Georgia Sweethearts

“Even better news is Cricket has finally agreed to see a psychiatrist about the depression.”

“I’m glad. I should probably follow up with her parents, to make sure she goes. I’m uncomfortable waiting a week before we meet again.”

A sense of unease over Cricket wouldn’t let up. He decided to call her mom in the morning to offer assistance. Then, he’d regroup and figure out a way to convince Lilly Barnes that renting out her basement could benefit them both.

* * *

Lilly walked in the front door of her sister and brother-in-law’s house, her temporary home, tension knotting her gut over what she’d find inside. As if concern over the yarn shop hadn’t already tied her stomach tightly enough.

“I’m home,” she called. Both Jenna’s and Ned’s vehicles were there. Which meant potential for an evening of arguing.

The cool, dark entry hall enveloped her. Quiet. A good sign. Maybe she’d dreaded coming inside for no reason. Maybe tonight would be one of the good nights.

As she hung up her coat in the closet, her stomach started to relax. Then a bedroom door slammed down the hallway of the tiny two-bedroom rental. Behind the closed door, voices raised, one high-pitched, the other low.

Jenna and Ned.

She considered slipping out to go to a restaurant, but then a whimper came from the family room.

Will.

She headed toward the sound and found her ten-month-old nephew standing in the exercise saucer, leaning over, trying to reach a toy on the floor.

“Hey, sweet thing. Did you drop your doggie?”

Will’s big brown eyes lit up, and he gave her a slobbery grin that made her feel like the most important person in the world. He sprang up and down on his chunky little legs as he raised his arms to her, straining for all he was worth.

She pulled him up and out of his seat and kissed the top of his head, the silky brown curls tickling her nose, the powdery scent of baby shampoo calming her. Then she handed him his toy. “Let’s go see what’s for dinner.”

The voices down the hall escalated, but Will didn’t flinch. Apparently, he’d grown accustomed to his parents arguing. Like she and Jenna had grown accustomed to their parents arguing. Or so she’d told herself.

Lilly blew out a huge sigh as she headed toward the kitchen, wishing that she could as easily exhale all the old memories and be rid of them permanently.

Jenna pretended all was well in the Jones household, but Lilly knew better. And from what she’d observed, she feared Jenna and Ned might not be able to work out their differences. Jenna refused to go to marriage counseling. Why couldn’t she see she’d snagged a decent guy worth fighting for? He was a good father, a hardworking firefighter who loved Jenna. If not for Ned’s help, they couldn’t have managed repairing the yarn shop building.

Yet, Jenna seemed to have checked out, sabotaging the relationship, just like she had every other one. Lilly hoped Ned would be patient and not give up on his wife.

Though the tiny kitchen’s countertop was stacked with a day’s worth of dirty dishes, Jenna had left a pot of chili simmering on the stovetop. Two jars of unopened baby food sat on the high chair tray beside a clean bib. “Looks like you and me, kid. Dinner for two. Although I’ll pass on your smooshed-up peas.”

She placed him in his chair and snapped the bib in place. The spicy steam wafted her way, making her stomach growl, but she needed to feed Will first.

As she opened the jars of food, he banged the tray and started to fuss. “Eee!” His impatient version of eat.

He cranked up a pitiful wail. A splash of Cheerios on his tray appeased his appetite and allowed for independence as his little fingers snagged the oat circles he loved. Since he usually spit out half of what she fed him, she’d learned to distract him with the cereal while she tried to sneak in some vegetables and meat.

They’d managed some success with her method when she heard Ned’s heavy footsteps coming down the hall toward the kitchen.

He walked in, cheeks high in color, dark, wavy hair disheveled. “Hi, Lilly.” He kissed his son on the head. Wiped a smear of sweet potatoes off Will’s cheek. “Eat like a good boy. Daddy’s got to go to work.”

She couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room. “Ned, I’d be glad to move out if it would help. I don’t want my presence to cause additional strain for you two.”

His cheeks flushed redder. His dark brown eyes darted around the room as if he was embarrassed by her comment. “No. Stay. You’re good for her, and for Will, too. It’s just...” He ruffled Will’s hair as his throat bobbed up, then down. “I’ll see y’all later.”

