by Meier, Susan
…
Finn had just gone to his room to get ready for bed when his phone rang. He glanced at caller ID.
His second brother, Cade.
“Don’t you know what time it is?”
“It’s seven.” Cade laughed. “In Montana.”
“Very funny.”
“How’s Mom?”
“Why don’t you call her?”
“I did. She told me she was fine. Now I’m calling you to make sure.”
He set his phone on the sink’s granite countertop and hit speaker. “So far so good.” He pulled his white T-shirt over his head.
“Dad’s not sniffing around?”
His jaw hardened. “Some days I wish he would.”
“You just stifle that, Marine. The very worst thing you could do is get into a fight with him.”
“Easy for you to say when you’re a convenient two thousand miles away.”
He could picture Cade squirming in the silence that followed. He and Devon had enlisted in the marines immediately after high school. But Cade had been smitten with Lonnie Simmons, prettiest girl in his class at Harmony Hills High. She’d finally noticed him their senior year, and almost immediately after they began dating, she’d gotten pregnant. Cade was supposed to marry her after they graduated. But the day of their wedding, he’d seen DNA test results that proved Lonnie’s baby wasn’t his—and she’d known. He couldn’t tell anyone the doctor had shown him the results or Doc would lose his license. The whole town believed he’d deserted her when he’d left her at the altar. If he came back, he faced a shitstorm.
“I’ll be home,” Cade growled. “Eventually. So what’s up with you and the McDermott girl competing again?”
Finn cursed. “Devon’s got a big mouth.”
“Come on.” Cade laughed. “You used to be able to take teasing better than this.”
“This isn’t funny. Her dad is sick. She hates her family’s funeral home. She works in Pittsburgh. There’s no reason for her to be here.”
“Except she is.”
He slipped on a pair of sweatpants. “Right.”
“Don’t let her get in your head, little brother. You’ve been working that town for its business for six months.”
Dressed now, he picked up his phone and took it off speaker. “I have.”
“And you were doing well.”
He turned off the master bathroom light and walked into his bedroom. “I was. I was getting the advance business—prepaid funerals. A much better way to earn a living than sitting around waiting for people to die.”
“So go back to doing what you were doing.”
“Right.” He sat on his bed and ran a hand down his face. He did have a few ideas. And he’d never so easily let Ellie McDermott walk all over him.
So she was in advertising? So she had a few tools he didn’t? He could be every bit as crafty as she was.
…
Late Wednesday night, Ellie turned off the highway and drove the next five miles on back roads that wound through the mountains of west-central Pennsylvania. Having had three full days to get the Tidy Whitiez campaign going in the right direction, she felt comfortable, relaxed. After two nights’ sleep in her own bed, her energy was back—and her optimism. No blond-haired, blue-eyed charmer was getting the better of her. She was ready to run McDermott’s.
She winced. Just as soon as somebody died.
The closer she got to Harmony Hills, the more signs of civilization. Houses. Telephone poles. Billboards.
The new electronic billboards sort of surprised her. She saw them regularly in cities, used them for her own ad campaigns. She simply wasn’t accustomed to seeing them in the trees of the forest that lined the rickety road to Harmony Hills.
Especially not one with…
She leaned forward, narrowed her eyes.
Were those angels?
The closer she got to the billboard, the clearer it became that they were indeed angels. In fact, the billboard pictured Finn Donovan flanked by angels. Donovan’s Funeral Home…let us lead your loved ones home.
She pulled her car to the side of the road, screeched to a stop, and got out, staring at the brightly colored electric sign that rotated to an advertisement for the town mechanic, the used car dealer, the diner, someone’s birthday, and finally back to Finn.
Her mouth fell open. Every version that rolled by had an even stronger message.
We’ll carry your loved ones home.
We’ll escort your loved ones to the pearly gates.
In your time of need, let us carry the burden the way less-experienced proprietors can’t.
Oh, for God’s sake! That was a jab at her! Which was probably exactly what he’d needed to counter the plea in her brochure. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.
The screen flipped again. The town mechanic, the used car dealer, the diner, someone’s birthday, and back to Finn.
She looked closer…
Was one of those angels flanking him Barbara Beth—blond and beautiful—looking angelic in her white robe and big white wings?
It was Barbara Beth! Posing in an ad for the opposition!
Oh, she was so fired.
Driving home, she saw the ads two more times. He’d plastered the town with them!
She stomped up the porch steps, shoved her key into the lock, and just barely resisted screaming as she ran up the stairs to the apartment.
This was war.
…
Friday morning, Finn entered the diner dressed for work in gray trousers, a white oxford shirt, and a tie, which he left loose at the neck as a nod to the fact that he worked in a comfortable small town. Newspaper tucked under his arm, he ambled to a back booth.
He ordered coffee and the big breakfast, since he was trying very hard to counter Ellie’s brochures by looking unaffected by them. When the waitress left, he opened the paper and there it was.
FREE FLORAL ARRANGEMENT. A $200 VALUE. MCDERMOTT’S FUNERAL HOME. WHERE WE PUT FAMILY FIRST.
His mouth fell open. A coupon? Seriously?
