Snow Belle (Madison Creek Bed & Breakfast Book 1)
Page 7
She went to the shed just outside the back door and brought in the toolbox and a dolly, along with a length of rope and plastic bags to catch any soot and ashes. She had a ramp in the back of her truck which she used when moving hay out of Lady Blue’s bed to the barn for her horses.
The Yank was soon back, wearing a worn sweatshirt. They worked together in silence, securing the stove to the dolly, and then wheeling it outside to the drive.
“At least the floors hold. That’s something,” Ethan joked as he pushed the transport along the back walk.
After tugging and pulling and pushing, they finally got the stove into the back of the truck. Wally was now running circles around them, wagging his tail at Ethan, then Haley, then back to Ethan who bent down to scratch the dog’s shaggy ears each time.
“You should get some rest,” Haley suggested. “I’ll take it to town later on.”
Ethan reached over and pulled at the string to her hood. “Let me help when you do, Haley. It’s the least I can do for you letting me stay here.”
She had to laugh. “I was afraid I’d done you another bad turn. As if knocking your car off the road wasn’t bad enough.”
He shook his finger at her. “I told you I was just as much to blame for that. I’ll get antsy here with nothing to do. A bored Ethan is nothing but trouble, let me assure you.” He winked, and she felt her cheeks warm again. “At least let me help you with things you need to do around here to get the house ready to sell. It’s a shame it can’t be fixed up. What a beauty.”
“Like I said before, what good will it do me to fix it up?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “I know of people who’d love to come stay in a pretty place like this, with a view of the lake in the distance and a river nearby. Is there much tourist activity in the summer?”
“Oh, yeah, they have a whole area where boaters moor, but there’s not a lot here for them to do. The next town fifty miles down the shore has all kinds of nice restaurants and shopping. It’s what they’ve been wanting to do here, trying to revive Madison Creek.”
She leaned against the truck, resting her chin on her hands along the side of the bed as she remembered how pretty the house used to look. “I do understand why everyone’s so put out with me for selling. I’d hoped someone around here would buy the house and fix it, but they’re all as hard up as me.”
“Is that why you went with with the restaurant idea?” he asked, propping his chin on his hands beside her.
Why’d he have to stand so danged close?
“Well, it was the only thing I could think of. All I’m really good at is cooking. Been working in ranch cook-houses since I was old enough to reach over the kitchen counter.”
He smiled at her. “I completely understand. You and I are pretty much in the same predicament. Trying to figure out how to make a life out of doing what we’re best at. It’s not easy, but I can’t help but wonder… if God gave me my talents, then why wouldn’t He want me to find a way to use them?”
She studied him for a long moment. She knew God. Memaw read to her from her old worn Bible every night before bed. The stories were often thrilling and hard to believe. Papop insisted God was real and could be thought of as a close friend. She hadn’t had any really close friends in a long time. Not with the way Momma and Maddix moved from ranch to rodeo and back to ranch life again. And though she loved Lexie, their age differences kept them from being anything more than sisterly toward each other. Actually, Haley was more of a mom figure than Momma had been.
“That’s right, you want to play your violin in the orchestra, right?” Another reason not to get attached to the handsome Yank, Haley. “I can’t wait to hear you play.” She pushed away from the truck and circled around to the driver’s side. Opening the door, she motioned for Wally to hop in. “You did promise.”
“And you promised to cook dinner if I remember correctly. Does that mean you’ll be back later?”
She grinned, feeling a blush warm her cheeks. “Yes sir. I’ll make us some of my famous five…or, maybe I best make it a three-alarm chili. It’s hard to get the right kind of peppers up here. But I have some in the freezer that’ll work.”
His mouth dropped. “You do realize Northern taste buds might not be too keen on your hot and spicy…” His brow arched. “Food.”
