by Tari Faris
Austin pulled up the directions on his phone. The quicker he left, the quicker today’s stress would melt away.
On the app, an icon indicated an accident, and a dark red line followed US 31 South. Exactly where he needed to go.
With traffic, he was looking at a forty-five-minute drive. No way he’d get the truck back in thirty minutes.
Terrific.
Numbers ran through his mind of how much this was going to cost him.
He dug the keys out of his front pocket, unlocked the truck, and slid behind the wheel, resisting the urge to slam his fist against the dash. He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening.
He needed to find another job fast or figure out how he was going to work with Nate. Because history had proven he and his brother were an explosive combination.
Maybe breeding his dog was the better option. He pulled up the number he’d been given for a possible stud appointment and hit Send. After all, a houseful of puppies would be easier than working with his brother.
two
The ride back to Heritage had to have been one of the longest in his life. Austin slid out of Nate’s church van and offered a wave over his shoulder to his brother. “Thanks for the ride.”
Nate only nodded.
Grant rolled down the passenger-side window. “Caroline and I’ll stop by in a bit before we take off.”
Austin nodded at Grant and jogged to the door, avoiding the third step of the porch. He’d nearly twisted his knee that morning when the step shifted under him while he carried in the recliner. The steps had definitely moved up on the list of things to fix in this place—the very long list.
Austin wiggled the key in the front door a few times before the rusted dead bolt gave. The previous owner hadn’t thought locking the door was necessary. He’d never quite understand small towns. Stepping over a few boxes, Austin dropped his keys on the chipped Formica countertop and whistled for Shiro. Nothing.
His phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket. “Hello?”
“Hello. This is Lisa. You left a message about breeding your dog?”
“Yes. She’s a purebred Japanese Akita.” He snapped for Shiro but still got no response.
Lisa took his email address for some paperwork she’d need to send him, then rattled off a list of details. If he let her keep the puppy of her choice from the litter, it wouldn’t cost him anything up front. This was the perfect arrangement for his cash flow problem.
Digging through what was left behind in an old junk drawer, Austin pulled out a scratch pad and Sharpie and scribbled as much as he could with the partially dried-out marker. After agreeing on a time the next day, he hung up and leaned against the wall.
If this worked out, it might be enough income for him to hire an assistant. Nate was right when he’d said he needed one, but working with his brother, even if it made the most financial sense, was a bad idea for everyone.
Austin pulled a Coke from the fridge and cracked it open. It wouldn’t be that bad. Shiro would make a great mom. Where was that dog anyway? Austin walked through the kitchen toward the mudroom and froze. The back door stood open and a dog-sized hole had been punched through the screen. Guess it was time to fix the latch on the back door too.
He sighed and walked out on the back deck. “Shiro.”
Shiro ran toward him at full speed from behind his makeshift greenhouse. He knelt to greet her just as a yellow Lab ran to catch up. A male yellow Lab with an in-heat Shiro.
No. No. No.
Maybe they didn’t. Maybe it was fine. Ugh. It wasn’t like he could ask.
Austin grabbed the strange dog by the collar and pulled him toward the gate.
“Darcy,” a female voice yelled from outside his fence. The dog in his hands perked up at the sound, pulled free of his grasp, and ran toward the voice.
Austin followed him around the corner and nearly collided with a leggy blonde who would make him take a second look on most days. But not when her dog might have cost him ten thousand dollars.
“Don’t scare me like that. You can’t run off. I need you.” She knelt next to the dog and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you. I’ve been looking for him for more than an hour.”
“Maybe you should have looked in the hole he dug from your backyard to mine.” Austin pointed to a sizable hole under the fence. His voice came out harsher than he intended, but what woman let her dog run free like that?
“I—I’m sorry.” Her head snapped up as her blue eyes rounded. “I did look in your yard first. He must have roamed the neighborhood and circled back.”
