Hometown Series Box Set

by Kirsten Fullmer

  No, they were a hopeless cause, probably had been all along, and she should have stayed away from him.

  * * *

  Alex squinted into the early morning sun as his truck bumped down the gravel drive of the campground. Pulling to a stop at the far side of the park, he left the truck running and sat staring through the windshield at the trailers.

  Fish whined and pawed at the door, wanting out.

  “Okay, okay, hold your horses,” Alex mumbled to the puppy as he turned off the ignition. But once the truck was off, he couldn’t seem to make himself get out. Morning light winked off the row of impeccable, decorated vintage trailers, giving the park a spark of magic.

  The puppy pranced impatiently in a circle on the passenger seat. Alex tossed him a glance. “Cool your jets; I’m working on it.”

  Fish plopped onto his butt and stared up at Alex with his head cocked to one side.

  “Do you think she’ll talk to me?” he asked the dog, his voice raw with emotion. He hadn’t slept for what felt like a week but even with all the thinking that he’d done, he struggled to find a solution to his problems with Katie. It had taken days to realize that he had to talk to her, had to bridge the gap that he’d purposely placed between them.

  He sighed, feeling weary to his very soul. Why does this have to be so hard? Worse than the lack of sleep was how much he missed her. Sure, he’d been working within sight of her for days, yet she felt miles away.

  And it was his fault.

  After spending so much time with the woman, watching her every move, sleeping beside her and kissing her, working with her to make her goals and dreams for the park happen, he was hooked. And she was a habit he didn’t want to break.

  * * *

  Still in her nightshirt, not expecting anyone to show up for another hour, Katherine put the kettle on to boil and lifted her simplified coffee maker down from the cupboard over the sink. Stifling a yawn, she placed a filter in the funnel-shaped, glass utensil and set it on her coffee mug. As she lifted the lid from the coffee canister and scooped out a heaping tablespoon of coffee grounds, a sharp rap at the door startled her, and she jumped, throwing a shower of coffee grounds over her head and through the room.

  “Argh!” she growled, slamming the spoon down on the counter. “Who on earth…” Tiptoeing through the grounds covering her floor, she peeped through the curtains by the sofa. “Alex?”

  Thrilled, then curious, then angry at the way he’d been acting, she flipped the lock and yanked open the door.

  Alex jumped, holding Fish under one arm, apparently not expecting her to answer so quickly.

  She scowled down at him. “You’re early,” she said, motioning toward the other trailers. “The open house is at ten.”

  His eyes wandered from her face down to her skimpy night shirt, where they hesitated, then continued on down her long legs, finally stopping to stare at the nasty bruise and scab on her shin.

  She crossed her arms across her chest, embarrassed at not wearing a bra …or clothes for that matter.

  His gaze came back up to her face. “I know.”

  “You know what?” she asked with one brow arched.

  “That the open house is at ten.”

  Her expression eased, and she uncrossed her arms. “Oh.”

  He glanced down and shuffled his boots, then glanced back up at her. Fish squirmed in his grip. “Can we come in?”

  She stepped back and put one arm out to indicate that they should enter. Alex tromped up the steps and bent to let Fish down. The dog wiggled out of his hands, and Alex caught sight of the coffee grounds covering the floor. He straightened, taking in the mess. His eyes met hers. “Making coffee?”

  “Yeah, want some?”

  He tried a tentative grin. “Do I have to lick it off the floor?”

  She snorted and headed to the bathroom to get a broom. As she swept up the grounds, her teakettle whined, then worked up to a high-pitched whistle. She tossed a glance at Alex, who stood staring out the open door, so with a sigh, she turned off the burner under the kettle and dumped the dustpan into the trash. One more glance at Alex said he still wasn’t talking, so she wiped off the counter and started again, scooping up a spoonful of grounds.

  Alex closed the door and wandered into the kitchen, where he leaned against the counter to watch her. “What is that?”

  “A coffee maker,” she said, her words flat.

  Here she’d spent days feeling like a heel for upsetting him, then she’d watched him work onsite while he flat-out ignored her, and now he wanted to know about her coffee maker? Yesterday, he’d run over to inspect her idiotic wound like she was a helpless child, then left with without so much as a how-do-you-do. Screw him. This whole thing had pushed her way past hurt and well into pissed. No, she was flat-out mad. Damn mad.

  Add to that her concern about Becky and the money, the whole dang overwhelming open house, and her foul mood was undeniable.

  His head tilted to one side, watching as she poured steaming water over the grounds. “Well, look at that…” he muttered, leaning in for a closer look.

  Giving the water a few more minutes to filter through the grounds, she turned to Alex. “Ready to tell me why you’re here?”

  “Do I need a reason?”

  She gave him an arch look.

  He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I— I wanted to talk to you.”

  She turned back to the coffee and removed the funnel and filter from her mug. Lifting out the steaming filter, she set it cautiously in the sink and held the mug out to Alex, her words flat. “Cream or sugar.”

  “I’d love a little sugar,” he wisecracked with a grin, taking the mug, but Katherine would have none of it. She pulled the glass measuring cup from the cupboard. Once she had another filter in the coffee maker and grounds in place, she poured the last of the water into the filter.

