by Rachel Lee
Flora had been a reasonably neat woman, but the second floor was overstuffed, and the attic was full of things that might better go to an antiques store or auction. Whatever meaning they’d had to Flora, it was lost on Haley. The attachments they represented were gone.
Or maybe Flora hadn’t found it easy to let go of things. People could be like that, always thinking they’d find a use for something someday. And then forgot about it or never did. The only dusty part of the house was the attic, so Flora probably hadn’t been up there for years. No reason to go. She’d kept a bedroom upstairs ready for a guest, but the others weren’t prepared and the closets and drawers were full.
It still amazed Haley that so much had been tucked away in the house. As she’d opened each new area for exploration and decision, she’d been surprised that so much could be there. She ought to be used to it by now.
Catching movement from the corner of her eye, she saw Edith Jasper and Bailey coming down the sidewalk. Edith raised a hand, a handled shopping bag hanging from it, and waved. Haley immediately waved back, smiling. A visit would be nice.
A visit was exactly what Edith had in mind. She approached the front steps with Bailey. “Are you busy or do you have some time for a gab?”
“Plenty of time to gab,” Haley answered. “I’m giving myself some time off.”
“You should.”
“Come on up. Join me on the swing, or we can go inside if you like.”
“I’ll take the swing. I frequently sat out here with Flora.” She climbed the three steps and plopped down beside Haley. Bailey took the hint and settled beside her, his snout between his front paws.
“He’s such a beautiful dog,” Haley remarked. “But so big!”
“That has both advantages and disadvantages.” Edie grinned. “He eats for his size. He also likes long walks and an occasional run in the park. Now, the walks are good for me, too, so I can’t complain. But the running? My running years are in the past.” She offered Haley the bag. “For you.”
“Oh, thank you!” Haley looked inside. “Tea!”
“Flora’s two favorite kinds. I decided whatever was in the house couldn’t possibly be fresh, and these might bring you some happy memories.”
“How thoughtful.” Haley smiled then held the open bag to her nose, drawing in the aromas. “The kitchen used to smell like this.”
“Always,” Edie agreed on a light laugh. “I hope you enjoy. And, didn’t I promise to help you sort? I can rattle this old memory a bit for things I may have learned over the years. But since you’re taking the day off, how about you set a time for me and Bailey here to show up. I bet this place is full of treasures.”
“Most of them treasures I know nothing about. I’m torn between a need to clear space and the fear that I might throw out something important. I think the worry is slowing me down.”
“Ah,” said Edie, arching an eyebrow, “how would you ever know if it was important?”
That drew a laugh from Haley.
“What’s more,” Edith added, “what’s the rush? Do you have a timetable? Do you need to get back to Baltimore?”
“I’ll have to go back at the end of the month, if only to put in my notice.”
“If?” Again Edith’s brow raised.
“I know, I keep flip-flopping.”
“Any idea what’s causing the hesitation?”
Haley knew exactly what was causing it: the Peeping Tom. The uneasiness she couldn’t quite escape, matched up against being able to live here near an old friend and the exciting idea of a new job. Part of her was truly ready for a change of scenery, and she loved this house of Flora’s. Another part of her wondered if she’d ever be able to completely relax, though.
“Say,” she said, lifting the bag, trying to be a good hostess—something she wasn’t used to because she was too busy to entertain with any formality. Everything in her crowd back in Baltimore was ad hoc. “Would you like some tea?”
Edith cracked a loud laugh. “I drank it when I had to, which was when I was visiting Flora. I’m not a fan. I don’t know about you, but when I smelled those at the store, it carried me back. If you’re not a tea person, either, you won’t offend me.”
“When I was a kid, I drank it with her. I used to love her pretending to tell my fortune with the tea leaves in the bottom of the cup.”
Edith nodded. “I remember,” she said almost wistfully. “She used to drag that out once in a while so we could share a good laugh. I never took that cruise with a handsome stranger.”
Haley had to giggle. “Well, I’ll enjoy this from time to time in honor of Grandma. When I first got here, I tried to drink it. The whistling of that old teakettle was part of the pleasure for me. I felt almost guilty when I broke out the coffee maker.”
“Times change, even in Flora’s house.” Edith sighed then leaned forward. “That man has been staring.”
Haley swiveled her head as ice rushed down her spine, following Edith’s gaze. She didn’t see a man. “What?”
Edith shook her head. “Nobody special. And if he was staring, he was probably staring at Bailey. That dog sometimes stops traffic.”
“He is large,” Haley agreed as she forced herself to return her attention to Edith, aware that her relaxation was seeping away. Damn, she couldn’t give in to this. She’d had enough trouble adjusting to the idea that she didn’t need to fear every little thing after her kidnapping. Did she want to backtrack? Of course not.
She gave herself a little shake. “You don’t know who it was?”
Edith smiled crookedly. “I may have lived here all my life and there was a time when we were small enough that everyone knew everyone else, at least by sight. Then we grew a bit with the junior college and the now-defunct semiconductor plant. I can no longer say that I know everyone. Anyway, I didn’t get a good enough look. Hate to say it, but I have cataracts and it’s getting close to time to have them removed. What I saw was Vaseline-blurry.”
