Harlequin Heartwarming May 2016 Box Set: Through the StormHome for KeepsThe Firefighter's RefrainTo Catch a Wife

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Harlequin Heartwarming May 2016 Box Set: Through the StormHome for KeepsThe Firefighter's RefrainTo Catch a Wife Page 32

by Rula Sinara


  “Yep, Green Meadows is my project. I’m Grace Huber.”

  They shook hands.

  “Nice to meet you, Grace.”

  Caleb said, “Green Meadows is a terrific place. You’re the perfect person to spread the word. Some of the college’s full-time faculty might be interested in living there.”

  Lorraine nodded. “I’m sure.”

  “Or if you know anyone else who wants to take a look at a condo or town house, let Grace know,” Caleb continued.

  He was being rather pushy, Grace thought. She needed more sales but announcing the availability of the dwellings to everyone they spoke to was not the way she wanted to do it. Not wanting to sound desperate, she preferred making acquaintances, then sending out mailers.

  “And don’t worry about those rumors about hauntings,” he added.

  “Hmm.” The librarian looked thoughtful. “Hauntings.”

  Wondering why he had to bring that up, Grace joked, “Our friendly ghost tour operator is making up stories to get more customers. I hope he won’t discourage anybody.”

  The librarian laughed. “I hardly think so.” Then she got back to the task at hand. “What exactly are you looking for?”

  “We need records that start at the end of World War I,” Grace said. “Not sure how many years we need to check.”

  “Give me a few minutes.”

  Lorraine disappeared into the bowels of the library. Grace wandered over to a directory and map both of the campus and of the building, which also housed offices, the computer lab, the media production center and the cafeteria. Everything a student could possibly need outside the classroom. A large area of the library was devoted to research computers, and she could see that most were in use by students.

  A few minutes later, Lorraine returned with a stack of boxes. “This is the Sparrow Lake Journal collection. Each microfiche holds a year of newspaper accounts. I brought all years from 1818 through 1925.”

  “That should do it,” Grace said.

  “Thanks, Lorraine.” Taking the stack from her, Caleb led the way to a bank of computers hooked up to other equipment.

  Grace was glad to see that, at the moment, they had free access.

  “The microfiche and microfilm readers actually feed into the computers,” Caleb said. “And if the original materials aren’t the best, they can be manipulated so they are more readable. You can even save a file and make notes on it, then scan and email it to yourself if you want.”

  “Wow. I guess I’m a little behind on technology.”

  “You probably didn’t have reason to go searching through old records before.”

  “True.”

  “It’s easy enough. I’ll get you started.”

  Grace sat. Caleb stood behind her and helped her hook up the microfiche that covered the Sparrow Lake Journal in 1918. He was so close and kept brushing her arm or hand with his, leaving her wildly distracted every time they made contact. It was a relief that once he set her up, Caleb seated himself at the station next to hers. Maybe now she could concentrate.

  Going through the microfiche via the computer was fast work. Though the armistice hadn’t been signed until November 11, Grace started in January and quickly scanned the weekly front pages, which covered the war and had pieces on local heroes who gave up their lives for their country. Nothing about anyone named Whitman, though. When she got to the end of the year, she glanced over at Caleb, who seemed to be going through 1919 at a more deliberate pace. He was doing more than simply taking a look at front pages. He was scanning through the entire journal, though in those days, the local paper was only six pages, so it didn’t take him all that long, either.

  When Caleb realized she was watching him, he said, “Oh, you’re done. I’ll set you up with 1920.”

  “Perhaps you could simply tell me what to do so I don’t have to bother you every time.”

  But he was the one bothering her. He gave her instructions as she asked, but he stood so close behind her that his breath feathered the hair around her ear. A thrill shot through Grace so that she lost her grip on the microfiche, and the next thing she knew, Caleb grabbed for her hand...and covered it with his own. Her pulse surged. Surely he could feel it. Surely he could tell he took away her breath.

  But when he said, “Here, let me show you how to do it,” she wondered if he even had a clue.

  She concentrated on the process Caleb demonstrated for her. She really tried her best, but when he was done, she wasn’t certain that she’d absorbed enough details to manage it herself.

  Even so, she smiled up at him and murmured, “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  Yes, there was a problem. Caleb Blackthorne was a problem. Ack! No, to be honest, he wasn’t the problem. She was. He was doing just peachy. While he was on an even keel, her attraction to the man was getting her more and more flustered.

  She had to get her emotions under control.

  He obviously liked her or he wouldn’t have asked her to go camping with his class. But that was still more than a week away. Too bad he hadn’t asked her out for the coming weekend...although she could ask him.

  She had to stop thinking about him or she would never get anything done. Caleb was back in his own seat, setting up a new microfiche. Forcing herself to focus on the Journal on her computer screen, she went through 1920, a week at a time, checking every page.

  And then, in the third week of December, she found the story: Couple Dies Due To Early Snowstorm.

  Glancing over the article, she said, “Maynard Whitman did die in the farmhouse in 1920.”