  Alex stood silent, watching her work, ignoring his coffee.

  Katherine placed the coffee maker in the sink and opened the fridge. Taking out the creamer she raised it in question, but Alex shook his head, so she poured a dollop into the measuring cup, then returned the creamer to the fridge. As she stirred sugar into her coffee, she cast Alex a sidelong glance. Finding him staring, she leaned back against the counter and raised the measuring cup to her lips. Tentatively, she tried a sip but it was too hot, so she lowered the cup.

  “You could have taken the mug,” he offered, lifting his cup.

  “What do you want, Alex?”

  He swallowed hard, then set his mug on the counter and moved to stand in front of her. Carefully, he took the measuring cup from her hands and set it next to his mug. With nothing left between them, he took her hands in his, his eyes searching hers. “I came to say I’m sorry.”

  “Dammit, Alex!” she cursed, shaking off his hands to push past him.

  He turned to face her, shocked.

  “How the hell am I supposed to stay mad at you when you apologize so nice!” She tossed one hand in the air. He didn’t answer, so she smoothed a wisp of hair up toward her bun. The hair fell back over her ear.

  “I was an idiot,” he said, “I’m sorry.”

  “This is becoming a pattern,” she returned, scowling at him.

  “I can only guess what it’s been like for you, losing your mom and not having your dad around,” he continued undaunted. “My parents are divorced, but they’re awesome, and they’d do anything for me. I didn’t think…”

  Her mood plummeted from exasperation to sad surprise, and she stared down at her feet. For the first time in weeks, she didn’t know what to do with her hands, and they covered her cheeks, then went to her hair, and finally landed on her hips.

  “I’m sorry that I haven’t been more sympathetic about your parents and how all that has affected you,” he added.

  She didn’t look up for a long moment, and when she did her eyes glowed with unshed tears. ‘Thanks.”

  “There’s more,” he said, concerned about her
emotional state. “I’ve practiced this whole speech thing, so— should I just keep going?”

  She sniffed, blinking back tears and nodded.

  “You were right that we knew each other before— before everything happened.”

  She choked on a sniff, and he moved closer. “You could see that I’ve been hurting.”

  Was this Alex? Mister avoidance, joking Army-guy, Alex, admitting to her that he hadn’t taken her feelings into account, and saying he was ready to talk about his feelings? His eyes and his stance, even his expression said yes. Once again, it felt as if she’d been waiting for him to do this for years.

  Her expression darkened, acknowledging that she had been waiting for years! She rubbed her temple, fighting to think through the emotions shifting and surging through her. She looked up unsure, and he offered a crooked grin.

  He did come to talk to her, she reasoned. All by himself, he’d made that step.

  And he’d come the day of the flood, pretty much saving her life and her park. Her heart expanded a bit, softening.

  And he’d come back for days to work on the trailers. She would never have been able to finish in time without his help.

  He’d held her through the storm and let her love Fish, and kissed her in the mud, and drank wine from her measuring cup, and—

  Alex lifted a hand to her, and that was the final straw. Unable to help herself, Katie launched into his arms, nearly knocking him over backward.

  “You’re not supposed to hug me at this part of the speech,” he whispered in her ear.

  Katie made a noise that sounded like a snort mixed with a laugh, hugging him all the harder. His arms came up to wrap her into an embrace, and his eyes fell closed. He took a deep breath, inhaling the smell and feel of her, drowning in the pleasure of having her back in his arms.

  Sniffing and wiping at her eyes, Katie pulled back and his hands fell to her waist. “You had more to say?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  His expression fell. “I did but— it can wait—”

  “No,” she interrupted, “Please, tell me.”

  His hands dropped away from her hips, and he turned to pace across the kitchen. He ran his hands through his hair again, then lifted his coffee mug for a long slurp. When he turned back, his jaw was set. “This is the part where I was going to tell you what happened— in Afghanistan.”

  Caught off guard, Katherine didn’t know what to say. Her hands reached toward him, then came back to her chest, and finally laced into default position in front of her. “Go ahead,” she whispered, bracing herself for whatever he may say.

  A quiver shook Alex’s upper lip, and his palms broke into a sweat. Fish trotted into the room and sat on his boot, whining to be picked up. Glancing down at the dog, then back up to Katie, Alex spoke. “I’ve never— I’ve never talked about it,” he stuttered, wishing he still wasn’t.

  She bobbed her head once, hoping she looked encouraging.

  “It was an IED,” he said, choking on the word. He cleared his throat and started again. “My buddies— they—” The vision rose before his eyes, and he clamped them closed. The blood—the revulsion—the smoke—the screaming. Then he felt a hand in his, and his eyes blinked open only to see Katie. “They didn’t make it,” he choked out as a sob wracked his body, followed by another and another.

  Katie folded him into a tight embrace, rocking him back and forth as he moaned into her shoulder, his voice muffled and his tears soaking her nightshirt.

  She cried too, for his pain, for the horror of his experience, for his friends that died, for his loss, for their families, for all she and Alex had been through in their short lives.

  Not knowing or caring how long they stood that way comforting each other, they cried together for the things life had done to them.