With every second that passed, he got angrier and antsier. Still, he finished his breakfast, flirted with the waitress, gave her a good tip, and then strolled up the street as if nothing were wrong. Except he tossed the newspaper in the trash because her coupon had him virtually vibrating with anger.
He had to counter this. Even though they were going on two long weeks with no deaths, he had to counter.
He stopped himself. Did he really have to? Ellie only seemed to be going after immediate funerals, while he was working the prepaid funeral angle. Technically, unless she went after the prepaid funerals, her coupon was worthless. Her brochures a moot point.
Still, he couldn’t let her keep the psychological advantage. If he wanted her to sell that place, she had to hit her limit. See that she’d taken on too much. Remember how much she hated living in Harmony Hills. In other words, she had to be miserable. And he didn’t need to spend money to make her miserable.
A thought came. He chuckled.
Yep, he didn’t have to spend money to get to her.
…
Ellie returned from another trip to O’Riley’s Market with two bags of groceries. Steaks. Potatoes. Fixings for salad. And fresh veggies. Now that the living quarters were clean, she would take care of her diet. No more sadness cupcakes.
She pulled her car into a parking space in front of the funeral home for easier access to the house, opened the door, and swung out.
Seeing Finn sitting on the park bench across the street, the one that faced McDermott’s, she narrowed her eyes.
Was he reading a book?
She gave herself a mental shake and opened the back door of her car. What did she care if he was reading a book across from her funeral home? It was a free country. He could read in the park if he so desired.
She wouldn’t let her eyes stroll across the quiet small-town street. Refused. She could hear kids playing in the playground. She knew their parents or
babysitters would be standing in clusters, chitchatting. It would be ridiculously foolish to look at him. It would be worse to march across the street and ask if he was sitting there, focusing on her business, doing some kind of positive-thinking voodoo to try to mess with her mind, so she’d sell McDermott’s to him.
When she bent into the backseat to retrieve her two bags of groceries, she was hidden by the car, so she let her eyes inch upward. Through the window she saw he hadn’t moved. And he wasn’t looking at her.
The bastard.
What the hell did he want? What the hell was he doing?
Well, physically, he was reading a book. But why directly across from her business?
She pulled the bags out of the car, turned, and walked up her sidewalk. On the big front porch, she set her groceries on one of the two wicker chairs in front of the swing and unlocked the door. She retrieved the bags, fighting her eyes that wanted to look at him, and walked inside, up the stairs. At the top, she unlocked the door to the living quarters.
She stowed her groceries in a cabinet, and realized it was high time she tossed the outdated food. As a bonus, that would keep her too busy to look out the window until Finn was gone.
But her dad had let the coffers get pathetically low, so low it took only a half hour to empty the cupboards and wipe down the shelves.
Still, that was plenty of time for Finn to get bored and leave. Standing by the side of the kitchen window, she pushed the curtain slightly to the left, not so far that she could be seen but enough that she could see, and damned if he wasn’t still there.
What a pain in the ass.
Though she had to admit he looked kind of cute in his oxford shirt, business pants, and those shiny black boots. Reading on a bench. One of the things about him that had always appealed to her was his intelligence.
She paused. Was he reminding her that he was smart? Was that what this was? I wanted to kiss you. Now I’m showing you that I’m smart.
Was he seducing her?
The absurdity in that jump in logic made her laugh. And also caused her to speculate that he might be trying to make her so uncomfortable that she gave up, and sold him her funeral home.
No way. She was not letting him drive her out.
She tossed her rubber gloves into the sink, grabbed her house key, and marched across the street. She glanced around. Most of the kids had gone home. If Finn made a scene, he’d only embarrass her in front of two teenage girls who were babysitting small children, and one dog.
Still, when she reached him he didn’t look up. She kicked his booted foot off his knee.
There. Now he looked up.
He gaped at her as if she’d knocked him out of a trance. “What?”
“What yourself. What are you doing here staring at my front door?”
He displayed the book. “I’m not staring at your front door—I’m reading. In case you haven’t noticed, neither one of us has a lot of work right now.”
“Do you have to read across from my house?”
“It’s the park. I’m on the bench that faces away from the kids and the noise.” He shook his head. “Geez, you’re suspicious.”
“Oh, yeah? You don’t think I should be suspicious of the guy who stole Barbara Beth for his dumb ad?”
“I didn’t steal her. She needed the money.”
“Right, like I believe that. My mother was the town beautician. I know Barbara Beth does just fine.”
He paused, frowned at her. “You think Barbara Beth is your beautician?”
Seeing his serious eyes, her heart did a somersault. “What?”
“What?”
She sucked in a breath. “If Barbara Beth’s not my beautician…she’s…she’s…” She couldn’t be.
“We went to the same school.”
OMG. “At the same time?”
“No. Because of my stint in the marines, she was ahead of me. The day we met on campus, we had coffee and she told me she was tired of working on unappreciative people’s hair.”
Ellie collapsed against the back of the park bench. “Barbara Beth is my embalmer.”
“Which means she also has to be the person running your company. Or at least be the face of your business.”
“And you stole her!”
“Nope. She just did that one ad with me. She’s still your embalmer.”
