by Kay Correll
She looked around the room at the ladies laughing and knitting, glad to be a part of it all, and so glad Dorothy had included her. Just one more step in adjusting to her new life.
Mischief slid down to the floor and let out a contented sigh. She reached down to pet him. “I know how you feel, boy.”
Chapter 3
David walked along the beach the next day, relishing the fresh air and sunshine. He should get one of those step-tracker watch thingies to track his steps each day and see how many he could work up to. He used to have boundless energy, but not so much anymore. But he was determined to build up his endurance.
He walked about mid-beach, not in the water, but on the soft sand. The grains of sand yielded under his steps. He paused and picked up a pink shell, slipping it into his pocket. At this rate, he’d go back home with a pound of shells.
A sudden bark caught his attention, and he spied the dog from yesterday—what was his name? Mischief, yes that was it. The dog came racing toward him.
“Hi there, buddy. Where’s your owner?”
He glanced at the direction that Mischief had come and saw Ruby—he remembered her name—headed toward them. He leaned down and scooped up the dog. “Come on, let’s get you back to Ruby.”
He met her halfway across the distance and Ruby put her hands on her hips, looking seriously at the pup. “Mischief, bad dog. You’re not supposed to leave the deck without me.” She smiled up at him. “Thanks for snagging him for me. I think he saw you and wanted some more attention.”
He laughed. “Well, he got it.”
“I should run back and get his leash.”
“I’ll carry him back to your house.”
“Okay, thank you.”
He followed her back to a two-story house on the edge of the beach. A wide porch, scattered with chairs, lined the beachside. As they climbed the steps, he tripped on a board. Not wanting to dump Mischief, he struggled to catch his balance and slammed into the railing. Mischief squirmed out of his arms.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I have a loose board. I keep thinking I’ll get it fixed. Are you okay?” Ruby’s eyes were filled with concern.
“I’m fine.” He straightened up and rubbed his side where he’d hit the railing. That was going to leave a bruise. It would fit in well with his scars…
“Are you sure? I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“At least sit and I’ll get you some tea or something for all your trouble.”
He smiled trying to reassure her. “I’m fine. That’s not necessary.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “First you catch my dog, then trip on my broken step.”
“You know, I could fix the step for you. I’m pretty handy with things like that.” He motioned toward the broken step.
“Oh, you don’t have to. I’ll call someone.”
“It would be my pleasure. I like to putter around fixing things.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am. How about I pick up a few things, a replacement board or two, some decking screws, and I come back and fix it?”
He could tell she was trying to decide if she should let him or not.
“Say yes.” He smiled and shrugged.
She smiled then. “Okay, thank you. I’d love for you to fix it.”
“Perfect. I’ll head back to the inn, get my car, and find the supplies.” He turned to Mischief. “Now, you stay here, boy.”
The dog looked up at him innocently and wagged his tail.
“Let me give you money for the supplies you’ll need.”
“I’ll get them and bring you the receipt, how’s that?”
“You’re being very kind.”
“I’m a kind kind of guy.” He winked at her. “Is there a hardware store in town?”
“Yes, on Magnolia. Take Main Street to almost the end and turn left on Magnolia.”
“And do you have an electric drill?”
“My husband did. He’s… gone. Do you want to poke around in his tools and see what we have?”
“That’s a good idea. It will give me a better idea of what I’ll need.”
He followed her through the house to a garage and sifted through the tools, feeling slightly like he was violating someone else’s things.
“He wouldn’t mind. He’d probably be happy someone was using them.”
He looked at her for a moment. When she’d said her husband was gone, he’d thought that maybe he’d left. He had experience with spouses just up and leaving.
But now… maybe her husband was dead-gone?
He watched while she trailed a hand along the handle of a hammer. She looked at him. “Barry loved his tools. Loved to putter around the house when he wasn’t busy at the marina. He was the fixer of all things. Houses, boats, everything.” She took her hand from the hammer and slipped it in her pocket. “Barry… he died a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. I’m adjusting.” Her face held a small smile and she sent a long, caressing look over the tools. “Anyway, please, just use what you’ll need.”
“Okay, I think I know what I’ll still need.”
She led him back through the house and out to the deck.
“I’ll see you in a little while.” He walked down the steps, carefully avoiding the loose board. He headed back in the direction of the inn, glad to feel useful, even if it was just a little job, fixing a broken step for a widow.
He glanced back and saw her still standing on the deck, watching him. She waved to him when she saw him looking. He waved back, then hurried down the beach, mentally making a list of supplies he’d need. It was good to feel useful. It had been a long time.
“So, what do you think about that, Mischief? Your new friend is going to fix that broken step.” Mischief cocked his head, listening. “An almost stranger, helping us out.” She wasn’t quite certain how she felt about that. She wasn’t very handy around the house and hated bothering Ben to fix things. She’d gotten the name of a handyman but hadn’t gotten around to calling him. And it would be nice to have the step fixed…
It had been peculiar to see someone else handling Barry’s tools. Oh, occasionally Ben used them, but he was a fixer just like his dad and had his own set of tools he liked to use. She shook her head. There was no reason those tools couldn’t be put to good use.
