Hometown Series Box Set

by Kirsten Fullmer

  As she took tentative sips of coffee, her thoughts turned back to the upcoming work. Mentally, she ticked off what she needed to accomplish that day.

  First on the list was to solder a new connection from underneath the trailer to the big propane tank. Then, she’d have a much larger supply of propane than the small tanks that came with the trailer could provide. Once that was done, there’d be no need to refill the smaller bottles every few days. Propane would run the furnace. Not that she’d need the furnace any time soon, it was summer and the trailer was already heating up, but propane fueled the stove as well. A small generator and the solar panels on the roof collected enough battery power to run her computer and her lights at night, but once the electricity was hooked up, she could use her toaster and microwave, not to mention the AC.

  Draining the last sip of coffee from her cup, she rose from the sofa and padded to the kitchen to place her mug and spoon in the sink.

  What would be really great was a shower, but that would have to wait until the water was hooked up. Until then, it would be greasy hair and spit baths from a water bottle.

  Back in her tiny bedroom, she pulled on a pair of jeans. They were a bit grubbier than she would have liked, but they’d do for one more day.

  As she dressed, she went through the motions of connecting the copper pipe in her mind. Perhaps, she would turn on the hotspot and pull up a YouTube video, just to be safe. Soldering was at the apex of her current skill set when it came to hooking up utilities.

  A glimpse of her reflection in the mirror as she passed back through her bathroom caused her to cringe. As soon as the water was hooked up, she’d stand in the shower until the hot water ran out. Not that that would take long, considering the trailer only had an eight-gallon water heater. Washing her clothes in her small, stackable washer and dryer would have to wait as well. It was a darn good thing that the electrician Becky recommended would be stopping by any time.

  * * *

  Alex looked up from the paper in his hand. “You sure about this address?” he asked Mac.

  His leg had been extra stiff when he woke up, likely from working long hours. This morning he’d stood in the shower to drink his coffee, with one hand braced against the wall, the other gripping his coffee mug, tolerating water as hot as he could stand, to flow over this hip. The water went cold about the time his coffee ran out, or he’d still be up there.

  Mac worked to hide his pleasure at Alex’s dismay. “Yup.” He wasn’t amused about the pain his son tolerated, but he knew what lay in store for the man.

  “But…” Alex scowled down at the paper in his hand, then back up at Mac. “You didn’t tell me Becky was the one building the new RV park or that it was going to be on Hershel’s land.”

  Mac climbed into his truck and tossed his lunch cooler into the passenger seat. “No, I offered you the chance to wire and fit an entire new RV park, and you said you’d take the job.” He gave Alex the irritated father look. “Does it matter?”

  “No, I guess not.” But in reality, the thought of a band of Bermuda short-wearing tourists with screaming kids tromping across Hershel’s property, driving huge overblown RVs, did bother Alex.

  Mac cranked down his window. “You still want the job?” he asked.

  Puffing out a sigh, Alex struggled to pull off his usual light-hearted manner. “Of course, I want the job,” he said with a grin. “I got this.” But his heart wasn’t in it, and it was obvious.

  “Fine. Let me know if you need anything,” Mac said, but the tone of his voice made it clear that the matter was settled. As he drove away, he glanced in the rearview mirror to see Alex still standing forlornly in the driveway. “Good luck, Son,” he mumbled.

  Ten minutes later Alex’s work truck bumped over the fresh gravel of the road onto Hershel’s property. This whole RV park thing seemed a bit off to him. Didn’t people driving RVs want to stop in more interesting locations than backwoods Smithville? Hershel’s land was miles off the freeway and isolated, making it completely out of the way.

