he had no clue what she was talking about.

  “Just think about using the barn. Aunt Claudia mentioned how much you valued your privacy, but I believe hosting the fund-raiser here will give people an authentic view of your vision. People will invest in programs they can get behind.”

  “After the tornado, we had all kinds of news crews up and down the hill. So, yeah, we do like our privacy, but I do hear what you’re saying. I’ll have to talk to Dad and Tuck.”

  They headed to the pasture. Jake opened the fence and whistled. Westley and Buttercup trotted over to him, and he grabbed their reins.

  “Let me know what you decide. In the meantime, I can put together some notes for you to share with them.” Tori mounted Buttercup and nodded down the road. “My house is right there. Want to stop by and see what needs to be done?”

  The way Tori sat in the saddle released a memory of when they rode together on the beach during their weekend honeymoon. Did she remember? He wasn’t about to ask and head down that path. He glanced at his watch and shook his head. “Sorry. Can’t. I need to get some stuff done in the barn before heading to the fields. Another time?”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  Despite her smile, Tori’s voice sounded like she didn’t believe him, but she could think what she wanted. He had chores to do, but he could’ve pushed them back another hour. Truth was, he needed a break. Even though they managed to spend time together without bickering, he realized how easy it would be to get caught up in her charms. He couldn’t risk that again. Not when there was much more at stake this time. He needed to keep his focus on the program.

  * * *

  Tori was in over her head.

  What made her think she could give up the city life and live in the country?

  Sure, she could handle the ten-minute drive into Shelby Lake for a good cup of coffee. And she certainly didn’t mind the lack of traffic. Or even the smells that drifted downwind from the Holland Farm.

  But, seriously, could she spend a lifetime living down the road from a man who wanted nothing to do with her? Again, she had no one to blame but herself. And it didn’t help that she’d sat up half the night making notes about Jake’s program. Maybe once he saw what she was
capable of doing, he’d see the value in having her around.

  But she needed to stop dwelling on Jake and make good use of the two kid-free hours she had to work on the house.

  When Aunt Claudia offered to take Annabeth to the park with her grandchildren, Tori wasted no time in making a list. She always worked better with a plan.

  Grabbing her phone and water bottle, she headed for the staircase to check out the second-floor bedrooms. If she could get those, the bathroom and the kitchen in working order, then she and Annabeth could move in sooner, then work on the other rooms as time and money allowed.

  Aunt Claudia confessed to lacking the motivation to keep up the house once her husband had gotten sick and they moved into town. Hopefully, any work needing to be done was cosmetic and wouldn’t eat up her entire savings.

  As she climbed the steps, Tori sucked in a breath as her thigh muscles quivered and protested each movement.

  Did Jake suggest a horseback farm tour to see if she could handle it?

  She’d ridden horses before. Lots of times. But she hadn’t been on one since...well, their honeymoon and the ride they’d taken on the beach.

  Had he remembered? If so, he’d given no inclination.

  Not that she expected him to.

  At the top of the stairs, Tori scanned the small sitting area with a window that overlooked the backyard. She pictured a couple of cushy chairs with knitted afghans, a filled bookcase, a reading lamp and a patterned throw rug to soften the original hardwood floor. The faded yellow walls needed to be repainted. After dictating a few notes into her phone, she checked out each of the three bedrooms with identical hardwood floors. Thankfully, they needed nothing more than to be cleaned and repainted.

  The bathroom was another matter. Sure, she could live with the aqua-colored tub and matching toilet and black linoleum and call it retro, but did she want to? Replacing them would put quite a dent in her savings.

  What had Aunt Claudia been thinking by keeping the decades-old fixtures?

  After snapping a few photos and taking more notes, Tori headed out of the room and noticed a door outside the bathroom at the top of the stairs. How had she missed that coming up? Probably because she’d been too busy whining to herself about climbing the Mount Everest steps.

  Must be a linen closet.

  She tried to turn the old-fashioned black knob, but it was tight. She turned harder, and the door popped open. She made a quick note to replace the knob and tucked the phone in the back pocket of her jeans.

  Definitely not a closet. It had to be the entrance to the attic Aunt Claudia had mentioned. Tori had expected a pull-down set of rickety steps.

  She peered up the steps, seeing nothing but shadows. Was she brave enough to venture into the unknown? And climb more stairs?

  She felt the wall for a light switch and flicked it on before remembering the utilities hadn’t been turned on yet. Another thing to add to her to-do list.

  A heavy musty odor hung over the darkness like an invisible curtain. Light filtered through a dirty rectangular window at the top of the stairs, casting shadows across dusty rafters and various-sized boxes.

  Maybe she could open the window to air out the space.

  Tori pulled her phone out and flicked on the flashlight, pointing it ahead of her. Dust motes danced in the narrow beam. The low-battery warning chimed. She’d have to hurry.

  Cobwebs, burdened with dust, stretched between sturdy beams. The wooden floor creaked beneath her feet as she made her way to the window. She felt like she’d stepped inside a Nancy Drew novel, exploring with Nancy, George and Bess.

  Something rustled to her right.

  Tori froze, her heart hammering against her rib cage.

  Maybe she didn’t need to open the window after all.