“Oh, you’ll love it.” She climbed in and started the engine. Thankfully it turned over. “Take care of that head,” she called out the window as she drove slowly down the wet drive. At least her tires were now able to meet pavement. The house filled her rearview mirror and she wondered about Ethan’s suggestion. Would people really pay to stay in some old house? Maybe. It had to be better than staying at the Bates Motel with its bugs and rodents and all.
Karen Black was always going on about Madison Creek needing a nice hotel so people might have a place to stay. If they had a place to stay, then they’d likely hang around longer than just a few quick hours. Still, the Madison house was a far cry from a decent hotel.
Not to mention, she knew nothing about running a hotel. Haley started to roll up her window until she saw the mailbox and realized she hadn’t stopped to check it in a couple of days. Pulling alongside, she opened it and found a couple of letters tucked in between several ads.
One with the seal for the State of Texas stamped in the corner, caught her attention.
“Uh-oh, now what?” Maddix wouldn’t get out of prison for at least another ten years, if then. But this one wasn’t from the prison system. No, it was from the juvenile justice system. Lexie!
Haley held her breath and ripped open the envelope. Unfolding the crisp, white stationary, she read:
Miss Madison,
I’m writing to inform you that your sister, Alexandria Marie Hamilton, is being held in the Wise County Juvenile Detention Facility until her hearing scheduled for January 16th. When I have more details, I’ll send you an update. As it stands, Alexandria has been charged with public intoxication and shoplifting.
She will not be allowed to return to her foster home. And to be honest, I’m not sure if we’ll be able to find her another one pending her hearing. I’m sorry to have to send this report. I understand you are trying to establish a job and residence in hopes of taking over custody. I hope you can accomplish this soon, for her sake.
Please call if you have any questions or an update on your status. I will include the newest number where you can contact your sister. Perhaps for now, what she needs is the structure the facility will provide for her. I hear she is attending her alternative school regularly again. This is good news.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Thank you,
Glenda Wilson
“No, Lexie.” Tears flooded Haley’s eyes despite how she fought to hold them back. “What am I going to do?”
This was no time to get sidetracked with false aspirations and hopes. No, she had to stay on course and see her plan through. She’d need to purchase a trailer for them to live in. No judge would allow them to live in that drafty old barn.
Haley pressed her forehead against the steering wheel. “Lord, know I’ve not been a great friend lately. But, please, I’m doing my best. You gotta help me here. I have to get my sissy out of that mess. I sure could use a bit more help here. You know?”
Chapter Seven
After finding a hammer and some nails, Ethan repaired the loose boards on the balcony off his room. The more he looked around, the more convinced he was that the old house was fixable. For the life of him, he couldn’t fathom why Haley wanted that old, dilapidated barn over this magnificent Victorian. She could easily turn the house into a viable business, although he had to wonder just how much thought she had actually put into her plan.
Once the railings were secured he pulled one of the chairs out onto the balcony, where he was able to watch the sunset over Lake Michigan while he had that talk with his family. He turned on his phone and waited for it to load up. Tapping the number for home, he silently pl
eaded that Mom would answer.
Instead, his younger brother Jeremy greeted him.
“I need to talk to Mom, squirt. Don’t let on that it’s me on the phone.”
“Why?”
“Just do it!” Kids.
His squeaky voice nearly blasted a hole in Ethan’s eardrum as he screeched for Mom.
“Thanks, man,” Ethan muttered under his breath. If Dad was anywhere around, he’d never get off the line without having to talk to him, too. Jeremy told her who it was when he passed the phone to her.
“Hello, dear,” her cheerful tone caused him to cringe, knowing his news would disappoint her. “Are you almost here?”
“Mom, are you alone?”
The line went quiet. Through the receiver he heard a door shut. “I am now.” That meant she must have went into the only room that offered her any sense of privacy. The bathroom. “What’s going on, Ethan Gene? Are you okay?”
He sucked in a deep breath, knowing he just needed to get his news out there. Like ripping off a bandage—quick. “I’ve had a little accident. But I’m fine. Nobody was hurt. Just the front panel on my car. Well, and a bump on my head. But that’s fine, too.”
