Going Home (Nugget Romance 1)

by Stacy Finz

  “Bitch, bitch, bitch. Well, Maddy, between you and me, our sales have never been better. We’ve got ladies coming over from Quincy to shop here. And as much as the men complain that we’re taking up valuable tack and feed space with all the clothes, I see them picking up a little something for their wives when they make their alfalfa orders.”

  Maddy smiled at Grace. “The place is great. Lucinda’s done an amazing job. And I really do appreciate the encouragement,” she said.

  Clutching her new purchases, Maddy said goodbye to Pam and Amanda. Yeah, the shopping had been therapeutic, but not a complete antidote. It would take more than a pair of nice-fitting jeans to fix her problems.

  When she got to the duplex, Nate was waiting to take her to dinner. He and Rhys stood next to Shep’s International Harvester Scout, heads together, like they were trying to unravel the Da Vinci code. Lina sat in the driver’s seat, both hands white-knuckling the steering wheel.

  “Remember, SMOG—signal, mirror, over the shoulder, and go,” Rhys directed.

  Nate nodded his head vigorously, then trying to appear casual made a dash for higher ground—the porch steps.

  “Okay,” Rhys shouted over the Scout’s caterwauling engine. “Show us what you’ve got.”

  Lina started to pull out, hitting the gas too hard so that the tires sputtered in the driveway, kicking up clumps of dirt.

  “SMOG, SMOG.” Rhys thrashed his arms.

  Lina shut off the engine. “I already did that.”

  “You have to do it every time. Signal, mirror, over the shoulder. Then gas!” He held on to the side of the truck and seemed to be praying for patience.

  Shep and Sam came onto the porch and joined Nate on the steps. Maddy walked over to where they were standing.

  “How long has this been going on?” Maddy asked. Only an hour ago, Rhys had been at the feedstore.

  “Not long,” Nate said, glancing down at his watch. “You missed the part where she almost backed into the trailer.”

  Maddy visually measured the distance from the driveway to the new car pad. “It’s a little tight for a driver’s ed course. Shouldn’t they be doing this in an empty parking lot with Rhys in the truck?” Maddy’s father had taught her in the Dorn True Value lot after hours. They’d driven in circles so many times that both of them had gotten dizzy.

  Nate shrugged. Rhys continued to bark commands at Lina, who looked about ready to give up and cry.

  “Let’s practice your U-turn,” Rhys said.

  Lina jerked the truck forward, accelerating too hard, and then overcompensated by slamming on the brake. Rhys raised his face to the sky in frustration and told her to take a breather. Just as they were about to start all over again, Maddy wedged her way in between Rhys and the truck.

  “Hey, Lina,” she said, opening the driver’s door. “Why don’t you scoot over into the passenger seat.”

  “What are you doing?” Rhys demanded, sliding his aviators down his nose so he could glare at her over the rims, his face strained.

  “Taking her to Sierra Heights, where we can do this right.” Before Rhys could protest she jumped up into the seat and restarted the engine.

  “Can we come?” Sam yelled down from the porch.

  “Get in,” she said.

  Both he and Shep hopped into the backseat and they drove off, leaving the big, bad ruffled police chief in Maddy’s rearview, scratching his head.

  The whole way to Sierra Heights, Maddy demonstrated to Lina how to check her mirrors, change lanes, adjust speed. She explained about defensive driving. When they got to the empty development, Maddy headed for the clubhouse parking lot.

  “Ready to do this?”

  Lina nodded nervously and switched seats with Maddy. They circled the lot about five times, very slowly at first, so Lina could test the weight of her foot on the gas pedal and experiment with the brake. Then she sped up, feeling slightly more at ease controlling the vehicle.

  Just when Lina started getting the hang of it, Nate and Rhys pulled up in Nate’s Jag. Lina stopped the Scout, activated the emergency brake the way Maddy had taught her, and shouted out the window with glee, “I can drive.”

  “Yeah?” Rhys’s smile spread so wide that Maddy nearly melted into a puddle right there in the truck. He opened Maddy’s door, lifted her out of the passenger seat and took her place. “Let me see how you do.”

