Honeysuckle Hollow

by Jennifer Moorman

  He yawned and sat up on the couch. Tessa tried looking directly at him, but his lack of clothing caused her cheeks to burn. She glanced at a spot on the wall above his head. He reached for his watch on the coffee table and checked the time.

  “Where are you off to so early?”

  “Honeysuckle Hollow. They’re going to tear it down by eight.”

  “And you’re going to assist them?”

  Tessa frowned. “Of course not. I’m going…well, I don’t know why I’m going exactly, but I want to be there.”

  “You’re not going to chain yourself to the front porch are you?”

  Tessa laughed.

  “Because I don’t think that old, angry guy would hesitate to bulldoze right over you.”

  She sighed, and the mint plant wiggled in its pot. “I want to see it. Before it’s gone.”

  Paul reached for his T-shirt and tugged it over his head. “Did you make us coffee or breakfast?”

  Tessa snorted. “Why would I make anything when I have your folks downstairs?”

  “Excellent question.” Paul rubbed his eyes before standing and stretching his arms over his head.

  Tessa tried not to stare and failed. Her fingers itched to text Lily and Anna and tell them she had decided to stay in the same apartment with Paul without having all five numbers filled in on her list. But it was worth ignoring the list because she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an attractive man in her living room—or temporary living room.

  “Why does it look like we’re in a cloudy snow globe?” he asked.

  “Early morning fog.”

  Watery sparkles twinkled across the dark wood floors. Paul toed a few with his bare foot.

  Tessa cleared her throat. “You’re leaving today?”

  “This afternoon.”

  Tessa stepped toward him and held out her hand, feeling a twinge of regret. “It was nice to meet you. I hope you have a safe trip to the Cook Islands. I look forward to reading your story in print.”

  Paul’s cheek dimpled. He stepped around the coffee table, reached for her hand, grabbed it, and tugged her into a hug. Tessa stumbled against his chest and made a noise that sounded like oomph as her breath squeezed out. On the next inhale, she breathed in the scent of cloves. She couldn’t control herself from relishing the feel of his arms around her, and she sighed. He let go and righted her.

  “Did you just sigh?” he asked with a goofy grin.

  Tessa’s stomach clenched. “No,” she said defensively. “I was breathing. You nearly squeezed me to death.”

  “This was an unexpected rooming situation, Ms. Tessa, but I thank you for your hospitality.”

  “Safe travels,” she said. “I’ll put a pin on the islands after you’re gone.” Disappointment crept into her chest, but she managed to smile.

  “Oh, good, a stalker. I like it,” he said.

  Tessa lifted her hand in a small wave, shouldered her bag, and walked out into the whiteness. A wall of fog rolled into the apartment, and Paul crossed the room to stand in the doorway. Tessa was trying to navigate the stairs without missing one, but she felt half blind in the haze.

  “You’re disappearing,” he called from the landing. “You sure it’s safe to drive in this?”

  Tessa hesitated halfway down the staircase. Hope flared in her; she gripped the handrail tighter. If the fog was this thick everywhere, would it stop the bulldozer? And then what, Tessa? she asked herself. No answer reached her through the dense fog. She glanced up at Paul’s ghostly silhouette at the top of the stairs.

  “I’m hoping no one will be out in this weather.”

  “Does that hope for no one include the bulldozing bullies?”

  Tessa smiled.

  Tessa could have arrived at Honeysuckle Hollow faster if she had walked rather than driven. Navigating the cloudy streets made her feel as though at each corner she just might fall off the edge of the world. Every now and then the lights of an approaching car peeked out of the fog like the glowing eyes of a dragon. By the time Tessa reached Dogwood Lane, her fingers were sore from the death grip she had on the steering wheel.

  She parked the Great Pumpkin along the street. Then she sighed and sagged against the seat. “Let’s get this over with.” It’ll be easy, right?

  She walked up the sidewalk, parting the fog like a boat rowing through a swamp. As she neared Honeysuckle Hollow, she saw that the bulldozer had already arrived, and it sat waiting across the street. The old gnome and the young man argued in the front yard, looking like two ghosts rising from mist. Fog encircled their legs and crept around their waists. The gnome’s temper had not improved since the day before, and the fluorescent shirt on the young man made him look like a human glow stick.