“Come on, Mischief. Let’s go inside. I think I’ll make that apple pie I didn’t get around to making yesterday. Maybe we should ask Mr. Quinn to have dinner with us tonight.”
They went inside and Mischief headed for the water bowl, noisily slurping the water. She pulled out the bag of apples and began to peel them. Such a simple, repetitive job, but she enjoyed it. Watching the curls of red apple skin curl off and drop into the sink. She always used Jonathan apples in her pies because that’s what her mother had always used. Some traditions weren’t meant to be broken.
She sliced the apples and added the seasoning. Then she grabbed the flour and lard to make the pie. It probably wasn’t popular to use lard anymore, but that’s also what her mother taught her, so she used it in her pie crust. Another tradition not to be forgotten.
She carefully rolled the dough, made up the pie, and popped it into the oven. Soon the kitchen was filled with the wonderful aroma of cinnamon and baking apples. She bustled around getting things ready to make the chili for dinner and peeked at the rising bread dough. It should just be ready to put in the oven when the pie came out.
She loved making dinner for people. She missed that. She rarely made a big dinner for herself, and honestly, she sometimes just stood at the kitchen sink and ate a light snack.
She turned at the sound of a knock at the door.
“I’m back.” David stood at the door with a bag from the hardware store.
“Come in.”
He set the bag down outside, stepped inside, and his eyes lit up. “What smells so wonderful?” His glance roamed the kitchen.
“Apple pie in the ov
en. My son, Ben, and his girlfriend, Charlotte, are coming for dinner. I was wondering if you’d like to join us? It’s the least I can do for all the help.” She wanted him to say yes, right? It was the right thing to do to ask him to dinner. Just to say thanks. “Please say yes.”
“Yes.” He grinned. “I’m not a man to turn down a home-cooked meal.”
“Great.”
“I’m going to get started on the step repair now.”
“I do appreciate your help with it.”
“Mischief, you want to come help me?” David looked at the dog. Mischief wagged his tail and followed him out the door.
Traitor dog. She smiled.
She continued making dinner while peeking out the door off and on and watching David work. She asked a few times if she could help him, but he said he had it all covered. It felt strange to have a man working on chores around the house again. Ben came and did some chores for her, but this was different. This was a stranger, not family, not someone she’d hired. Unless she counted having him to dinner as payment.
She peeked out the window. Mischief sat on the top step watching David’s every move. She could hear David chatting to Mischief as he worked. He’d already discovered the dog was a great listener.
“Hey, buddy, look at this. The repairs are coming along nicely.” David stopped for a moment and petted Mischief. The dog wagged his tail in appreciation.
He turned back to his chore. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fixed something like this. He loved doing small woodworking projects. Heck, he liked doing large projects, too. He even used to make simple pieces of furniture. A server, a coffee table and matching end tables. He’d been so proud of them. He probably still would be, but they were gone now…
He pushed the thought away and concentrated on making sure the step was level. Any job worth doing was worth doing well.
The aroma drifting out from the kitchen wrapped around him as he worked, and his stomach growled in anticipation. He was glad she’d asked him to dinner. A home-cooked meal sounded so good now that he was finally getting his appetite back.
He looked up as a young couple approached, hand-in-hand. The man frowned at him in surprise as they got closer. “Um, hello?”
He stood, brushed off his hand and extended it to the young man. “Hi, I’m David.”
The man took his hand in a firm handshake, still frowning. “Ben.”
“Oh, you’re Ruby’s son, and this must be Charlotte.”
The young woman smiled at him. “I am. Nice to meet you.”
Ben still frowned. “I was going to fix that step for her.”
“Well, I about have it finished.”
“She didn’t need to pay someone to fix it.”
“Oh, she isn’t paying me. I just volunteered.”
Ben’s eyebrows raised. “Oh…”
Ruby came outside then, holding a dishtowel in her hands, drying them. “Ben, Charlotte, have you met David?”
“We did.” Charlotte walked up the steps, avoiding the one he was fixing, and hugged her.
Ruby turned to Ben. “David tripped on that loose board when he found Mischief—”
“That dog got loose again?” Ben eyed the dog. “But I would have fixed the step for you.”
“David offered and I said yes. I’ve invited him to have dinner with us tonight.”
David didn’t miss the surprised expression plastered on Ben’s face. “I’m just going to finish up here. I’m almost done.”
“Ben, why don’t you help him finish?” Ruby suggested.
Ben nodded.
“And I’ll come in and help you finish getting dinner ready.” Charlotte and Ruby went inside.
Ben stood there looking at him in an unashamed appraisal. Appraisal of him and appraisal of the job he’d done on the step. He finally said, “What’s left to do?”
“I have the board all fit and level. I pre-drilled the holes for the screw. Just need to finish screwing them in.”