The doe-eyed look wouldn’t work on him. Becky had that particular manipulation perfected, and he refused to fall for it again. “He wouldn’t have run off if you’d had him on a leash.”
“I thought the yard was fenced.” The woman stood, keeping one hand on the dog’s collar. She wiped her other hand across her tearstained face and pushed her honey-blonde hair behind her shoulders. She lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes, highlighting a faint trace of freckles across her nose. There weren’t enough to make her look youthful. Just enough to deflate his anger a bit.
He blinked and focused on the dog. The last thing he needed in this town was to form some sort of attachment. Especially with someone who didn’t seem to have her life together. He shook the thought away and tried to catch up with the rant going on in front of him.
“—and Darcy may have used that hole, but he didn’t dig it. Look at his paws. They aren’t dirty enough for that.”
“Just keep your dog on that side of the hippo, would you?” He pointed at the brass hippo that lay on its belly on the sidewalk. What a strange place to put a statue.
“But the hippo—”
He didn’t hang around to hear what she had to say about the odd town decoration. He secured his gate and turned to face his dog. Shiro lay next to the hole with her nose partway in as if waiting for that blasted Darcy to pop through again at any moment.
From this side of the fence the hole was hidden by a patch of tall weeds. He knelt and studied the dirt that had been disguised by the poorly trimmed lawn. The woman was right. The way this dirt was packed, there was no way the hole had been dug today. Which meant he hadn’t checked the yard properly this morning, and he was lucky a friendly yellow Lab was the worst of it.
Austin stood, grabbed a few river rocks from the garden, and dropped them in the hole. A mistake like this wasn’t like him. Maybe moving his dad into the care home had been harder on him than he’d realized.
He strode back to his house and yanked open the back door. “Shiro, come.”
Her white ears lay flat as her head stooped lower.
Austin drew a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. This wasn’t the dog’s fault. None of this was. Not his dad’s disease, not Nate, not the job, not Austin’s irresponsibility, not even the insufferable beautiful neighbor or her out-of-control dog.
“Shiro.” He did his best to make his voice light. “Come on, girl. I’m sorry.”
The dog trotted toward him and nuzzled her snout in his leg. Austin knelt and dug his fingers into the thick fur around her neck, bringing a contented groan from her.
“Knock knock.” Grant opened the front door with Caroline at his heels.
“Please tell me your rent is ridiculously low, Austin. This place is a little gross. Who is your landlord?” Caroline tucked her red hair behind her shoulder as she scanned the room. She paused in front of the couch but didn’t sit.
“The mayor just bought it.” Austin pulled a clean sheet from a box and spread it over the couch. “He offered me cheap rent if I do work. Mostly just tearing things out so new cabinets, counters, and floors can be installed.”
“What does Becky think of it?” Caroline sat on the edge of the sheet but didn’t sink back into the couch.
“We broke up.”
Grant and Caroline exchanged a look before Caroline finally spoke. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, r
ight.” Austin spread another sheet over a recliner for himself as Grant settled next to Caroline. “Don’t try to pretend that you aren’t inwardly throwing a party.”
“Are you upset?” Caroline rested against her husband.
“Actually, no. I feel . . . relieved.” Austin leaned forward on his knees, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you know I tried to break up with her four different times over the past few months but she always talked me out of it? She should have been a lawyer.”
“That’s called manipulation. One of the many reasons I never liked you with her.” Caroline pounded the couch with a fist, sending a bit of dust up. “I think you only started dating her because your dad liked her. But that was all a part of her act too.”
“Easy, fighter.” Grant rubbed Caroline’s back as he let out a chuckle. “They broke up. It’s over.”
“Are you sure you’re over her this time?” Caroline pinned Austin with a glare.
“She said if I came to Heritage not to bother calling again.” He held out his hands. “Here I am.”
“Where’s the ring?”
“I wasn’t that lucky.”
