The House on Main Street

by Shirlee McCoy

  “Come on, buddy, you have to eat,” she said, her face taut with worry, her eyes red rimmed and hollow. She pressed a fork into Alex’s hand, and he took a small bite of carrot, chewing absently, his gaze distant and unfocused.

  Poor kid. Cade had tried not to listen to the murmurs about little Alex Riley, but it was difficult to ignore Ida and her cronies. Ever since Darla left, they’d converged on his house every Monday, bearing a week’s worth of casseroles and decades’ worth of gossip. Cade had about six dozen foil-wrapped meals in his freezer and a bucket-load of information about Apple Valley residents.

  He dug into his pot roast, the soft tick of a clock and the clink of silverware against plates the only sounds. The house felt heavy and dark, the silence something Cade wasn’t used to. He had five siblings, and there hadn’t been a moment of quiet in his life until he’d grown up and moved away from his parents’ home. Even now, he preferred noise to quiet.

  “So,” he said to break the silence. “You like baseball, Alex?”

  Alex paused with a carrot halfway to his mouth, his gaze skittering to Cade and then away again. “Piano,” he answered quietly, his voice like rusty wind chimes.

  “Yeah? I used to play piano.” A million years ago, but if mentioning it kept Alex talking, Cade would bring it up. According to Ida, Alex almost never spoke, didn’t have friends. Didn’t have much but two empty-headed parents, a wiseass aunt, and the Riley house. Even that wouldn’t be his much longer.

  “You bring that angel to Ida?” Gertrude asked through a mouthful of potato.

  “I did. She’s already lined up interviews with a few Riley relatives. She wants to see if she can corroborate the story before she displays the angel.” Ida was like that. A stickler for the details.

  “All she has to do is talk to me,” Gertrude huffed. “I heard the story straight from Dave. He said Miriam made that angel, and I have no reason to doubt him. Seeing as how the Riley house is going to be sold for scrap and razed to the ground—”

  “Gertrude!” Tess cut in, her gaze on Alex. “This isn’t the time.”

  “You say that every time I bring it up,” Gertrude muttered, but she glanced at Alex, too, her face softening as she looked at the silent boy.

  “Done. May I be excused?” Alex asked so softly Cade barely heard him.

  “You hardly ate anything, Alex,” Tessa said, but she didn’t try to stop him when he got up. He walked into the hall, scrawny and small for a ten-year-old, his narrow shoulders hunched as he disappeared into a room.

  “Next time, think before you speak, Gertie,” Tessa hissed as soon as the door closed.

  “You think he doesn’t know that you’re planning on dragging him all the way across this country? You think he doesn’t understand that you’re going to take away everything he loves? The boy may be autistic, but he’s not stupid!”

  “I’m not taking him anywhere.” Tess stood abruptly, grabbing Alex’s plate and her own and walking into the small kitchen. She dumped the contents into a trash can, her shoulders tight, her back rigid.

  “What do you mean, you’re not taking him?” Gertrude snapped. “You’re cleaning out the house. You’re putting it on the market. What are you going to do? Buy a hovel for me and the kid and go off to your fancy life?”

  “Let’s discuss this later.”

  Tessa responded with a lot less anger than Cade expected. She and Gertrude used to go at it like a couple of alley cats when Tess was a teenager. Usually because of some big dream that Tessa had. Some plan for leaving Apple Valley and her family behind. Not something Cade had ever wanted to do, but he’d admired her for standing up to her aunt—encouraged her to do it, actually.

  This time, he’d just sit back and listen. Too much time had passed for him to jump into the fray. Besides, like Tessa, he’d learned the power of patience and the strength of silence.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Gertrude stood, her frizzy fried hair nearly vibrating. “This is my life, too. If you have some big plan for tearing me away from it, you’d better damn well let me know.”

  “If I recall”—Tess responded calmly, but there was fire in her eyes and a hint of the old Tess in her voice—“you wanted nothing to do with my plans for this house or for Alex this morning when I wanted to discuss a time frame for listing the property with a real estate agent. As a matter of fact, you threatened to disown me if I set foot in your room or touched one of your precious pieces of ju—one of your collectibles.”

  “Listen here, you—” Gertrude sputtered.

  “I don’t have time for this, Gert. I have work to do. Emily and Dave’s mess isn’t going to clean itself. You go ahead and enjoy the meal, Cade. I’ll be outside when you’re done.”

  Tess stalked away, and, damn, if he didn’t find himself watching the sway of her hips as she went.

  “Get your mind out of the gutter, Cade,” Gertrude growled.

  “Get your mood out of it, Ms. Gertrude.”

  “I’m not in a mood.”

  “Then why did you just chase your niece away?” he asked mildly. Gertrude had a sharp tongue and no filter. Emily had been the same. Not that he’d spent much time worrying about that when he was a teen. Living next door to the hottest girl in school had been all he’d really thought about.

  Young. Hormonal. Stupid.

  That about covered the years from twelve to eighteen.

  “I didn’t chase. She ran. Just like she always does.”

  “She didn’t run until you started in on her about selling the house and moving.”