Her appetite followed him right out the door.

Jenna walked in the kitchen shortly after, her pretty green eyes red and swollen. She wore sweatpants and a faded, holey college T-shirt. “Thanks for feeding Will,” she said as she grabbed a bowl and ladled out a small portion of chili. Enough for a mouse.

“You need to eat more.”

“I can’t.”

“What’d y’all argue about this time?”

“Nothing.”

“That nothing made you cry.”

Jenna plopped the bowl onto the scratched pressed-wood table and slid into her chair. She’d forgotten a spoon but didn’t seem to notice. Lilly got up to get one, waiting for her to talk.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the spoon, then proceeding to shove the chili around the bowl, never taking a single bite.

“I’ll feed you, too, if I have to.”

That drew a little smile. “We can’t agree on anything. He wants to spend. I want to save. He wants to buy a house. I want to rent a little longer. He wants to go to church on Sundays. I want to stay home and have family time. He wants another baby. I don’t.”

Lilly wasn’t a professional therapist, but she understood that with her and Jenna’s family history, trust was an issue. Jenna’s actions all pointed to someone who was afraid to believe her relationship had a future. “Sounds like maybe you should go with him to talk to a marriage counselor.”

“That’s not going to help at this point.” She nibbled a tiny bite, enough to nourish a flea. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Will banged on the high chair and squealed, ready to get up and move again. They’d somehow managed to get most of the two jars of food into his stomach with only a small percentage landing on his bib and in his hair. Success, in Lilly’s opinion.

Jenna got to her feet to reach for Will, but Lilly pushed her sister back into her chair. “I’ll get him. You need to eat or you won’t do him any good.”

As Lilly stood at the kitchen sink waiting for the water to warm to wipe Will’s hands and face, Jenna withdrew into her own world.

Time to distract her from her thoughts. “I had a visitor to the shop today. Daniel Foreman, Ann’s grandson.”

“Hmm?”

“Daniel Foreman. He came to the shop today.”

Jenna turned toward Lilly, her eyes refocusing in the present. “Oh, he’s the pastor who started the new church. What’d he want?”

“He claims Aunt Talitha agreed to rent out the basement as a meeting space for the church.” She reached for Will’s hands to wipe them before he latched onto her hair. “Did you know anything about it?”

“No.” Jenna propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm. She looked totally forlorn. “That’s the church Ned’s been attending, wanting me to visit. I can’t say I’d relish having them around. They already tie up too much of his time.”

So much for taking her mind off her marital problems. “I don’t see how they could rent it until we finish the space, and we can’t afford that right now.”

“They’d be there all the time—apparently they’re pretty active with the community service projects all week long. Ned’s mentioned some kind of after-school mentoring program. He’s volunteering with a food pantry and a clothes closet ministry.” She rolled her eyes. “Reminded me of that old busybody neighbor we had, Mrs. What’s-Her-Name, who brought us clothes and reported Mom and Dad to the social worker.”

Humiliation nearly two-decades old stung Lilly’s face as if the act had happened yesterday. Mrs. Wiley had come from across the street with a bag of new dollar-store shorts and tops and, within viewing and hearing range of other neighbor kids, wrinkled her nose in disgust and offered to wash Lilly and Jenna’s clothing for them since their parents didn’t seem to care.

Even if the woman’s intentions had been good, she’d carried out the act of charity in a scarring manner. And set their dad on course to uproot and move his family once again, tearing them away from some good people of a local church who had been quietly helping her and Jenna—people who’d shown them kindness and love.

Old anger burned like acid in Lilly’s stomach. “I’ve done some figuring. If we hold a few small knitting classes upstairs, we’ll generate income from fees and selling the supplies. We should be able to get by until we can afford to renovate the basement to hold larger classes.”

“Who’d teach?”

Lilly eyed her sister for evidence she was poking fun, and immediately thought of Daniel, teasing, promising to come back to see her knitting. She ignored the warm, cozy feeling and checked her sister’s face. Not a hint of a smile. “I don’t know. But I’ll work on it. In the meantime, I’m going to check Aunt Talitha’s records for any information on the agreement with Daniel.”