  The next thing she knew, Caleb was behind her reading aloud. “Mr. Whitman died from a head wound. It appeared he took an accidental fall in the kitchen and hit his head on the edge of the table. His wife, Arlene, was found on the road. She died of exposure, and authorities conjectured she was trying to go for help for her husband.”

  He was close enough that his voice vibrated through Grace, distracting her yet again. What would it feel like if he put his arms around her...touched his lips to her ear...

  “Well, that’s a totally different story from the one Mr. Pryce is selling.”

  Grace practically choked at the reminder of their purpose for being there. “So no one thought it was murder.”

  That did relieve her somewhat. She could counter the tour operator’s claims. What was stressing her out at the moment was...well, Caleb! Grace forced her attention back to the screen as he continued to read.

  “The Whitmans are survived by their only son, Frank, institutionalized in the state hospital after returning broken by the Great War.”

  “Poor man,” Grace murmured.

  “Institutionalized. Not running around with weapons looking for more Germans. And no murdered ghost cow, either.”

  “Well, that’s a relief to know.”

  “And now you have proof.”

  He helped her scan the article and send it to herself. Rather, he pretty much handled it all—he was definitely a take-charge type of man—and Grace spent the time just staring at him. He was also something to see, especially up close.

  When he finished, they took all the microfiche back to Lorraine.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” the librarian asked.

  “Thankfully, yes,” Grace said. “For Green Meadows. Not for the poor couple and their son.”

  Caleb told her, “Both Whitman and his wife died in the winter of 1920, but there was no murder involved.”

  “Glad I could help you clear that up. I’ve seen those fliers around.” The librarian shook her head, then said, “You know, my youngest sister has been talking about moving back to Sparrow Lake from Indianapolis. She’ll be in town next week, actually. I was thinking about taking her over to Green Meadows. I know she lives in a
new condo complex now, so I bet she would like your community.”

  “That’s great,” said Caleb, though the woman had been addressing Grace. He looked at Grace. “Have a card?”

  She was already digging in her purse.

  Caleb said, “Give Grace a call if you would like a personal tour of the place.”

  “Thanks.”

  Grace smiled but told Caleb as they left the place, “You know I can do my own sales work, don’t you?”

  “Sure, but I didn’t think you’d mind some help.”

  “I don’t mind. It’s...”

  “What?”

  She really didn’t want to complain when she knew he meant the best. “Nothing. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Amazing, you cleared up the mystery and have a potential new client all in one sweep,” Caleb said, as they crossed to the parking lot. “That’s a positive outcome.”

  “This couldn’t have turned out better for me. Thanks for thinking of using the school library.”

  “I enjoyed the challenge. And spending some time with you. The highlight of my day.”

  “Mine, too,” Grace admitted.

  When they stopped at her car, he asked, “I was just wondering if you were free Friday night.”

  “Friday?” Her pulse jumped and she had to swallow hard to sound normal. “Actually, I was planning on going to the fund-raiser social being given by the First Presbyterian Ladies Auxiliary.”

  “Oh.” The corners of his mouth turned down. “Well, maybe another time.”

  “Unless...um...you would consider going with me. I have to warn you, though. Heather recommended I use the event to make more contacts for Green Meadows, so I’ll be meeting and greeting.”

  “As well you should. You need to get to know everyone.” His mouth relaxed into a natural smile. “Get those new sales going and you won’t be able to leave Sparrow Lake.”

  Caleb sounded as if he wanted her to stay.

  “Then you wouldn’t mind going with me?” she asked.

  “I would love to be your escort.”

  And she would love for Caleb to see her in the new dress she’d just bought from Nellie’s Treasures. “It’s a date, then.”

  The final positive touch on an all-around good day.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “WHAT ARE YOU getting all dressed up for anyway?” Angela asked as Caleb walked into the living area buttoning the sleeves of his newest and best shirt, the blue one Angela had given him for Christmas.

  “I told you I was going to the fund-raiser.”

  “Without me.”

  “I didn’t know you wanted my company. You haven’t exactly been paying me any mind lately,” he reminded her. “Besides, your grandmother wants to spend some quality time with her granddaughter.”

  “Gran Maddie already saw me this week.”

  True. But Angela had always liked being around her grandmother. Caleb eyed his daughter with suspicion. She’d barely started speaking to him again, so he didn’t believe she was eager for his company. There was something else twirling around in her teenage mind. Her eyebrows were pulled together in a huge frown and she was glaring at him.

  “So you want me to tell your grandmother you don’t want to see her again?” he asked.

  “I didn’t say that!”

  Thinking she looked ready to pop, Caleb asked, “What are you saying?”

  Silent for a moment, her expression darkening, she said, “You’re going out with her, aren’t you?”

  And there it was.

  Caleb knew that Angela meant Grace, and of course she was correct, but he’d avoided getting into details of his evening out so as to avoid the argument he’d sensed brewing since he’d arrived home from school.

  He was trying to figure out how best to handle the situation when Angela asked, “What’s going on with you and Grace Huber, anyway?”

  “We’re friends.”

