by Leona Karr
“What is it?” he asked, looking puzzled. “You’re watching me as if you’re about to show me the door. Have I overstepped myself in some way? I’m sorry if I’ve ignored some feminine prerogative.”
“No, it’s not that,” she hastened to assure him. “I appreciate your bringing food and bedding. It’s just that I’m a little surprised. You didn’t even have to come back tonight.”
“That’s true.” He raised a questioning eyebrow. “Are you worried about sharing a sleeping bag? If you’ll notice, I brought two.”
She smiled because her concerns ran in a completely different direction. It certainly wasn’t her virtue she was worried about. He hadn’t given her cause to think he even regarded her as a temptation. Obviously, Marci was more than enough woman to keep him satisfied. No, it was the feeling that she was being used to carry out his vendetta that worried her. Sometimes the look in his eyes hinted at an explosive fury that threatened to destroy him.
“I’d planned on checking out one of the nearby rooms tomorrow, but I can move in tonight if—”
“No, please stay.” She could sort out his motives later. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“Well, that’s not surprising,” he assured her. “This big, empty building is bound to have plenty of creaking and groaning, especially in a storm. It takes a while to get used to different noises.”
She almost said something about the chandelier. Only the embarrassment of having him dismiss the whole thing as feminine hysterics kept her quiet. More than anything, she wanted to prove to him—and herself—that she could handle whatever happened in a calm, unemotional way.
“How’d you spend the afternoon?” he asked as he searched her face. Her blue eyes took on a different glint when she was worried or lost in thought. He wondered what she was holding back. Had something happened while he was gone?
“I took a long nap.” She smiled and changed the subject. “How did your grandfather react to your new job?” Had Josh told him where he would be working and risked the old man’s violent reaction, like a match touched to an emotional explosive?
“I told him I’d taken a temporary job in Timberlane until we were back in business again,” Josh replied, answering her unspoken question. “No use getting him all riled up. Our widowed neighbor, Mrs. Crabtree, stays with Gramps when I have to be gone, and her teenage son Billy handles the chores and looks after the horse.”
“How long do you think the renovations will take?”
“Hard to tell. Depends on the plans your uncle left. Once I look at those, I should be able to tell.”
“The lawyer said my uncle’s drawings and instructions were in his hotel desk.”
“We’ll check the office tomorrow.” His eyes narrowed. “No telling what we may find.”
From his expression, Stacy knew he wasn’t just thinking about renovation plans. Josh was after information about Malo Renquist, anything that would help track him down. What he found, and how soon, would probably decide how long Josh would stay on the job.
“I guess we can’t do much until we find out what Uncle Willard’s plans were.”
“I’ll see about getting a work crew together tomorrow,” he said. “What about the expenses for material and labor? I’ll need to know what kind of a budget I’m on.”
“The amount my uncle specified for the renovation seemed exorbitant to me, but after seeing the condition of the hotel, I wonder if it will be enough.”
“I just don’t understand why he wanted you living on the premises until the work is finished?”
“I don’t know, but, unfortunately, his will is quite clear. Either I fulfill all of the requirements or I forfeit my inheritance.”
“Well, then, I guess we’d better put spurs to the project and get it done.” He could tell her nerves were strung as tight as those of a filly trapped in a new corral. The expression he’d seen on her face when she opened the door showed that she was already uncomfortable about staying here. The terrifying experience of nearly driving her car into the river hadn’t helped. Every time there was a clap of thunder she cringed. Fortunately, it was a fast-moving storm, lacking the fury of the night before. They opened a can of soup for dinner, and Josh ate his lunch sandwich. After the late meal, Stacy quickly washed up the few dishes to prove that she wasn’t expecting to be waited on.
“I don’t mind sleeping on the couch,” she told him. “You’re the one who needs a good night’s sleep for work tomorrow.”
“I’m used to bedding down anywhere,” he assured her, and added pointedly, “And I’m a light sleeper. Don’t hesitate to call.”
