Bluegrass Courtship

by Allie Pleiter

  “Good. I’m glad we got that out of the way. We’re the real deal, Janet.” Annie dunked a cookie into her coffee. “And you can take that to the bank. We’ll try never to give you a reason to worry.”

  They were just going over the third file when a noise rose up outside the bus and the doors pushed open.

  “Annie,” came Drew Downing’s voice over the crowd, “we got our octopus!”

  Chapter Three

  “Octopus?” Janet glanced between them.

  “Drew, this is Janet Bishop.”

  “Hi, there.” Downing sounded as if he had run the whole way back from the church. “Howard Epson is going to be a handful. Serious octopus.”

  “The guy who has to have his hand in everything,” explained Annie with a wry grin.

  “Oh.” Janet couldn’t suppress a smile. She had an amusing vision of Mayor Howard Epson’s ever-present blue cardigan sweater suddenly sprouting six extra sleeves. “Yeah, that sounds like Howard.”

  Drew used one foot to tug over a stool while he reached into the bus fridge for a bottle of water. “I know he’s probably a good guy, but we’ve got to find something safe—lots of safe somethings—for Mayor Epson to do. I won’t get a thing done if he’s all over this the way he wants to be.”

  Annie sighed. “There’s an octopus on every project. And it usually is the one who sent in the application. It’s great that they feel such a sense of ownership, but…”

  “Howard is a bit of an attention and control freak,” Janet offered.

  “Being elected for three straight terms as Mayor of Middleburg does not qualify you to run a bulldozer.” Drew gulped down some water before continuing. “He can’t be the guy to knock down the gym. You need certification to do that sort of thing. Try and talk to him again, will you, Annie?”

  “And that,” said Annie, gathering up a clipboard, “is the other part of my job. Shenanigan Prevention and Octopus Wrangler. Put that on a business card.”

  “Shenanigan?” Drew looked at Janet.

  “Long story,” Janet answered dryly.

  “You two finish going over that list. I’ll go deal with His Honor.” Annie snagged her coffee mug—a green mug with the white Missionnovation logo on both sides—and headed out the door.

  “I’m Drew,” Downing said as he extended a hand. She thought it was funny that he introduced himself—everyone knew who he was. Janet noticed his watch was a combination of a snazzy face and a rugged leather band. “And you’ve met Annie. You got any trouble—any concerns at all—you bring ’em to one of us. We aim to do right around here.”

  “So I keep hearing,” Janet replied.

  “Well,” Drew said, shucking off his coat and tossing it on the couch behind him, “if you don’t mind my saying so, you looked a bit skeptical back there in the store.” He took another swig of water and pulled Annie’s file of lists over in front of him. “So you’re the Bishop in Bishop’s Hardware?”

  “That’d be me.”

  He cocked his head to one side and eyed her. He had brown hair, shot through with a smattering of very hip-looking blond streaks. He sported an expensive brand of athletic shoes, but they’d definitely seen a lot of wear. His jeans were one of those expensive brands, too, but they had rips in both knees and a streak of paint down one side. Still the kind of man better suited for some slick California café than a Kentucky diner. There was no arguing he had a face worthy of television—tawny complexion, strong jaw, killer dimples. The color of his eyes wasn’t that noteworthy—it was mostly the gigawatt intensity that made Janet look twice. “You don’t see too many female owners in the hardware business,” he offered. “Especially in small towns. How’d you get into it?”

  Janet was well aware of her uniqueness. Even though she’d been around the store for years, contractors all over the county gave her a hard time when she first took over, testing to see if she really knew her stuff. And she did. Janet knew the name of every type of screwdriver by the time she was three. She was mixing paint by the time she was ten, and could recommend the proper pipe fitting by the time she could drive. “Genetically,” she replied. “My dad owned the store.”

  “My dad was a plumber,” Drew said as he dug his hand into the box of cookies and pulled out two. Janet could see the memory overtake him, diffuse the light in his eyes. “He wouldn’t know what to make of what I do now.”

  “Was?” She just knew by the way he said it.

  “He died four years ago, just before we signed the deal for Missionnovation. Your dad like how you run the store?”

