Hometown Series Box Set

by Kirsten Fullmer

  “I agree,” Justin said. “You should give her a chance. She’s a very nice girl. You know that.”

  “I hear you, but I don’t w—want her pity,” Ned grumbled.

  “Oh, I’ve seen how the women in this town look at you,” Elliot said. “And I haven’t seen pity, no indeed.”

  Ned shrugged the comment off, too lost in his own insecurity to understand what Elliot meant. Why couldn’t life be more like work, where you knew the problems, the rules, and the boundaries so that you could face them head on? Why did dealing with women have to be filled with nuances and fancy words?

  Reaching for the drawings, Elliot pulled the stack toward him and put them in order. “Well, as is see it, this pageant is the perfect opportunity to spent time with her and see how it feels.”

  That notion brought some hope to Ned’s expression. “Maybe…”

  Justin chuckled. “Well you can either work with her, or avoid her, because this thing seems to be gathering speed, and Elliot and I are not going to let you off the hook now.”

  Chapter Four

  Ned tossed his copy of the drawings onto the passenger seat of the patrol car and clicked on his seatbelt. Maybe the guys had a point.

  The engine revved, and he looked both ways before pulling away from the curb. If Gloria had the guts to face the wrath of half the town in being on the committee, maybe he could take a chance and see how things went with her. And perhaps he could help her too.

  Driving through town, his practiced eye picked up on every detail of Smithville. Parked cars, shop windows, locked doors, but thoughts of Gloria simmered on the back burner of his mind. He had to admire her tenacity. No matter how many times she got snubbed, she never gave up. He had to give her credit for that. Other than Tara’s friends, no one was nice to her, and that was a shame.

  Seeing Gloria in action made him wonder if he should try harder to be social in Smithville. Sure, everyone knew him as the deputy, but not many knew him as a friend.

  Slowing in front of the café, he saw a parking spot. Easing the car against the curb, his mind spun with possibilities. He’d need help with the sets, and Gloria was always willing to help folks, but she already had her hands full. Maybe he could offer to help her with the costumes. His sighed as he stepped from the car, ducking into the wind. He didn’t know a damn thing about sewing, so that wasn’t likely.

  Bells jangled over the door as he stepped into the café, and Marge looked up from behind the counter. What else was involved with the costumes, apart from sewing? He frowned, wishing he’d paid better attention at the committee meeting. What all had Gloria offered to do?

  He eased onto a stool, completely ignoring Willie, perched on his usual stool at the end of the bar. Absently, Ned stared toward the kitchen, his mind spinning with the idea of Gloria helping him paint sets. He could see it. It was late, and he and Gloria were alone, in dim light, at the old city garage. The space heater would be chugging but not offering enough warmth, and Gloria would shudder with cold. He’d slip his jacket around her shoulders, and she’d look up at him, her eyes wide with surprise. He wouldn’t need to say anything, she’d understand, and she’d smile a slow, easy smile. He’d glance at her lips, and the paintbrush would drop from her fingers. He’d reach for her and—

  “What on earth has you all befuddled?” Marge demanded with one hand on her hip.

  Jerked from his daydream, it took a moment for Ned’s eyes to focus on the wrinkled face of the waitress. Even her blinking Christmas tree pin didn’t detract from her expression. He mumbled an incoherent answer, yanking a menu from behind the saltshakers on the counter.

  With her chin up, she inspected him through her reading glasses. “This is new.”

  Ignoring the motherly figure staring at him, Ned glared at the menu.

  “This ain’t nothing,” Willie said. “My mommy said all I did as a kid was daydream.”

  Marge tossed him an irritated glance.

  “Well, that’s what she said,” the old man muttered, frowning down at his coffee mug.

  Marge focused back on Ned. “Come on.” She chuckled, “You know every item on that menu. Look at me.”

  The woman’s motherly demand hit home, so Ned glanced up, then immediately wished he hadn’t. Color flooded his cheeks, and his gaze dropped again. With a huff, he pushed aside the menu. “What’s the special?”

  “Meatloaf,” she answered, her expression still speculative. Then she raised her hand to shield her words. “But you know how I feel about Bud’s meatloaf.”

