Hometown Healing

A low rumble outside caught her attention. It sounded close, like in Mom’s yard.

“Oh, no.” She glanced toward the living room windows. The blinds were lowered. “Please don’t tell me...” She sprang to her feet, crossed the room and parted the blinds to see out. What in the world?

Jed Gilbertson was mowing Mom’s yard. What was he up to?

“Hold on, sweet girl.” She kissed Ava’s forehead. “Mama will be right back.”

She hurried outside, stopping a few feet from Jed and his lawn mower. Close enough that bits of grass flew back at her, causing her to sneeze.

With his back to her, he remained oblivious to her presence.

Dressed in cut-off jean shorts, a gray T-shirt that stretched across his muscular frame, a straw hat and—boots? Who wore boots with shorts? Didn’t matter... He looked amazing in them.

She shook her head. She wasn’t a stupid teenager anymore, and she would not go all goo-goo eyed for this man. She’d had enough heartbreak in the past couple of years to last the rest of her life.

She waited for him to notice her.

He did on his way back. Releasing the lever, he let the mower die, then removed his hat and wiped his sweaty forehead with a bandana he fished out of his pocket. “Howdy.”

“Hey.” She shifted and brushed grass flecks from her face. “I...um... I don’t want to sound rude or anything, but...what are you doing here?”

“Mowing your mom’s yard.”

“Why?”

“I do it every Saturday. On account of her being ill and all.”

So he thought Mom was sick. Like sick-sick. And there was no way she could correct him without embarrassing her. Or herself. “That’s very thoughtful, Jed, but I can take care of this.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes started to itch and water, probably due to the grass dust that had bombarded them. She swiped the ends of her fingers under her bottom lashes. Oh. She wasn’t wearing makeup. Feeling her face heating, she cast a glance at her pajamas—froggy boxers with a mismatched, baggy T-shirt decorated with a big old coffee stain. And her hair...

She touched her curly—and no doubt frizzy—locks and winced.

Too late to hide under a rock now. Straightening, she raised her chin and forced a confident smile. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but it’s really not necessary. I’ll manage my mother’s yard work from now on.” Or at least for as long as she stayed in Sage Creek.

“You got a mower?”

“What? Of course.” She glanced toward the garage, which was closed and likely jam-packed with Mom’s clutter.

She left Ava well occupied by her mother and returned less than ten minutes later. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and with her hair tamed by curl cream, she pushed a rusted mower with cobwebs clinging to it. The thing had to be at least twenty years old, and probably hadn’t been used in twice that time. She pressed the little gas button thingamabob numerous times, widened her stance, grabbed the lever and cranked.

Nothing. Not even a putter.

She tried several more times, jerking faster and faster, until her hands felt slick and sore. Same outcome. She studied the contraption. Then cast a nervous glance Jed’s way, grateful to find him focused on mowing his grandmother’s yard.

She turned back to the hunk of metal that was causing every last drop of her patience to evaporate. Stupid thing was probably broken. Now what?

The steady hum drifting from Jed’s direction stopped, and she stiffened. She squeezed her eyes shut, then gritting her teeth, gave the lawn mower’s lever another hearty yank.

Nada.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Jed approach with his cedar-citrus scent preceding him.

“Need a hand?”

She smoothed rogue strands of hair from her eyes and faced him with what she hoped to be a casual smile. “I appreciate your concern, but...” What? She had this handled? Obviously not.

His crooked grin sent a jolt through her. “As stubborn as ever, I see.”

She crossed her arms. “As cocky as ever, I see.”

He laughed, and his chocolate-brown eyes danced. “Let me take a look.”

She stepped aside to give him access to the contraption, and then she waited while he gave the mower a thorough once-over.

After a few minutes, he straightened and dusted off his hands. “Out of gas.”

Great. But at least it wasn’t broken. “Thanks. Guess I better fill it, then.” Did Mom even have one of those portable gas cans? She stepped toward the house to grab her keys, knowing full well he’d likely mow Mom’s lawn while she was gone.

* * *

Shaking his head, Jed watched Paige pull her car out of the driveway and exit the neighborhood. That girl was as bullheaded as...as a...as a bull. But a whole lot cuter. Especially when annoyed. Not that he intended to provoke her, except maybe by tackling her mother’s lawn before she returned.

