Still uncertain, he lifted a brow. “For what?”
Her smile was a playful one. “You’ll see. Unfortunately, you probably won’t be able to reuse it, so I’ll have to buy you some more.”
“Don’t worry about it. If this party is a success, it’ll be worth it.”
By the time the kids had finished their meals, Paisley had toilet paper rolls stacked in a pyramid on the coffee table.
“All right, ladies. Y’all come on in here.”
“What’s with the toilet paper?” Mac appeared more than a little skeptical.
“We’re going to have a toilet paper fashion show.”
Crockett’s weren’t the only set of eyebrows that went up.
“Each of you will be given a roll of toilet paper and you will have thirty minutes to create a runway-worthy outfit with it. So, you all put your heads together, get creative and let’s see what you can come up with. Because there will be prizes.”
The girls all looked at each other. “Cool!”
They each grabbed a roll of toilet paper.
“Oh,” Paisley added, holding up a finger, “and be prepared to strike your best model pose when you show off your creation.”
The girls hurried down the hallway to Mac’s room.
“David, do you want to play, too?” Paisley held up a roll of paper.
He adamantly shook his head. “Dad, can I watch TV in your room?”
“Go ahead, buddy.”
David started to leave, then paused. “Ms. Paisley, could I have some more macaroni and cheese balls?”
“Of course you can. Just don’t get any crumbs on your dad’s bed.”
As his son disappeared into the hallway behind the kitchen, Crockett watched Paisley clear plates and cups from the table. “You never miss a beat, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing ruffles you. Instead, you move seamlessly from one thing to the next.”
She dropped a stack of plates into the trash can. “Oh, I do plenty of ruffling. Didn’t you see me last night?”
“Yes. Though I still don’t know why.” He hesitated for a split second, hoping she might elaborate. When she didn’t, he went on. “But the running late, the rain, coming up with something fun for the girls to do—I still can’t believe they went for the toilet paper thing, by the way. Even with David. Making him aware of the crumbs in a way that wasn’t demeaning. You’re patient, and your attention to detail is impeccable. Yet you make it look so simple.”
“I’ve learned to be adaptable. And I’ll take eight twelve-year-old girls over one bridezilla any day. Kids are much easier to please. Besides, they’re with their friends, so they’re going to have a ball no matter what they do. I need you to help me set up a catwalk, though. And we’ll need some music.”
“What kind of music?”
“Runway model music, of course.”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
The corners of her mouth lifted. “I’ll get my phone.”
Thirty minutes later, the girls were strutting a path across his living room in their toilet paper garb. One girl looked like a mummy. And every last one of them was laughing and having the time of her life. If Paisley hadn’t been here, they probably would have been in front of the television, staring blankly at the screen instead of interacting with each other. But thanks to her, they were genuinely having fun. The kind of fun that memories were made of.
Crockett watched Paisley as she presented the prizes—cellophane bags filled with a variety of candies and tied with ribbon—thinking how blessed Mackenzie and David were to have her in their lives.
What about you?
Paisley was a remarkable woman. Any guy would be blessed to have someone like her at their side. But she was out of his league. If he even had a league.
He gave himself a stern shake. What was he thinking? He didn’t even want to play the game. Been there, done that, had the scars to prove it. Deep, ugly scars that made women like Paisley run away.
Mac and David might benefit from Paisley’s attention. They were worth loving. But Crockett was another story. Notions of being anything other than Paisley’s business partner were a waste of time, so he’d best accept it and move on down the road.
Chapter Eight
Paisley stared out the windows at the back of the castle Monday morning, her arms wound around her stomach, trying to hold herself together. The rain had started yesterday afternoon and continued ever since, intensifying overnight.
A weather alert on her phone had awakened her at three thirty this morning. When she’d looked at the screen and saw it was a river flood warning, she’d bolted out of bed, ready to head to the castle. It had flooded in the past, who’s to say it wouldn’t happen again. Everything on the first floor would have to be moved upstairs, just in case. Boxes, furniture...
She was already dressed and about to leave when Crockett called and all but ordered her to stay put. Though she’d tried to argue, his reminder that she wouldn’t be able to see anything since there was no electricity had her acquiescing. So she killed time the only way she knew how. Baking.
Rae was surprised when she’d dropped off the oatmeal raisin and classic tollhouse cookies, along with some blond brownies, shortly after the café’s six o’clock opening. It was there Paisley had run into Deputy Herne, who informed them flooding was already occurring upstream and it was only a matter of time before Bliss met the same fate. When he’d added that it was going to get even worse once they opened the floodgates in Austin, Paisley couldn’t wait anymore.
Armed with a couple of flashlights and an LED lantern she kept for emergencies, she went to the castle. Though the sun had risen almost thirty minutes prior, between the rain and the darkened skies it was nearly impossible to see exactly where the water was. Since it had yet to reach the terrace, she’d texted Crockett to bring some sandbags, then began moving boxes of books upstairs to the ballroom.