  Rounding the corner, his foot came down hard on the brake pedal. The field spread before him was dressed in lovely Southwest Pennsylvania summer splendor, touting wild green grass rimmed by tall trees and colorful underbrush with the backdrop of the mountain behind. But the real eye-opener was the turquoise and silver, vintage travel trailer, tucked under the trees on the far side of the field. The chrome sheets framing the top and bottom of the trailer gleamed in the morning sun, and a neat set of wooden steps led to the open door. Glistening chrome framed each window, even the round bubble window in the door, and polished silver propane bottles sat on the V-shaped tongue.

  This was not what he’d expected to find. Unsure exactly what he had expected, he followed the gravel road across the field toward the trailer. Whoever Becky had found to run the park, they had one hell of a cool office.

  * * *

  Leaning back on her heels, Katherine grunted in frustration. The adapter she wanted to connect to the external propane tank was in place, but the flange for her existing tank kept getting cross threaded. She lined up the flange and tried one more time. It had to work.

  The flange slipped off again, and she cussed in frustration. What had ever made her think she was capable of connecting up a propane tank, anyway?

  The sound of a truck approaching from the other side of the field drew her attention, and the hose from the tank slipped from her fingers and fell under the trailer. Maybe she was not cut out for this after all.

  How many times had she wanted to give up and just quit? Far too many. But as usual, the only option she had was to continue trying.

  Hoping to retrieve the hose and get it connected before she had to stop and talk to the electrician, she dropped to her stomach and shimmied under the trailer. Mud soaked into the front of her shirt and jeans, making her wonder how she’d manage to wash them without running water.

  Her schedule, as well as her mood, showed the first signs of unraveling.

  “It looks like I’m going to need to find a Laundromat,” she muttered, searching in the darkness, mud, and fallen leaves for the flange end of the black hose.

  As the truck approached, she could see its wheels roll to a stop not far from her trailer. Surely, the electrician would have a flashlight so she could get the job finished, then she wouldn’t have to climb back in the mud when he left.

  Booted feet dropped from the truck, one at a time, then paused.

  “I’m down here,” she called. “Could you give me a hand?”

  The boots turned one direction, then the other, as the electrician searched for the disembodied voice.

  “Under the trailer!” she called, squirming in the mud for a better view behind her.

  The boots rounded the front of the truck and headed her direction.

  “Do you have a flashlight I could borrow?” she hollered. “It’s too dark to see under here, and I didn’t grab mine.”

  * * *

  Surprised by the feminine voice, and even more so by the pair of long, attractive legs extending from under the trailer, Alex grasped for the flashlight hanging from his tool belt, his eyes never leaving the legs. A petite, muddy hand reached out, groping in the air, so he placed the flashlight in it. Whoever the woman was, she looked great in those jeans.

  She squirmed out from under the trailer. He could see that her T-shirt was soaked and covered in mud. Her shirt was transparent and he could plainly make out the outline of her bra. Embarrassed, he looked away, preparing a witty greeting to ease the awkwardness of the situation.

  “Thanks,” she blustered, pushing off the ground to stand. She peeled the shirt away from her chest. “I couldn’t find that hose in the—”

  Meeting the woman’s eye, Alex froze, and his mouth fell open. He blinked once, then took a step back, completely unprepared to face Katie.

  Thoughts tumbled in his head, clunking round and round, like tennis shoes in the dryer. She was real, flesh and blood, not a ghost, and his mind coul
dn’t quite come to terms with the fact. Why was she here?

  His eyes cast the length of her, then back to her face as he took in her slim figure, her vibrant brown eyes, and the sameness of her, mixed in with the girl he’d known so well. She was still tantalizingly delicate, even though she was nearly his height. Maybe it was something about her features or bone structure, or their past, but it made him feel protective toward her for some reason. Which was kind of funny actually, because she was as hardheaded and daring as anyone he’d ever met. He’d been sure that she would go places in life and do whatever she pleased, it was her nature. So how on earth had she ended up here?