  “Eat your pot roast before it gets cold,” Gertrude commanded, every wrinkle in her face pulled into a scowl. The scowl couldn’t hide the worry in her eyes, the tremor in her hand as she adjusted her Santa hat and sat down. She might be a tough old lady, but she loved her family.

  “Stop worrying, Gertrude.” He patted her bony shoulder and was rewarded with a deeper scowl.

  “I’m not worrying. I just don’t like having my life turned upside down.”

  “Tess is just doing what she thinks is right.”

  “She’s trying to kick me out of the only home I have. That’s what she’s doing.”

  “I thought you didn’t like dramatics,” he responded mildly as he carried his empty plate to the sink and washed it.

  “Just stating the facts.”

  “The facts as I see them are this. Tess inherited a mess. She’s got to clean it up before the town comes down on her and hands her a boatload of fines. Much as Zimmerm—”

  “I’ll thank you not to mention his name while I’m eating. A woman likes to enjoy her meal.”

  “Much as your neighbor may annoy the hell out of me, he has the right to complain, and as sheriff I’ve got to respond. I looked into things back at the office, and the law is clear. You don’t get the property cleaned up, and the town can hire a crew to come in and do it. That’ll cost a lot more money than the estate probably has. If you can’t repay the cost, a lien will be placed against the house. You want to lose the house and land, Gertrude?”

  “You know that I don’t.”

  “Then give Tessa a break and let her do what needs to be done.” He set the plate in the drainer. “I’m going to give her a hand.”

  He ignored Gertrude’s hot glare and left the kitchen, the wooden stairs creaking under his feet as he descended. Bitter cold air wafted in, newspaper skittering across the floor as Cade walked through the foyer. According to Ida, Emily and Dave had been proud of This-N-That, attending commerce meetings and talking the place up to anyone who would listen. Cade had worked really hard at ignoring the Rileys, so he hadn’t heard either of them praising the neglected house and the junk shop it contained. Probably a good thing. He’d likely have told them they were delusional.

  Cade shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his coat as he walked outside. A few trash bags were lined up near the porch stairs. Two had been abandoned near his truck. Tessa sat on the old swing beneath the white-barked birch, the ru
sted chains creaking as she twisted to the left and then to the right. She looked as lonely as the house felt.

  “You okay?” he asked as he lifted a couple of bags and walked across the yard.

  “Fine. I just wasn’t sure you really wanted a bunch of trash in the back of your truck.” She stood, brushing a hand down her firm, round behind. “It’s a sweet ride.”

  “Yeah. Sweet,” he murmured, dragging his gaze away from her ass and tossing trash into the back of the pickup. “But it’s also practical. No sense having a truck that I can’t use.”

  “A Ford F-1. Right?” She grabbed the two bags that were sitting beside the truck and tossed them in.

  “You know your cars, Tess.” That had been one of the things that he’d liked about her when they were kids. She’d been funny, tough, and eager to learn about anything and everything that Cade and his friends had been into. From the time she and her sister had been dropped off at Gertrude’s until the hot summer day when Cade had discovered girls, he and Tess had been thick as thieves.

  “I was taught by the best.” She hurried back across the yard, grabbed several more trash bags.

  “You were the only girl I knew who’d listen to me talk about the rusted-out car carcasses at the dump. That’s a heady feeling for an eight-year-old boy.”

  “Yeah?” She heaved three bags into the truck. They were making quick work of the mess on the porch. Too quick, because Cade was enjoying the trip down memory lane. It had been awhile since he’d thought of Tess. Now he wasn’t sure why.

  Tess hurried back to the porch, and he leaned against the truck and watched her. She’d changed, but she was still the same, too. Fast, strong, eager.

  “It wasn’t such a difficult thing to listen to you talk about old cars,” she said, panting as she jogged back with more trash. “I’ve always appreciated old things. I also appreciate warmth. Let’s get this done, so you can go home and I can go inside and wrap up in a dozen blankets.”

  “Is that a hint?” He laughed, and she grinned.

  “If it is, it’s not a very subtle one, is it? I’m freezing. Get your he-man muscles moving, before I succumb to the cold.”

  He laughed again, but did what she wanted, grabbing up the last few bags and piling them in with the rest.

  “The East Coast has made you soft, Red,” he said, using the pet name he’d coined the day they’d met. “What are you going to do when it gets really cold?”

  “If I start thinking about that, I may change my mind about staying.”

  “So, you were serious about not taking Alex to Annapolis?”

  “He has enough challenges without me adding to them.”

  “It would have saved you some grief if you’d told Gertrude that.”

  “You know Gertrude. She likes to fight. Even when there’s nothing to fight about.”

  “True, but she might have been too shocked to fight if you’d let her know your plans.”

  Tessa shrugged, moving through the yard with a garbage bag and picking up scraps of paper. Cade followed, grabbing a few broken plastic buckets and a length of hose. The yard already looked better.

  Tessa tossed the bag into the back of the truck. “I think that’s probably good enough for tonight. I’ll finish the rest tomorrow. Thanks for your help, Cade.”

  “No problem,” he said. “We’ve always been a good team.”