Jenna pushed away her barely touched bowl and wiped her mouth. “You know, that rent money would be a sure thing.”

“Yeah, but we’d have to spend a lot to get there. Besides, building a sense of community is important for our type of business. I’d rather ask Ned to help us get started on finishing the basement, to create a place for customers to hang out. That way, there’s no deadline and no rush. Volunteer labor, of course, until we can afford—”

“He’s gone.”

A frisson of alarm passed over her. Surely Jenna didn’t mean that in the way it sounded. Surely he’d just left for work. “What do you mean, gone?”

Jenna looked up, her pain-filled eyes welling with tears. “Ned can’t help us with the store anymore. He left me.”

Chapter Two

Armed with two lists, Daniel headed to The Yarn Barn the next day, trying to keep his promise to his grandmother. He hoped to at least get a peek at the basement to see if it was as ideal a setting as Gran had asserted. Though he wouldn’t push Lilly and her sister, he did need to find the church a new location soon.

His first list included all the advantages of allowing the church to rent—including the idea for the church to renovate the space—as well as the perks they would offer.

The second list was extra incentive. An evaluation of her store’s current visibility in the community, along with suggestions to increase exposure. Might as well use his marketing expertise to help.

He pulled into the gravel parking lot and got a good look at the place in daylight. Granted, the building was old. But the structure, painted barn red, with a sloping roof and white trim, had charm. Was quaint and welcoming.

Wind chimes jingled as he walked in, something new she’d added since his visit yesterday.

“May I help— Oh. Daniel,” she said, voice flat. Disappointed. She may as well have said, oh, it’s just you.

He considered her attitude a challenge.

“Hello, Lilly.” For the first time, he noticed one whole wall lined with cubbyholes packed with yarn of every color. “The store’s certainly well stocked.”

“Our aunt’s inventory was depleted when we came on board. We had to place a large order of supplies.” Her sad gaze darted away as she ran her hand over a closed laptop computer, wiping away invisible dust. “Can I help you find something? A gift for your grandmother, maybe?”

If a sale would put him in her good graces... “Uh, sure. Do you have a nice scarf?”

Pushing long, dark hair behind one ear, she winced. “I’m afraid I don’t have many finished items left. A couple hats. A pair of children’s mittens.” Her expression brightened as she came from behind the counter. “I remember Aunt Talitha talking about Ann knitting. Maybe I can interest you in some yarn. Along with a new pattern book?”

The hopeful look in her eyes smacked him in the gut. “I need to come clean. I didn’t really come in to buy a gift. I stopped by to talk business.”

Her eyes shot sparks as they focused all her ire on him. “Thank goodness you’re honest, Reverend.”

Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on him. Though he deserved the censure, he had to battle a smile. With her big greenish-brown eyes and rosy cheeks, she had to be the prettiest angry woman he’d ever seen. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t look sorry.”

“I’m sorry. For not looking sorry, that is.” A chuckle rumbled out before he could stop it. When she glared harder, he added, “Sorry.”

Before she could say anything else, he held up a hand. “I couldn’t help it. You’re just so beautiful when you’re mad.”

She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and shook her head. “Words a woman longs to hear. Now...since I don’t want to talk business with you unless you’re here to buy yarn, I suggest you leave before you make me truly angry and find out how utterly gorgeous I can be.”

Even though he knew it would probably blow up in his face, he couldn’t help the grin that formed. “I like you, Lilly Barnes. I hope you’ll let me look at your basement and then listen to my offer.”

She crossed her arms but didn’t throw him out.

“We would pay rent, of course,” he said quickly. “And to sweeten the deal, we’d do any work you need to finish the basement, deducting the cost of materials out of the rent. Labor would be donated by church members, the teenagers I’m mentoring...and me.”

Something akin to interest flashed across her face.

He held up the paper with his first list. “The names of five women in my congregation who knit or crochet. Two said they’d be willing to teach you. My grandmother might even be persuaded to teach a class for you if you give her a call. She taught for Talitha when she opened the shop.”

“Bribery, huh? I have to say, you’ve caught my attention.”

“I prefer to think of it as incentive.” Incentive to follow through with her aunt’s promise.

She nodded toward a door at the back of the shop. “It couldn’t hurt to let you look.”

