The Texas SEAL's Surprise--A Clean Romance

by Cari Lynn Webb

  “It’s the perfect chair for a new mom.” A navy glider rocker with matching footrest filled the screen, looking comfortable and functional. And exactly like the kind Abby would want. Except she didn’t have her own home like Corine. She had a futon at her cousin’s place. The reminder, however sobering, refocused her. She’d buy her own glider rocker one day for the home she’d have. But there were things she had to accomplish first. “Where should you and I begin?”

  “I know the particulars. You’re Tess’s cousin. Harlan and Opal’s granddaughter. They were good people. You came from Santa Cruz. Sorry about your car.” Sympathy shone on Corine’s face. She took the tablet from Abby and slipped it back under the blankets. “Our potholes do need to be addressed. And the town council tasked you with planning something special for Labor Day weekend. Why no one mentioned the Roots and Shoots Garden Club meeting to you is beyond me.”

  Abby waited a beat, making sure Corine was drawing a breath and not continuing. “Frieda invited Tess and me to the garden club meeting.”

  “But it’s not just a meeting, and it’s rarely about gardening. It’s an all-day affair from early morning until evening. Everyone attends.” Corine pulled a pair of knitting needles and a ball of pale yellow yarn from a drawer in the bedside table.

  “Which is why no one came to my meeting last Saturday.” Abby exhaled.

  “It’s a small town. We can turn the tiniest thing into a massive social gathering.” Corine plucked at the yarn. “Which means we shouldn’t have a problem for Labor Day weekend.”

  Except worry pinched Corine’s eyebrows together. Abby asked, “Is there a problem?”

  “The land developers add a definite wrinkle.” Corine shifted her gaze to Abby. “Along with the town council’s expectations.”

  Abby crossed her legs and pushed her shoulders back against her own unease. “I was told they want a big, successful event that will entice the land developers.”

  “But what’s big and successful, really?” Corine tapped a knitting needle against her palm as her thoughts tapped out one after the other. In rapid succession. “A large crowd of locals. All we need is a Friday night high-school football game for that. Turning a large profit. That’s trickier. We like to gather socially, but we’re thrifty people. Don’t be fooled by Lynette Kinney’s catio and koi pond. Lynette harangued that poor contractor until he reduced the cost. Is it one or the other? Because I’ve seen the winner of a four-man poker game leave with a larger profit than the grocery store generates in one day. Call it a success, but not a big event.”

  Again, Abby waited and watched the woman. Corine’s knitting-needle drumming slowed, and her mouth dipped into a frown. Abby reached for her courage. “This might be outside the box...”

  “I like outside-the-box thinking. It’s underappreciated. Undervalued.” Corine pointed the knitting needle at Abby. “How far outside of the box are you thinking of going? Not long ago, the town council hired an internet guy, Marshall Solis, to fix the internet infrastructure and check on the cell towers in the county. But the position quickly spiraled into Marshall becoming the entire town’s help desk.”

  Abby held onto her grin, nodded and waited for Corine to get to the point as if she had all afternoon to visit with the pregnant woman. How quickly she’d adapted to Corine’s running commentary and the town’s slower pace.

  “Folks called Marshall for things like broken alarm clocks and oven-temperature recalibrations. They wanted him to reset their passwords on their personal computers and cell phones. Don’t get me started on the ones who’d installed their own home-alarm systems. Marshall’s phone never stopped ringing.” Corine sighed and pressed her hand against her stomach. “Marshall lasted one week. He called to tell me he quit because his job responsibilities had fallen too far outside the box, even for him. And that the town council wouldn’t know internet infrastructure if they tripped over a wire.”

  Abby struggled to keep her chuckle in check.

  “Last I heard, Mrs. Buckley was still blaming Marshall for her burned lasagna.” Corine’s lips twitched. “But she’s been burning her lasagna for years now. It’s not the oven.”

  Abby covered her mouth and caught her laughter against her palm.

