“Ha!” Greg shook his hand hard. He turned to leave abruptly, calling out, “Sorry for the interruption. Good review means it’s on the house, buddy!”
Jack and Livy laughed.
“So, where were we?” Jack went for another bite.
“You asked how I got here.” Livy looked at her hands, turning over the spoon she’d used to stir her coffee.
Jack’s breath caught as her bright eyes, a little dimmer as her laugh faded, met his gaze. Was she unsure how to proceed? “Listen, let’s make a deal.” Jack wanted her to feel safe with him. “I’ve got a little more than half an hour until the store opens. We’ll only need a few minutes to go over my list, so you give me a quick version of your story, and I’ll give you a quick version of mine. We all have a story, right?”
“That sounds fair.” A strand of dark, lustrous hair danced across her face as an overhead vent kicked on. Jack’s urge to reach over and tuck it behind her ear surprised him. “To spare you a lot of boring details, the short version of my story goes like this: I moved from my parents’ small-town farm to pursue a career as an artist—a painter—in New York City. I soon met a guy who swept me off my young, naive feet. Things were great for a while.” She paused and took in a deep breath. “Until they weren’t. The few paintings I had time to do in between real jobs weren’t selling. Sam wasn’t supportive at all. He thought painting was a silly hobby. It took several years of his constant undermining, but I eventually began to realize he didn’t love me. Not in the way I think love should be, anyway. I started to wonder if he even liked me.” She fixed her eyes out the window, probably on nothing particular. “I had become pretty dependent on what he thought of me, so the little pokes and jabs were real blows to my ego. It sounds cliché, but I lost myself. I don’t know where I found the courage, but I finally told him we were over.”
A large delivery truck pulled up across the street and Livy turned back to look Jack in the eye. How could someone treat her—anyone—like that? No wonder she was sometimes more reserved. She was recovering. Like those long months after his divorce when he trusted no one. Maybe she’d learn to trust him.
“The morning after Sam left, I picked up a paper my mom had sent me from North Carolina, found the house for sale—much to my surprise—and decided to buy the place. Just like that. I guess you could say I came here hoping God was trying to tell me to look for myself in a place with some of the happiest memories I can recall.” She searched Jack’s eyes. “So, here I am.”
“Is Sam the guy in the picture?” Jack nodded toward the counter telling he’d overheard the exchange with Meredith.
“Yes. I didn’t know that was still in there.”
“I’m sorry you’ve been through that. I think you’re extremely brave coming all the way here. Seems to me you haven’t lost yourself as much as you think you have.”
Yes, this indeed explained some of Livy’s hesitation at the house yesterday. And he could relate. The hurt of a breakup was fresh in his memory, too.
“Thank you for saying that, Jack.” She tucked the wisp of hair behind her ear. “Truth is, I came here with the intention of throwing myself into the house as a way to hide. In my mind, I never considered that I’d meet people, new friends…old friends. Isn’t that silly?” She smiled at Jack. Another long pause hung over the table. Livy’s sparking eyes held his for a lingering moment, then continued. “Okay, spill it, mister. Fair’s fair. What’s your story?”
Jack released a chuckle at her obvious relief at being finished. Since everyone in Laurel Cove somehow knew his business, as small towns tended to be, actually getting to tell his story was a rare opportunity. He pushed his plate away and leaned across the edge of the table. He looked down at his hands and his bare ring finger.
“My ex-wife Claire and I dated in high school, your typical football quarterback and cheerleader couple. I went off to State and she stayed here to attend the community college a few towns over, so we headed separate directions. Several years later, my dad got sick and I needed to come home, which I think I mentioned yesterday. Claire was newly divorced, and not long after being back in town, we began seeing each other again. After Dad died, Claire was there for me when I needed someone. I loved her for it. We were married a few short months later.” Livy listened with a few fingers curled up around her mouth, resting on one elbow.