  Anger surged to the surface. He’d been trained to be prepared for any eventuality. He took pride in his ability to scope out situations and be ready for the unexpected, yet here he was gaping like an idiot. Had all those years in the battle zone taught him nothing about letting his guard down? Hadn’t he learned that lesson the hard way? Why did his failures pop up in every damn situation? Would he never recover from the string of disasters that had become his life?

  She stared at him, and pain sparked in her eye. Maybe he should have listened to her back then. She’d been adamant that he could have just as many adventures without the Army.

  Of course, he’d felt differently. His leaving was the only thing they’d argued about. She’d been so furious, so hurt. She hadn’t been a part of his plan, and he hadn’t been able to figure out how to fit her in. It had come down to an ultimatum -- the Army or her.

  The whole thing had torn him apart back then, and it didn’t feel much different now.

  As her expression changed from shock to recognition, her arms fell to her sides.

  He noted the dark circles under her eyes, the misery in her expression, the mud smeared on her cheek, and the lock of hair that had escaped from her bun to stick to her face. What on earth had she been through to look so bedraggled?

  Then, like a thunderstorm building on the horizon, her countenance changed and resentment spread across her features.

  Chapter Five

  “What are you doing here?” Katherine demanded, her eyes flashing.

  Unable to find his voice, Alex faltered. His legs had turned to rubber, and his brain ceased to function. “I’m—” He cleared his throat and then tried again, motioning toward his truck. “I’m here to hook up—”

  She scoffed in frustration. “I was expecting an electrician.”

  Getting a firm hand on his emotions, Alex straightened his shoulders. “I am the electrician.” With those words, he felt the front of composure he used as a shield slip back into place.

  She shook her head. “I’m sure there’s been some mistake.”

  “No, I’m supposed to be here,” he assured, feeling steadier, but his expression was still grim. “What are you doing here, Katie?” Although his words formed a question, they were flat and cold, more like an accusation.

  Her chin came up. “Call me Katherine.”

  “Why?” His voice was harsh, and his attitude not necessarily charitable. He couldn’t help himself as his hand reached up to brush away the hair stuck to her cheek, but he stopped halfway.

  Flinching away from his hand, as well as his question, her eyes went to his fingers, then back to his face. “Because that’s my name.”

  His hand rested on the side of the trailer, and he leaned into it, mostly to be sure it stayed there. “Okay then, Katherine, what are you doing here?” With the shock of seeing her now fading, a cocky, self-assured grin spread under his beard.

  She folded her arms back across her soggy chest. “Why shouldn’t I be here?”

  He had no answer for that so he remained silent, watching her in fascination as if she were a figment of his imagination -- a pixie, be it a filthy one, that would disappear if he blinked. He really wanted to slowly roam the length of her with his eyes and take in every detail, but he refrained, certain that would be unprofessional. Instead, he inspected her face.

  She waved one hand toward the open field. “This is my property. I can be here if I please.”

  Shock hit him full force once again, and his hand dropped from the trailer. “Wh—?” But then he realized she must have inherited the land from Hershel. Why hadn’t that occurred to him in the first place? He massaged his beard, lost in thought.

  “Since when are you an electrician?” Katherine demanded.

  His hand dropped from his chin. “I work with—” but then he hesitated, still hating to admit that he worked for his dad. He looked over her shoulder, squinting into the sun, then back to meet her eye. “Relax, I’m certified, and I’m here to hook you up.” His eyes shone at his joke.

  Katherine uncrossed her arms, her hands clenching into fists. But then the breeze across her chest reminded her of her soaked shirt, and she glanced down, then back up, her cheeks blooming red. Embarrassed, she re-crossed her arms.

  Amused that he still had the ability to mess with her, as well as surprised by her uncharacteristic modesty, he watched her emotions with interest. “I mean hook up power,” he amended with a wink. Now that he’d found his feet, he was enjoying this. He watched her blush. She had to know he’d already seen every delectable inch of her. Memories of them tangled in the dark flashed through his mind. She’d been every bit as eager and passionate as he had been, back in the day.

