Heavenly Stranger

by Tina Wainscott

  She tapped on the door, and a few minutes later Barnie answered. He was in a wheelchair with his cast-covered leg sticking out in front of him. He’d brought his plate to the door.

  “Hey, Maddie. What’s up?”

  Barnie might have been a distinguished-looking man if he’d put any thought to it. His thick hair, graying at the temples, was always in need of a brush. He cut his hair once a year, an event that had become like the northern tradition of seeing if the groundhog saw his shadow. He was tall, though his shoulders had stooped over the years. He liked old, faded clothing because, as he said, they were worn in and comfortable.

  “If you’re eating, I can—”

  He held up a finger, closed the door, and a minute later, reopened it. The pieces of steak and pile of mashed potatoes were gone. “Come in,” he mumbled around his food.

  Maddie walked into the office-turned-apartment. It was as cluttered as his sailboat had been. Yellowed, wrinkled charts adorned the walls and were etched with scribblings of journeys past. A portable TV blared from the old desk Barnie obviously used as a dining table.

  “How are you doing?” she asked

  “Nuts are crushed, how do you think?”

  Barnie had taken a misstep on the deck of his boat. One leg went down the companionway, and one stayed up on deck, which left those vulnerable male parts to take the brunt of the fall.

  How did one diplomatically ask about crushed nuts? “Are…they all right?” She wondered if they’d put those in a cast, too.

  “Hurts to walk, hurts to sit, hurts to piss–”

  She waved her hands. “Okay, okay, I get it. So, hey, I wanted to ask about the guy you hired to finish the boat.”

  “Chase?”

  “Yeah. Where’d he come from?”

  “The other coast.”

  “Of Florida?”

  “Yep.”

  “Is that where he was living?”

  “Didn’t say.” Barnie wasn’t exactly a conversationalist unless he was talking about something that interested him.

  She perched on the edge of the desk. “How did he hear about your job?”

  “Said a guy told him.”

  “What guy on the other coast would tell him about your job?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Aren’t you curious? Did you advertise over there?”

  Without giving it any thought, he answered, “Nope. And nope. I needed help, and he was here.”

  “Don’t you think it’s weird that he found out about the job in such a vague way?”

  “Didn’t care when he said he knew about the drywall screws.”

  “Huh?”

  “First he knew about using a heat lamp to make the foam pliable. Then he knew about using drywall screws which don’t need a pilot hole and don’t split the wood.”

  “Oh, right.” Maddie had no idea what he was talking about. Besides, asking Barnie if he thought something was weird was rather ineffective. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Just as she was ducking out the door, Barnie said, “Maddie? Good to see you again.”

  She returned his smile. “You, too, Barnie.”

  Whoever managed the guardian angels wanted to drive Maddie crazy, and that was a fact. For one thing, her angel wouldn’t ignore her or be busy working on a sailboat. And he wouldn’t be talking to Darcy, who was leaning against one of the sawhorses in the warehouse, wearing her usual too-tight white pants and low-cut tropical blouse looking too pretty in the muted morning light.

  Darcy was an early bloomer, getting perky breasts when she was thirteen that, by the time she was fourteen, earned her the nickname, “Darcy the Bod.” Maddie had impatiently waited for her own breasts to grow in, which they finally did when she was seventeen. Then development stalled after filling out an “A” cup. Darcy’s curves always reminded Maddie how boyish her figure was. Her only retribution was while Darcy had been interested in Wayne, for whatever reason, he’d been more interested in Maddie.

  Maddie crossed her arms over her chest before approaching the boat. The good thing about Darcy’s appearance, if there was a good thing, was that Chase wasn’t paying all that much attention to her. He was balanced on scaffolding that looked like it was about to collapse, continuing to work while Darcy talked away.

