Today, Lauren had sent her to the flea market looking for unique items they could use in displays at the gallery. So far she’d found a wooden tray she hoped to refinish, an unusual willow basket, and eight old leather-bound books.
This booth looked promising with several tables of dishes and decorative glass as well as a few pieces of wooden furniture at the back. Maybe she’d find something truly valuable hidden among the junk and be able to surprise Lauren.
She spotted an old wooden pie safe painted an awful aqua blue and made her way toward it. It stood about five feet tall and about forty inches wide. The chipped and peeling paint would have to go, but underneath she suspected she’d find beautiful wood. She ran her hand over the decorative design punched in one of the front tin panels and admired the repeated heart pattern.
“That’s a real beauty.” A man wearing a beige hat decorated with several fishing lures stepped forward. His proud stance announced he was the owner of the pie safe and all the other second-hand treasures on display. “That’s a genuine antique, not one of those shoddy reproductions,” he added with a lift of his gray eyebrows.
“Yes, I can see that.” She reached for the drawer handle. “Mind if I take a peek?”
“No, go right ahead.” He stepped back, watching her, his old brown eyes alight with interest.
She pulled open the drawer and inspected the inside. The dovetail corners looked sturdy and well made. The tin panels were in good condition with only a few minor dents. Lauren had a similar piece in the gallery, and though this one was smaller, she knew if it were refinished it would be worth three to four hundred, maybe more. She looked up and caught the vendor’s eye. “How much are you asking?”
He squinted and pressed his lips together. “Well, I don’t think I can let it go for less than three hundred.”
Jenn released a wistful sigh. So much for finding a bargain. The man obviously knew the value of antiques.
“Come on, Denny, you know it’s not worth half that much.”
Jenn turned and found Bill standing behind a few feet away. A dizzy current raced through her. How long had he been there? Evidently long enough to catch her conversation about the pie safe.
Bill winked then moved closer and ran his hand along the peeling paint on the top edge. “It’s all scratched up. She’d have to refinish it.”
Denny chuckled. “What are you trying to do? Run me out of business?”
Bill retuned a lazy grin. “No, I’m just not sure Jenn knows she’s supposed to dicker with you.”
“She’s a friend of yours?”
“Yes, she is, so you better treat her right.” Bill turned to her. “Jennifer Evans, this is Denny Tremont, owner of The Second Time Around in West Harmon.”
Jenn smiled and shook Denny’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same here.” He crossed his arms and studied her with a serious gaze. “Now, if you want the pie safe, you have to make me a counter offer.”
Jenn bit her lip, trying to figure out the game. “Well, I only have—”
Bill held up his hand. “First rule in dickering—never tell him how much you have.”
Though she liked to shop for bargains, she didn’t like to haggle with anyone over the price. She sent Bill a questioning look.
“You’re supposed to make him an offer that’s lower than you’re willing to pay, knowing you’ll have to come up a little as he comes down.”
Jenn mentally counted the money in her pocket then shifted her gaze to Denny. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars.”
Denny laughed. “You’re kidding, right? No way will I let it go for less than two hundred and fifty.”
That stopped her for a moment. Then she realized she’d made Denny come down fifty dollars, and she grinned at Bill. Straightening her shoulders, she focused on Denny. “It’s going to take me a long time to scrape off that old paint. And it’ll cost a lot to buy the supplies I need to refinish it. I don’t think I want to pay more than one seventy-five.”
Denny studied her and rubbed his chin. “Well, since you’re a friend of Bill’s I could come down to two twenty-five, but that’s as low as I’m gonna’ go.”
Jenn glanced at Bill. She didn’t have that much. Was that the end of the game?
“Come on, Denny, why don’t you give the lady a deal?”
Denny lifted his hat and rubbed his hand over his shiny, bald head. “Oh, all right. Two hundred, but I must be crazy to let it go for that price.”
Jenn reached in her pocket and pulled out all the money she had. “I can give you one seventy-five, but that’s all I’ve got.”
“That’s a good deal, Denny. You get the cash, and you won’t have to haul that heavy thing home this afternoon.”
Denny lowered his gaze to the cash in her hand. “Okay, you can have it for one seventy-five.”
“Thanks.” She turned to Bill and found him grinning, a look of approval in his eyes. “I never dickered for anything before,” she said with a little laugh.
Behind her, Denny groaned.
“You better just pay the man before he changes his mind. We can gloat over your victory later.”
Jenn turned to Denny and counted the bills into his hand. But when she reached one hundred fifty-five, she ran out of cash. Her face flushed and embarrassment coursed through her. “I’m sorry, I thought for sure I had one seventy-five.”
Denny scowled and quickly recounted the money.
She felt perspiration gathering on her cheeks as she watched him.
“One fifty-five.” Denny leveled his perturbed gaze at her.
Bill pulled a twenty from his shirt pocket and handed it to him. “One seventy-five.”
Denny’s expression immediately softened. “Oh, you two were just trying to get me riled up. You had the money all the time.”
She opened her mouth to protest.
But Bill stopped her with a little shake of his head. “Will you hold on to the pie safe while we finish shopping?”
