Hometown Series Box Set

by Kirsten Fullmer

  Alex loosened his arms and stepped to one side, glancing down to kick at a tree root. His only response was a curt nod.

  Katherine stared at him, trying to understand what Chad had said and what it meant.

  “Will you look at that,” Chad mused, interrupting the awkward moment.

  Alex and Katie’s eyes met, filled with questions. Emotion flowed like a current between them. Finally, they tore their gaze away to turn and see what Chad was talking about.

  Katherine was sure nothing could shock her at this point, but her bewilderment drained away… turning to astonishment.

  An old station wagon had pulled up on site and that elderly woman, Winnie, had opened her tailgate and was arranging plastic dishes and containers, paper plates, and foam cups on the back tailgate of her car, like a table.

  Marge, the one with the crazy hairdo, joined Winnie, followed by Becky. Several of the men arranged gas cook stoves on folding legs, and another squatted nearby, working to get a fire going. How he’d do that with soaked wood, Katherine had no idea, but no one seemed to question him.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.

  Chad laughed. “Looks like breakfast to me.”

  Smoke rose from the fire as it came to life, and chatter increased among the crowd. Becky pumped steaming coffee from a carafe, handing out cups to muddy townsfolks now forming a line.

  The café woman handed plastic containers of food to the men with the stoves, and the smell of cooking bacon and sausage wafted upward with a steaming hiss.

  Katherine’s gaze, wide with wonder, went first to Chad and then to Alex. “I— I don’t understand…”

  “Aren’t you hungry?” Chad asked with a chuckle. “Come on,” he said, waving for them to join him as he headed toward the group.

  “This town,” Alex murmured, watching as laughter and happy voices rang from the group into the early morning sunshine.

  Katherine wiped dripping hair off her cheek, her expression doubtful. “They don’t even know me.”

  “Doesn’t matter, you’re one of them now,” Alex replied, rubbing his beard with a grimy hand.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Katherine said, wondering what she should do next.

  “I’ve seen it plenty, but I’d forgotten,” Alex replied, his hand dropping to his side.

  The question that had been pounding through Katherine’s head as she hefted sandbags came to the forefront and she turned to Alex. “How did you know?” she demanded.

  His head pivoted down to look at her.

  “About the river flooding, I mean.”

  “Hershel told me his south pasture flooded sometimes in heavy rain.”

  “You knew Hershel?”

  He nodded but wasn’t ready to talk about the old man. “Let’s go get some food, shall we?”

  Alex didn’t look as if he had any more to say, so she followed. But as they plodded through the mud and muck toward the group of townsfolk, Katherine wished that they could put into words all the unsaid emotions they harbored. He’d saved her park, maybe even her life. He’d managed the chaos, making sure the sandbags were placed and the flooding stopped. She didn’t even know who she would have called for help. The concept was completely foreign. And she certainly didn’t know who else could have organized the town to hold back the river. He’d learned how to do this in the Army, that’s what Chad had said. That made sense, because he hadn’t known how to rouse a whole town and organize them into a rescue squad when he was a kid.

  But as usual, in the most pivotal moments, the only topic of conversation they could manage was trivial.

  “Good work, Alex,” one man called out as they neared.

  “I’m impressed,” another hollered. “Did you learn that in the Army?”

  Cleary uncomfortable with the crowd’s acknowledgements, Alex bobbed his head in answer and kept moving.

  Hands came out to clap Katherine on the shoulder, and wet, grinning faces greeted her as she moved into line for coffee. The crowd folded her in, bombarding her with a million questions:

  “Are those all your trailers?”

  “What year is that silver one?”

  “So, you live out here?”

  “When will the park open?”

  “I’ve been meaning to get out here and see what was happening.”

  “Did you bring those trailers here all by yourself?”

  The voices overlapped on top of each other, the faces blending together.

  Trying to answer each question and thank the people gathered around her, Katherine searched between the bodies, her eyes darting back and forth as she craned her neck, wondering where Alex had gone.