Now, there was a challenge.

Then, once she’d calmed down a bit—she never had been good at accepting help—he’d mention the script-writing job. Or send her to Grandma’s. No. As tempting as it was to pass the buck, he wasn’t going to chicken out on this one.

Why was he so nervous to talk to her? He’d never been this way before...except during that summer when he’d first realized he’d fallen in love. Man, he had been a wreck, stumbling over his words and blurting out stupid, nonsensical statements. When he’d finally mustered up the nerve to ask her out, he’d botched it so badly, she’d laughed.

In the most adorable, shy way.

Then she said the word that practically made his heart spring from his chest—yes.

Moving quickly, he pushed her rusted lawn mower aside, then started up his. He’d made it three-quarters of the way through with sweat trickling into his eyes and down his back by the time she returned. But rather than quit, he stepped things up, as if daring her to stop him.

He made a sharp turn at her fence and almost laughed out loud. This was more fun than calf wrangling. He cast Paige a glance as he maneuvered around the thick, protruding roots of her mama’s oak tree, feeling amused to find her standing in her driveway. Watching him. A red gas can sat at her feet. It looked brand-new.

Once finished, he lifted his hat and mopped his face with his bandana.

Fighting a victorious grin, he sauntered over to her. “I normally weed eat every other Saturday. I’ll take care of that next time.”

“It’s really not necessary.” The sun lit her peach complexion and highlighted the most endearing splatter of freckles on her nose and forehead. “And thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. “So, how long are you staying?”

“At my mom’s, you mean?”

He nodded.

Her gaze dropped. “Awhile.”

Tight-lipped, just like she’d been at the house. Everything about her, from the hard glint in her eye to her stiff stance, said “back off.” But he couldn’t do that. Not yet.

“Listen. About your job...” Probably not the best intro. “You remember my grandparents’ theater?”

She nodded, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

“We’re partners now, Grandma and I, and we’d like to hire you on. As a writer. If you’re interested.” He told her about his renovation plans and his difficulties finding a workable script. “Can’t pay you a whole lot, unfortunately...”

“I appreciate the offer, but...” She lifted her chin. “I’m a journalist. What makes you think I could write a mystery?”

“You won that short-story contest in junior high.” She’d written a modern-day Peter Pan meets Cinderella love story.

“That was a long time ago.”

“Thought maybe you could give it a whirl. If it doesn’t work out, no harm done.” Except then they’d be out of time and without a script.

“I don’t think—”

He raised a hand. “You don’t have to answer now. Just chew on it.”

She gave a slow nod.

With his hands in his pockets, he watched her a moment longer. Long enough for three cars and a bicyclist to pass through his peripheral vision. He knew, because he counted, while trying to ignore the pull of her vanilla-cinnamon perfume and blue eyes.

“’Spect I should let you go.” With a tip of his hat, he left, before things became any more awkward. It felt like high school all over again, only harder, because now a canyon of confusion and misunderstanding stretched between them.

Two hours later, he arrived at the theater a few minutes before rehearsal to go over the night’s menu with the chef. They had two requests for gluten free and one for no dairy. Fresh asparagus lay on the counter, washed and ready to be cooked, and a quick glance into the walk-in verified steaks were marinating.

“Looking good.” He smiled at his kitchen staff and shot Dillon a thumbs-up. Then he migrated to the dining area to wait on his cast, who should be arriving soon for the preshow rehearsal.

He made a visual sweep of the theater’s interior, imagining how it would look after the renovations. Wild West Murder Mystery. The notion might seem absurd, but sometimes it took the unexpected to make things work. He smiled at Paige’s old phrase, remembering the fun, giggling girl she used to be. Before life had stolen the joy from those sweet blue eyes. From what he’d heard, that ex-husband had really hurt her something awful. Lying, manipulation... Before abandoning her and her sweet little one.

What kind of father could just up and walk away from his baby girl?

Then again, wasn’t that what Paige’s dad had done years ago?

No wonder she acted so guarded around him.

What would it take for her to learn to trust again? he wondered.

Back in high school, when she’d first started pulling away, he’d thought she was done with him. That he’d annoyed her something fierce. He knew now she’d been hurting. And when Paige hurt, she withdrew. Pushed people away.