  He grimaced. “Right. Well… Just b—bring me a chef salad and a b—big glass of water.”

  She didn’t move.

  “Please?” he added, with a hint of desperation in his voice.

  Marge pulled a face but finally turned away. Her tennis shoes squeaked on the black and white tile floor as she headed for the kitchen. “Load up a salad!” she yelled to the cook, causing Ned and Willie to both flinch at the shout.

  * * *

  The sound of crinkling paper caused Tara’s head to whip up. Dropping her pencil, she sprung from her chair and hurried around the table to the highchair. Isabelle looked up at her mother and offered a toothless grin as she waved handfuls of crumpled and torn newspaper she’d snatched from the nearby counter.

  “I’m so sorry,” Tara apologized to Julia as she pried open her daughter’s now black fingers. “She’s so fast; I can’t keep up with her. I should have known better than to bring her.”

  Julia smiled lovingly. “Nonsense. She can tear up newspaper any time she wants. I was saving it for kindling anyway.” The slight blonde woman rose from her chair and circled the table with her arms outstretched. “Come to Auntie Julia, you sweet thing,” she cooed. Even though everyone in Smithville considered themselves Isabelle’s auntie, Julia had always figured she was closer to the real thing. She was one of Tara’s closest friends after all. “You’re just too cute, aren’t you,” she said to the happy baby as she unbuckled her from the chair, lifted her out, and headed down the hall. “Let’s go get those hands washed, shall we?”

  As Julia’s voice faded, Tara turned back to the ladies around the table. “Where were we?”

  Gloria lifted her notepad and checked the previous page. “We had just finished listing the women making baked goods.”

  “Right,” Tara muttered as she glanced once more past the lovely vintage style Christmas tree, toward the hallway of Julia’s Victorian house, where the sounds of splashing water and baby giggles echoed. Finally, she focused back on the women before her. “What’s next on the agenda?”

  “I was going to update you on the costumes,” Gloria said, retrieving her bag from the floor. “I brought some sketches and pictures. They’re coming along nicely; I hope you approve.”

  “I’m sure they’re perfect,” Winnie said, accepting the handful of sketches from Gloria and adjusting her reading glasses on the end of her nose. “You do such lovely work.”

  “It’s like you’re good at everything,” Lizzie added, absently winding a springy black curl around one finger. “You handle scheduling at the spa. You cook, and you sew. Is there anything you can’t do?”

  Gloria blushed under her freckles. “Oh, I don’t know about all that.”

  Julia returned with the baby perched on one hip. “I didn’t miss pictures of the costumes, did I?”

  Handing her phone to Tara, Gloria shook her head. “Nope. You can pass that around. Scroll through the pictures and let me know what you think.”

  The women gathered around Tara rather than wait their turn, each exclaiming excitedly about the photos.

  “Look at those adorable wings!” Lizzie gushed, pointing over Tara’s shoulder. “Have you ever seen anything so cute?”

  “You think they’re okay?” Gloria asked, biting one side of her lip.

  “They’re perfect!” Tara said, handing the phone to Winnie. “We knew you’d come up with amazing designs, but you manage to impress us every time.”

&nbs
p; Gloria shrugged, blooming under the praise of her friends. It felt good to be accepted and appreciated. The feeling was alien and warm, and she basked in the glow. The sensation reminded her of the heartfelt voice of the man back on the dark porch.

  “Look at all the detail,” Winnie said, holding the phone up to her nose. “How do I zoom this picture again?”

  Lizzie reached over to touch the screen, showing the old woman how to enlarge the images. Winnie’s arthritic, knobby fingers tried again. “I’m no good with this new-fangled technology,” she muttered, tilting her head back to peer through her bifocals.

  “Okay, let’s check costumes off the list,” Tara said, reaching for her clipboard. “Sets. Who was supposed to check on the sets?”

  Julia settled back into her chair, snuggling the baby on her lap. “It’s me. I went by the city garage last night, and Ned was there working. It looked like he had a good start getting his supplies set up.”