  “He’s been gone for a couple of years now. I like to think he’d be fine with how it’s going.”

  Drew raised an eyebrow. “You’re old enough to have been running a hardware store for five years? Don’t they have child labor laws in Kentucky?”

  Janet crossed her arms and tried to look every one of her twenty-eight years. “They teach you that in Hollywood charm school?”

  “Okay, so maybe we skip the charming small talk and you tell me what’s really on your mind. I like it better that way, anyway.”

  Janet decided to take him at his word. “Look, I’m glad the preschool’s getting an overhaul. We needed it, even before the oak tree went through the roof. And I know the school and church’ll get all kinds of bells and whistles that they’d never get any other way. And this,” she tapped the files between them on the table, “is a whole lot of business for me, that’s true. But all that doesn’t change the fact that Middleburg’s problem is about to become prime-time entertainment.”

  “Because you don’t trust us to get the job done right. You’re afraid we’ll manufacture drama. Exploit your hardship.” He pushed up the sleeves of his green Missionnovation sweatshirt.

  “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  “Well, Janet.” He leaned forward in his seat. “I’ll make you a deal. You won’t have to trust me. I’m giving you full access. Inspect any of the construction at any time of the day or night.” He stood up and went over to a little office built next to where all the electronics stood. “Here are the direct lines to our production staff and our accountants. Call anyone you like to confirm anything you hear from me.” He handed her a paper while he pulled open a cabinet revealing a safe. Opening it, he pulled out a fat checkbook.

  “I, however,” he sat back down again, “am going to trust you from this very moment.” He pointed to the file. “There’s a list of what we’ll need so far. That’s only the beginning, of course, but it should keep you busy while we set about finishing the job that oak tree started.” He pulled a check from the checkbook and wrote it out to Bishop Hardware, signed it, but left the amount blank. “And this here’s a blank check made out to your store. We want satisfied customers. This check is for you to make any repairs or modifications you find you need after we’re gone. If the plaster cracks, fix it. If the pipes leak, call a plumber. We’ll cover your costs for anything you need to fix that you think was our doing. I don’t want you to feel we’ve taken advantage of you or Middleburg in any way.”

  Janet stared at the check, filled—except for the “in the amount of” line—with Downing’s large, flamboyant handwriting. He’d signed his name so large it overshot the signature line on either side.

  “I was raised to be a man of my word. I believe in what I do. I’m the real deal, Janet Bishop, and I mean to prove it to you.” He extended his hand with something near fire in his eyes. “Will you let me?”

  Chapter Four

  “Can you believe it?”

  “Hi, Mom.”

  Barbara Bishop, “Bebe” to her close friends, rushed into the store. “I saw the bus out front even before Sandy Burnside called me at the library.” Janet’s mother read books for the preschool story hour every Wednesday. It didn’t take much imagination to picture Goodnight Moon coming to a screaming halt once word of Missionnovation’s arrival hit the streets. Bebe Bishop was a big fan, and part of the reason Janet ended up watching the spectacle every other Thursday wh
en they had dinner together. Before she heard Howard own up to it, Janet half-suspected her own mother of sending in a tape. “Can you believe it?” Her mother’s breathless excitement bounced the words out in short spurts. “I mean, can you really believe it, Jannybean?”

  “With that huge bus parked right in front of the store, it’s a little hard to ignore.”

  “I heard he came right in here. Did you meet him? And anyone else? Did you meet Kevin Cooper?” Her small, lean frame was practically vibrating with excitement.

  Kevin Cooper was the landscaping expert of the Missionnovation team, and a personal favorite of Janet’s mother, who was close to her pruning shears and potting soil herself. The trellis of blooming flowers that graced Janet’s back deck this summer was copied directly from a Missionnovation episode. Janet had the misfortune to mention to her mother during said episode that she had “some spare lumber just like that lying around the shop.” Before she knew it, Janet’s back deck had its own Missionnovation-inspired garden trellis.

  “No.” Janet hadn’t yet seen any of the people she saw on TV except for Downing. Despite her “Shenanigan” title, Annie must be a producer or some such thing because Janet had never seen her on the show. “But Drew Downing was in here.”