  The upside-down hull was positioned near the big opening to maximize the breeze blowing off the Gulf. Maddie stepped over the orange extension cords snaking over the floor and skirted a wooden ladder. Between the sawdust all over the floor and the discarded pieces of wood, it looked like a party of beavers had just left. When she accidentally kicked a stray piece of wood, the sound drew their attention.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t our Baby,” Darcy said, not even bothering to smile. “I haven’t seen you in forever and an age. You met Baby yet?”

  Chase’s eyebrow quirked as he took her in. “Baby?”

  “She’s the baby of Sugar Bay, everyone’s darling. Ain’t that right, Baby?”

  “I met Chase yesterday—”

  “And here you are again,” she finished. “So, this is what it takes to get you out of that house of yours.” She looked at Chase. “Her husband died in a boating accident a year ago.” Maddie cringed at the D-word. “The man positively adored her, so I can understand her being torn up and hiding away at her folks’ house. Guess I would too if I’d lost a man who treated me so good. Ain’t that many around here, that’s for sure. Though I wouldn’t have put up with the way he licked you like he was a dog.”

  “It was just something he did, teasing like.” Maddie would never admit she’d hated it, too.

  Darcy glanced at her watch, then pushed away from the sawhorses. “Better get back to the shop or Maribelle will be hollering. Some of us gotta make a living. See you later.”

  Maddie watched Darcy sashay out of the warehouse, then turned and readied herself to catch Chase doing the same. Which is why she was surprised to find him looking at her with his head tilted.

  “Why do you let her talk to you like that?” He hopped down from the scaffolding and grabbed a Dr. Pepper out of a cooler, then offered her one.

  She accepted, grateful for the gesture and the chill of the can against her skin. “Like what?”

  “She talks down to you, condescending. And all that ‘baby’ stuff.” He rubbed the icy can over his forehead and cheeks, then down his neck before popping the top. Drops of water slid down his temple and jawline as he drank. She watched the muscles in his neck move with every gulp. He wiped his arm over his mouth and looked at her, and she realized he’d asked her a question.

  “That’s just the way she is, I guess. And Baby…that’s what people call me, always have. I had asthma when I was a kid and everyone kinda took care of me. That’s how we are in Sugar Bay. Isn’t it like that where you’re from?”

  He nodded to the skeleton of the hull. “Well, I gotta get back to work.”

  “Are you sure that’s why you’re here? To build that boat?”

  He picked up a hammer. “Why else would I be here?”

  He didn’t know. Or he was great at bluffing. She wished she could come out and ask him, but if he wasn’t saying, maybe she couldn’t either. There might be rules about this stuff, and she sure didn’t want to break one and send him off.

  He was poised with the hammer but just stayed there motionless for a moment. Then he asked, “Your husband died in a boating accident? What happened?”

  She swallowed hard. No one made her talk about it. But maybe this was part of the process, her telling him. So she did, without any of the details, and without the angel promise part.

  He absorbed her story for a few moments after she’d pushed out the last painful word, gave her a nod, then went back to work.

  “That’s it? Aren’t you going to say something?” she asked at last.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, hammering a nail into one of the wood strips.

  “That’s all?”

  He stopped and looked at her. “What do you want
me to say? Seems like you’ve been getting plenty of pity; you hardly need mine, too.”

  He was exasperating. “Have you ever lost someone you loved?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I mean, no.”

  His vagueness further convinced her that he was sent from Heaven. That and his indifference to Darcy. No guy in Sugar Bay was indifferent to Darcy the Bod, not even Wayne. She’d caught him a few times admiring her behind, which Darcy flashed with frequency. Only an angel would be immune to that.

  She watched him hammer several strips of wood to the hull. He had great legs, lean and muscular. Then she realized she was admiring his physique and stopped. She wasn’t even the kind of woman who admired men’s bodies. Except for Wayne’s, of course. He’d been built like a runner too but was much more compact. Short, Colleen called him, when she was being spiteful.