  “Listen, Joe,” the young man said, “I can’t control the weather. It’s not safe to run this machine in this kind of visibility. You can’t even see the front door from across the street.”

  “You young people and your excuses,” Joe growled. “I’ll do it myself.”

  “Joe, you know you’re not allowed to drive the dozer. It’s company policy.”

  Joe shoved the young man out of the way and stormed across the street. The young man chased after him, yelling at Joe to get off the trailer and then to get out of the bulldozer and then not to dare start it up. The bulldozer rumbled as the engine started. The trailer shuddered. While Tessa watched, Joe backed the bulldozer off the trailer and into the street. The yellow monster lurched across Dogwood Lane with grinding gears. Tessa felt the irrational desire to jump in front of the machine and beg Joe to stop, but even through the mist, she could see Joe glowering in the cab.

  The young man hopped up and down beside the bulldozer, waving his arms like an inflatable windsock. His yells were lost to the noisy roar of the diesel engine. The bulldozer’s blade dropped onto the sidewalk, cracking the concrete, and pushed forward. Tessa backed away, clutching her purse to her chest and feeling the sting of tears. She thought of Dr. Matthias Hamilton and the beautiful damask roses he used to share with everyone in the neighborhood. She thought of the hundreds of guests who’d ended up on Honeysuckle Hollow’s doorstep in need and how the house had always opened it doors. Could they have ever imagined the house would be flattened for a Fat Betty’s?

  The bulldozer pushed through the yard, ripping and tearing the earth, and when Tessa heard the splinter of wood as the stairs were crushed into the front porch, she plugged her fingers into her ears. But before she could inhale another breath, the noise stopped. Everything stopped. Tessa lowered her hands and opened her eyes. The bulldozer sat in the front yard like a toad. The fog rolled toward it and hovered around the tires. The young man stood gaping at the machine while Joe swung open the cab’s door.

  “What in the hell is wrong with this thing?” he barked. “It drives like it’s drunk and the engine is failing. I can’t even get the damn keys out of the ignition.”

  Without provocation the engine turned over, and the bulldozer reversed. Joe worked the gears as it jerked backward across the street. In the middle of Dogwood Lane, the bulldozer’s engine died, blocking any traffic from being able to pass on either side. The young man ran to the machine.

  “Joe, I’m not gonna ask you again. Get out of the dozer. You know I have to report this.”

  Joe climbed down and glared at the machine. Tessa inched forward to survey the damage. The two men continued to argue in the street, and Tessa walked to the gaping hole created by the bulldozer’s blade. The front part of the porch was demolished, and two of the columns cracked, causing the roofline to sag.

  A gust of wind blew across the yard. The fog swirled in the hole like a whirlpool before emptying, revealing a long slender shaft of wood partially covered with earth. Tessa knelt and reached for the object. She tugged, but the ground wouldn’t release it. She eased down into the hole and dug around with her hands in the wet soil until she freed an arrowhead-tipped spear.

  Tessa climbed out of the hole with the object. She ru
bbed her fingers across the staff, which removed clotted dirt clinging to the spear, and exposed words that had been carved into the wood. Tessa’s fingers tingled, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. Her breath exhaled in short puffs.

  “Ma’am?” a voice called.

  Tessa lowered the staff to her side and slowly eased it behind her back. The young man stood on the ruined sidewalk.

  “Whatcha got there?” he asked.

  “Oh, just some junk from the hole.”

  “Did Ralph send you over this morning?”

  “No,” Tessa answered. “But I’m working with the owner of this house too.” Sort of.

  “I don’t know where Ralph is, but I’ve got to call a tow to get this dozer out of the street—” He stopped talking because his cell phone rang. Based on the conversation, Tessa knew the caller was Ralph. After he ended the call, the young man said, “Ralph’s car died about two miles away. We’ll reschedule. Doesn’t seem like this house wants to be torn down. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

  Tessa’s hands trembled, and she smiled at Honeysuckle Hollow. “We gained another day,” she said to the house as the young man walked away.