“As kind as she was during that time, Claire was always a little wild.” An all too familiar anxiety twisted into a knot inside him. “She wanted to go out every weekend to Boone or Asheville and really live it up. I just looked forward to settling down in the evenings in front of the fire. She complained a lot about how busy I was at the store or working on houses. Maybe I was too busy.” Jack rubbed at the scruff on his cheek. “So, I found myself missing my dad terribly and in a marriage not at all like what I had expected. When Claire and I weren’t fighting, things were pretty good. Our families got along. We joined a bowling league together. Then one day”—he looked down at his hands—“I ran home to grab some paperwork I’d forgotten that morning and saw a silver pickup parked behind Claire’s car in the driveway. I went in and found her in bed with some guy.”
“Oh, Jack.” Livy’s hand went to her mouth as her eyes closed.
“Yeah. So, that was that. She wouldn’t even talk to me about it. Before we were married even six months, it was over. Our divorce was final about a year ago.” Looking across the table at Livy, Jack was amazed how easy it was to tell her what he’d been through. It would never be an easy time to recall, but the hurt had receded. “It’s in the past and I’ve finally come out of it—thanks to the help of great friends like those two.” He nodded toward Greg and Meredith, who were tending to a few customers. “And that’s my story.”
A comfortable silence joined them like a welcomed third person at the table. Livy offered him a tender smile full of compassion, not pity. Talking to her was not burdensome or awkward or forced like it often was with meddling townspeople. No, they were two broken hearts speaking the same language. Jack inched his hand across the table but stopped short of touching her slender fingers. Be patient. The friendship forming here needed time—like a concrete foundation setting up to be a formidable structure. If he’d wait and trust, something told Jack a relationship with Livy had the potential to be pure and strong and real. He pulled his hand back to his lap and let the tender grin stretch into a full-blown smile.
***
Jack and Livy spent the rest of their breakfast reviewing the list of projects. They ordered them by importance and practicality, also creating a list of materials she would need to purchase. Jack offered to bring tools from his house for big projects, but also suggested several essential tools she should purchase. Once they finished the last of their coffee, with the lists in hand, Livy followed Jack to Bowdon’s Supplies.
The first time Jack took Livy to the store, she must’ve been more distracted. She hadn’t really seen the quaint character of the old corner store before. The double wooden front door let out a weathered creak as Jack pushed it open and moved two bricks with his boot to hold them in place. Livy ran her fingers over the hand-painted yellow letters spelling Bowdon’s on the glass door. Bags of potting soil and grass seed lined the front window overlooking the street. Her lungs filled with the musky smell of leather and lumber.
Jack was several paces ahead of her heading toward the check out counter. “The smell reminds me of my father’s work shed.” Her voice echoed through the quiet store as she called out to him. She dipped her hand into a bucket full of sunflower seeds sitting on an old potting table near the front window. Something cold and wet grazed the back of her free hand, and she jumped.
“Well, hello there. You must be Rex.” She knelt to rub the neck of a black Labrador who seemed to be smiling at her, tail wagging fast.
“We’ve put him in charge of the welcoming committee since Watch Dog didn’t seem to fit.” Jack came to Livy’s side with a clipboard, patting Rex on the head.
“Oh, I think he’s so sweet, Jack.”
“Yeah, he’s sweet, all right. A regular ladies’ man.” As if on command, Rex leapt forward to lick Livy’s chin, both front paws landing hard on her chest. Jack caught the back of her arm, pulling her to her feet before she fell backwards. Her hand instinctively landed on his opposite shoulder, and for a moment, they were separated by only an inch. He smelled of fresh laundry. His arm was strong under the soft, red flannel as her hand followed it down to his elbow before falling back to her side. She looked up and studied his face. His cheeks and chin were rugged with a few days’ growth and his dark eyes were stranded with gold running through them like lightning as he looked at her. My goodness, he’s handsome.
Rex excitedly stepped between them, breaking the moment.
“Uh, thanks. I’m so clumsy.”
“No worries.” Jack’s warm smile heated her cheeks. “Do you mind flipping the sign over to Open?” He nodded past her shoulder to the front door.
“Oh, sure.” She used the few steps back toward the door to compose herself.
Livy then followed Jack with a shopping cart up and down the aisles, list in hand.