  Finally, Alex pulled back wiping furiously at his nose and eyes. Katie reached out for the roll of paper towels on the counter. She tore off a sheet for herself, then handed Alex the roll.

  “I’m a mess,” he sniffed while unrolling sheet after sheet of towels.

  “Not that big of a mess,” she blubbered, reaching out to take the towels back.

  “Thanks for listening, for wanting to know.” Alex sniffed, wiping at his eyes.

  “You can tell me more. As a matter of fact, I want to know all about Afghanistan, the good stuff too,” she said, surprising herself.

  “I didn’t think you’d want me to talk about it, since it’s why I left and all.”

  “It’s a part of you,” she admitted, finding a bit of closure for herself at the words.

  “Damn it!” Alex cursed, causing Katie to jump.

  “What?”

  He shook his head in annoyance. “I forgot a part in the middle of my speech.”

  Unsure how much more they could handle, Katie didn’t speak, so Alex stepped up to her and tossed his paper towel on the counter. “I wanted to ask you to tell me about your mom,” he said.

  Katie’s world tipped on end and her heart broke, but amazingly, somehow all the million little pieces were swept right back up in a whirlwind and bound back together, feeling more whole than before. She melted into his arms, tears flowing again. “I will,” she sniffed, burying her face on his shoulder.

  “This is the part where you’re supposed to hug me,” he said with a chuckle. She laughed, coughing as her tears and happiness met in a jumble of emotion.

  Alex leaned back to look into her face. “I’ve always loved you, you know,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

  “I love you too,” she whispered, amazed at the turn of events. Alex kissed her then, tentatively at first, his lips soft on hers. But as emotion flowed between them, it changed from heartfelt feelings to white-hot passion, and the kisses became desperate and needy. Weeks of pent-up tension turned to flame, and Alex scooped Katie up to set her on the counter. Her legs wound around his hips as his hands slid under her shirt to slip it over her head.

  A horn blared outside followed by a gaggle of voices and laughter, as car doors slam closed. Katie wrenched from Alex’s arms and sprang off the counter, struggling to get her shirt pulled on. “The open house!” she cried, heading for the door. But he reached out to snag her wrist.

  “You may want to put some clothes on first,” he chuckled.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Alex stood back from the crowd, watching as the people of Smithville moved around and between the trailers, chatting and carrying donuts on napkins. He leaned against the end of Katie’s trailer, keeping his distance.

  The morning had been raw, and he felt as if he’d been yanked through a knothole backwards. Yet he also felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

  Part of his relief was due to the fact that he’d patched things up with Katie. He tilted his head to one side, watching her as she talked to Winnie, using her hands as she spoke. She looked delectable in her little shorts, with her hair down brushing her shoulders.

  He shifted his feet and brushed one finger under his nose. No doubt the dominant part of his mood was due to the fact that he’d finally told someone what had happened to him. Up to now, he’d felt it was no one’s business but his, and he didn’t feel it was right to unload on his family -- they’d been through enough worry about him. But he’d been wrong. Hershel had told him he needed to talk about it, but he hadn’t been ready.

  It hadn’t occurred to him that someone might want to share his pain, bear his burden, as it were. And he hadn’t realized that his load would feel so much lighter once he spoke of it. He should have known that Katie’s shoulders were strong and she could manage his pain. And talking to her may even allow her to feel as if she could share her own problems.

  Katie looked his way and a grin lit his face. She smiled in return, and he pushed away from the trailer to head her way.

  * * *

  As the crowd thinned, Becky sidled up to Alex, sipping lukewarm chocolate from a foam cup. “You did good here, young man,” she said.

 
; Smiling at the bright red lipstick mark on Becky’s cup, he shrugged in dismissal.

  “I’m serious,” she continued, craning her neck to look up at him. “I’ve been worried about how Katie would manage alone.”

  “She’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”

  “Oh, I know, but…”

  Alex could sense that Becky had more to say. How unexpected. He chuckled to himself.

  “I need to tell you something,” she stated, her face uncharacteristically serious.

  He waited. Becky was always animated, but he’d never seen this particular expression before.

  “I have a secret,” she admitted.

  Alex held back a laugh, knowing that she was the last person in town who could keep a secret.

  “It’s about Hershel,” she added, causing Alex to lose any sense of mirth and snap to attention. “What is it?”

  Becky waved one sparkling hand. “Oh, it’s not—” Beginning again, Becky’s face screwed into a poignant smile and tears glittered in her eyes. Her eyelashes fluttered to hold them at bay. “I couldn’t help but notice that you and Katie are close,” she said, her pleasure obvious. “And I’m so happy for you both. But…”

  His expression grew wary.

  “I want to tell you my secret, because it has to do with Katie.”

  “Okay—” he drawled.

  She shook her head, her countenance turning even more dejected. “I had hoped Katie would see fit to confide in me, but—” She sniffed and dabbed at her nose with a napkin.

  Alex shoved his hands in his pockets in order to keep from shaking the woman, to make her blurt out what was on her mind.

  Becky took a deep breath. “Hershel confided in me years ago, and I have kept his secret.”

  He waited, leaning toward her in anticipation.