“But she let you keep Shiro?” Caroline snapped her fingers, and Shiro wandered over and nuzzled her face in Caroline’s hand.
“She never had an interest in Shiro after we brought her home. I think it was all a power play to see if she could get me to spend that much money on a dog. Speaking of which, how long until you know if a dog is pregnant?”
“At least twenty days.” Caroline ran her fingers through Shiro’s thick fur. “Did you decide to breed her?”
“Yes. No. Yes, I decided to breed her. I called about a stud appointment, but I just found her with another male dog.”
Grant broke into a full laugh. “Let me guess. The other dog isn’t a purebred Japanese Akita.”
“Lab. Do I have to cancel the appointment?”
Caroline struggled to suppress a smile and failed. “I’m sorry. You really should cancel it. If you go, you could have a multiple-sired litter. Then you’d have to go through DNA testing for the pups before you could file for their papers. With no guarantee there would be any purebreds, you could lose money. You should really wait six months until she’s in heat again.”
Austin dropped his head in his hands and closed his eyes.
Twenty days until he knew if she was pregnant. Six months until he could breed her again. Three months until he’d have to file for bankruptcy.
Looked like hiring an assistant instead of Nate was no longer an option.
Nothing was as bad as it first seemed. This was Libby’s new motto for life, but if this was what the town considered a library, there might be exceptions. Stepping farther into the room, she surveyed the tight rows of novels covered in an inch of dust. A yellowed sign with “New Releases” in stenciled marker hung above the shelf.
Libby pulled a book off and sneezed as the dust plumed in the air. As she flipped it open to the copyright page, her stomach dropped. 1993. The library had been closed for more than twenty-five years. That was why the computer on the desk still had a slot for floppy disks. It probably ran on DOS.
“She needs a bit of dusting, I’d say.”
A heavyset man with a wide grin peeking out below a thick mustache stood in the doorway. He brushed what was left of his gray hair to the side and extended his hand. “Mayor Jameson.”
She closed the distance to the door and shook his hand. “I’m Libby Kingsley. Hannah told me about you.”
“And she told me all about you.” He laced his fingers across his belly and eyeballed the room. “It’s not much, but I’m sure with your experience it’ll be top-notch in no time.”
Top-notch? Right now she’d settle for passing health code.
“Did Luke say you had a budget for new books?” One of the fluorescent lights flickered overhead at an irregular rate as it hummed. “Or a new building?”
Okay, so Luke hadn’t mentioned a new building, but dropping a few hints wouldn’t hurt.
His head bobbed. “Some. Don’t worry about that yet. One step at a time. Maybe we should start with an inventory of what we have. Wouldn’t want duplicate books.”
As long as she ordered titles from this century, she was safe.
Libby forced a smile in place as the man turned back to the door. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m just up the stairs and down the hall.”
One big cozy town hall family. Who put the library in the basement of the town hall? Maybe she’d understand if it was centrally located, but this building couldn’t even boast that.
Luke had hinted it’d take a lot of work, but she never imagined this. This library didn’t need to be reopened. It needed to be resuscitated. She coughed against more dust.
Time for some fresh air.
Libby shut the door behind her and locked it. Not that anyone would want to steal anything. If someone did, at least they could claim insurance.
As soon as she got home, she slipped on some tennis shoes. Michigan summer didn’t get better than today, and she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to go exploring with Petunia. And if she ever needed the stress relief that Petunia offered, that was today.
Darcy nudged her leg, and Libby knelt and scratched his ears. She wasn’t the only one anxious to enjoy the weather. “I’ll take you for a walk this afternoon.”
A solid knock echoed through the house.
The only person Libby had met in town wouldn’t be knocking on her door. Mr. Mean Hot Neighbor—as she’d started referring to him—had disappeared into his house when she went out to get the mail. And lucky her, she still had to deliver the cookies. Or what was left of them.
Another knock rattled the front door as she approached with slow steps. They were determined, she’d give them that. Maybe she’d peek out the living room window before opening the door to a stranger.