One small victory. He tried not to irritate her with a smile.

She led the way down a set of steps into a cool, damp space. Definitely needed dehumidifiers. But it was a nice large space that would easily hold some tables and fifty chairs. The walls were finished, but they’d need to paint and put in a drop ceiling. Add more lighting. Maybe build a small room for an office that she could later convert to a storage closet.

A plan began to take shape. He couldn’t imagine her wanting to deal with the renovation on her own. “It wouldn’t be too difficult to make the basement functional.”

“Looks dreary to me,” she said. “Lots of work to make it livable.”

He squatted down to check for moisture on a crack in the cement floor. “I’ve been on several mission trips. This is a piece of cake compared to what I’ve worked on.”

“We still plan to hold classes down here at some point. I wouldn’t want the space tied up indefinitely.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if trying to warm herself.

With the winter cold outside, he’d have to beef up the heating system, as well. “If ‘indefinitely’ is the problem, we can put an end date on the contract. And maybe work out a way to share the space so you can hold classes if you’re ready sooner than expected.”

Surely, he’d tempted her with his offer.

She looked around the room, her hazel eyes more brown than green in the dim lighting. Dark, mysterious eyes...beautiful. Beauty wasn’t what drew him to her, though. He’d like to get to know her better and, since they’d gotten off on the wrong foot, to make her change her mind about him.

She shivered. “This business ownership is all very new. I’m still looking at my aunt’s records, figuring out the financials. I’d like time to look through her paperwork to see if she mentioned the agreement.”

“Let’s go upstairs. It’s too cold to talk down here.”

When they got to the heated area, she rubbed her hands together and the tension eased out of her shoulders.

The warmth made him relax, as well. Though the seating area was small and had those rickety folding chairs, she’d done a nice job making it as homey and comfortable as possible. That, and the rainbow of colors from the wall of yarn, made it a place customers would enjoy spending time. And money.

Should he bring up his second list, his suggestions for marketing?

She shivered again. “Ooh. Goodness.”

“Having trouble getting rid of the damp chill?” He pulled off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. “There. Maybe that’ll help.”

Before he knew it, he was lost in her eyes. He could hardly breathe as she stared back at him.

Confusion clouded her expression, then she looked away...and retreated behind the sales counter. The solid wood structure served as a firm boundary, Lilly wielding it like a shield.

She smiled. An impersonal, dismissive thing. For some reason, he wanted to make her smile for real. Like the first day they met, before he started talking business.

“Well, Daniel, you’ve seen the basement now. Are you sure you still want to lease it?”

“It’ll fit our needs nicely.”

“You’ve made a generous offer. I’ll need to discuss it with Jenna. And I don’t want to make any decisions until I meet with Aunt Talitha’s accountant tomorrow. Is there anything else you need today?”

“Would you go to dinner with me?” Heat blasted from his neck up to his face. Had he really said that out loud?

The shocked look on her face confirmed it.

“To discuss some ideas I’ve had,” he added quickly. “About marketing your shop. It’s what I do...did.” He snapped his mouth shut before he embarrassed himself further.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. Gloriously wavy, brown hair that trailed halfway down her back. “Thank you, though. It’s that...well...life’s a little hectic right now...”

He’d flustered her. Probably messed up everything. He had to do damage control, and quick. “How about coming to our service on Sunday? Meet some folks. I think you’ll find we’d be good tenants.”

If he’d thought she was tense earlier, at the mention of the church service she turned into marble. Whether she physically moved or not, he wasn’t sure, but she’d definitely distanced herself. Had put up a wall.

“Um, no thank you. I help my sister with my nephew whenever I’m not working. Sunday is our day to clean the house.”

Even though he sensed it wouldn’t do any good, he had to try. Maybe if he took away her excuses, she’d tell him the real reason. “We have a nursery worker who watches the younger children. Bring both of them and come.”

She looked all around the room as if searching for an escape route. “Look, you need to know you shouldn’t waste your time preaching to me. What little childhood faith Jenna and I had got crushed out of us by our parents.”

Anger burned in his gut. But he tamped it down. “Were your parents abusive?”

She glanced away. Shook her head. “I pretty much raised Jenna. We were too busy getting by to go to church regularly.”