She remained silent for a moment and he wondered if she was sending up a quiet prayer of thanks. “Is your car fixable? I know how much you love that old thing.”
“Yes, they’ll start working on it soon as possible, but—”
“What do you need, hon? Would you like a ticket home, or… well, your father isn’t going to be willing to pay to have it fixed, but maybe I can—”
“No, Mom, I have it taken care of. But I doubt I’ll make it home by Thanksgiving.” Ethan bit his bottom lip, waiting for the explosions. But none came.
“I understand….” Her disappointment filled the silence that followed her words.
“Mom, I… uh, I think this is a blessing. I, uh, I’m not ready to give up yet. There’s one more chance for me, though it’s a long shot.”
“Bekka told me you were going to try out for an orchestra in New York. Are you sure that’s what you want? Or more, importantly, what the Lord wants?”
Bekka was a year older than Ethan, and his closest sibling. She’d been the one who researched how to try out for talent shows in the first place. He and Stephen had auditioned for three of them, and the last one gave them a ticket to Hollywood.
Maybe because he and Bek entertained each other so much while growing up they’d become each other’s confidant. They were so close in age and looks, people often mistook them for twins.
Ethan figured Mom must have cornered Bek with every threat and guilt trip imaginable to get her to admit why he was taking his time getting home. He’d been so sure New York would call before Thanksgiving. He sighed, resting his head back against the cushy chair. Just another pipe dream, he supposed.
“Mom, I’m not sure anymore what God wants from me. They said I was really good. The judged loved my style of music and thought I had a real shot. But we’d signed on as a team. I have no idea why Stephen left me without a word.”
“Have you talked to him, hon?”
“No. I’m still too angry. When I cool off, I’ll talk to him.” His leg jiggled with his irritation. Even the thought of talking to Stephen set Ethan’s nerves on fire. Nope. Maybe a few weeks down the line he’d be ready to hear his lame excuses. “I’m not thrilled with Bekka ratting me out, either. I would have told you myself when I got home. It was a long shot anyway.”
“Ethan,” Mom breathed out a long sigh. “I wouldn’t have tried to deter you. I know this is your dream. But I hate the idea of you being alone for Thanksgiving. How about if I pay for a rental car? You can return to wherever you are after the holidays. I have some mad money stashed in savings I can loan you.”
He’d already borrowed way too much money to fund his adventure as it was. “I’m not really alone. I ended up in this little lakeside town, and Haley,” he paused, knowing she’d not know who he was talking about. How to explain the pretty snowbelle who’d blown him off course? “She’s letting me stay in her family’s house.” He told her about how the accident came about and the beautiful old house he was now residing in.
“It’s a nice little town. And… I….” What was he trying to say? What did he really want, other than more time before he returned home and attempted to fit into Dad’s plans for him? Plans he really wanted no part of.
“Look, Mom, I’ll be home for Christmas. If we’d made the last auditions, we both know I would have been alone for Thanksgiving, anyway. But I’m fine here. Maybe… I don’t know. It sounds weird, I know, but maybe this wasn’t an accident.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing he must sound like some kind of fanatic or something. “Can you please explain my delay to Dad? I… just… I know he means well, but I can’t take his job offer. At least, not before I try a few more options. I’m not ready to give up. It feels so wrong. And I know he’s holding that position open—”
“Okay, son.” She cut off his ramblings. “But you listen, this goes both ways. I love you and you will always have our support. But your brother and sister have their dreams, too. It’s time for you to find your place in life and get to where you can support yourself. Do you understand, dear?”
Ethan closed his eyes, hating what a drain he’d been on his family. She was right, of course. Time for Ethan Winters to stand on his own two feet. Either he needed to find a way to make his musical dreams fly, or settle down and walk out a normal, yet mundane, life.
Is that what You have for me, Lord? Really?