  “I got to meet him,” her mother boasted as she unzipped the dark blue canvas Bishop Hardware windbreaker she always wore. It had been Janet’s dad’s and she had to cuff up the sleeves more than a few times in order to make it fit. “He seems just like he is on the show. A nice fellow. Bit high energy, but of course I knew to expect that. He invited me to the prayer meeting at the bus tonight.” She pulled a Missionnovation Daily Devotional booklet out of one of the jacket’s interior pockets. “They don’t ever show those on TV, but I read about them. And now we get to be part of it. It’s just amazing. Even you have to think this is amazing. After all we’ve been through trying to raise enough money to fix that preschool?”

  “It’s gonna be something, that’s for sure.”

  Her mother shot her one of her looks. That “oh, stop being such a wet blanket” look she always gave Janet when she got all worked up about something church-related. Janet no longer did the bubbly religion thing. She told herself she respected the Almighty enough not to try and fake Him out after all she’d seen.

  “No prayer meeting,” Janet said before her mom even had a chance to ask. “I’ll see enough of those folks during the day.”

  “They’re ordering through the store, aren’t they? I hadn’t even thought about that. Should be a whole lot of business. God’s been kind to you. You think about that.” She tapped her green brochure on Janet’s arm. “You may want to think about giving Him another chance one of these days.” Another look.

  It was an exchange they’d had far too often. A few years back, Tony Donalds, the son of Middleburg Community Church’s pastor at the time, had pulled Janet into a serious relationship. It had been a whirlwind of newly energized faith with the promise of future adventure. And it had opened up facets of Janet’s relationship with God she’d never discovered before.

  It just hadn’t been real. Because Tony hadn’t been real.

  Janet didn’t blame Pastor Donalds—now the former pastor, of course—for not seeing his son’s true nature. Tony’d fooled them all. He’d been traveling to raise funds—and then home to raise Janet’s hopes—for a mission project that never existed. To capture it in a tired cliché, Tony took the money and ran.

  They’d been ring-shopping, hoping to announce their engagement within the month, when it all unraveled. While her mom thought of it as God saving Janet in the nick of time, Janet saw it differently. She’d seen how false “the God’s honest truth” could be, and she had every right to put permanent distance between herself and the church.

  “Did you hear?” Dinah Hopkins’s voice pulled Janet from her thoughts. Dinah owned the Taste and See Bakery just up the street, and she had become Janet’s close friend since moving in just over a year ago. It had started out over Dinah’s outstanding chocolate chip cookies and grown into a close friendship between the two businesswomen. And even though Dinah was as “bubbly churchy” as Janet’s mother, somehow their differences never came between them. Janet was glad for the diversion—until she saw the green-and-white bandana tied around Dinah’s wrist.

  “Dinah,” Bebe cooed, “you been prayin’ for God to send you the man of your dreams? I know you’ve got a thing for that wild Drew Downing—and now he’s right here in Middleburg.”

  “I took one look at that fine lookin’ man and thought ‘my stars, but he’s a blessin’ to the universe.’” Dinah sported the remains of a fierce Jersey accent, so such southernisms sounded ridiculous the way she said them. It always made Janet’s mother laugh, which is why Dinah fired up the Southern twang every time she was with Bebe. Dinah and Janet’s mom were too much alike. Janet, Dinah and Emily Montague, who owned the bath shop up the street, were Middleburg’s three single female shopkeepers. Although with Emily’s new engagement to horse farmer Gil Sorrent, it’d be down to two single shopkeepers soon.

  While Dinah often scouted potential mates, being single didn’t really bother Janet. Lots of women were happily single well into their forties, much less their thirties. Life was much kinder to an independent woman now than it had been in her mother’s day.

  “You didn’t already take Drew Downing a plate of cookies, did you?” Dinah wasn’t exactly known for her shy, retiring nature. While she’d never admit it openly, Janet liked the many crazy adventures Dinah made for the shopkeeper trio. Dinah didn’t always, however, know where to draw the line. “You’re not that shameless.” Janet lowered one eyebrow. “Are you?”