Kind of like she was doing now. He didn’t know how to deal with her any more today than he had back then. But he desperately needed her help. So he better start learning. Fast.

Chapter Four

On Sunday morning, Paige awoke to Ava singing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” She was lying on her back on the guest bed with her arms stretched toward the ceiling, and her pudgy little hands opening and closing.

“Aren’t you the cheerful little one?” Paige scooped her up and kissed her neck, triggering a series of squeals and giggles.

“You hungry?” She checked the time on her alarm clock. It was past eight o’clock—later than she normally got up. Or had intended to, thanks to a restless night spent fretting over Jed, the last person she needed to be thinking about.

“Ice cweam?” Ava’s eyes held a mischievous glint, adding at least two years to her chubby-cheeked expression.

“Ice cream?” Paige asked. Ava scooted toward the edge of the bed, but Paige pulled her back by her ankle and started tickling her once again.

“Yeah!” She spoke in between her laughter.

“For breakfast?”

“Yeah. Ice cweam. Ice cweam. Ice cweam.” Ava smacked the bed with each statement, and her eyes were practically swallowed by her smile.

A knock sounded. “You up, sweetie?” The door creaked open, and Mom poked her head in.

“I am now. Isn’t that right, Ava-girl?”

Her daughter bobbed her head, and her auburn curls danced against her forehead.

Paige leaned back against the headboard. “Everything okay?”

Mom stepped inside, wearing a long pink dress that hit her midshin and a shimmery cardigan. Ava’s eyes lit up. She scrambled toward her grandmother’s outstretched arms.

“There’s my little princess.” Mom peppered Ava’s face with kisses, initiating more laughter.

Mom tugged Ava’s pajama top, which was riding up, over her round belly. “Figured we’d go to church together this morning.”

Paige rubbed her eyes. Church? She hadn’t been in years, and not once with Mom. “I don’t want to be rude, but... I didn’t think you were into religion.”

“Don’t sound so enthused.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I’m just...surprised.”

“I go on occasion, and today seems as good as any, especially considering I actually slept some last night. Soon as my head quit feeling like it wanted to explode.” She tugged on one of Ava’s curls, then released it. “Figured you’d be happy with how you keep bugging to get me out of the house. Besides, thought you’d want to go. You always did as a kid.”

When she’d accompanied Mrs. Tappen, Mom had always stayed home, sipping coffee and watching talk shows. Or rather, staring mindlessly at the television while some talk show host’s voice dominated the otherwise silent living room.

“When’s the service?”

“Nine.”

That meant she had forty-five minutes to feed and dress Ava, gulp down some caffeine, tame her frizzy hair and get out the door. Not much time. Certainly not enough to send out her résumé like she’d planned.

Two cups of coffee and a shower later, she emerged from her room with damp but de-frizzed curls, and she was dressed in white capris and a flowing purple blouse. Wearing pink shorts and a matching top that was trimmed with lace, Ava looked as adorable as ever.

She was the one bright spot from Paige’s failed marriage, the one good thing her ex-husband Jarred had given her.

“You ready?” Mom asked.

“Yep. I’ll drive.”

“Actually, we’re—” Mom snapped her fingers “—hold on. I need to grab something to keep my blood sugar up.” She dashed into the kitchen.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Who would be visiting so early on a Sunday? She found Mrs. Tappen standing on the stoop, wearing a floral dress and a pale blue bonnet. Her long silver braid was draped over her shoulder.

“Oh, good.” She swept Paige into a tight hug. “I’d hoped you’d join us. And look at you!” She caressed Ava’s cheek with the back of her hand. “As darling as a rosebud.”

“Good morning, Judith.” Mom approached them, carrying two bananas and a partially eaten bag of saltines.

“That it is.” Mrs. Tappen patted Paige’s cheek. She hiked her purse higher on her shoulder, turned toward the walk and cast Mom a backward glance. “You sleep well?”

“As well as can be expected.” Traipsing after Mrs. Tappen, she talked about insomnia, backaches and everything else that hindered a good night’s sleep.

Paige locked up and then followed the two chatty ladies with a smile. Psychosomatic or not, it was nice to see Mom so animated, so engaged. It’d be good to spend the morning with Mrs. Tappen, too.