  “I saw the drawings,” Tara said. “The guys have done a great job with the design.” She turned to Gloria. “I was going to suggest you stop by and make sure the paint colors they’ve lined up will go with the costumes.”

  Uncharacteristic quiet followed, and the women all turned to Gloria.

  Belatedly realizing that her silence was telling, Gloria blushed again, but this time the feeling wasn’t a good one. “I’ll do that,” she assured, but even to herself, her answer sounded stilted.

  “Is there a problem,” Tara asked, her eyes bouncing at each of the women as if she missed something. But all of them seemed clueless.

  “No problem,” Gloria assured, sounding not near as confident as she had intended.

  Julia bounced the baby on her knee, offering her a toy. “Can I help?” she asked.

  “It’s fine, really,” the redhead continued, her face now filled with a blush right up to her hair roots.

  “Is it the design?” Tara questioned, her brow crinkled in concern. “I could tell Justin—”

  “It’s not that,” Gloria interrupted. With a sigh, she glanced from one woman to the next. Finally, she started again. “It’s just… I don’t think…”

  Lizzie’s eyes narrowed. She knew for a fact that Gloria would never shirk from a task she was asked to do. “What is it then?”

  The group joined in, tossing inquiries and concerns like a hailstorm.

  Gloria raised her hands to shush them. “Okay, okay, I don’t think that Ned likes me much, and I’m not sure he’d want me interfering…” her voice faded away as her frown deepened.

  Shock registered across her friend’s faces as they looked at each other in question.

  “Why would you say that?” Tara finally demanded, angry that a malicious gossip had told Gloria such a tale. “Who told you he doesn’t like you? I’ll find them and—”

  Gloria shook her head. “Nobody said anything.”

  Quiet once again settled across the table as the women shifted in their chairs, each wondering how to help their friend.

  Isabelle screeched, breaking the spell, then beamed a broad, gummy grin when all eyes turned to her.

  Gloria tried again. “I ran into him at the boutique,” she said to Tara, “And he… well, he seemed angry with me, like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”

  “Ned?” The group gasped in unison. None of them had ever seen Ned annoyed with anyone.

  “I must have said something,” Gloria continued, shrinking in her chair.

  “Well! I will have a talk with him,” Tara blurted, “Because I’m sure you didn’t do anything.”

  “No!” Gloria cried, waving her hands. “Really, I’ll figure it out. I’m sure everything is fine. Don’t say anything to him.”

  Julia started at Gloria, her eyes narrowing. “Did he say anything?

  “No. He just kind of scowled,” Gloria said, her expression forlorn.

  Handing the baby to Winnie, Julia rose and pulled up a chair next to Gloria. “Are you sure he was upset with you? I mean, you’ve been under a lot of pressure the last few days, helping us plan and all.” Although she hadn’t said the words, Julia, Tara, Winnie, and Lizzie, knew Gloria had been thrown into a tempest of female contempt since offering to help with the pageant. It was bound to affect her.

  Winnie and Lizzie glanced at each other, then turned to give Tara a knowing look.

  “Was it Nadine that made you cry at the meeting the other night?” Tara asked.

  “I’m sure it was,” Winnie said, her lips setting into a firm line. “I’ll knock some sense into that thick head of—”

  “What did Nadine say to you?” Lizzie demanded.

  Gloria shriveled in her skin, wishing she could disappear altogether. It was bad enough to hear the demeaning gossip, let alone face her friend’s interrogation.

  Julia patted her knee. “Don’t let Nadine get to you,” she comforted. “Her pregnancy has been rough, and she’s not herself right now.”

  With a shrug, Gloria made it obvious that she didn’t think Nadine needed a pregnancy, or any other reason, to badmouth her. It was a common occurrence.

  “Sometimes this town makes me so mad!” Tara sputtered.

  “It’s okay,” Gloria assured, ready for the topic of conversation to shift to anything else. “I’m just… I’m sure I… Ned is a great guy, he’s good to everyone, and I’m sure I was mistaken.”

  The mood at the table shifted abruptly, and Gloria looked from one woman to the next, wondering what she’d said to cause their surprised and speculative expressions.