“You think I can keep her after she worked for the competition?”
“I don’t think you have a choice.”
Her phone rang. She yanked it her jeans pocket and yelped, “McDermott’s!”
“Is this Ellie McDermott?”
Oh, Lord. A normal person. A fight with Finn had just made her yell at a normal person. “Yes. I’m sorry. This is Ellie.”
“Ellie, this is Mary Sue Berkey.” There was a pause for a sniffle. “My granddad passed away.”
Shock numbed her body, rendered her speechless with giddy joy. Was she getting some business?
“My family’s not sure what to do.”
She spared a glance at Finn, really wishing she could snicker, then had to work to compose herself. Her good fortune was Mary Sue’s sorrow—even if Old Bob Berkey was past a hundred.
“I’m so sorry, Mary Sue. You and your family just sit tight and let McDermott’s take care of you.”
She hung up the phone, fighting to hold back a whoop of joy.
“You got a funeral, didn’t you?”
The relief that filled her almost had her laughing again. “Yes.”
“It appears the appeals for your dad worked.”
She rose from the bench. She didn’t quite trust the look in his eyes, but she had a funeral to plan. As her father always said, McDermott’s provides a service. We take care of families.
And, by God, that’s exactly what she’d do. Take care of the Berkeys.
That is, if she and her team could do a funeral as well as her father always had—with Barbara Beth as embalmer and the face of her business.
Oh, dear God.
Chapter Seven
“God bless you.” Barbara Beth caught the hand of a mourner as the group solemnly filed out of the church behind the casket. “God bless you.” Another hand. “God bless you.”
Wearing a black sheath and pearls, Ellie stood across the aisle from her, not sure if B.B.’s masculine black suit and over-the-top sympathy were a good thing or a bad thing.
Dan leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You’re doing fine. Great. And we’re almost done. Ten minutes at the graveside, then we’re in the church hall for a nice lunch.”
She knew he’d said that to be reassuring. But lunch meant seeing the Dinner Belles, the women whose gossip had ruined her mom’s reputation. The women whose gossip had made her own life in this town a living hell. After her mom had died, she couldn’t go to the diner, O’Riley’s Market, or even Health Aid without one of them pointing and whispering. She was a late-in-life baby. A mistake. What if Amanda had left because she didn’t want children? What if Amanda hadn’t been cut out to be a mom and though she’d tried for twelve years, she’d just had enough?
Ellie sucked in a breath. If there’d been any other choice for a funeral lunch, she wouldn’t have hired the Dinner Belles. But the nondenominational women’s group did every after-funeral lunch. She couldn’t bypass the offer of their services without causing an uproar. And an uproar meant people would dislike her. People disliking her meant they wouldn’t use McDermott’s. And then her dad would be out on the street.
Barbara Beth pressed her palm to the hand of the last mourner. “God bless you.” When the swinging doors flapped closed behind him, she raced across the aisle to Ellie and Dan.
“Oh my God.” Her voice was quiet, hushed, because they were still in church, but her shiny eyes couldn’t hide her excitement. “That was amazing.”
Shaking his head, Dan left to help the ushers get the casket into the back of the hearse.
Ellie faced Barbara Beth. “You still have to say a few words at the graveside.�
��
She fisted her hands and raised them to her face like an excited child. “That’s right! And I’m the one who tells everybody to meet at the church hall for lunch.”
“That’d be you.”
Barbara Beth breathed deeply, shook her long blond hair down her back, and shifted her face into the appropriate solemn lines. “I’ll see you in the hearse.”
“I’m taking my car.”
Barbara Beth smiled sympathetically at her. “I know you hate these things. So you don’t really need to go to the grave site.” She cleared her throat. “I am the manager, and you said you basically do administrative work like a bookkeeper, right?”
Though it rankled, Ellie said, “Yes.”
“So, we really don’t need you, sweetie.” She put her hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “And the books are somewhat behind…”
“Barbara Beth, you may be the manager, but I’m the owner. What did we say when we talked about this a few nights ago?”
“That I should never help Finn Donovan again.”
“Right. But what else?”
“That I handle the dead bodies and you handle the money.”
“And?”
“And we both work with the people.” She sighed. “But I’m better at it.”
Ellie couldn’t argue that. Though everything Barbara Beth did was over the top, her hugging and crying with the family had worked. Ellie had been more comfortable taking care of the financial end of things and then stepping into the background.
With any other people in the world, she could have been as good as Barbara Beth, but how could she soften to a town full of people who thought her mom was little more than a common whore?
The final ceremony at the graveside went smoothly. Bob Berkey’s family said good-bye to their 102-year-old father, grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great-grandfather, and uncle. His wife was gone. His brothers and sisters were gone. Even his cousins were gone. He was the last of a generation of his family. And though everyone would miss him, they were all glad to see him reunited with his loved ones in the Great Beyond.
So the luncheon in the church hall had the air of a family reunion. Babies were passed around. Hugs and back slaps abounded. Finn and Barbara Beth stood by the minister as he said the blessing. Then people who had been mourners chatted and laughed over baked chicken and rigatoni, and lingered over donated cakes and coffee, as Finn went from table to table, socializing.