Now, a little more than an hour later, with her muscles already protesting, she’d paused at the windows for another evaluation. In the four years she’d lived in Bliss, she’d never seen the river this high. Her insides twisted as the tempestuous waters inched up the lawn. And the rain showed no sign of letting up.
Checking the radar on her phone, she noted that the entire region was one giant red blob. How much longer would they have?
With a frustrated breath, she returned to her work. Where was Crockett? He should be here by now. They needed to sandbag the doors and move furniture. Grabbing a side chair in each hand, she started up the stairs. Lord, please don’t allow the castle to be compromised. I can’t bear to see another dream die.
“Paisley?” Crockett’s voice drifted from downstairs as she deposited the chairs in the ballroom.
“Coming.” She descended the steps to find him at the back windows. “We’ve got a lot to do and not much time to do it. Did you get the sandbags?”
“That’s what took me so long.” He faced her as she came alongside him. “I had to stop by the hardware store. Fortunately, Christa was on top of things and her crew already had pallets of them filled and ready to go.”
“Good, because as you can see—” she motioned to the scene outside “—we’re going to need them.”
He pulled off his rain jacket. “All right, then let’s get to work.”
They started with the furniture. The drop-leaf table in the library along with the two wingback chairs took both their efforts to move, as did the settee in the drawing room, the dining table and the sofa, upholstered chairs and coffee table in the family room. The knight’s armor from the entry hall had been their greatest challenge. Not only was it heavy, it was precarious, to say the least.
By the time they’d finished with those items, Paisley was spent, yet there was still more to do. Looking at her watch, she was stunned to see that
it was almost noon. She joined Crockett at a window. Water had leached onto the terrace.
“Can you get the rest of the furniture while I focus on the kitchen?”
“Yep. We’d better work fast.” He went one way while she went the other.
No matter how exhausted she was, she couldn’t afford to stop. Time was not on their side.
She’d emptied one cabinet when Crockett blew through the swinging door. “We have to get out of here.”
Looking up from her position on the floor, she sent him a frustrated look. “Why?”
“They’ve opened the floodgates in Austin.”
“Okay, but that won’t reach us for at least twenty-four hours.” She closed the cabinet door and stood. “I’ve barely touched the kitchen.”
“Leave it.”
“I can’t do that. I have to at least try to save this stuff.”
“There’s nothing of value in here.”
“How do you know?”
Annoyance pinched his brow as he stormed out the door.
Fine, let him be upset. She opened the next cupboard and grabbed another box. Just because Crockett was willing to give up so easily, didn’t mean she had to. The Renwicks had entrusted the castle to her care, and she would treat it as though it belonged to her.
Midway through the third cabinet, her phone rang. She pulled it from her back pocket to see Molly’s name on the screen. “Hello.”
“Paisley, dear. Crockett apprised me of the situation in Bliss.”
Her ire sparked. How dare he go tattling to Molly like a little boy. Sure, she needed to be kept abreast of the situation, she was the owner after all, but Paisley had planned to do that after everything had been relocated.
“I admire and appreciate your willingness to preserve Renwick Castle and its contents, however your life is much more valuable than the castle or anything in it. Do not put your life in danger trying to save worthless items.”
Worthless? How could Molly say that? The castle was her legacy.
Crockett had obviously exaggerated the situation.
“No, of course not, Molly. I’m simply working to preserve everything I can.”
“Crockett says they’ve released water from a dam upstream.”
“That won’t reach us for until tomorrow.” Her battle right now was against the water currently encroaching.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
There was a long pause. “All right. As long as you promise to exercise common sense.”
Ending the call, Paisley went to find Crockett, eager to give him a piece of her mind. She moved into the entry hall and spotted him midway up the stairs with her last stack of empty boxes.
“I need those.”
“No, you don’t.” He continued up the steps and disappeared around the corner. A moment later he reemerged. “You’re done packing.” He strode down the steps. “We need to leave.”
She moved to the windows to again assess things. The water hadn’t moved that much. She still had time.
Turning, she glared at Crockett. “You’re overreacting. It’s not like there’s going to be some big wall of water sweeping through here like in the movies.”
Hands perched on his hips, he glared back at her. “Have you ever been in a flood?”
“No.”
“Then you have no idea how powerful moving water can be. Six inches will make it tough for you to walk to your vehicle without falling. A foot can float the vehicle. We have to get out of here while we still can.”
Obviously, he didn’t care about the castle as much as she did. He was blowing things out of proportion to try and scare her. Well, if he wanted to be a quitter, then so be it. But she was no quitter. She believed in fighting for what she wanted. Fighting for her dream. Something she never had the opportunity to do that dreadful Saturday five years ago when Peter and Logan were ripped away from her.
Tears filled her eyes. Unwilling to let Crockett see them, she turned back to the window. “Then you go. I have to stay and fight.” Despite her blurred vision, she could see that the water now covered the terrace. How could it happen so fast?
“There is no fight, Paisley. Not against the forces of nature. We simply have to walk away and pray for the best.”