Libby pulled aside the curtain, only to find a tall platinum blonde with her hands cupped over her face peeking back. Libby screamed. The woman straightened to a height that had to be near six feet, waved, and hurried back to the door, waiting for it to open. As if peeking in a person’s windows was perfectly acceptable.
Libby inched open the door. “May I help you?”
The blonde’s flawless face lit up. “Libby, right? I’m Olivia.”
Olivia’s smile held as if that explained it all. Libby searched her mind back to Luke’s wedding, but she’d met a lot of people that day.
“I’m Janie’s sister and Hannah’s friend. I met you briefly at the wedding, but I don’t expect you to remember that.”
“Right.” Libby relaxed her grip on the door and opened it a bit wider.
Olivia must have taken that for an invitation. Stepping past Libby, she walked in and plopped down on the couch, welcoming the two dogs as they nudged closer for her affection. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, but life’s been crazy.”
Small-town friendliness was as unsettling as it was funny. But there was no doubt Libby liked Olivia. And why not? The girl oozed confidence. What Libby wouldn’t give to be able to enter a room like that.
When Libby didn’t comment, Olivia jumped in again. “I talked to Hannah a few minutes ago. Looks like they’re transferring them to U of M.”
Libby dropped into the recliner opposite Olivia. Ann Arbor? Warmth drained from her face. That was more than three hours away.
“You didn’t know. I’m sorry. I happened to call right after the doctor was there. And they only told me a few things and then had to hang up because another doctor was walking in. But don’t worry, they’re great, the baby is great. I’m sure they’ll call you when they have more details.”
Libby drew a few slow breaths. “Healthy baby is good. Did Luke say where he’d stay?”
“He doesn’t want to be far away. He’s working on his contractor’s license through online classes and said he can do that anywhere. He also said something about looking for a house to buy that only needed minor interio
r work. It’d give him a place to stay. And he could work on it in the evenings. Hopefully sell it for a small profit in a few months.”
“Makes sense.” Libby wrapped her hands around her middle. She refused to fall apart in front of a stranger. “He inherited a lot of money from a grandmother he didn’t know he had. I know he wanted to start investing in real estate.”
“He’s so good at that type of stuff.”
“So, you’ve been assigned as my friend until they get back?” Libby released a little laugh. How sad was she that her family felt they needed to arrange friends for her?
Olivia winced. “Not like that. I mean, I’m leaving town myself in a week or two for a job—Lord willing. They were just worried about you.”
“Worried?”
“They said they were afraid you’d hightail it out of town if they didn’t get back soon.” She offered a laugh. “But I told them there was no way. Heritage was lucky to have you, and besides, who wouldn’t love this place?”
Pressure built in Libby’s chest. No. She blinked hard, but the tears still filled her eyes. A small hiccup escaped as a steady flow of tears ran down her face.
Olivia rushed forward. “Oh, sweetie. Are you okay? Tell me everything.”
“I should never have moved here. What made me think I could do this? I wanted to be brave—strong.” She stood and paced to the mantel. A wedding photo sat on top next to the word “Home,” which had been spelled out in large wooden letters. “But I’m not. I can’t make a home here. All I’ve done is move from my parents’ extra room to Luke and Hannah’s extra room. I’m still hiding. And I tried to make friends, be neighborly, but he yelled at me.”
“Someone yelled at you?”
“Then there’s my job.”
“The library?”
“That’s not a library. It’s a dust-mite breeding zone or at best a literary graveyard, but not a library. Who puts a library in a stinky basement?”
“Heritage is full of quirks. Some are more likeable. Like Otis. I saw he was here to greet you, but he moved over by the diner this morning.” Olivia stood and propped her hands on her hips. “Let’s start at the beginning. I told Hannah and Luke I’d make sure you were taken care of, and that’s what I’ll do. What are you doing right now?”