“What do you think you’ll start with?” Jack spoke over his shoulder, approaching a display of work gloves.
“I figure it’ll be good for my morale to begin with a project I can see progress on by the end of the day.” Livy eyed pairs of gray and yellow women’s gloves Jack held up before taking the gray ones and tossing them in the cart. “I think I can make some real headway clearing out the kitchen. Or I may just start moving everything out of the way so we can get down to the bare rooms and really know what we’re dealing with.”
Jack hummed something, but she didn’t think he was aware he was doing it. The words of “Stand By Me” by Ben E. King softly filled the store. She hadn’t noticed the sounds of the radio coming from near the register until now.
“Sounds like a plan. But makes me think—” Jack’s eyes widened as if an idea had struck. “I know a guy who rents large trash containers that he’ll drop at construction sites for all the demolition and trash. I bet that’d be a great thing to have on site. You’ll surely fill at least one.”
“Great thinking.” She would be lost without Jack’s help.
“Awesome. I’ll call and see if he can deliver one today. We’re about done here.” He set a heavy-duty rectangular broom on top of the stash that was now swelling in the cart. They made their way to the register as Jack sang under his breath the words of the popular chorus.
Livy couldn’t ignore the heavy beating inside her chest. His deep, smooth voice was soothing and charming. Jack stopped singing and let a loud laugh escape when his eyes met hers. “Well, that’s embarrassing! I sing to myself when the store’s quiet and I can hear the radio. Guess I don’t know when I’m doing it anymore. Don’t mind me.”
She joined his laughter. “Don’t be embarrassed. You have a nice voice.”
At the register, he plugged in the scanner they’d been using, and the total appeared in a matter of seconds.
“That’s pretty impressive technology for a small-town business.”
“Small-town charm with big-city conveniences, ma’am.” Winking, Jack replied in a playful countrified accent. They both laughed. “Total comes to $285.65.”
“Well, here we go. The project is officially underway.” Livy handed him her credit card. Thanks for that inheritance, Gram. The inheritance, paired with her own savings left after the down payment on the house, should see her through about six months of remodeling. After that, would her painting sustain her? Not if you don’t start painting again. But that worry was for another day.
With everything loaded in her SUV, there wasn’t an inch of space to spare. Livy carefully closed the back hatch and turned to face Jack.
“I can’t thank you enough for your help with all this, Jack. You’ve already done so much.”
“Well, my weekday mornings are usually pretty quiet, so it worked out great.”
She fiddled with her car keys so she wouldn’t stare at his tall frame, kind eyes, and wide shoulders. Get it together, Liv. You’re not in high school.
“Jasper doesn’t come in today, so I’m here until we close at six. Wish I could stop by and help.”
Livy couldn’t be sure, but maybe he didn’t want her to leave.
“But on Tuesdays several of us get together at The Garage—the small restaurant at the end of Main—for wings. Greg and Mer will be there. You’re welcome to join us.”
“That sounds fun.” She couldn’t resist meeting his eyes this time. “I’ll have to see how today goes. I may be soaking in a hot tub by sundown. But I’ll certainly be there if I’m up for it.”
“Great. We usually meet up around six-thirty and don’t head home until around nine or later.” Jack shoved both hands in the back pockets of his jeans and shifted his feet, looking at the ground. Definitely stalling. She pressed her lips together to hide her amusement. He suddenly straightened and burst out with, “Hey, why don’t you take my cell number? You know, just in case you need something up at the house.”
How cute. “Sure, that’d be great.” She pulled up a new contact form on her phone and handed it to him to input his number.
“Thanks, Jack. Really.” Getting into the car, she wrinkled her nose then smiled. “I’ve said that a lot over these few days. I’m sure going to owe you big time!”
“Nah, I bet we’ll be even before you know it.” Jack closed the door behind her and rapped on the hood before stepping to the curb. As she pulled onto Main Street, she watched him wave through her rearview mirror. If only he were coming with her.
CHAPTER
Seven
S he’s cute.”
Jack turned sharply from watching Livy’s car pull out of town. It was Owen Barnett, one of his best friends and his pastor.