  He might like to be more, but for the moment, that was a good start. Plus, it was an accurate enough description for his daughter.

  “No,” Angela argued, “if you’re going out with her tonight—a Friday night!—then you’re dating her. How could you do that now? You need to think about me, Dad.”

  As if she hadn’t been the only thing he’d thought about for the past fifteen years.

  He tried to lighten her mood.

  “You want to come along on the date?” He raised an eyebrow as he met her sullen expression.

  “No! I don’t want you to date her at all! What about my mother?”

  A question that shot tension straight through him. Angela might be talking to him again, but he knew they weren’t through with this particular topic. Not after the fight with Lily that his daughter had witnessed.

  He kept his voice even. “Lily? What about her? What does she have to do with anything?”

  “She’s back and you’re keeping me from seeing her.”

  “I don’t even know where she’s staying.”

  Truthfully, he’d been looking over his shoulder the past few days, wondering when Lily was going to pop up again. Also, truthfully, he didn’t want his daughter seeing her mother right now, not with Lily threatening to take Angela away from him. She could legally assert her rights as a biological mother even though she’d never done a thing for her child. And what if Angela wanted to live with Lily and not him? The idea made his gut go tight.

  Angela crossed her arms over her chest and challenged him. “You don’t want my mother in my life. Just admit it.”

  But he would never say that, not to her. “I don’t want Lily in my life. And please note that she hasn’t done anything positive to connect with you.” Which he had to admit had been a relief under the circumstances. “That’s not my fault.”

  “Well, I don’t want Grace Huber in my life,” Angela told him.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I do want to get to know her better.” Caleb fought the stress suddenly multiplying in him. He didn’t want to argue, didn’t want to give Angela a reason to feel justified. “I like Grace. She’s a good person. Whether or not you realize it, she could have pressed charges against you when you painted that mural in Green Meadows, but she didn’t even consider it. She was more concerned about you. That’s why she came here, to make sure that you were okay.” The initial reason he’d been drawn to her.

  “If you take up with her, where does that leave me?”

  The touch of panic in Angela’s voice made his chest squeeze tight. He couldn’t love his daughter more, and there was no way he would leave her out of any equation, not even if Grace turned out to be far more important to him than a good friend. Which of course was likely, considering he couldn’t stop thinking about holding her and kissing her.

  But to reassure his worried daughter, he put an arm around her and pulled her close enough that he could kiss her forehead. “Why are you getting so worked up over my having a date? I’ve gone out with several other women and it never seemed to bother you before. Grace and I are not at any place where you need to be concerned. I’m just getting to know her.” He tried joking to lighten the atmosphere. “I swear I haven’t offered to pay her father six horses for her.” But Angela’s down-turned mouth told him she didn’t appreciate his humor. “I simply enjoy being with Grace. We’re interested in the same things. That’s not anything to worry about.”

  But obviously Angela was worried, because she struggled out of his arms, yelling, “If you loved me, you would try rebuilding a relationship with my mother, not with some stranger!”

  “A relationship?”

  He wasn’t even receptive to being friends with Lily. But was that a mistake on his part? If so, he didn’t want it affecting his daughter’s future.

  Car lights flickered through the front windows t
hen went dim as the engine cut off. His mother was here to pick up Angela.

  Swallowing hard at his daughter’s unhappiness, Caleb knew he was going to have to rethink the Lily situation.

  * * *

  HAVING SPENT MORE than an hour getting ready for her date with Caleb, Grace felt her nerves escalating until the moment she heard the knock at her front door.

  He was here!

  She took a deep breath to calm herself and called, “Coming!” as she quickly moved to let him in.

  After opening the door, she simply stood there for a moment, staring. Wearing trousers and a cobalt blue shirt open at the throat, Caleb was more formally dressed than she’d ever seen him. His long black hair was tied back from his clean-shaven but clearly rugged face. High forehead. Broad cheekbones. Straight blade of a nose. He was breathtakingly handsome. His dark eyes swept over her and his full mouth curled into a warm smile.

  “Wow,” he murmured.

  “Wow yourself.”

  The words were out of her mouth before she could think about them. His smile deepened to a grin. As did hers.

  “Are you ready to go?”

  She felt as if she’d been ready for this all day. All week.

  “I am. Just let me get my purse.”

  Which gave her a minute to steady her nerves. She fetched the small navy crossbody bag from the sofa. She wished she’d thought to buy a purse and shoes with a little more delicacy to go with the pretty dress, but the bag and a pair of navy work pumps would have to do for tonight. And from the way Caleb was staring at her, he didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

  They left Grace’s apartment and walked down the single flight of stairs. Her rental was a half block off Main Street and located over a stationery shop, a three-minute walk from her office. Very convenient, but there were days when she wished she’d taken a condo unit in Green Meadows, just to enjoy the beautiful surroundings. If Phase 2 got the green light, perhaps she would consider moving.

  “First Presbyterian is on the other side of town, so I’ll drive,” Caleb said. Once they were settled in his truck and he pulled away from the curb, he asked, “So what kinds of things will they do to raise money tonight?”

 

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