“Oh, that must be awful!”
“Large-print books these days. Do you have any idea how annoying that is?”
“How come?” Haley was honestly curious.
“Not enough words on a page. Can’t explain it, but I find it off-putting. I’d probably get used to it a lot faster if I didn’t have light—literally—at the end of the tunnel.”
“When’s your surgery?”
“Three months. I’ll make it that long.” Edith shrugged. “Easily. Right now I can’t drive and Bailey is loving it. I have to walk everywhere. I’m probably fitter than I have been in years. As to that man, I’m sorry I drew your attention. To be perfectly frank, I couldn’t see well enough to be sure he was staring. He just didn’t move for a spell. For all I know, he might have been studying a bug at his feet.” She shrugged. “No real reason for anyone to stare at two women gabbing on a front porch.”
“No.” But Haley still couldn’t shake the feeling that Edith had gotten it right when she’d first mentioned it. Something about the man had made Edith feel he was staring, even if she couldn’t see very well. Oh, heck, she needed to stop this.
But suddenly the day didn’t feel quite so beautiful. “Want to come in and we’ll make tea? Or coffee? Bailey is welcome.”
“Sure, but don’t take it amiss if I run soon. I have to meet a friend. And you still have to name a good time for me to come help you sort.”
Edith had just stood when an insistent beeping came from her pocket. “My alarm,” she said. “Sorry, Haley, I’ve got to run. Shelley’s picking me up to take me to the grocery and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”
“Of course. And if you ever need a ride...”
Edith smiled. “I’ll call. And I’ll call you later about our meet-up. You still have Flora’s phone number, right?”
“I do.”
Haley watched briefly as Edith and her gigan
tic dog headed down the street, then slipped inside.
Simple words, possibly mistaken, had killed the afternoon for her. Instead of diving in to more sorting, she put the kettle on and decided she’d have some green tea in honor of Flora.
A few minutes later, as she poured boiling water over aromatic green tea leaves in the flowered teapot, she suddenly realized the day was darkening.
Too early for that, she thought, glancing at the clock. Then a hollow boom rumbled through the house. Wow, the weather had changed fast. It looked as if the morning’s threat of rain had returned. On the front porch, though, she didn’t have a view of the sky. It wouldn’t have taken much time for a heavy cloud to suddenly obliterate the sun.
Another roll lumbered through the house, still sounding distant.
There was a storm on the way.
* * *
Roger looked up from the cantle he was applying the first layer of leather to as the thunder rolled. He loved storms, loved their wildness, but his thoughts immediately turned to Haley. The bright lights under which he worked had made him unaware that the weather was changing. He hoped the deepening darkness he could see through the windows didn’t make her uneasy.
Shaking his head with sudden impatience, he wanted to hurry this last bit of work and get back to her. He couldn’t hurry it, however. This was an important part of the saddle and it had to be constructed just so for the rider’s comfort. Slap-dashing the pieces of leather just wouldn’t do.
Sighing, he ignored the next rumble and bent again to his task. The leather had been softened and stretched into just the right shape. He needed to apply it now.
He did speed up his pace, however. Sacrificing nothing of quality, he was still able to get the pieces joined before the rain started. He cleaned up quickly after hanging the cantle to dry and tighten, then headed out to his truck. He paused just as he locked the shop behind him, remembering that he had promised to bring dinner tonight. Dang.
He didn’t mind the dinner, but he couldn’t help wondering how Haley was dealing with the blackening afternoon. The clouds rolling in were thick and gloomy, maybe a little greenish, a color that always made him a bit uneasy. While they didn’t often have tornadoes in this town, they were possible, and that particular color always made him wonder.
Shaking his head again, he climbed into his truck while still deciding what he should bring to her place. The truck stop diner was farther away and stuck mainly with simple foods that would appeal to a wide variety of truckers. Nothing like home cooking there.
Maude’s was better for that. Each day she prepared a fresh soup, and while the steak sandwich seemed to be a county-wide favorite, she also made a mean meatloaf, super mashed potatoes and a variety of vegetables that were never overcooked.
Meatloaf, he decided. Rib-sticking, always juicy, and someday he was going to learn her secret seasonings. He’d eaten plenty of meatloaf in his day, often at church potlucks, and while there were many good ones, Maude’s beat the bunch.
Given that they’d only had lattes and pie for lunch, he wondered if Haley would think he was trying to ruin her health. The thought almost made him laugh. She’d dug into that chocolate pie like it was ambrosia.
By the time he departed Maude’s and headed for Haley’s, he had a stack of foam containers that held everything from salads to meatloaf, all the trimmings and a couple of pieces of pie that Maude had thrown in because “Haley liked it.”
That was not the Maude he’d grown up with. Of course, maybe she always had been. Her gruffness was familiar, her bluntness equally so, but he’d heard more than one person say that beneath that Gorgon exterior she had a good heart.
Maybe so. He’d seen it a couple of times today.