  Corine’s own laugh spilled out and was charming and infectiously sweet, like the woman herself. Corine focused now on Abby. “So I ask again. How far outside the box are you willing to go?”

  Abby leaped over the box. “I recently learned about the McKenzie sisters, the Herring Gang and the missing loot. I can’t seem to get it out of my mind.”

  Corine’s head bobbed up and down. “It has everything good legends are made of. Villains, heroes, romance and gold. What’s not to like, really?”

  Encouraged, Abby added, “I keep thinking about the missing treasure and how finding it would set Three Springs apart from other towns and make it a real destination spot.”

  “Have you been to the town hall?” Corine asked. “We have a small museum. And by small, I mean closet-size tiny. The treasure wouldn’t fit. Although, there’s the Stagecoach Inn. Hasn’t been opened for years. Out-of-towners usually stay with their family so I’m not sure that makes them visitors. Just returning locals.”

  “We’d have to find the treasure first,” Abby said, pulling Corine back to her idea. “That would mean an organized treasure hunt.”

  “Treasure hunt.” Corine sat up. Her bun bobbled on her head, then swayed to a stop. “That’s brilliant.”

  Corine’s enthusiasm took Abby aback. She’d expected more resistance. Asking the town to go on a treasure hunt in Silent Rise Canyon was, well, a big ask. Way outside the box. The town kept surprising her.

  “There can be a scavenger hunt before the movie on Friday night,” Corine rushed on.

  Abby opened and closed her mouth.

  “Friday night is our first annual family movie night in the town square. It was scheduled before the council decided they wanted a Labor Day weekend event too. That’s two different weekends with two different events, but it’ll work out.” Corine tossed her knitting needles and pile of yarn onto the other side of the bed, then considered Abby. “No one told you about this weekend, did they?”

  Abby shook her head.

  “It’s good we’re meeting, then. Everything is already rented. The delivery and setup are confirmed for Friday.” Corine smiled and lifted her shoulders in an easy shrug. “You just need to oversee the entire evening and now plan a scavenger hunt for the kids.”

  “You mean treasure hunt.” Abby wanted to plan a whole-town treasure hunt. Get Three Springs some much-deserved attention. Secure her job and declare herself a success.

  “Center the scavenger hunt around the businesses in downtown. Have the kids find scavenger hunt items inside the businesses with their parents as escorts,” Corine continued. The woman had gone from knitting to hardcore strategizing in less than five minutes. It was remarkable, really. “It’s a stretch, but a way to get the locals to revisit the stores and shops again. It would be great if they could support our local business owners more. We can add the Silver Penny when it’s reopened.”

  Abby rubbed her forehead. Following Corine was exhausting. Good thing the woman was confined to her bed. Abby could only imagine what she’d be like on her feet. Probably a whirlwind. “What movie are we showing?”

  “You’ll have to choose.” Corine pointed at the dresser on the far side of the room. “I started a binder for movie night before I was put on bedrest.”

  “What about the Labor Day event?” What about the treasure hunt in the canyon? Abby stood and retrieved the binder.

  “If the first-ever movie night is a success, we can repeat it all on a larger scale during the holiday weekend.” Corine pursed her lips. “Maybe that means food trucks. Two movie showings. More outdoor games. Crafts. But we keep the focus on family.”

  Abby didn’t disagree.
She had a child of her own coming. Having town-sponsored kid-friendly things happening only added to its appeal for those who were already here. But what about making Three Springs attractive to outsiders, like their land developer? Abby opened the binder and hid her wince. It contained two pages covered in handwritten scribbles and flowery doodles. More doodles than notes. A personal shopping list that reminded Abby she needed to make her own grocery list and also get a yellow highlighter.

  “You’re not convinced.”

  Was it really big enough to meet everyone’s expectations? “We need to bring in more than locals.”

  “Right. We have to build up the businesses in downtown to show we’re viable, open and thriving to newcomers, especially those willing to invest. Corine beamed at Abby. “That means promoting all this to the neighboring towns. We’ll need signs and fliers and have the details advertised in the papers and online.”