“Sure thing. I’ll be here until two.”
Bill placed his hand at the small of her back and guided her out of the tent. “You’re quite the negotiator,” he said, bending close so only she could hear. They stepped into the sun, and he dropped his hand.
She wished he hadn’t, then quickly told herself she was making too much out of the caring gesture. She needed to stop imagining there was more than friendship on his mind. “Thanks for bailing me out.”
“It’s okay.” They walked slowly down the aisle passing a booth filled with tools, fishing gear, and hubcaps.
“I’ll pay you back on Friday.”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”
“But, I’ll have the money then.”
He stepped in the shade of the next tent and turned to her. “What do you plan to do with the pie safe?”
“I thought I’d refinish it and try to sell it at the gallery. I’ve been refinishing and painting designs on some smaller pieces.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “So far I’ve finished a little wooden chest and an end table.”
“In just two weeks?”
“Well, it’s pretty quiet in the evenings around there. And Lauren lets me work on them at the gallery when it’s not too busy.”
Bill nodded thoughtfully. “How about making me your partner on the pie safe?”
“Partner? What do you mean?”
“Well, I just invested twenty dollars. How about I buy the refinishing supplies and we add that to my investment? Then when you sell it, we split the profits according to the amount we put in.”
She smiled at his idea, but the temptation to tease him was too hard to resist. “What about all the time and energy I’m going to invest in taking off that old paint?”
He grinned at her. “You really are learning how to dicker.”
She laughed, enjoying the moment. “You taught me how.”
His smile eased, and a more serious look filled his eyes. “Maybe I could c
ome over and help you with the refinishing.”
Her stomach did a funny little dance, and a warm, happy feeling flowed through her. “Sure, that would work. Have you ever done anything like that before?”
“Not really, but I suppose you could teach me.”
She sent him a teasing smile. “We’ll just add that in as part of my investment.”
* * * *
Bill spread out the old blue tarp on the porch floor. A comfortable breeze blew past, cooling his face. Though it was only about seventy-five, he’d worked up a sweat teaming up with Wes to haul the pie safe from the side room of the gallery to the back porch at Long Meadow. The chemicals he and Jenn planned to use to remove the old paint required them to work where there was good ventilation, and this shady area on the north side of the house seemed like the perfect spot.
The screen door opened, and Jenn stepped outside carrying a can of paint remover in one hand and clear plastic bag of supplies in the other. She’d tied her hair up in one of those high, bouncy ponytails that made her look like a teenager. She wore a baggy old yellow shirt he suspected belonged to Wes along with a well-worn pair of jeans with some paint splotches on one knee. But she’d never looked prettier.
He groaned inwardly and told himself to keep his mind on the project. But then she smiled up at him with sparkling green eyes, and he knew it was a lost cause.
“Ready to get to work?” she asked.
He cleared his throat. “Sounds good to me.” He pointed to the bag in her hand. “What do you have in there?”
“Everything we need.” She pulled out two large pieces of steel wool, a couple paintbrushes, gloves, and some old rags. Then she explained the steps they would take to remove the old paint.
Bill nodded as he listened, enjoying her animated expression and the way she used her hands as she talked. There was something different about her today. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but she seemed happier and more relaxed. That lifted a weight of concern from his heart that he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying.
They teased each other as they carefully laid the heavy pie safe on the tarp so they could apply the paint remover to the front.
Bill stopped to take a drink of lemonade from one of the glasses sitting on the porch rail. The cool tartness flooded his mouth and washed down his throat. He took the other glass and offered it to Jenn.
“Thanks.” She grinned at him over the rim before she lifted her chin and took a long swallow.
He caught a flash of the twisted scar on the side of her neck and quickly shifted his gaze away. Then he looked back, hoping she hadn’t noticed his reaction. But he couldn’t help it. Each time he saw her scars and thought of the pain she’d experienced, it yanked his emotions in ways he hadn’t expected.
It was odd. He’d been on dozens of search and rescue operations, and he’d treated all kinds of injuries, some very serious. But it was different when it was someone you knew, someone you cared about and wanted to protect.
She touched his arm. “Hey, time to quit day dreaming.” Her smile reached out and wrapped around his heart, pulling him to her.
He chuckled and tugged on a strand of hair in her ponytail. “I’m ready. Put me to work.”
Chapter Fourteen
Jenn glanced around the quiet gallery as cool air from the vent overhead ruffled her hair. She glanced down at the wooden tray on the counter. Yesterday she’d painted on a base coat of creamy ivory. This morning she planned to add bright-yellow sunflowers surrounded by blue ribbons. Her paints and brushes lay next to the tray, ready for her to get started, but she couldn’t drum up much enthusiasm for the project.
She sighed, and her gaze drifted to the window.
Maybe it was the heat. The paper said it would reach ninety-three this afternoon with unusually high humidity for Vermont. Hopefully, the weather wouldn’t put a damper on the town’s Fourth of July parade and picnic.
Lauren pushed open the front door and stepped in. “We’re about ready to go. Sure you won’t change your mind and come with us?”