  * * *

  Fresh from the shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel, Alex dropped to sit on the edge of his bed. Fish, happy to see his owner, put his paws on Alex’s knees with his googly eyes eager for love and his stump of a tail wagging. Absently, Alex ran his hands over Fish’s head. What a night. His mind flashed between Katie sleeping in his arms, to him pounding on doors in the pouring rain.

  It had been a shock to realize that he still had it in him to lead a rescue operation. Not that this one had been a huge deal, but Katie’s life and property had definitely been in danger. “Vintage trailers don’t likely float,” he said to the puppy.

  Fish jumped up onto the bed and then climbed into Alex’s lap. The towel shifted and the little dog stepped directly onto Alex’s scar. Catching the puppy around his middle, Alex lifted him off his lap, then sat staring down at his leg. Some of the muscle was returning, he supposed, likely because of the work he’d been doing at Katie’s place. Tracing the length of the bumpy red scar, his thoughts turned to his lost friends. His heart still ached every bit as much as it had the day they died; even if his leg was healing, it didn’t seem right.

  With a whine, Fish wiggled his head under Alex’s arm, his silly face poking out to grin up at Alex.

  “Okay, boy, I’ll pull myself together,” Alex assured the dog, now used to the puppy’s intervention when he was feeling down. Fish may be a therapy-dog dropout, but the little guy had his own way of bringing Alex around.

  * * *

  Katherine pushed sweaty tendrils of hair back from her forehead as she scanned the multitude of parts and appliances that now filled her storage container. “Focus,” she told herself as another wave of stress overwhelmed her.

  A shower had managed to give her a bit of gumption, but her enthusiasm was waning by the second. With a sigh, she closed the door of the shipping container and leaned against it. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t get past the way the people from town had come to help her. She’d not given them the time of day, yet they’d jumped out of bed in the middle of the night to work in the mud and rain.

  Guilt rested on her shoulders like a yoke. It was high time she stopped being such a hermit and showed the people of Smithville how much she appreciated their efforts.

  The row of old trailers confronted her like a wall.

  Would she be better off to finish the one that needed the least work first, or should she go with her original plan to finish the trailers in the order they arrived? She cupped one hand to her forehead to shade her eyes. The day was unbearably humid, likely due to the storm, and the temperature soared as the sun rose high in the sky. Sweat trickled down her back.

  So much for feeling fresh after a shower.

  She pushed away from the container and headed toward the little Shasta Airflyte. It was one of her favorites, partly due to the wings on the back end, and the little trailer was at the top of her list today.

  She tugged open the door and climbed up into the already stuffy trailer. It had belonged to an old man who’d kept it in storage for fifty years. It had been in nearly perfect condition when she’d purchased it from the man’s son. It was the epitome of what most people thought of when they envisioned a vintage camp trailer, with its classic oval shape, stripe down the side, wings, and birch wood interior. The only thing Burt had done w
as clean out the cobwebs, grease the chassis, change the tires, check the appliances, freshen up the caulk, and convert the closet to a bathroom. As usual, his work wasn’t obvious. If you didn’t know the door across from the compact kitchen had been a closet, you’d never guess.

  The front curve of the trailer was filled with a dining table and bench seats for four, which could make into a bed. The kitchen was along one side, with the bathroom on the other, with a double bed tucked sideways into the back curve.

  Running her hand over the original upholstery of the dining cushions, Katherine felt a tiny bit sad that the lovely little trailer had never been used. Or at least not used much, but it would get plenty of love now, considering the groups already signed up to stay in it.

  Out of the blue, a new idea fizzled in the back of Katherine’s mind, almost as if a spark lit, sputtered, and burst to life. With her hand still on the cushion, Katherine realized that this was her trailer, and she could give it the adventures it deserved. Once the glamping season slowed, she could hook up any of her trailers and take them to vintage RV shows, or simply take a road trip. She could park this little beauty on a beach to watch the sunrise or in the mountains overlooking a lake surrounded by trees.