  Dinah winked. “What do you think—‘Drew may dig Dave’s, but he’ll die for Dinah’s.’”

  Janet rolled her eyes while her mother erupted in a laugh. “Dinah, you didn’t.”

  “I didn’t. But I might.”

  “Don’t. I’ve been in that bus and it has more chocolate chip cookies in it than you’ve seen in a week. They’re in no need of cookies, even yours.”

  Dinah’s eyes grew wide. “You got in the bus? What’s it like?”

  Janet leaned forward. Her mother and Dinah drew close. Janet waited for dramatic effect, as if choosing just the words powerful enough to describe the iconic Missionnovation bus. “It’s a bus. It’s big. It’s green. It rolls. It blocked my front window all afternoon.”

  Her mother frowned at her. “It’s the most exciting thing to happen to Middleburg since I don’t know when, they’re buying a truckload of lumber and supplies from you and you still can’t let yourself get into the spirit of the thing. Honestly, Janet, I wish you’d find a way to stop being such a cynic.”

  Dinah deepened her voice and flexed a bicep. “It takes a hard woman to run a hardware store in hard times. Good thing you’ve got me to put a little buzz in your beehive.” Dinah had a habit of seasoning her speech with odd little metaphors.

  “Are we done yet?” Janet walked back toward her office. “I suddenly have eight colors of ceramic tile to order.”

  “That church has needed new bathrooms since the dawn of time,” Bebe said to Dinah as they followed Janet down the aisle.

  “You know it. Wow. Drew Downing and Missionnovation, right here in Middleburg. I may have to start liking Howard Epson now. Didn’t see that coming. So, Mrs. B., you going to the prayer meeting tonight?”

  Janet turned. “I thought we were going to the movies tonight, Dinah.”

  “Yeah, well, that was before Drew Downing rolled into town. I got all the entertainment I need live and in person. Did you know he plays the guitar? Musician, craftsman and hunk. Mercy!” She winked at Bebe. “Do you think he leads the singing at these things?”

  “We’ll find out.”

  Janet watched her friend gab away about the virtues of Missionnovation as Dinah walked out of the store with Bebe. Leaving her alone. And now Janet would be going to the movies alone, too. The day was just getting better b
y the moment.

  Chapter Five

  Drew waved to the audience after he closed the final prayer of the worship service. “Good night everybody, and God bless. We’ll see you in the morning. It’ll take a truckload of hands to pull that building apart, but you’ll love it when we put it back together.”

  Drew, Kevin and the two other on-screen members of the design team—electrics and utilities expert Mike Overmayer and furnishings guru Jeremy Sutter—stood around for a few minutes, shaking hands and signing autographs. Drew introduced everyone he could to Annie and some of the other offscreen staff no one ever saw. Annie ran from the cameras, but Drew knew it was tiring to be the team member without celebrity status. He couldn’t do what he did without Annie, and he liked to see her get credit. Even if she did blush mightily as she signed her name to the back of someone’s devotional booklet. As opposed to Jeremy, who offered to sign everyone’s.

  It was almost ten, but it felt like two in the morning. He recognized the usual first-day combination of jazzed up and worn out. So, while he’d encouraged the town to go home and get a good night’s rest, Drew doubted he’d do much more than grab sleep in fits and spurts tonight.

  Kevin, no stranger to the nocturnal challenges of Night One, as it was known around the bus, walked up to Drew as the crowd thinned and handed him a travel mug of coffee. Caffeine had long since lost any effect on the pair—it had become more sustenance than stimulant. Annie always joked that coffee and chocolate chip cookies were the official dinner of Missionnovation. “So, who is it?” Kevin said under his breath as they waved good-night to the last of the fans and turned toward the bus.

  “The octopus?” Drew nodded in thanks as he took a long drink of coffee. “Howard Epson. He showed up within the first hour—I’m amazed he hasn’t asked you to let him sod the lawn himself yet.”

  “Howard, I’ve met. Definitely one of our finer octo…” He searched for the proper plural noun. “What’s the plural of octopus?”