  Lina practiced with Rhys some more in the parking lot, Shep and Sam in the backseat, pretending to hang on for dear life. Maddy took her brother on a quick tour of the Heights—that’s what Nate had taken to calling it.

  “Wasn’t that the name of a really bad TV show?”

  “Probably,” Nate said. “I should buy this place, turn it into a timeshare.”

  They’d probably go bankrupt on the Lumber Baron, but her numbskull brother wanted to turn a deserted subdivision into a timeshare. When they got back to the Jaguar, Lina was ready to call her driver’s lesson quits and Maddy and Nate were ready to go to dinner.

  As they drove away in separate vehicles, Nate asked, “Who do you think will teach Sophie and Mariah’s kid how to drive?”

  “One of them, I suppose.”

  Nate hooted with laughter. “You ever ride with either one of those two women? Scary!”

  “Maybe you could pitch in with that,” she said, and slid her brother a glance.

  “I offered.”

  “You did?” She looked at him to make sure they were both talking about the same thing. They were.

  “Soph declined.”

  “Really,” Maddy said. “I’m surprised to hear that. It seemed to me it was what Sophie wanted.”

  Nate lifted his shoulders. “Something’s up with them, Mad. And I don’t want to get in the middle of it.”

  Rhys sat in the Sacramento waiting room of the geriatrician’s office trying to read the latest issue of Outside, but couldn’t focus. Shep was here for a routine checkup, but he’d dragged Lina along for a reality check.

  Despite her stubborn demand to continue Shep’s care, she needed to know what she’d be up against. As thin as Shep had gotten, he was still too big for Lina. And given the personal nature of his care, Rhys thought a man would be more appropriate.

  “Mr. Shepard, the doctor will see you and your sister now.” The nurse stood in the doorway, waiting for Rhys to follow her back to a cheery office cluttered with family photos and framed certificates. He took a seat in one of the two upholstered chairs facing the doctor’s desk, and Lina took the other.

  “Where’s my dad?” Rhys asked the nurse.

  “One of the assistants is helping him get dressed,” she said. “Dr. Singh thought it would be good for the three of you to have a few minutes alone.”

  “Hello, Mr. Shepard, Miss Shepard.” Dr. Singh brushed into the room, looking well-scrubbed in a navy blue pantsuit.

  Rhys stood up, shook her hand, and waited for her to sit before taking his chair again. “He’s getting worse, isn’t he?”

  She nodded. “The disease is progressing, Mr. Shepard. Although his symptoms may continue to come and go intermittently, as his brain degenerates, his faculties will start to decline.”

  Rhys kept his eyes locked on the back wall where a poster hung of an elderly couple sitting in a cornfield. Something about the starkness of the image resonated with him. He exhaled. “How long?”

  “Stages of Alzheimer’s often overlap, so it’s difficult to say for sure.” She modulated her voice in what Rhys assumed was meant to be soothing. “During his visit today your father seemed clearheaded. But given the problems you’ve described—his trouble distinguishing familiar faces, his behavioral changes, and his inability to complete easy tasks—I’d say he’s experiencing severe cognitive decline.”

  Rhys’s eyes flicked from the poster to the doctor. “What does that mean?”

  “In my opinion, he’s likely entering the later stages of Alzheimer’s.”

  He’d already deduced that. What he wanted, what he drove nea
rly three hours for was so that Lina could hear it. “Is there anything to slow it down?”

  “I can prescribe Razadyne and Namenda to help lessen your father’s memory loss and his confusion. But it would only be temporary. I’m afraid there is no cure for Alzheimer’s, Mr. Shepard.”

  Rhys knew there was no cure, but he’d hoped—for Lina and Sam’s sake—there was something that could give Shep a little more time. “Can we still keep him at home?” Without even looking, he could feel Lina tense.

  “Temporarily, yes. But eventually, he’ll require intensive round-the-clock care. At that point you’ll want to consider a residential facility.” She reached into her bottom desk drawer and handed Rhys a packet of pamphlets. “I know that you’ve had some time to prepare for this. But it’s still a lot to digest.”