“Yes, ma’am, I do understand. If the orchestra gig doesn’t pan out, I, um, I’ll find a real job. I promise. But- not that I don’t appreciate his help- but I can’t see myself settling for the processing plant. I’m sorry.”
“I’m praying for you, Ethan. Praying God will show you your path. Keep your eyes and heart open, okay, dear? You never know when He’ll point you in the direction you need to go. Sometimes, it’s not anything you ever imagined, but it’s always a good, solid road. Promise you’ll be open to other ideas. Other possibilities.”
“Yes, I will. Promise. Love you.”
Through the line, a loud, booming voice shouted, “Martha, do you know what that boy of yours has gone and done now?”
“Oh, dear, which boy do you suppose he’s talking about?” He heard the smile in Mom’s voice.
“Well, if he’s talked to Blake, my friend at the bank, then—”
“Sounds like I has some esplaining to do. Pray for me!” Before he could tell her to let him talk to Dad, she added, “Take care, dear, and keep me posted.”
The line went quiet, leaving him wondering once again if he’d made the right choice. Maybe he should forget the car and go home. Yet every time he thought of returning to what awaited him in Marquette, he cringed all the way down to his bones. He couldn’t. He simply couldn’t give up so easily.
“Okay, God, I’m going to listen. Here I am, blown off the road I was traveling on. Now what?”
Of course, no answer fell from Heaven. He knew better than to entertain the idea an answer would come so easily. No, he’d have to wait and see how things played out.
Doesn’t the Word say he only had today? Only this moment? Ethan couldn’t get mired down in the past and Stephen’s abandonment before their last audition. The wind had already slammed that door closed. No, he only had this moment. In a little town called Madison Creek. For now, he’d make the most of this opportunity to get to know that little gal who’d blown him off his course.
Maybe, just maybe, he could help her while waiting for God to help him.
* * * *
Two days later, Bill and Bob Benton met Ethan at the antique shop to help unload the stove from Haley’s truck.
“I’ve ordered your parts,” Bill Benton explained once they got the pot-belly inside the tea shop. “Afraid they’ll not arrive until after Thanksgiving. Hoping for Monday or Tuesday if the weather holds out.”
Ethan fol
lowed Bill back to the auto shop while Haley remained with her great-aunt to discuss the stove. Mrs. Alton’s husband watched the move with disgusted wariness. Though he didn’t seem willing to go against his wife’s wishes, he let Haley know he wasn’t pleased with her selling off the Madison treasures.
Bill was still talking as he headed for the last stall. “I’ve got the damaged panel off. Might be able to pound it out, but the suspension is shot. That’ll take some work.”
Ethan knelt beside the bare front end. “I remember how hard it was to find the right parts when I built this. You must have better connections than I did to get a replacement so quickly.”
Scratching at his blackened hat, Bill’s eyes narrowed. “You built this? Really? That means you must know your way around an engine.”
“Picked up a few things from my grandpa. He’s a mechanic and helped me build this beauty.” Even Dad had helped with making a few connections when they needed some of the harder to find parts. His dad never met a stranger. “When you’re ready to put it together, I’d love to help, if you don’t mind.”
Bill stood, tucking his hands into his back pockets. “Wouldn’t mind at all. We’ve been swamped. You interested in making extra cash on a few side jobs? People are bringing out their winter cars and needing tune-ups and oil changes like crazy.”
Ethan nodded. He wouldn’t normally drive the Camaro on winter roads, either. If he’d had made it home, he would put it up in the garage till spring and drove his rusted Honda. The salted roads weren’t kind to vehicles.
“I can do that. Would love to. When can I start?” Plus, the side job would get him out of that empty house for a while. Haley had been good about making sure there was food in the fridge. She showed up early in the mornings to make them breakfast. Last night, they’d worked together on dinner, and after he played a few tunes on his violin for her.
Otherwise, she was always on the run, though he knew the truck remained most of the day at the barn. He had no idea what she was doing with her time and hadn’t worked up the nerve to intrude on her. Yet.