  The thought of so much freedom still somewhat frightened her, but now she could sort out the why of her discomfort. She knew how to connect trailers and pull them, not to mention how they worked and how to fix them. Fear of the unknown was gone. She was confident. She’d taken her first road trip, cross-country, out of necessity, but now she could do it for fun!

  She took a moment to savor the awareness, turning it over in her mind as she felt it out. Then with fresh self-reliance, she tucked the idea back into her heart for safekeeping.

  She moved to the door, leaning out into the breeze, her ears still perked to the pitch of the river. The roar had lessened to a rumble, and her shoulders came down a notch.

  Realizing that she had hours of daylight left, her relief sagged into fatigue. Well, she still had plenty of packages to unwrap back in her trailer, and it was cool inside. There really was never-ending amounts of work to do. She just had no energy to do any of it. And all those people showing up to save her and her park still had her rattled.

  What do I do now?

  Should she send thank you cards? Send flowers? Invite everyone to the opening? She turned and closed the door to the Shasta, then headed back toward her trailer. Thank-you cards seemed to be the logical idea, because she didn’t want people to think she wasn’t thankful.

  Then a new epiphany struck. She really was truly grateful, relieved, and appreciative that the whole town had come. Never before would she have been happy to see a crowd coming her way. Unsure what to do with this knowledge, she pushed it away.

  When should she move the trailers? Her eyes scanned the muddy mess of her property, and the sick feeling returned to her stomach.

  “Icarus went on a grand adventure and flew too close to the sun…” she murmured, biting the inside of her cheek. Then determined to stop wasting time, she plodded through the muck back to her trailer.

  * * *

  Alex assured himself that he only wanted to check on the level of the river, and that was all. His truck lurched over the muddy ruts, now drying into peaks and valleys in the gravel road, and his pulse rate increased.

  “I need to check on the river because I’m sure Katie probably isn’t up to working on trailers today,” he reiterated out loud.

  Fish regarded him doubtfully from the passenger seat.

  “Don’t give me that look,” Alex huffed, glancing between the dog and the road. “You like her too.”

  “Woof!”

  “I knew it,” Alex chuckled as he pulled to a stop at the end of the gravel road. He opened his door, happy to see that he hadn’t stopped in the middle of one of the many puddles dotting the property. “Come on,” he motioned to Fish, and the little dog jumped from the seat of the truck to follow his master. “Ah, Fish! Don’t—”

  Belatedly, he realized he never should have let the dog onto the ground. “You’re getting all muddy,” he said, bending to pick up the pup who rolled happily in the mud. But it was too late -- the puppy was muddy from head to foot.

  Alex held him at arm’s length. “Now what am I going to do with you?” he asked the smiling pup. “Oh, you think she’ll let you inside looking like this? I’m not so sure.”

  Wondering how he was going to hold onto the muddy dog and knock, Alex was relieved when Katie swung the door open.

  “What have we here?” she laughed. Her face rose to Alex, and her expression changed from amusement to one of carefully controlled manners. “Come in. I’ll stick him in the tub.”

  “You sure?” Alex asked. But she had already turned away to head for the bathroom, so he trudged up the steps. Inside the door, he held the dog in front of him, careful to stay on the welcome mat, and used the toe of one boot to pull off the heel of the other.

  Still wearing one muddy boot, he didn’t want to use his stocking foot to pull off the other boot, so he stuck Fish under one arm long enough to reach down and tug off his boot. Once he had both boots off, he carried the puppy out in front of him to the bathroom, checking under his arm to assess the mess the dog had made on his shirt.

  Katherine stood by the tub with her hands out for the puppy. “Come here, Fish, let’s get you cleaned up.”

  The dog squirmed in Alex’s grip excited to get to Katherine, and Alex struggled to keep ahold of him. Wet and muddy, the dog wiggled from Alex’s grasp.

  “Whoa, boy,” Alex cried, groping hand over hand to catch the wiggly puppy.