Jenn hesitated, still battling her decision. “Thanks, but I think I’d rather stay here.” That wasn’t true, but she’d be miserable wearing long sleeves in this heat, and that was her only option.
“I hate to think of you working here by yourself all day.”
Lauren’s caring smile softened Jenn’s resolve, and for a moment she considered telling her the truth. The sound of a car pulling in the gravel driveway stopped her. She looked past Lauren, out the front door. Bill hopped down from the cab of his truck and headed toward the house.
Her heart clenched. She hadn’t expected to see him today.
Lauren glanced over her shoulder. “I better get going. We’ve got to take Toby over to the Elementary school to meet his Cub Scout troop before the parade starts.
Jenn forced a smile. “Okay. Have a good time.”
“Thanks.” Lauren sent her a concerned glance then pushed open the screen and crossed the gravel driveway toward the house.
Jenn paced to the front window and peeked out. Her spirit sank as she watched Wes greet Bill at the back door and let him in. Lauren followed Bill inside the house. A few seconds later Bill and Wes emerged, each toting a large ice-chest. Jenn had watched Lauren stock them early that morning with bags of ice, sports drinks, bottled water, and boxes of juice. She’d bought enough to keep Toby’s entire Cub Scout troop cool.
Bill and Wes loaded the ice-chests into the back of Bill’s truck and then stood by the open tailgate talking for a few more seconds.
Tilley and Lauren came out the back door, chatting as they carried picnic baskets toward Wes’s car. Toby shut the door and jumped down the back steps. He was dressed in his blue Cub Scout uniform and carried a small American flag. He dashed over and gave Bill a hug.
Tears misted Jenn’s eyes as she watched them load up the car. She turned and walked away from the window, wishing she could erase the happy scene from her memory.
She hated to miss the July fourth celebration, but she couldn’t imagine making any other choice. Everyone would guess there was something wrong with her if she wore long sleeves today. But exposing her scars and dealing with all the shocked stares and whispered comments would be too painful.
She’d rather avoid everyone and hide her pain. That’s what she’d always done. It was the only way she’d survived her parents’ death and the daily ache of her aunt and uncle’s cruel indifference.
It didn’t matter. She could handle it. She walked to the back window and stared out at the lush green meadow behind the gallery. Birds dipped and swooped over the waving grass. Her vision blurred, and her tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks. Her head throbbed, and her stomach felt as though she might lose what little breakfast she had managed to eat.
The front door of the gallery opened.
She gasped and quickly swiped her hands across her cheeks.
“Jenn?” Bill’s voice broke the silence.
She slowly turned and faced him, hoping she would not betray her jumbled emotions.
Concern filled his eyes. “Lauren said you’re not coming.”
She sniffed and focused on straightening a display of collectable tins. “That’s right.”
He walked up beside her. “Why not?”
“It’s too hot.” She stepped behind the counter, putting some distance between her and Bill. He was too persuasive, and she didn’t think she had the strength to resist him today.
“The parade doesn’t start until eleven. I’m sure we could still find a shady spot with a good view.” He leaned on the counter and sent her a teasing smile. “That is unless it takes me too long to convince you to change your mind.”
Yearning filled her heart, but she quickly squelched it. “I can’t go. I told Lauren I’d keep the gallery open.”
He lifted his eyebrows at her feeble excuse. “You know she wants you to come. We all do.”
She glanced down at her long-sleeved white shirt and black
pants. “I’d cook in this outfit.”
“Then go change.” He glanced at his watch. “We have time. I’ll wait.”
She felt her tears building again. “You don’t understand.”
“Then tell me.”
She debated her words for a few seconds. “I don’t want people staring at me.”
His familiar grin surfaced. “No one will tease you about your lily-white skin. I promise.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what is it?” A hint of impatience edged his words.
A warning flashed through her. If she kept playing guessing games and pushing him away, he’d eventually believe that’s what she wanted, but nothing could be further from the truth. She swallowed. “I have . . . some scars from the fire.”
He nodded, his expression calm and unchanged. “That’s okay. It doesn’t matter to the people who care about you.”
She released an exasperated huff. “Right.” Fighting to control her surging emotions, she turned away and looked out the back window again. The view of the meadow faded as she recalled the look of shock on Phillip’s face the night he’d seen her red, blistered face and arms.
Bill closed the space between them and stood silently behind her. Rather than making her feel awkward, his quiet presence comforted her and infused her with courage.
She fiddled with the bottom hem of her shirt. “I was engaged . . . before I came up here.”
He waited a few seconds before he spoke. “What happened?”
She slowly turned and faced him. “Phillip took one look at me after the fire and walked away.”
Anger flashed across Bill’s face. “Then he was a fool.”
“He said he loved me.”
“Then he lied.”
Confusion and pain flooded her heart. Her throat burned and her eyes stung.
Bill’s expression softened as he stepped closer and pulled her in for a hug. “I’m sorry, Jenn. That didn’t come out right.” He held her a moment more, then stepped back. “Maybe he just didn’t know what love is.”
Surrendered Hearts Page 9