“I think the storm’s about over,” she said hopefully, as she took one of the sleeping bags he handed her.
He watched her as she walked slowly toward the bedroom and hesitated in the doorway. The way she looked around before she took a step into the room spoke volumes. Something had spooked her. Maybe the storm? Or maybe just the creepy emptiness of the hotel? He felt a rush of resentment against the eccentric uncle who had forced his niece to live here in order to inherit the money he’d left her. The whole building gave off bad vibes. He could tell that even in this short time the place had taken its toll on her.
When he heard squeaky bedsprings signal that she’d crawled into the sleeping bag on the bed, he walked to the bedroom door, and pushed it slightly ajar.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
A small light sitting on a bedstand illuminated her sweet smile. “Yes, thank you. Nice and cozy.”
A sudden rush of protective feelings took him by surprise. For one ridiculous moment he entertained the idea of laying out his sleeping bag on the floor beside her bed. The impulse quickly faded when he imagined her reaction.
“See you in the morning,” he said gruffly and settled himself on the couch before he could make a damn fool of himself.
THE NEXT DAY STARTED OUT well. They decided to drive into Timberlane and have breakfast at Alice’s Pantry. After an uneventful night and hours of renewing sleep, Stacy was hungry, and excited about Josh’s plans to get things underway as quickly as possible.
“Well now, you two are looking bright and cheerful.” Ted greeted them with a knowing look. “You must have gotten settled in all right. The storm didn’t bother you none?”
“We slept right through it,” Josh answered with a boldness that brought a rush of color to Stacy’s cheeks.
Ted chuckled. “Probably plumb tuckered out—from everything.”
Silently cursing Josh for his inappropriate remark, Stacy slid into an empty booth and avoided looking directly at Ted or anyone else in the café. Undoubtedly, anything she said would be considered an admission of guilt. All she needed now was Marci stomping in with nostrils flaring because a city woman was after her man.
Josh seemed oblivious to his thoughtless remark, and Stacy decided to let it go. What did it matter anyway? He was the local boy—if he didn’t care what people might be saying, why should she?
They both ordered the Breakfast Bonanza. Stacy knew she’d made a mistake when a large platter of pancakes, sausage, eggs, and hash browns was set in front of her. More breakfast than she usually ate in a week.
“You said you were hungry,” Josh reminded her, chuckling at her expression. “Better eat up. We’ve only got one can of soup left.”
As she laughed, a sparkle came into her eyes and the tension of the last two days eased from her face.
Tendrils of dark hair accented the creamy softness of her complexion. As if he were seeing her for the first time, Josh was aware of the tempting curves of her soft lips, and he was attracted to her in a way he hadn’t been before. His well-guarded no-trespassing emotions were suddenly threatened, and in a quick defensive maneuver, he centered the conversation on serious matters concerning the challenges of carrying out her uncle’s will.
“What about your expenses?” he asked, frowning. “Are you on your own until you satisfy the terms of your inheritance?”
“No, thank h
eavens. My uncle’s will provides a designated monthly amount for living expenses. Now that I have an idea of what I need, I’ll do some shopping this morning and stock up on groceries and other necessities like sheets and pillows.”
“All right, let’s meet back here before noon. That’ll give me time to check around and see if there are any capable men looking for a carpenter’s job.”
They were about finished with their meal when Ted slipped into their booth.
“Just the man I need to see,” Josh said.
“What’s up?”
“I need to hire some workmen.”
Ted shook his head. “Any guy who’s heard about that place isn’t going to have anything to do with it,” he warned Josh. “Weird Willy never could make up his mind from one day to the next what he wanted done. Chester and Rob were the only ones who would stick it out, and they’re more trouble than they’re worth. I’d stay clear of hiring them if I were you.”
“I’m not sure I can,” Josh said, sending Stacy a look that reminded her she’d already promised them a job. “I’m kind of committed to give them work.”