“Walk away? Maybe you can do that, but I can’t.” A mixture of anger, exhaustion and frustration had her body trembling as tears spilled onto her cheeks. “What if something happens? What if I lose the castle like I lost Peter and Logan?” Her tears fell in earnest then, and she found herself cloaked in embarrassment. Had she actually said that out loud?
Though she refused to look at him, she knew the moment Crockett stepped in front of her. Seconds later, he enveloped her in his arms. Holding her close, he whispered soothing words and caressed her back.
She melted against him, allowing herself to savor his warmth and strength. And oh, how she missed it when he stepped back and looked her in the eye.
He brushed the hair away from her face. “Sweetheart, if Peter were here, I’m sure he would be telling you the same thing I am. He wouldn’t allow you to put yourself in danger, and I’m not going to either. So you can walk out of here with me or I can carry you, but I cannot let you stay here any longer.”
Paisley knew he was right. But she wasn’t ready to admit defeat.
As if on cue, water began lapping at sandbags he’d placed outside the door. She’d done all she could and yet it wasn’t enough. Unless God intervened, the castle would flood.
Her shoulders sagged as fresh tears blurred her vision. “I’ll move that last box. Then we can go.”
* * *
Wanting to make certain Paisley made it home safely, Crockett followed her back to her place. Under normal circumstances, he would have driven her and come back later. But today he feared her vehicle might not be there when they came back.
Despite the windshield wipers slapping back and forth at a frenzied pace, he still found it difficult to see. Thankfully, Paisley’s house wasn’t that far away.
What if I lose the castle like I lost Peter and Logan?
Crockett had never been a hero kind of guy, wanting to swoop in and save the damsel in distress, but seeing Paisley’s tears and hearing the pain in her voice had him wanting to not only protect her, but take away her pain. Paisley was a strong woman, perhaps one of the strongest women he’d ever met. She had to be to endure losing her spouse and her child. So to see her that defeated was unexpected, to say the least. And it had completely messed with his brain.
When they arrived at Paisley’s, she drove into the garage while he parked behind her in the drive. He grabbed an umbrella and held it over her as she stepped into the rain. Despite the torrent, her steps were slow. He kept pace with her, glad they were both wearing rubber boots.
Her hands shook as she attempted to unlock the back door. He placed a steadying hand over hers and twisted the dead bolt.
Inside, she shrugged out of her raincoat. “I think I’ll make some coffee.” Rubbing her arms, she looked up at him. “Would you care for some? Or do you need to get home to the kids?”
He wasn’t going anywhere until he knew she’d be okay. “The kids are fine with Ashley. And coffee would be great.”
Paisley pulled coffee and a filter from the cupboard to the left of the sink, her hands still shaky. When she almost dropped the glass carafe, he stepped in.
“Why don’t you sit down. I can take care of this.”
Her smile was weak, and he was surprised when she said, “Thank you.”
Instead of heading for the table or the living room, she disappeared into the laundry room and returned moments later, wrapped in a bulky sweater. She continued toward the table, releasing the clip from her hair, sending her coppery waves spilling around her shoulders.
He found himself wondering if they w
ere as soft as they looked. Then chided himself for thinking something so crazy.
Retrieving two mugs from the same cupboard the coffee was in, he said, “Cream or sugar?”
“There’s creamer in the refrigerator.”
After locating it, he joined her at the table.
She added a small amount of the vanilla-flavored cream, wrapped her long fingers around the Georgia Bulldogs mug and watched the dark liquid turn a pale brown. “We were getting ready to leave for vacation. Logan had been begging Peter and me to take him to Disney World ever since he was old enough to know what it was.”
Crockett wasn’t sure where that had come from or why Paisley had decided to share it with him. Normally he’d shy away from something so personal, not to mention emotional. Yet he found himself wanting her to share. Wanting her to know that he was there for her.
“I’d stayed up late the night before, doing laundry and packing,” she continued. “When I woke up the next morning, Peter had left a note on my bathroom mirror, letting me know that he and Logan had gone to Krispy Kreme and they’d be back soon.”
She sipped her coffee. “I showered and got ready for the day, and when they still weren’t back I called Peter, but he didn’t answer. The trip shouldn’t have taken them more than twenty to thirty minutes, depending on the line, and it had been almost an hour since I’d found the note. So I kept calling, but it kept going to voice mail.” Her gaze shifted to the window, and she simply stared. “Finally, I got into my car and drove the route I knew they would have taken. A block before the doughnut shop, I saw flashing lights. And as I slowed down, I saw a tangled heap of metal wrapped around a light pole in the median. I slammed my car into Park, not caring that I was in the middle of the road, and hurried toward the wreckage. An officer stopped me. I told him that was my husband’s car and that he and my son had gone to get doughnuts.”
Her shoulders lifted briefly as she drew in a shaky breath. “I will never forget the look on the officer’s face as it morphed from intense to sympathetic. And then his voice cracked when he said, ‘I’m sorry, ma’am.’”
A Future to Fight For Page 10