“Did you get decking screws?”
“Sure did.”
Ben glanced over at the box of screws, picked up a few, and grabbed the drill. He quickly screwed in one side of the board, then handed the drill back to David.
He screwed in the other side and stood up. “I’ll just collect the tools and put them back in the garage. I’ll leave the box of screws in case Ruby needs them again.”
“I’ll put Dad’s tools away.”
He didn’t miss the defensive tone in Ben’s voice.
“As you wish.”
He watched as Ben picked up the tools and scraps of left-over wood and headed to the garage, still clearly not pleased that some stranger had invaded his territory. Well, that was too bad, because he wasn’t going to turn down Ruby’s offer of a home-cooked meal to appease Ben. Not to mention, the feeling of being useful felt awfully good.
Besides, he was a nice guy. People usually liked him. Maybe he could win over Ben at dinner.
Maybe.
Chapter 4
Annoyance flooded through Ruby and she threw her son a look, which he deliberately ignored. He was being barely civil to David after all of the help the man had given her. She finally caught her son’s attention and gave him her best mom look with a slight frown and nod toward David.
Ben lifted one shoulder in a shrug in answer.
“So, David, what brings you to Belle Island?” Charlotte asked.
Charlotte, at least, was being civil to David. She was such a nice girl. Her son was lucky to have found her.
David answered Charlotte’s question. “A bit of… ah… a vacation. Escaping the snow and gray days in the Midwest.”
“Smart choice. Winter down here is lovely.” Charlotte reached for the homemade bread and grinned sheepishly. “I really shouldn’t have a second piece of bread, but it’s so wonderful.”
“Save room for pie. I made an apple pie, Ben’s favorite.” Maybe that would put him in a better mood.
“So where in the Midwest?” Ben questioned David more closely.
“Kansas City.”
“What do you do there?”
Ruby glared at her son, willing him to back off.
“I’m retired now.”
“I see.” Ben looked skeptical, like he thought David was too young to be retired.
She broke into the grilling of their guest. “So, Ben runs the family marina. We have the main one here on the island, and a chain of them up and down the coast.”
“Sounds like a lot of responsibility.” David reached for more bread, too. She was glad to see everyone enjoying the meal.
“It is.” Ben raised one eyebrow. “I work a lot.”
She didn’t miss the slight accusing tone in his voice as if he wasn’t thrilled that David didn’t work. Oh, really. This meal conversation was driving her crazy. Time to change the subject. “And Charlotte here is an artist. A really talented one.”
Charlotte smiled. “Thanks, Ruby.”
“She had her own showing at a gallery here on the island. I love her work,” Ruby continued on, trying to get the conversation to something other than David.
“She is talented.” Ben smiled at Charlotte, his first smile of the night.
Okay, she was making some progress.
Ben turned back to David. “So, what did you do before you retired?”
So much for turning the conversation. “Benjamin, that’s enough questions for David. He’s here to have a nice home-cooked meal, not to be grilled about his life.” She stood, clearing her plate from the table. “Now, who wants pie?”
She served up pie for everyone and sat back down.
An awkward silence settled over the table.
Charlotte took pity and turned to David. “So, what do you think of our island?”
Oh, a safe question, not an inquiry into David’s private life. She smiled at Charlotte in appreciation.
“It’s lovely what I’ve seen of it. I only just got here yesterday.”
“And today I to
ok up his time with my step repair. Not the best way to spend your vacation.”
“I’ll probably poke around town tomorrow.” He turned to look at her, his blue eyes questioning. “I don’t suppose you’d like to show me around town tomorrow?”
“I’m sure Mom is busy,” Ben chimed in.
“No, I’m not busy. I’d love to show you around. I could meet you at The Sweet Shoppe for breakfast. How does that sound? Then we’ll walk around a bit?”
“That sounds great. I know you said the baked goods there were wonderful. If I’m even hungry in the morning. I swear I ate like a starving person tonight. It was so good.”
“Thank you. I look forward to showing you around our island.”
Ben scowled and she frowned right back at him. Her son was being impossible and ridiculously overprotective. David had helped her, and she was just returning the favor.
Ben held Charlotte’s hand as he walked her back to her bungalow. She didn’t know what was up with him tonight. He was usually a kind, humorous guy. But certainly not tonight. Ben was lost in thought and they walked along the water’s edge in silence.
“So… what was with you tonight?” She finally asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Ben Hallet, don’t play innocent. You were practically rude to David. And it was obvious to everyone, including David, that you weren’t pleased he was there.”
“I wasn’t rude. I was just trying to find out what kind of guy he was. And what was Mom doing inviting a man she just met to dinner?”
“A man who offered to fix her step for her? I think it was just repaying a kindness with a kindness.”
“She needs to be careful. He’s practically a stranger. No, he is a stranger. She has no business inviting a perfect stranger to her home.”
Charlotte shook her head. “It’s okay if your mom wants to date, you know. She’s young. She’s probably lonely.”