  Maddie cleared her throat, but Chase kept his attention on the wood strips. Wayne had never ignored her. He would have gotten her a chair so she could watch him work. The pain was still as fresh as it had been a year ago. Three weeks ago, on the anniversary of Wayne’s leaving, Maddie had gone to his grave. Instead of flowers, she’d brought toy cars and boats.

  When she sniffled, Chase looked up at her. “You still miss him?”

  She rubbed the back of her hand across her nose. “Yeah. When you love someone, you never stop loving them. Especially when they go away suddenly.”

  His eyebrows furrowed, as though he were putting together a puzzle. “What if your husband had been lost? Like at sea. What if you didn’t know whether he was alive or not, but everyone thought he was dead?”

  She found herself walking closer in response to the depth of his voice. “I’d never give up looking for him. Why?”

  Something shifted inside her as he studied her. Then he broke the gaze. “No reason. Just curious.”

  “I’d never give up,” she repeated, thinking now of the angel she’d been waiting for. She walked close enough to reach out and touch the sleeve of his black shirt if she’d been brave enough.

  He wasn’t looking at her, but he wasn’t working either. He was taking in every word she said, which was much better than being ignored.

  “How did you hear about Barnie’s boat?” she asked.

  “Guy saw me reading the Help Wanted section and told me about it.”

  Maddie’s heart did a little hip-hop. “What did he look like?”

  Chase shrugged, though he seemed caught up in the memory. “Kind of short with dark, curly hair.”

  She sucked in a quick breath. Wayne!

  “You all right?”

  She nodded, but her face flamed hot. “Did he say what his name was?”

  “No. Look, I gotta get back to work.”

  “Can I help?”

  His gaze scanned her lace crop top, pink shorts and flip flops. “I doubt it.”

  He sank into his work, and she became invisible. Well, of course he had to work, if that was what he thought his job was. Still, when she should have left, she stayed and watched him. He was precise in his movements, but every now and then she caught his gaze slide toward her.

  He nailed another strip of wood to the frame and hopped down to the floor. She watched him walk over to something that looked like a sawhorse with a rolling pin on top. He positioned more strips of wood on top of that and started up the bench saw. As he moved the pieces of wood toward the grinding blade, she grimaced, imagining his fingers going into the blades. She did that a lot since Wayne’s death, involuntary seeing things go terribly awry. Whenever she saw someone crossing the road, she imagined a car coming around the corner and hitting them. Whenever anyone left her house, she wondered if they’d come back.

  She felt her whole body cringe every time the blade cut through the wood.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked when he cut the motor. “You looked like you were pitying the wood as it was being cut.”

  “Don’t be silly. I was imagining you cutting your fingers off.” This time he grimaced, and she added, “I mean, I was worrying about it.”

  He wiggled his fingers. “All here.” Then he went back to work nailing more of those strips to the mold.

  “Well, guess I’ll go now,” she said at last. Not that it mattered, since she might as well have already left.

  He paused long enough to say, “See you,” in that velvety voice.

  Just before she walked through the large opening, she glanced back and caught him watching her. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she felt a speck of warmth start to melt her heart.

  Colleen walked toward the warehouse in the mid-afternoon heat and told herself she was doing this for Maddie’s own good. Mom had told her Maddie was more convinced than ever that this stranger was her angel. The farce had to stop here. It wasn’t healthy to believe in angels healing broken hearts, and it wasn’t safe considering Baby had picked some stranger who may well be a homicidal maniac. So, she was going to do something big-sisterly. She searched her motives and found nothing self-serving.

  Sometimes Mom mentioned how sad it was that Colleen and Maddie weren’t close. They had their share of sibling disagreements, but they didn’t have their share of confidences, laughter, and guidance. Colleen had never shown Maddie how to do her hair or makeup (the lack of which had always been evident), and she’d never given advice on dating. Course, Maddie hadn’t dated much, and when Wayne had shown interest, she’d glommed onto him and that was that. The truth was, Colleen couldn’t much see through her resentment of Maddie’s babying to offer her much of anything.