  “Lina,” Rhys said. “Do you have any questions for Dr. Singh?” He needed her to understand what they were in for.

  “No,” she said, her voice breaking.

  The doctor scribbled on a prescription pad, ripped off the slip, and handed it to him. “Let me get your father.”

  On the drive home, somewhere between Lincoln and Auburn, Shep casually announced, “So, I’m losing my marbles?”

  “Yep.” Rhys kept his eyes on the road.

  “You putting me in a home?”

  “No, Papa.”

  “Good girl,” Shep said and Rhys wanted to kill the self-centered bastard. “You gonna marry Martha?”

  “You mean Maddy?”

  “Yeah, Maddy,” Shep said.

  “You got your seat belt on?” Rhys did a quick check. “Why the hell did you take it off ?”

  “The damn thing strangles me.”

  “Well, put it back on. Haven’t you seen the signs? ‘Click it or ticket.’ ”

  Shep struggled with the belt for a few seconds and finally got it fastened. “I like her, Rhys. She’s good for you.”

  No. The woman was not good for him. Every time he thought about her in those ass-hugging jeans at the Nugget Feed Store he got a painful hard-on. But mostly it was the way she’d inserted herself into his life that was wreaking havoc on his head. Teaching Lina to drive. Helping with Shep. Offering endless advice.

  He’d been taking care of himself since he was old enough to walk. Since his mother had left. And he’d learned the hard way that it never paid to become reliant on anyone else. Especially not Maddy. Because she was so filled with life and kindness that he’d lose himself in her.

  “We’ve been over this before,” Rhys said. “She’s married.”

  “Bah!” Shep blurted.

  Rhys narrowed his eyes. “Mind your own business, old man.”

  “I think she likes you.” Lina surprised him by chiming in. Usually, she gave him a wide berth.

  “Well, maybe I’ll send her a note at recess and find out,” Rhys said, and Lina poked him through the back of his seat.

  “I can’t imagine why she would like a pendejo like you. But there is no accounting for taste.”

  “A jerk? You think I’m a jerk?” He watched her in his rearview mirror while grabbing his heart. “That really hurts my feelings, Lina.”

  She giggled, reminding Rhys that the very capable young woman sitting behind him was still a teenager. Wrapped up in his own problems, he’d sort of taken for granted all the tasks—cleaning, laundry, cooking—she did around the house, including caring for Shep. She was too young to have so many responsibilities.

  They drove the next hour in silence, Rhys lost in the quandary of what to do with his three wards come April. He could send Lina to college in the fall and she could live on campus. A girl with her smarts should have every opportunity. Sam was the real dilemma. Worse came to worst, he’d take the kid with him to Houston. Not optimal. But what choice did he have?

  For Shep, it was just a matter of finding the right assisted-care facility. Despite Lina’s argument to the contrary, it was the practical and prudent way to go.

  “You okay back there?” Rhys took another glance in the rearview and saw Lina playing Angry Birds on her phone.

  “Yes. Is Papa asleep?”

  Rhys looked over at Shep. “Yeah.” Nowadays he was always asleep. And in a few months, he wouldn’t know a nursing home from his apartment.

  Chapter 15

  Maddy crossed the square from her office to the sporting goods store. It wouldn’t hurt to do a little lobbying, maybe buy a big-ticket item to butter up Carl Rudd, the owner. With only a few days until Christmas, last-minute shoppers jammed the store. Lots of snowshoes, skies, and sleds moving.

  “Hey, Maddy,” Carl greeted her with a big smile. The nice thing about the “Flush the Lumber Baron” campaign is that it had elevated her status in the town from nonentity to everyone’s favorite antichrist.

  “Carl, I’m thinking of getting a bike. What would you recommend for around here?”

  “That depends. You want it for mountain biking, for road, or a little of both?”

  “I want it so that when I pedal it, it goes,” Maddy said, and Carl chuckled.

  “Not much of a cyclist, huh?”

  “What gave it away? But, seriously, I thought in summer, when the inn’s full of guests, they’ll be needing lots and lots of sporting equipment. And since I’ll be sending them over here, I really should set a good example by being a little more athletic. Don’t you think?”