  “Do you think the businesses are going to agree to be part of a scavenger hunt and remain open later on Friday?” Abby tried to recall the shops on Fortune Street. Yet all she could think of was the Feisty Owl.

  “That’ll be down to your powers of persuasion. This has been really productive.” Corine linked her hands behind her head and leaned back as if her workday was finished. “I’m glad you’re here, Abby. You just need to make this a success so we can work together on a permanent basis.”

  Permanent. Abby hadn’t ever had that as a framework. Certainly not in her childhood. The most constant part of her life were her grandparents, who’d always been present through their letters. Letters that had arrived every month since Abby had been in grade school. Now her grandparents were gone, and nothing had been consistent in Abby’s life since. “I’ll bring you feedback about whether the stores noticed an uptick in sales and foot traffic, along with attendance numbers.”

  “You won’t need to. I’ll hear that evening. Not even a decades-long drought could kill the gossip grapevine in Three Springs. It’s truly indestructible.” Corine laughed again. “Welcome to town!”

  Abby was appreciating it more and more each day. “Thanks for giving me a chance.”

  “It’s what Three Springs was founded on.” Corine smiled. “Neighbors helping neighbors. Been that way for centuries, and it’s just what we do.”

  A few hours later, outside the Five Star Grocery Depot, Abby had her list written and her movie-night poll almost complete. She’d been stopping shoppers heading into the store, introducing herself and asking them which one of three movies they’d come to see for Friday’s family movie night in the town square. She’d polled thirty-two people, two of whom were Five Star baggers.

  She headed into the store for her own groceries and walked out beside Mr. Bybee, whom she’d met in the spice aisle.

  “Thank you, Mr. Bybee.” Abby wrote another check on her clipboard and grinned at the gentleman. “Don’t forget to add that fresh tarragon and strawberries to your chicken salad tonight. It’ll bring out the flavor in the dish. At least, that’s what my Grandma Opal always told me.”

  “Got fresh tarragon right here.” Mr. Bybee patted his reusable shopping bag. “It’s the first thing I’m going to add. I’ll let you know Friday night what I thought.”

  Abby grinned and walked to Tess’s car. Groceries loaded, she stopped at the corner gas station, polled the two customers pumping gas, thanked them for their time and drove to the general store.

  She searched through more boxes, uncovering plenty of antiques but no coin, before heading up to the apartment. She had one of Tess’s casserole dishes, filled with homemade Swedish meatballs hot from the oven, and packed it into a cloth shopping bag. She was honoring her side of the bet she’d made with Wes.

  When she entered the Feisty Owl to find Wes, she greeted several familiar couples and worked her way over to the bar. Wes added a cherry to a soda glass, set it on a waiting serving tray and skipped over a greeting. “You aren’t polling my customers, Abby.”

  Abby set the cloth bag with the casserole dish on the bar. “What are you, Wes? The town spy? How is it possible that you know everything that’s going on without leaving the bar?”

  “I have a good network.” He leaned forward and lifted the opening of the bag. “What’s this?”

  “None of your business.” She slapped the top of his hand. “Why can’t I poll a few of your customers?”

  “Because we have a no-soliciting policy,” Wes said.

  “I’m not soliciting,” Abby said. “I’m polling. There’s a difference.”

  “You’re still interrupting their meal,” Wes said. “And the Feisty Owl strives to give its customers a peaceful, undisturbed dining experience.”

  “You have a massive mechanical bull in the corner. Live music in the other corner.” Abby ramped up the sarcasm. “And peanut shells scattered all over the floor, crunching under everyone’s boots. And I’m the disruption?”

  “That’s all part of the ambience.” Wes stretched his arms wide and braced himself against the bar. “Part of the draw.”

  He was part of the draw for her. Abby waved her hand, brushing aside her attraction and his words. “I already have overwhelming support for one movie in particular. You don’t have enough customers in here to change the vote anyway.”