  Joe yelled into his cell phone as he climbed into his truck, and Tessa’s eyebrows rose at his creative use of swear words combined with new ways to describe a broken-down bulldozer. Once Joe’s truck disappeared into the fog and the young man was preoccupied with his phone, Tessa waded down the sidewalk through the haze and climbed into the Great Pumpkin.

  She laid the spear on the passenger seat. Tessa wasn’t sure how old it was, but she assumed the arrowhead spear was a Native American relic, which meant it had to be more than a hundred years old. She snapped a few pictures of the object using her cell phone, and she e-mailed them to Wenton McDougal, a college professor she knew who worked at the university a couple of hours north of Mystic Water. She wrote, Found this beneath an historic home that’s been standing for more than one hundred years. She added, I didn’t steal it, but she erased the last sentence because a voice in her head asked, Oh yeah? Then what is it doing in your car?

  “I can return it later,” she said, trying to placate the accusatory voice in her head.

  Tessa dropped her phone into her purse, turned the engine for the Great Pumpkin, and did a U-turn on Dogwood Lane since the bulldozer blocked the street. She needed to go to her office and answer calls and check her e-mail, so she crept along the streets toward town.

  Around the river, the fog was especially dense, and Tessa slowed the car to less than fifteen miles per hour. As she passed the road that led out of town, the Great Pumpkin made an awful wheezing noise followed by a shudder that made her teeth clatter. She steered the car toward the side of the road, and it rolled to a stop. Tessa turned off the engine and then turned the key again. Nothing happened. She pressed the gas a few times, smashed her foot against the brake, and then tried the ignition again. Nothing. She dropped her head against the wheel.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” she groaned. She glanced toward the spear. “Is this because I stole? Because I was going to take you back.”

  Tessa’s shoulders slumped. She grabbed her phone and got out. After several minutes, Tessa figured out how to release the hood, but when she propped open the hood, she had no idea what she was looking for. Smoke and fog mingled together and made it nearly impossible for her to even see the engine parts. And even if she could see a problem, it wasn’t as though she could fix it.

  Before she could call a mechanic, car lights knifed through the fog. The black car pulled up beside her, and the passenger-side window rolled down. The man behind the wheel leaned into the passenger seat, and Tessa bent over to see his face.

  She shook her head in disbelief. “Of course it’s you.”

  Paul grinned at her. “Don’t tell me the Great Pumpkin has given you his last.”

  Tessa motioned over her shoulder. “I’m not giving up on him yet. I was just about to call the mechanic.”

  “Get in,” Paul said. “I’ll give you a lift.”

  “You look like you’re on your way out of town. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

  Paul tossed his bag into the backseat, making room for Tessa beside him. “Nonsense. Besides, I like this whole damsel in distress bit. Makes me feel chivalrous. I can’t remember the last time I picked up a woman from the side of the road.”

  Tessa snorted. “I hope never.”

  Paul’s laugh carried out the window and dispersed the fog around the car. Tessa grabbed her purse and the spear. Then she locked the Great Pumpkin, lowered its hood, and climbed into Paul’s car.

  “What have you got there?” he asked, reaching for the spear.

  “Careful. The arrowhead is still sharp. I found it at the house.”

  “Looks like you found it in a mud pile.” He rubbed his fingers over the carved words.

  “Close enough.”

  Paul’s eyebrow quirked.

  “Oh okay, the bulldozer dug up the porch and died. I climbed into the hole it made and found this.”

  “You pilfered this from the house site?” Paul’s blue eyes shone with amusement.

  “You make me sound like a thief.” She frowned.

  “I’m just assessing the facts. But the bulldozer died? Again?”

  “At present, it’s stuck in the middle of Dogwood Lane.”

  “Maybe you’re Honeysuckle Hollow’s good luck charm, Ms. Tessa.”

  She smiled at the thought.

  Paul studied the spear. “This is old. Quite old. And wooden, which makes it unusual because it’s in such good shape. You’d think the wood would show signs of rot, but I don’t see any. I’ve never seen this type of carving on a spear before. It’s definitely Native American, and I’m guessing it’s the language of a tribe.”