“You can’t sneak up on a guy like that, Rev.” Jack laughed, shaking his friend’s hand and escorting him into the store. Owen came by to chat at least one morning a week, taking the short walk from the parsonage next door to the Methodist church a few streets over.
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen her around. Just someone passing through?”
“No, she’s Mrs. Johnson’s granddaughter. She came to visit one summer when we lived over there as kids. I haven’t seen her in years, but she’s back in town for at least a good while.” What would she do after the house was finished? Did she plan to live in the cottage? Or was she just here for the project, to clear her head and then move on with her life? He hadn’t thought that far. He filled Owen in on Livy’s plans to fix up the old home and that he planned to help. That much he knew, and it was enough for now.
“I’m glad to see you with another project, even if it’s not one of your own. Feeling good about it?” Just like Jasper, Owen had expressed worry when Jack stopped his work on house projects after the divorce, knowing how much they were like therapy for him.
“Yeah, I am.” Jack paused, unsure what else to tell. Many of his thoughts about Livy were still unclear. I’ve really only known her a few days. He’ll think I’m crazy if I tell him how often she’s on my mind. We’ve both gone through a lot and become much different people since that summer all those years ago. Because Owen was both his pastor and a faithful and kind friend, Jack usually tested his thoughts and feelings on him. He’d been the one to counsel Jack after he’d caught Claire being unfaithful and after the divorce. There wasn’t much Owen didn’t know about Jack.
“You know, it’s strange,” Jack started again, working to put together a birdhouse for a display. “The minute I saw Livy up at the inn, I just knew there was something about her. When she introduced herself, I remembered her from the summer we played together. After all these years, it was like finding fate standing right in front of me. She’s been in town only two full days, and we’ve spent a good bit of that time together. At the coffee shop, up at her grandmother’s house, here at the store. I’m telling you, Owen, as i
nsane as it sounds, I really like this woman.”
“Can I tell you something?” Owen shifted his weight, arms crossed and eyes piercing Jack’s. Owen often started with this rhetorical question. Even the church members to whom he preached knew it was his polite way of announcing something especially worth telling. “Ever since the day you signed the divorce papers and told me you never wanted to love another woman, I’ve been praying that God would bring someone into your life who knocked you off your feet and made it impossible not to love her. I have no clue if Livy is that woman, but I consider this proof that God is at work in your life big time, brother. You’re talking like the old Jack I know, the guy who swoons easily and loves hard.” Owen’s grin grew, his high dimples cresting at the top of his cheekbones above a thick, dark beard.
“That means a lot, Owen.” Jack loved his friends deeply, and they loved him. He couldn’t recall even one time that they weren’t there when he needed them—during his parents’ deaths, when things went sour with Claire, when the depths of his sorrow threatened to suffocate him. They were always there. And Owen, in particular, saw to it that Jack didn’t succumb to hopelessness. Jack had lost count of how many times Owen called to make sure he’d be at the men’s Bible study, came over to the cabin when he’d missed church, and prayed with him when the anger took over.
Jack rested a hand on Owen’s shoulder. “Just keep those prayers coming, will you? And we’ll see what God has in store.”
The two friends talked for a few more minutes about the condition of Livy’s house and how much work she had in front of her. As a few customers wandered in, Owen gathered his coat and readied to leave.
“Maybe we can rally the gang one weekend and have us an old-fashioned barn-raising to hammer out some of the heavy work up at Livy’s place.” Owen said, shaking Jack’s hand.
“That’s a great idea. I know she’d appreciate the help. Oh, I also invited Livy to join us tonight if she feels up to it.” Jack and Owen made their way toward the front door as the clock in the town square chimed eleven o’clock. “Remind me to tell her your idea. She’ll love it. And I’ll bet she and Jen really hit it off.” Jennifer was Owen’s wife, and he was right. Jack would have to get the women together sometime. Jen was sweet, funny, and a wonderful, tender mother to their two children. Jack had no doubt Livy would love her as much as he did.
Someplace Familiar (Laurel Cove Romance Book 1) Page 7