  Pointing her phone in the direction of the noise, she flashed the light across a rusted metal tool chest, half a dozen boxes, stray limbs from an artificial Christmas tree and a plastic play kitchen missing a faucet.

  She exhaled and shook her head.

  Nothing to be afraid of.

  Something soft and furry brushed against her ankle, and Tori yelped, jumping back. She shined the light to the floor as a tiny gray puff with a long tail scampered across her foot and disappeared into the darkness.

  She screamed, dropped her phone and turned, slamming her toe against the metal toolbox. Pain shot across her foot.

  Clenching her jaw to hold back another scream, Tori snatched her phone off the floor and half ran, half limped to the doorway.

  She hurried down the stairs to find the door had closed behind her. She hadn’t even heard it. She twisted the tight knob, but it wouldn’t budge.

  Oh. Come. On.

  She rammed her shoulder against the door. She tried the knob one more time, turning with all the strength she could manage. She felt a pop, but instead of the door opening, the stupid knob broke off in her hand.

  Terrific.

  What was she going to do now?

  Tori plopped down on the step and tossed the knob next to her. It clattered down the two stairs and rolled against the stuck door.

  She sucked in a deep breath. Sweat beaded across her forehead as a chill stroked her arms. She gathered her knees to her chest and closed her eyes, focusing on slow, even breaths.

  Think, Victoria.

  There had to be some way of getting the door open.

  Tiny feet scurried across the floor above her.

  And soon.

  Maybe the wretched toolbox she stubbed her toe against had a screwdriver or something in it.

  She reached for her phone, turned on her music and blasted the volume as she limped back up the steps and flashed the light to guide her. She found the toolbox, reached for the latch and felt a small padlock.

  Of course.

  Her phone beeped, then dimmed in her hand.

  She headed for the stairs while she had enough light to guide her path. She took another step, and the floor gave slightly, feeling a bit spongy. As she took one more step, her foot slid on a slick spot. She reached out to catch herself and dropped the phone, plunging her into darkness except for the light coming from the grimy window.

  Her weight landed on her right side, forcing her foot through the damaged floorboard. She tried to pull her foot free, but pain knifed her ankle.

  Tori’s chest shuddered as her breathing quickened and her pulse raced.

  She was trapped with no way of calling for help. Darkness hooded her as the noises amplified.

  Was that a squeak?

  Something brushed against her arm. She batted at it.

  She was back in the closet again. In her father’s house. But this time she wasn’t cradling a terrified Annabeth against her chest, trying to silence the little girl’s sobs so they wouldn’t be found by intruders plowing through the downstairs.

  No.

  She was safe.

  In her own house.

  But trapped.

  Branches scratched against the windowpane, throwing long-fingered shadows across the room...reaching out for her. With no phone, how was she going to be able to call Aunt Claudia for help?

  Help me, God.

  Seconds became minutes.

  Tires crunched in the driveway. A moment later, the doorbell rang. Then someone pounded on the door, calling her name.

  Why had she locked the door?

  Because she was a scaredy-cat.

  A grown woman afraid to be in the house by herself.

  And of the dark.

  A moment later, an engine started.

  “No! Don’t leave! Help me!” Tori’s cries, punctuated by sobs, bounced off the beams.

  She tried to pull her foot free again and sucked in a sharp breath as the splintered wood razored her leg. She dropped to the floor and tried to pry the damaged wood
away, but it broke off in pieces. A splinter speared her finger.

  Heavy footsteps thundered up the staircase to the second floor.

  Someone was in her house.

  Tori brushed a hand over her face. “Help!”

  Wood splintered with a loud crack, then swung free, throwing welcoming light up the darkened steps.

  “Tori?” Jake’s voice caused fresh tears to fill Tori’s eyes.

  She blinked them back. “I’m up here. My foot is stuck.”

  He raced up the steps and swung a flashlight in her direction.

  She threw up a hand to shield against the brightness. Jake hurried over to her. Handing her the flashlight, he knelt beside her. “Hold this.”

  His gentle touch pressed against her bruised flesh as he worked a large enough area to pull her foot free from the rotted board. “There you go. You’re free.”

  Jake cupped her elbow and helped her to stand.

  Tori launched herself into his arms, nearly knocking him off balance. “Get me out of here.”

  Jake scooped her into his arms and carried her down the steps, through the house and out the front door, where he deposited her gently on the top step of the front porch.

  Tori gulped in a lungful of fresh air, wiped the backs of her hands across the dried trail of tears down her cheeks and forced a smile. “I’m not a damsel in distress, you know. I can take care of myself.”

  “Everyone needs to be rescued at one point or another, and there’s no shame in that.” Jake looked at her a moment, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward his truck. “I have a first aid kit in the glove box. Let me grab it and clean up your leg a little.”

  He returned a moment later and tore open an antiseptic wipe as she pulled up the leg of her jeans. Gritting her teeth, she tensed as the antiseptic wipe stung the cut above her ankle.

  “Sorry.” He shot her a quick look. “What happened?”

  Tori gave him a replay and tried not to wince as his fingers brushed across the torn skin. After cleaning the area, he ripped open three bandages and plastered them over the cut. “I don’t think it’s deep enough for stitches, but you can get it checked out if you want. Or I can have Tuck look it over once he wakes up—he works midnights.”