  Katherine jumped into the tangle and wrestled Fish from Alex, then turned to put him in the tub. “There!” she said in triumph.

  The puppy had other ideas, however, and the second Katherine released him, he jumped out of the tub, smearing mud up one side of the white porcelain. With an excited woof, he jumped excitedly around the bathroom, leaving a trail of muddy paw prints and smears.

  Both Alex and Katherine dove for the dog, but Fish was quick, as well as slippery, giving him the advantage. Alex managed to close both bathroom doors before Fish escaped, but within minutes, both Katherine and Alex were covered in mud, and the floor hadn’t fared any better.

  Alex hopped on his good foot, his legs spread to avoid stepping on the puppy, just as Katherine made a valiant dive for the dog from behind. “I’ve got him now!” she called out, gripping the squirming puppy as she lay sprawled on her stomach with her arms extended between Alex’s legs.

  “Hang onto him!” Alex cheered, dropping to one knee to help grasp the dog. His bad leg stuck behind, off to one side at an angle.

  Both Katie and Alex froze, with the dog gripped over her head in all four of their mud-covered hands. Alex lay awkwardly across Katie’s butt, concentrating on holding onto the puppy and not crushing Katie.

  “Now what?” she asked, her voice muffled.

  “Hang on,” he said, working to lift his bad knee and dismount, yet still keep his grip on the puppy. But the bathroom was small and with his limited range of motion, he didn’t have room to move off her. “I’m gonna have to let go of him,” he grunted.

  “No!” Katie yelled as the dog got his second wind, bucking and wiggling in their hands, clearly enjoying the game.

  “Let me try to—” she grunted, her words breaking off as she pulled the filthy little dog close, trying to turn to one side.

  Only able to guess what Katie was about to do, Alex concentrated on keeping his grip on the dog.

  Finally, managing to roll onto her back, Katherine held the puppy to her chest. This left Alex gracelessly straddling her hips, trying to hold his weight on one elbow and one knee. With their faces only inches apart, they stared at each other.

  Alex grinned. “This is new,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

  Chapter Twenty

  Katherine couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. It had been a very long time since she’d wrestled an
d laughed with anyone, let alone Alex.

  He smiled down at her, savoring the moment, but Fish wasn’t one to sit quietly.

  Since they’d had a minute to catch their breath, Katie and Alex managed to wiggle and squirm, smearing mud and muck on each other as well as the floor and walls, as they wrestled the puppy into the tub.

  Luckily, Katie’s shower had a hand-held attachment, and with both of them working to keep Fish in the tub, they managed to get the puppy under the running water.

  “Your name is Fish,” Alex grumbled, holding the dog under the stream of water as Katie ran the shower attachment. Alex flinched as a splash hit him directly in the face. “You’re supposed to like water!”

  After a quick lather, Katie examined the pup. “I think he’s about rinsed - or as good as I can get him anyway,” she announced, turning off the tap. Fish broke loose from Alex’s grip and jumped from the tub, dripping and flinging water as he went.

  “He looks bett—” Alex started, but Fish interrupted by shaking violently, dousing both Alex and Katie, as well as the bathroom.

  “Fish!” Katie cried, raising one arm to block the onslaught.

  Alex stood, ignoring the water, and stiffly limped to the cupboard, sorted through the towels and washcloths and collected what looked to be several rags, hoping to wipe up the mess before Fish could roll in it again.

  “Throw me one,” Katie called.

  Alex tossed her a rag, and she caught it in mid-air.

  “Good catch!” he exclaimed, wiping off the floor and wall as the dog tore around the room like a demon.

  Katie hurried to clean up her side of the floor. “We’re all a mess.”

  “You should see your face,” Alex joked before his brain engaged. When she tossed him an irritated look, his expression fell. “No, I mean—”

  “I know,” she admitted, cutting him some slack. “I can feel the mud drying.” She stretched her mouth open wide, causing two streaks across her cheek to crack.