Maybe her time in Sage Creek wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

She rounded the corner to the driveway, but then stopped.

Oh, no. She should’ve known.

There sat Jed’s truck in Mom’s driveway with him behind the wheel dressed in a plaid, short-sleeved shirt. Clean-shaven, he grinned like a kid on the first day of summer vacation.

The image triggered memories of all of the times he’d pulled up in a pickup similar to this but not quite so fancy, waiting to take her to the movies or out for ice cream. Sometimes just for a long drive into the country.

He jumped out as the ladies drew near, tipping his hat first at Mom and then at his grandmother. “Howdy.” He rounded his truck to open the door for them and then faced Ava. “Hey there, little princess.”

Ava grinned, then turned her head away. Then turned it back, and then away again.

Jed laughed. “Peekaboo, huh?” He played along, revealing one goofy expression after another.

Ava giggled and snagged the brim of his hat, making it sit cockeyed. He plunked it on her head. Everyone laughed when it practically swallowed her. Everyone except Paige. She wasn’t sure how she felt seeing the man who’d broken her heart connecting with her little girl.

Jed chuckled and put his hat back on. “Gonna have to watch you, aren’t I?” He poked her in the stomach, eliciting a giggle, and then faced Paige. “She need a car seat?”

“Oh. Right. Hold on.” She paused. “Actually, how about we just follow. It’ll be easier.”

“Nonsense. I’ll grab it.” Her mom dashed to her car before Paige could argue.

Paige hadn’t seen her move that fast since...ever.

This was not how she’d planned to spend her first Sunday back in Sage Creek. But she couldn’t back out now, not without looking like an idiot.

So instead, she offered her widest smile, did her best to make small talk until everyone, Ava included, was settled, and slid into the passenger’s seat—Mom and Mrs. Tappen conveniently occupied the back. So they could sit near the baby. Allegedly.

Frowning, she swiveled and looked at each of them in turn, noting the sparkle in their eyes.

They were up to something, and it didn’t take a psychology degree to figure out what.

They could play matchmaker all they wanted. Paige and Jed were not getting back together. Even if she thought they held the slightest chance of starting over, which she didn’t, she had a kid. What man wanted a ready-made family?

He eased into the street and then headed toward the church. “What’ve you been up to? Feel good to be home?”

She cast him a sideways glance, wishing she hadn’t when her heart gave a lurch. “Haven’t been here long. But so far everything’s the same as when I left.”

Stopped at a red light, he looked her way and held her gaze. “Maybe not everything.”

What did that mean?

The conversation between her mom and Mrs. Tappen stilled, making Paige uneasy. Like they were all in on something and she was the odd man out. Or the target. Probably both.

Could Jed sense the tension? The not-so-subtle conniving the two older women were engaged in?

Paige watched houses blur into streaks of tan and blue outside her window. Until the uncomfortable stretch of silence became unbearable. “What about you? You working for your dad at his law firm?”

A tendon in his jaw twitched. “Nope. Got my business degree instead.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Really? What’d he say about that?”

“He wasn’t too happy about it. Still isn’t, but I couldn’t see myself sitting in a courtroom all day, helping people fight each other. Besides, I’ve never been a bookworm or an orator. Seems a man needs to be both for lawyering.”

“That’s good. That you figured out what you wanted, I mean. Stood up for yourself.” He’d always said he felt forced into a mold three sizes too small.

Mom and Ava began singing the alphabet song in the back. Jed joined in for a few lines. He shot her a goofy smile with his eyes crinkled, like he had countless times before, whenever he was on the cusp of a prank or about to share a joke. He’d always been quick to embark on some adventure, one he often tried to finagle her into.

“Are you happy?” The question came out before she could censor it, before she realized how much she longed to know his answer.

“I’ve been making out all right. Staying busy.”

“He bought half my business.” Mrs. Tappen reached forward and gave his arm a squeeze. “We’re partners now, isn’t that right?”

He nodded with his grin widening as his deep brown eyes swept in her direction.

“Speaking of—” his grandmother strained forward so her head poked between their seats “—didn’t you want to talk with her about something?”

Jed sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He gave another nod, slower this time. “Been meaning to—ah—to finish the conversation we started the other day.”