When he pulled up at Haley’s he saw that all the curtains were closed. The air was fresh with ozone, and the stiffening breeze felt cool. He’d have opened every window in his house for this. Perhaps he could coax her into opening one or two with him there. This time of summer, a storm was a treat.
* * *
Haley had indeed zipped up the house because of Edith’s remark about a man staring at them. Edith, though, had admitted she might have misinterpreted it and her cataracts obscured her vision. Haley knew a little about what cataracts could do. She didn’t have any doubt that Edith might have been unable to see the guy well enough to know what he was looking at.
She only wished she could have seen for herself. But at some point she realized she was going over the top with this. It was just a strong thunderstorm, and if any stupid dude wanted to look in on her, she’d see his face.
So she opened the curtains in her kitchen and looked out. Did the greenish color of the light mean anything? She had no idea, but to her it looked more as if the world outside was deeply under water.
Thunder cracked again, more loudly, as she set about making some coffee for Roger. It was going to be a wild afternoon. She thought about going into Flora’s bedroom to turn on the TV and check the weather forecast and then foreclosed the idea. She wanted to keep the curtains open in the kitchen and watch it happen. She didn’t want to leave an uncovered window unattended.
She sighed and plopped herself at the table, wondering when Roger would arrive. She was developing a dangerous dependency, but she was also developing a stronger and stronger attachment to him. Heck, she was beginning to wish he’d touch her more often. One hug and a bit of hand-holding made her feel cared for, but it was steadily becoming not enough. She wondered how she could break down the barrier he seemed to have erected, or if she even should. She highly valued his friendship and didn’t want to risk it.
Maybe he felt the same. Oh, hell. She was growing confused about everything. She wasn’t used to all this uncertainty.
She tried to tell herself it was a growth experience, but in truth she wondered if she really needed it. Dealing with an old fear after all these years stank. Flip-flopping about where she wanted to spend at least part of her future seemed needless. After all, she had a complete and fulfilling life back home.
And she wondered how she’d be feeling right now if that man hadn’t looked in her window in the middle of the night.
Come on, Roger.
The coffee maker finished brewing with a final puff of steam. The tea she’d made had put a pleasant, familiar, heart-touching aroma in the air, but now the coffee overwhelmed it. She liked it. Flora’s memory had visited a little while but now she was ready for her own pattern again.
Including, it seemed, a long, rolling boom of thunder that felt as if it went on forever.
Did storms get worse here? She supposed it was possible. There were mountains on both sides, but in between lay a large enough plateau to count as a plain. Winds could build, and maybe they poured down from the mountains on both sides until they created some kind of vortex. How would she know? She was no meteorologist.
Almost laughing at this fanciful and uneducated line of thought, she heard the front door open. Urging herself to remain put so as not to seem like a frightened rabbit, she waited until Roger walked into the kitchen carrying a couple of large brown shopping bags.
“Dinner has arrived,” he said cheerfully. Then he sniffed the air. “I smell coffee. Do you mind that I brought lattes?”
“The day I turn down a latte will go on my calendar never to be forgotten.”
He laughed, setting the bags on the table. “Maude noticed you like the chocolate pie, so she threw in a couple of pieces. Feels like this storm is going to get rough. You okay?”
“I opened the curtains so I wouldn’t miss it.”
She rose and went to help him remove the coffees and foam containers from the bags. “What did you do? Buy out all of Maude’s stock?”
He laughed again. “Nope. A very plain meal. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, salads, some broccoli...” His voice trailed off. She looked up and their eyes locked. Suddenly all the air seemed to h
ave fled the room. She floated in a vacuum, unable to breathe as stronger needs took hold.
Before she could find a breath, before she could move another inch, he stepped toward her and pulled her into his embrace. “I can’t resist,” he murmured near her ear.
Oh, man, she didn’t want him to resist. Then a sensation she had never experienced before flooded her. Everything inside her softened like melting butter. Every tension, every concern, faded away as he held her close to his strength and heat.
Around her he created a cocoon that closed out the world. She wanted never to emerge from it.
But then, almost reluctantly, he released her and stood back. Their eyes met again and his were smiling. “You’re a nice armful.”
Wow! She’d never heard that before and wanted to respond somehow. But he’d already turned to the table to finish the unpacking.
“We don’t have to eat right now. The containers will keep it all warm for a while. But I suggest we not waste the lattes.”
Just like that, the day went back to normal. Except for a boom that felt as if it shook the house. Windows rattled audibly and Haley quickly looked out toward the day. “It’s going to be bad, isn’t it?”
“Yup.” He folded the paper bags and set them to one side. “I don’t even need to check the forecast. While I was out getting our dinner, I had a good view of the sky. The storm is still building.”
He placed one of the lattes in front of her seat and his own across from it. “Wanna open up a few of the windows before it starts raining? I don’t know about you, but I love the way the air smells before a storm, and this place could use a good airing, don’t you think? And since I’m here...”
She nodded. “That would be good. I’ve got to stop living like a troglodyte.”
“First coffee before it cools down. I was surprised when I pulled up, though, to see you have all the curtains drawn again. You weren’t doing it so much just recently.”