Ted shrugged. “I guess poor help is better than no help at all. I sure as hell wouldn’t want the job.” He sent Stacy an apologetic look.
“Well, we’ll see what happens,” Josh said evenly, trying to stay positive for Stacy’s sake.
“Sure, that’s the best thing to do,” he agreed.
Then the two men chatted a few minutes about local issues until Ted said he’d better be getting back to work before Alice had him by the ear.
He gave Stacy a friendly smile. “Let us know if we can help you out in any way. We’re mighty fond of this fellow. We’ve always tried to be there for him and Glenda.” He gave Josh a friendly swipe on his arm. “Take care, boy.”
Stacy was certain Ted would have fired a volley of personal questions at Josh about his sudden decision to work at the hotel if she hadn’t been there.
When they had finished their coffee, they left the café, and walked about a block to Timberlane’s General Store. The square-shaped rock building had two large front display windows crammed with merchandise of every kind: clothes, hardware, foodstuffs and sundry household objects. Exposing as many items as possible seemed to be the objective. Shopping suddenly felt alien. She was used to stores in L.A. with artfully designed windows to entice the buyer.
“You won’t find the selection or prices you’re used to, but it’s all we’ve got,” he warned as if he were reading her thoughts.
“I’m sure I’ll find everything I need,” she assured him with more confidence than she felt.
“Have them sack your purchases and we’ll pick them up later when we’re ready to leave town. I may be a couple of hours.”
“That’s all right,” she said. “I’ll find something to do while I wait.”
“Try not to get lost,” he warned with mock solemnity.
“If I do, I’ll just get out in the middle of the street and holler.”
He chuckled. “You do that, and you’ll get run over by all the men stampeding in your direction.”
The teasing remark was as close to a compliment as he’d ever given her, and there was a foolish spring in her step as she went into the store.
The interior of the general store was as challenging and crowded as the front window display. As far as Stacy could tell the grocery section took up one half of the building, and everything else was crowded into the other half.
She didn’t see any shopping carts, but there was a stack of plastic hand baskets placed near the front door. She picked up one and made her way around long tables and counters loaded with dry goods, housewares, sports and automotive merchandise, as well as collections of everything from toys to fertilizers.
She passed a few customers in the store, but no one paid much attention to her, not even the two gray-haired women clerks who were busy piling more merchandise on the already loaded displays. When Stacy’s basket was full, she made her way to the cashier’s counter at the front.
A fortyish, narrow-faced man whose pallid complexion verified he didn’t spend much time outdoors greeted her pleasantly, “Mornin’. Is this all for you today?”
“I’ll want to buy some groceries in the other section. Should I wait to check out then?”
He brushed back a strand of thinning brown hair as he nodded. “I’ll just keep this basket here for you until you’re ready.”
Stacy hesitated, not knowing quite how to explain the situation. “Josh Spencer will be picking up my purchases later, and I’d like to leave them here until then, if that’s all right?”
“Sure ’nough.” His expression changed from politeness to open interest. “Say, you’re not the one taking over Haverly Hotel…” He left the question in the air.
She nodded.
“Willard’s niece? Well, I’ll be.” A prominent Adam’s apple bobbed in his neck, and he held out a thin hand. “I’m Abe Jenkins. Sorry about your uncle. He was a nice fellow, but kinda strange. Didn’t look at life the same way as the rest of us, I guess.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jenkins,” Stacy said sincerely. He was the first one that had said anything nice about her uncle. “I’m Stacy Ashford. Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise. I wasn’t surprised when Willy had a heart attack,” Jeb said, frankly. “He wasn’t a big man. The few times I made deliveries, your uncle was trying to do stuff that was physically beyond him. Once I helped him move some things around, but none of it made much sense to me.”
“Most of his life, he didn’t make much sense to anyone, I guess,” she admitted. “I never really knew him.”
Abe shook his head. “He certainly marched to a different drummer, I’ll give you that. What are you going to do to the place?”