  “I sent a few photos of it to a friend who works at the university,” she said. “He’s a professor of anthropology.”

  “I think you might have found something special here,” Paul said. “I’d be interested to see what he says.”

  Tessa glanced over her shoulder at Paul’s bag in the backseat. “But aren’t you leaving?”

  “Soon enough,” he said. “Now where should I take you? Home?”

  Home. The word crept into Tessa’s chest like fog and pushed out her breath. “Which would mean you’re taking me nowhere,” she said, aware of how sullen she sounded.

  Paul shifted the car into gear. “The apartment it is.” He pulled away from the curb and drove back toward town.

  Tessa rolled the spear round and round between her palms, dirtying her hands and fingers. She hadn’t heard from Lily or Anna or even her mama all day, and now her only transportation had given up on her too. What next? Locusts?

  12

  Thieves on the Run

  Tessa’s mood continued to sour as Paul drove them toward the diner. He seemed oblivious to the dark cloud drifting over her, and she envied his ability to adapt and live without a permanent home or the need for one.

  As though reading her mind, Paul interrupted the silence. “A temporary home is better than no home.”

  Tessa stared out the window at the walls of fog surrounding them. “You’d know,” she said before she realized how rude the truth of it sounded.

  Paul glanced at her in surprise before pulling into a parking spot in front of the diner. “Better than anyone.” He opened his door, climbed out, and shut it without saying another word.

  Tessa groaned at her lack of tact. Guilt gouged through her gut and forced her out of the car in a hurry. She clutched the spear and slung her purse over her arm.

  “Paul,” she called. He stopped on the sidewalk and turned to look at her. “Thank you for the ride, and…I’m sorry. What I said was rude.”

  Paul lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. “You think the truth is always kind?”

  “But you like your life. All the traveling and not having a permanent place, right?”

  “Do I?”

  Ev
en through the fog, she could see how blue his eyes were—how blue and how questioning. Sunlight created sparkles in the air around them. Not having a place to call her own was slowly breaking apart Tessa’s feelings of security and comfort. She didn’t understand how anyone could live so carefree, never knowing where he might land, but if anyone could enjoy it, she imagined Paul was the perfect fit for that lifestyle. But now his eyes looked full of uncertainty. He broke the tension by smiling at her.

  “Since I’m still here, I’m going to have brunch. Mom will likely stuff me full of food, and I’ll fall into an after-brunch food coma, which means I’ll need a nap before I attempt to leave again. If you hear from your professor friend, let me know what he says about your thievery.”

  “I’m not a thief. I borrowed this,” she said. “I was going to take it back.”

  “To the hole?”

  “Yes.”

  “I bet.”

  She narrowed her eyes. She knew he was teasing her, but her composure felt fractured, and her emotions were unwieldy. “I’m going to work.” She turned away from him and walked up the sidewalk in the opposite direction.

  “Hey, Ms. Tessa, should I borrow food from the diner for you? Are you hungry?”

  “I kind of hate you right now,” she said without looking at him.

  Paul’s laughter echoed down the sidewalk, rippled over her skin like a wave of heat, and shoved the fog ten feet away from them in every direction. She looked at him over her shoulder, saw him still smiling at her, and she wasn’t the least bit sorry he’d been the one to rescue her from the side of the road.

  Tessa called the local mechanic, and he promised he would tow the Great Pumpkin before nightfall. Their shop was backed up with calls from people who’d tried to brave the unusual weather and ended up in ditches all over town. He also told her he had received a call to tow a bulldozer for the first time ever. Tessa didn’t mention she had been there on Dogwood Lane when the bulldozer refused to cooperate.

  She went through her e-mails and returned phone calls. Her clients wanted to reschedule their showings because of the weather, and she had her entire calendar rearranged before noon. Just as her stomach growled, a new e-mail from Professor Wenton McDougal popped up on her screen. He wrote, Looks old. I forwarded the pictures (I hope you don’t mind) to one of my colleagues, Austenaco (Austen) Blackstone, because he is a paleoanthropologist with an emphasis in Native American studies. He asked for your number, and I gave it to him (I hope you don’t mind). He said he would like to speak with you once his classes are done this morning. Hope all is well, Tessa.