  “Ah, Maddy, all that charm won’t keep my toilets from overflowing.” He draped his arm over her shoulder good-naturedly and directed her to the bicycle aisle. “I think a gently used street bike is your best bet.” Carl turned to one of the sales boys. “Chris, you mind helping Maddy here?”

  Chris trotted over and Carl pointed out a few bikes for him to show her. “You’re in good hands.”

  “Hey Carl, do you really believe that our tiny inn’s enough to overtax Nugget’s entire waste system?” Maddy folded her arms over her chest.

  “What I think, is that system is old. And if it means blocking new businesses to finally get the city to fix it, then I’m all for it.”

  “So, you’d put us out on the street just to make a political statement?”

  “Oh, Maddy, when you say it that way, it sounds so harsh.”

  She plastered on a saccharine smile and flipped him the bird. Then she bought a beach cruiser.

  When Maddy got home, she found Rhys tugging a couple of shopping bags out of his truck.

  “Need help with that?” she asked as she popped her wagon’s liftgate.

  “Nah, I’ve got it. What do you have back there?” He stopped to look inside her Subaru and admired her bike.

  “I bought it on impulse,” she volunteered.

  Rhys put his bags down on the tailgate of his truck and pulled out the bicycle. “Nice,” he said about the white wicker basket, and smirked.

  “I like it.” She planted her hands on her hips. “And that’s what counts.”

  He tried to wiggle the basket, but it fit snugly. “Girly. But utilitarian.”

  “That’s me.”

  He let his eyes drift over her in a way that made Maddy feel warm all over, even though it was about eighteen degrees out.

  “Would you mind if I stored it in the shed?” she asked him.

  “Not at all.” He wheeled it over to the detached garage and gave the door a forceful pull. “We don’t usually keep it locked, but I’ll get a padlock at the hardware store tomorrow and give you a key.”

  “I can get it,” she said. “I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

  “No trouble.” He went back to wedging the bike in between a couple of ancient power tools.

  Maddy looked over at his collection of Target bags. “Been doing a little Christmas shopping, eh?”

  “Yep. Went to Reno.” He came out of the garage and pulled the door back down.

  “What you get?” Apparently, Grinch Boy had changed his stance on not celebrating Christmas.

  He shrugged, “Just a few things for Lina and Sam. I took to hear
t what you said about this being their first holiday without their mother. I got something for Clay’s kids, too.”

  “Ah, that’s so nice. What did you get your dad?”

  “Nothing.” He stuck his hands into his pants pockets. His nose was red and Maddy could see his breath.

  “Nothing?”

  “We don’t get each other presents.”

  “Not even when you were a kid?”

  “Nope.”

  “Seriously? You didn’t get anything?”

  “It’s no big deal, Maddy.” He turned away from her and walked toward his truck where he’d left the bags.

  Well, she’d gotten Rhys something—whether he wanted it or not.

  “It’s cold,” he said, lugging his packages to the stairs. “You should get inside before you get sick.”

  She started toward the door when Rhys stopped her. “You going to France?”

  “Huh?”

  “With Dave?”

  “Of course not. I told you I wasn’t going.” Why the hell would she go anywhere with Dave?

  “How come?”

  “Uh, let’s see: Because my ex is a man whore, who I’m in the midst of divorcing. Why in the world would you even need to ask?”

  Rhys shrugged. “I figured you’d want to try to work things out with him.”

  “Well, you figured wrong.”

  “What are you doing for Christmas, then? Because you’re welcome to come with us to the McCreedys’.”

  “I’ve been invited to Sophie and Mariah’s, but thank you.”

  “Yep,” he said, carrying his bags to the fifth wheel. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

  “Rhys,” she called. “You want to get together after you get back from Clay’s?”

  “Uh . . . Sure.”

  “Great.” Maddy opened her door. “We can have a drink.” Or whatever.

  She told herself that they may as well enjoy each other’s company until he went back to Houston. But if she really wanted to be honest with herself she was crushing on him hard, and the prospect of him moving away made her want to vomit.