  Tara stared at Gloria, her brows raised in surprised speculation, then her eyes slid to Julia, who worked to hide a grin. Lizzie cleared her throat to cover her smile, and Winnie beamed down at the baby on her lap.

  “What?” Gloria asked, confused by her friends’ sudden shift in behavior.

  Julia was the only one brave enough to bring up the elephant now filling the room. “So, you like Ned?” she asked Gloria.

  “Well,” Gloria sputtered, the last to understand that somehow she’d given away her thoughts as to how attractive she found Ned. “Everyone likes Ned.” But the only response she got was more knowing glances exchanged among her friends. She sighed, knowing she’d never be able to convince the ladies she didn’t have a crush on the deputy.

  “How long have you felt this way?” Julia asked.

  Desperate to correct the misunderstanding, Gloria sputtered. “No really, I don’t—”

  “I think Ned’s a great guy!” Lizzie said, grinning broadly.

  Winnie nodded in agreement. “Ned has always been such a nice boy.”

  “He is a great guy isn’t he,” Tara said, her sly grin saying, plain as day, that she was more than ready to do some heavy-duty matchmaking.

  * * *

  People milled through the high school gym, gossiping and laughing. Old ladies sported brightly colored Christmas sweaters, and some of the kids ran around in santa hats. Suddenly an earsplitting screech caused shoulders to scrunch and kids to cup their hands over their ears. Heads turned toward the stage where Justin stood holding a microphone at arm’s length.

  Trying again, he flinched and blew on the mic. When no squeal ensued, he cleared his throat. “Could I get everyone’s attention?”

  The rumble of talking only increased, so he tapped on the mic. “Come on, folks, let’s settle down.”

  Still, the laughter and talking persisted.

  A shrill whistle pierced the dim. The crown jumped, turning to see Winnie remove two fingers from her mouth, then smile serenely.

  Justin took the opportunity to gain the groups attention. “Let’s get organized.” He waved one hand toward the stage. “You folks in the choir, come on up to the stage, and those of you in the band, please follow Tara to the music room.”

  A rumble of voices rose again, but the crowd shifted, slowly complying with Justin’s direction. Smithville citizens, old and young, filed up to the stage, and those toting instrument cases wandered out the far door after Tara. Soon
only a few people were left standing on the open floor of the gym, including Elliot, Gloria and Ned.

  Justin motioned to Elliot, and the tall, overdressed man snapped into gear, collecting those who were to help with costumes and sets.

  “Let’s see,” Elliot began, motioning to the group. “I suppose we should get organized as well.”

  Gloria hung toward the back of the assembly, casting glances toward the people she’d be working with. Unfortunately, she saw Nadine was in the mix, causing her to wince.

  Elliot’s sharp eye picked on the movement in the back of the group as Gloria stepped behind Willie to hide. A sparkle lit in his eye, and he motioned for Ned to come closer. When the deputy neared, Elliot pulled him to one side. “Hey,” he began. “You are already up to speed on what’s going on. How about I fill in the rest of these folks.”

  Ned glanced at the mismatched group of choir spouses and nativity scene parents who had volunteered to help behind the scenes, then back to Elliot. “Okay, w—what do you want me to do?”

  Hiding a smug grin, Elliot motioned over his shoulder. “How about you snag Gloria and you two can make sure paint colors are matching for the costumes and the sets.”

  Ned’s eyes bounced to Gloria, then back. For a long moment he contemplated Elliot’s face, but could find no guile, so he conceded. “Okay.”

  With an innocent smile, Elliot turned back to the group. “Folks, settle down now, let me explain what you’ll all be doing.”

  Uneasy, Ned glanced again at Gloria but was surprised to see her looking miserable as if she wished she were anywhere else. Snapping out of his funk, he searched the group, looking for a reason as to Gloria’s dismay. It only took a fraction of a second to find Nadine, who was openly tossing nasty looks Gloria’s way. His forehead wrinkled in thought. What was Nadine’s problem? Other than her huge pregnant belly, that is.

  Springing forward, he headed toward Gloria. As he neared, she glanced up, but when she realized he planned to talk to her, an expression of near panic crossed her face. Her eyes skittered to Nadine, then back.