  “Becky didn’t say you were the electrician.”

  “She likely meant my dad.”

  “Your dad? Doesn’t he work at the mine?”

  “The mine closed years ago.”

  Her frown deepened. “So, why are you even in Smithville? I thought you were never coming back—”

  Unwilling to hear her questions about the Army, or admit he was injured, or discharged, or anything else, he interrupted. “I’m here to hook up your power, so if you’ll explain what you need...” He motioned toward the property.

  Realizing she was likely stuck with Alex, at least for the time being, her mood shifted downward, her feelings obvious on her mud-streaked face.

  He leaned against his truck, feeling wicked. For once he was willing to admit his part in his dad’s company. It made him feel as if he had the upper hand. “My dad owns the only plumbing and electrical company around here, and he’s got all the work he can manage. I’m all you’ve got, so—”

  He watched as new emotions fluttered across her face. He could see that she was stressed and confused, then a definite impression of agony came back to the forefront, and his amusement died. Taking a step closer, his expression softened, and he reached up again, without thinking, to lift the hair from her cheek.

  Her eyes were bright, near tears, when she glanced up at him, but she cringed at his attempt to touch her.

  He retreated.

  Visibly shaken, she rubbed her hands up and down her upper arms and bit her bottom lip. He waited, and finally, she spoke, but her voice was soft, and she wouldn’t meet his eye. “I’ll need power brought in from the pole for each of the trailer lots.” She motioned toward her trailer. “I’ll get the plans.”

  * * *

  Slamming the trailer door behind her, Katherine gasped for a breath, then buried her face in her dirty hands. Unable to hold back tears for the first time since the whole fiasco began, she dropped to the floor. It was too much, simply too damn much. She’d sold all of her furniture, left her home and her job, bought a truck, worked her ass off, driven clear across country dragging a trailer, and she had not broken down under the strain. But Alex was the final straw.

  How could he act as if nothing had happened between them?

  Long buried memories resurfaced. Her shoulders shook and sobs wracked her body, as she saw the two of them lying under a blanket of stars -- his embrace tender, those sensual hands of his, caressing her skin, and his sweet, deep kisses.

  The emotions she’d felt that long-ago night came flooding back, leaving her raw and shivering with sensation. But then she saw his back as he’d headed toward the bus station, with his chin set at an o
bstinate angle she’d never forget.

  Her heart broke anew. Why did I ever think coming back here would be okay?

  * * *

  Pacing by his truck, Alex swore under his breath. His dad had known that he was sending him into a hornet’s nest, yet he hadn’t let on.

  Unsure if Katie would even face him again, he opened his truck door and climbed inside. How could his own dad do this to him? It was true that Mac had all the work he could handle and he needed help, but this job would likely take weeks, and he’d known it would shake Alex up, yet he’d done it anyway.

  Not the work, Alex preferred distribution work to anything indoors, but working with Katie was another thing altogether.

  He pictured her face, her grimy skin, her dark eyes shimmering with tears, and he knew she was in pain. He’d known it when he left all those years ago and every day since. Obviously, he’d reopened the wound. What should he do now? Drive away and let her be?

  Leave her again, when she needed his help?

  He climbed from the truck and slammed the door. Not this time. He had no clue how to manage working with Katie, especially if she continued to affect him so deeply, but he’d figure it out. He’d been through worse things than working with a female.

  That was it, he simply had to think of her as the unarmed combatant on site.

  He shook his head. This wasn’t battle, he was home now, and this was a job. He was back in the real world.

  Visions of Afghanistan, tents, the dirt, his buddies, and then the Humvee blown apart and laying in pieces, covered in blood, flashed in his mind. As always he helplessly examined the vision, wondering how he could have made the outcome different.

  * * *

  The door of the camp trailer opened, and Katherine stalked down the stairs. She looked as if she’d pulled herself together, and she gripped a set of plans in one hand.