“Try to carry out his wishes.” If we can figure out what they are, she added silently. “Well, I guess I’d better finish my shopping.”
“You bet. If you can’t find what you want, just ask.”
Stacy discovered that shopping for food wasn’t going to be much of a challenge. The choices were limited; only a few different brands; mainly just basic staples. Even at that, she managed to spend double what she’d planned. Josh had certainly been right about the prices. With no competition, the General Store could pretty much charge what it wanted.
She carried her full basket back to Abe Jenkins at the cashier’s station, and he was checking her out when she heard an intake of breath behind her.
“Well, if it isn’t Miss California.” Marci gave Stacy’s slim, hip-hugging white slacks and clinging pink silk blouse the once-over. “My, you’d think that Sunset Boulevard was a block away.”
“Good morning.” Stacy returned her steady gaze. Marci was wearing faded jeans, a western-style shirt with fringe, and an obviously new pair of boots. “Are you out for a morning horseback ride or is the rodeo in town?”
“It’s easy to see who belongs around here,” Marci snapped. “And who’s just passing through.”
“Don’t count on it,” Stacy heard herself say.
“We’ll, see about that.” Marci brushed by Stacy and disappeared into the grocery section.
Abe covered a smile with his hand, and Stacy was upset with herself for stooping to Marci’s level of spite. It wasn’t as if she was jealous of the woman or anything. “Josh said he’d pick up the groceries after lunch,” Stacy told the storekeeper. “Tell him that if I’ve missed anything he’d like, just add it to the order.”
“Sure enough. I’ll do that.” He let out the chuckle he’d obviously been holding back. “And welcome.”
Stacy left the store, feeling she’d made a friend in Abe Jenkins as well as an enemy in Marci. There was very little traffic in the street, and the gas station and lumberyard seemed to be doing the most business as she walked down the two blocks called Main Street. Feeling at loose ends, she decided to head back to the Pantry.
Alice was standing in front of the café, leaning on a broom and breathing in the
fresh air. When she saw Stacy, Alice grinned sheepishly. “Any excuse to take a break. It’s our slow time between breakfast and lunch. What are you up to?”
“I finished my shopping, and I’m waiting for Josh to get through with his errands.”
“Good. Why don’t we go upstairs and sit a spell? I’ve been wanting to talk with you.” She motioned toward an outside door at the side of the building. “We can go up this way to our apartment.”
Alice led the way up a flight of narrow stairs and as she opened a door at the top, she announced in a slightly apologetic tone, “This is our home sweet home.”
She motioned Stacy into a large living room that had two large windows overlooking the street. Modest, comfortable-looking furniture blended with a green carpet dotted with colorful handmade rag rugs. Indoor plants, a variety of pictures, and numerous knickknacks added to the unsophisticated, homey atmosphere. Everything was sparkling clean, and Stacy knew that Alice had her hands full, running a restaurant in addition to being a housewife.
“Would you like coffee, tea or something?”
“No,” Stacy said quickly, not wanting the woman to be serving her on her break.
“Have a seat, then,” Alice motioned Stacy toward a couch upholstered in bold yellow flowers and accented with needlepoint cushions. Then she plopped down in a nearby easy chair and made use of a padded footstool. “It’s good to get off my feet.”
“Have you had the restaurant a long time?” Stacy asked, trying to find a general topic of conversation.
“Ted had it a few years before he married me. That was ten years ago. We met in Pineville, the county seat. I came from a small farming town, so marrying him and moving to this wide spot in the road wasn’t much different.” She frankly eyed Stacy. “I suspect Timberlane is not your cup of tea.”
“Well, I think it would take a lot of getting used to,” Stacy answered, not about to lie.
Alice leaned forward. “That’s what I want to talk with you about,” she said solemnly. “I don’t want to see Josh get hurt. He’s had enough of that in his life. He doesn’t need to be set up for another heartache. You shouldn’t be taking advantage of him the way you are.”