  Boone came by and greeted Abby with a welcoming hug. He leaned toward the fabric bag and drew a deep breath. He rubbed his stomach. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Abby grinned. “If you’re thinking Grandma Opal’s signature Swedish meatballs, then, yes, it is.”

  Wes crossed his arms over his chest and watched her. “You don’t know anything about how bets work, do you?”

  “Who cares about bets.” Boone patted his hand against the bar top. “She’s got meatballs and mashed potatoes. Opal never served them on anything else.”

  “Potaytoes, potahtoes, it still doesn’t mean that she’s paid up.” Wes seemed to be smothering a smile, but she wasn’t quite sure.

  Ilene’s smile was wide and warm as she came up beside Abby with a drink order.

  “If it’s Opal’s recipe, you are in for a real treat,” Boone added. “Never could get that recipe from her.”

  “No one could get any written recipes from her.” Except Abby, who treated her grandmother’s handwritten cookbook like the priceless first edition it truly was. “Grandma Opal never measured out any ingredients when she cooked. She told me it was because she thought her measuring spoons were too pretty to use.”

  Boone’s voice sounded far away as if he’d stepped inside a memory. “Opal had quite the collection. Harlan would keep building display racks for her. Never once complained.”

  “Do you think those measuring spoons are somewhere in the store?” Abby couldn’t keep the wishful edge out of her words. She had taken extra care to find special measuring spoon sets in the countries she’d lived. Every time she sent one to her grandmother, it was like sending a part of her heart. She liked knowing she was connected to the collection. “I don’t remember more than one display case in her house in Wisconsin.”

  “Can’t see why not.” Boone accepted a full soda glass from Wes and moved to his usual stool. “We locked that place up the day they left, and everything still seems to be where we left it. Always assumed they’d be back to sort it proper like and take what they meant to keep.”

  “Did they ever mention moving back?” Ilene rinsed off some cutlery in the sink.

  “They went to help my aunt Katherine with Tess and Paige after my uncle Neal passed. Then they stayed to care for my aunt during her long struggle with breast cancer.” A ten-year battle her aunt had ultimately lost when Abby was in college. It still didn’t seem fair. “Then there was a knee replacement for Grandpa. Hip replacement for Grandma. Moving back here, or anywhere, became complicated.”

  “Seems the timing was never right.” Boone sipped his soda. “Meanwhile, Sam and I wa
tched over the building.”

  “Now Tess and I are here to pick up where our grandparents left off.” Abby set her purse on the stool and rummaged inside the large bag. She pulled out a soft-backed book. “But first, that means new electrical so we can see what we’re doing.”

  “You brought dinner, and you intend to help with the electrical at the store.” Wes rubbed the back of his neck. “Seriously. Do I need to explain how bets work? You can’t win and lose at the same time.”

  Abby set her book on the bar top and held Wes’s gaze. “I thought we could have dinner and design your electrical plan for the store.”

  He filled a mug and added a ginger and lemon tea bag to the steaming water. “Uh, what are we going to do?”

  Abby flashed the cover of her how-to electrical book for beginners at Wes. “Chapter one says we need an electrical-wiring diagram.”

  “I thought you were getting a book on pregnancy in the bookstore yesterday.” Wes ignored the book.

  “I got that too.” Abby opened her DIY manual to chapter one. “And this one. Now I really can help you. How great is that?”

  Wes looked less than thrilled. He sounded even less delighted. “You are not helping me run new wiring in the general store.”

  “Why not? I’ve read the book already.” She’d skimmed it more than read it. Not even that, truthfully. She’d fallen asleep during chapter one. Her eyes had crossed on the page with all the wiring-diagram symbols and completely lost focus on the section about diodes and capacitors. But she would read it. Maybe.

  “Yes. I want to know why Abby can’t help too.” Ilene edged closer.

  “Is it because I’m not a guy?” Abby mirrored Wes’s stubborn stance, tilting her chin upwards and censuring with her tone.

  “It better not be,” Ilene muttered. “His momma taught him better than that.”

  “Think before you speak, son,” Boone hollered, then lifted his eyebrows at Abby. “I taught him that.”