She tensed, anticipating where the discussion was headed, as they pulled into the church parking lot. Women in pastel and floral dresses walked between the cars with their shiny-faced kiddos in tow. She recognized almost all of them.

Jed parked and swiveled to face her. “About that job... Have you given it more thought? We’d love if you’d write our scripts, press releases and other marketing stuff.”

He went on to tell her about his plans to turn his grandparents’ old theater, the one they’d poured their hearts into for decades, into some sort of Wild West–themed dinner theater. What did Mrs. Tappen think about all of that? If his plans failed, she’d lose her business, her husband’s legacy.

“Can’t pay a whole lot, but the hours would be flexible.” Jed tugged at his earlobe, a nervous habit she remembered well. That was how she knew when he was about to ask her something, or to do something. Like before he’d kissed her that first time. “Imagine nothing near what you’re used to. The turnaround would be pretty quick, but the work would be steady enough. We’d like to keep our shows new, fresh.”

“Least it’d be something,” her mother chimed in while unbuckling Ava from her car seat.

Paige winced inwardly. As true as her mom’s statement was, it only reminded her of how broke and unemployed she was. But she tried to maintain a strong, confident smile.

“I appreciate the offer.” She grabbed her purse from off the floorboard. “But I’m a journalist. I really doubt I have the skill set you’re looking for.” She reached for the door. “We ready?”

“Absolutely.” Mom exited the vehicle. “Come on, pumpkin.” She scooped up Ava and then lingered near Paige’s door.

Jed and Mrs. Tappen got out at the same time, and the latter rounded the front of the truck.

“Just mull it over, sugar.” She squeezed Paige’s hand. “No need to answer today.”

“I’ll do that.” She could think about it all day, all week for that matter. Her answer wouldn’t change. If anything, the notion made her all the more determined to find another journalism job.

As much as she loved Mrs. Tappen, and as kind as her offer was, Paige refused to be anyone’s rescue project.

* * *

In church, Jed tried to concentrate on the message, but his thoughts kept shifting to Paige, who was sitting between Grandma and her mom. Underneath her firm smiles and curt replies sat a deeply wounded woman, one who, if he were to guess, probably felt as if life were stacked against her.

Hadn’t he said she wouldn’t go for the writing gig? If not for Grandma’s prodding, he never would’ve asked. But he’d hoped she would, if only to spend time with her. To catch a glimpse of the sweet, tenderhearted girl that chased after lightning bugs and spent hours watching for shooting stars.

He knew things had been rough after her dad had left. Her mom had slipped into a scary depression, but Paige had acted like Jed was the enemy. Or had she simply grown leery of all men, marking him guilty by association?

Didn’t matter. She wasn’t interested. From the sound of it, she didn’t plan on sticking around Sage Creek long enough, nor could he offer her a financial incentive to stay. Not to mention she had a kid. As adorable as little Ava was, Jed wasn’t ready to be a dad.

The pastor closed in prayer, and everyone stood.

“Guess that’s it, then.” Jed grabbed his Stetson from the pew beside him and repositioned it on his head.

“Paige Cordell!” They turned to see Lucy Carr, head of the cultural committee, heading toward them. She wore a pink dress and matching hat. “I haven’t seen you in ages.” She pulled a stiff-looking Paige into a hug, then grabbed hold of her hands and stepped back. “Look at you, all grown-up. I heard you and your munchkin were back in town.”

Paige visibly tensed as a few of Trinity Faith’s quilting gals gathered around, tossing off questions so fast, it made even Jed’s head hurt.

“Where’s that precious baby your mama talks about so much?”

Mrs. Cordell inched into the circle. “In the nursery. Having a blast with that mischievous grandson of yours, I imagine.”

Lucy laughed. “I’ll bet. Keeps his mama on her toes, that one.” She faced Paige. “You and my daughter need to reconnect. Let your little ones get to know one another. Matter of fact, the Friday Faith gals are having their monthly craft night this week. You should come.”

“Uh...” Paige hesitated. “What time?”

“Seven o’clock sharp. Speaking of time, I best get going. I’ve got a committee meeting this afternoon to talk about our plans for the annual father-daughter dance.” She hugged Paige, Paige’s mom and Jed’s grandma in turn. The other ladies followed suit in a comical display of Trinity Faith affection.