“I’m sorry.” This time he really meant the words. He hated to think of her and Jenna suffering. “I hope, now that you’re adults, you’ll give worship a try. We have small group meetings, Bible studies and—”

A forced laugh burst out of her, as if she was trying to blow off the painful glimpse of her childhood. “Now I feel like one of your projects.”

The ease with which she dismissed his concern spoke volumes. She was an expert at covering the hurt.

This wasn’t the time to talk business or marketing. “Just know the invitation stands. We’d love to have you anytime. We meet at ten o’clock Sunday mornings at Frank’s Pizza Place, downtown Corinthia.”

“At a restaurant?”

“Yeah. Frank’s a member of the congregation and offered the space. But it’s a tight fit. That, and the noise in the kitchen while they prep for lunch can be distracting.”

A tentative smile revealed a little dimple forming at the left corner of her mouth. She pulled her lips back over her teeth, almost self-consciously. “I imagine growling stomachs distract, as well.”

“Especially mine.”

When she laughed, his heart squeezed in his chest. He suddenly wished...what? That he could keep making her laugh?

She grabbed a cloth at the end of the counter and swiped it over the wooden surface, her dimple still in place. “I can’t keep up with the dust.”

He had no business wanting to make her laugh. He should pray for her, for God to heal her painful past. “I appreciate you showing me around. Hope to see you on Sunday.”

The moment of friendliness ended as she reestablished the barrier, eyes cooling, smile tempering. “Thank you for the information on the church services.”

Her insinuation? Thanks, but no thanks. He suspected she blamed God for her rough childhood. If so, would she ever agree to rent the space to a church?

* * *

Lilly had played phone tag for days before finally getting an appointment to meet with her great-aunt’s accountant, Mr. W. R. Andrews. Afterward, as she escaped his office, she wished she hadn’t bothered.

Jenna, manning the shop but leery of handling customers with a baby to watch, had asked Lilly to take Will with her to the appointment. Which hadn’t made the news easier to swallow.

Working around Will’s warm jacket, she strapped him in his car seat, kissed his cheek then closed herself in the front seat of the car. She shoved her hands into her hair, grabbed hold at the roots and tugged as she voiced the growling sound she’d wanted to make for the past half hour.

Will giggled as if she’d given the funniest performance ever.

Outside the confines of her vehicle, the peaceful little town of Corinthia mocked the turmoil inside her. A grand courthouse sat in the middle of the quaint downtown square, surrounded by little shops, a white-steepled church and a library. But nothing about the picturesque scene could calm her after the meeting she’d just had with Talitha’s tax guy.

She turned to Will. “You’re probably hungry, aren’t you, sweetie? Let’s go eat lunch.”

“Mama.”

“Mommy is working right now.” And would hopefully get in the swing of retail sales with a child around. “You get to eat lunch with me today,” she said with a smile, pitching her voice to reassure a tired, hungry boy who wanted his mommy. And who’d patiently sat through the appointment.

Apparently, Aunt Talitha’s record keeping left a lot to be desired. Nothing had been computerized. She’d thrown receipts in large manila envelopes and just filed them away at the end of each month. Mr. Andrews, a kind, elderly man who had patted Lilly’s hand and tried his best to reassure her, said that Talitha had piled everything in a box and brought it to him to deal with quarterly.

He’d then calmly informed her that he’d had to file for a tax extension while her great aunt had been sick, and that if Lilly would pile everything in a box and bring it to him, he would take care of it.

Her heart raced from thinking about it again. Lilly couldn’t afford to pay him for the hours it would take to wade through hoards of receipts. She needed to get a handle on the finances herself. Pull together the sales numbers and receipts into a file and then take it to Mr. Andrews to prepare the tax forms.

She took a deep, slow breath and tried to push away the worry.

One step at a time. Her job for the afternoon was to dig through all the records and come up with a new bookkeeping system. But only after feeding Will and—

A knock on the car window made her jump.

Daniel. Smiling at her.

His perfectly even, white teeth and movie-star-blue eyes set her on edge. Made her want to temper her own smile to hide the fact she’d never had braces to fix the slight overlap of her two front teeth.