  Her throat started tightening as she walked toward the big entrance that faced the bay. She felt a layer of perspiration spring out of her skin. She hoped Barnie wouldn’t be around. Not only would that make it harder to say what she had to say, but she didn’t like the man, even if he was family.

  When she spotted the stranger, her throat went even tighter. He was crouched on scaffolding nailing strips of wood to the hull of a boat. And he was gorgeous. Not that she was interested since she had a husband, but it was hard not to notice when this guy had his shirt off and was glistening with sweat. Specks of sawdust stuck to his skin and dusted the hair of his muscular legs. It had definitely been too long since Bobby had touched her.

  “Hi,” she said, walking up to the edge of the scaffolding and trying not to notice his ratty tennis shoes.

  He gave her a brief glance, his mouth tensing. “Look, I really don’t have time to sit and chat.”

  She told herself it didn’t matter that he hadn’t even noticed her as a woman, especially since no one had noticed her as a woman in a long time. “I’ve come to talk to you about my sister, Baby. Maddie.” It did bother her that her sister’s name got his attention.

  He walked along the six-inch board that passed for scaffolding. “What about her?”

  “Her husband died last year.”

  “In a boating accident.”

  “She told you? Wow, she never talks about it.”

  “It wasn’t easy.”

  Colleen tried not to get bothered by the flash of compassion in his eyes. “When her husband was dying, he promised to send an angel to heal her broken heart. You have to understand that this man would do anything—everything—for her. She’s been looking for this angel ever since.”

  “And she thinks I’m it?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why me?”

  “I have no idea,” she said, taking in a physique that looked anything but angelic. “I mean, she thinks it’s you because there was a double rainbow in the sky yesterday, the same as there was the day Wayne died, and here you are.”

  “So that’s why she keeps coming around.”

  “Yep, and she’s going to keep coming around until she’s convinced you’re not this angel. What she really needs is to grow up, but that will take a miracle. The best thing you can do is dispel her theory that you’re her angel. I’m sure the last thing you need is her hanging around.”

 
“You got that right. Thanks for the info.”

  “Believe me, it’ll save us all a lot of grief.”

  He went back to work, and Colleen walked out into the hot sun. Maybe that would be the last they’d hear about this angel nonsense.

  CHAPTER 5

  Chase wasn’t sure why he was disappointed about Maddie’s real reason for coming around. He didn’t want any woman hanging around, especially the town’s little darling who was hung up on her dead husband and believed in angels healing her broken heart.

  “Baby,” he said with a laugh and shake of his head.

  Maddie might need an angel, but he sure wasn’t it.

  As he thought over their conversation the day before, it made sense. She’d obviously thought he was someone else. This would be easy. The next time she came around, he’d assure her he wasn’t her angel, and that would be the end of her.

  “Taking lunch today?” Barnie asked as he wheeled into the work area.

  “Nah. I’ve had a few distractions this morning and I’m running behind. I’m hoping to lay down the C-Flex tomorrow.”

  “You’re going to need help with that, aren’t you?”

  “I’ll handle it.”

  “Good. Barnacle working all right for you?”

  “Yes, sir. Appreciate it. Notice you haven’t taken it out in a few years.”

  “Nearly capsized her and realized with the vicious cruelty of old age wisdom that I’m too old to handle her alone. Hell, crushed my nuts just walking on the deck while it was docked.” The alarm went off on his watch. ‘Two minutes to bedtime. Gotta go.”

  Chase immersed himself in letting the strip into the mold. He turned the battered radio to a country station, always searching for a clue to his identity. Did he like country and wear boots? Or was he a rocker? He wondered if he were a bit eccentric like Barnie. He’d met a lot of boat-oriented people. Some were crusty old salts, some were egotistical about their boats. Some were helpful, others suspicious and ill-tempered.