  He thought the comment would make her smile, but she just eyed him silently. Then walked away.

  He caught up to her in two steps, snagging the back of her coat and pulling her to a stop. “There’s no need to run away, Tess.”

  “I’m not running. I’m going inside before I freeze to death.”

  It was a lie. Cade knew it, but he wasn’t sure why she’d tell it or what her real reason was for wanting to rush away. “You sure?”

  Was she?

  Tess wasn’t sure how to answer that. On the one hand, she really was freezing. On the other hand, she was more worried about getting away from Cade than she was about dying of hypothermia. “It’s been a long week, Cade. I’m exhausted.”

  He nodded, watching her solemnly. “You’ve been through a lot.”

  “The whole family has, and if I’m going to be any good to anyone, I need to get some sleep.” That sounded reasonable. It even sounded true. It was true. Tess hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours since she’d arrived.

  “You do look tired.” He traced the sensitive skin beneath her eye, his finger warm and calloused. It felt good, and it was all she could do not to throw her arms around his waist and hold on tight.

  God, she needed someone. Desperately.

  But not him.

  Been down that road before. Knew where it led. Didn’t want to make a return trip.

  “Thanks,” she responded wryly, because hearing that she looked tired was exactly what every woman wanted.

  “That doesn’t mean you don’t also look beautiful.” He smiled, flashing his dimple.

  Her traitorous heart jumped in response.

  That probably made her the biggest fool west of the Mississippi. She was almost too tired to care.

  “Too little too late,” she responded, keeping her voice light.

  “Then I guess I need to apologize and find a way to make it up to you.” His knuckles skimmed her cheek, and she shivered, taking a quick step back.

  “No need. Good night, Cade.” She threw the words over her shoulder as she ran across the yard.

  He said something that she couldn’t quite hear. She didn’t ask him to repeat it, because tears were burning the back of her eyes, and she’d given up crying the night her mother had brought her and Emily to Gertrude’s and left them there. She’d been five. Emily had been six. They’d been told they were going to finally spend Christmas as a family. Emily had believed it, bubbling with enthusiasm and joy at the thought of Christmas gifts and food.

  Tessa had been suspicious, barely sleeping Christmas Eve night. She wasn’t waiting to hear Santa’s sleigh bells. She was waiting to hear the coughing rumble of her mother’s old station wagon. The room had been dark as pitch, Gertrude’s little ranch-style house silent and unfamiliar. Emily had been breathing deeply, completely trusting in their mother’s promise that they’d finally spend Christmas in a house with a tree and presents.

  Tessa still remembered hearing the old engine grumble and gasp. Still remembered creeping to the window and watching her mother drive away. Still remembered the hot tears that had spilled down her cheeks. She’d known Gretchen was never coming back, and she’d hated her for it.

  She stepped into the house, the sounds of pots and pans clanging from the apartment above. She didn’t have the energy to go upstairs. Didn’t want to fight with Gertrude anymore.

  What she wanted was to be back home, decorating her little Christmas tree, listening to Christmas carols and planning for Emily and Dave’s yearly visit. Two days entertaining her family, and she’d always felt like she’d done her duty.

  She’d loved them.

  She had.

  But she’d spent her childhood cleaning up Emily’s messes. She hadn’t wanted to spend the rest of her life doing the same. No worries about that now. Emily was gone. Just one more mess to clean up and all those years would be behind her.

  But, God, she wished she could have them back.

  “I know you’re down there, Tessa Louise,” Gertrude hollered. “You may as well come up here and face the music.”

  Fingernails on chalkboard, but Tessa couldn’t ignore it. No matter how much she wanted to.

  Her family.

  She’d always loved them.

  Now, all she had to do was figure out how to live with them.

  Chapter Four

  Bang!

  Scrape!

  Squeal!

  The sounds drilled their way into Tessa’s brain.

  She squinted at the alarm clock.

  Five in the morning, and someone was making enough noise to wake the dead.

  She
pressed the pillow to her ears, but nothing could block the racket. It had to be Gertrude. Had to be.

  She shoved aside the thick down quilt, shivering as her bare feet met cold wood floor. She had kinks in her neck, back, and shoulders. From tension and from sleeping on the old Victorian chaise lounge in Emily and Dave’s room. She couldn’t stomach the thought of climbing into the bed they’d shared. Couldn’t imagine that her dreams would be sweet if she did.

  She stumbled over the damn porcelain cat that had been sitting on the floor since she arrived. She should have cleaned the overstuffed room, but she hadn’t had the heart to change anything. It had been her sister’s space, and there was a tiny part of Emily that still seemed to live in the things she’d collected.

  And cleaning out the room?

  It felt too much like saying a final good-bye.

  She crept into the hall, afraid of waking Alex. He slept fitfully and, according to Gertrude, had been known to wander. It hadn’t happened in the ten days since Tessa had arrived, but she was terrified that it would.

  Bang!

  Tess followed the sound through the apartment and down the stairs, inhaling the acrid scent of burnt coffee. A light shone from the old kitchen, its glow splashing across the nicked and stained floor. The place had good bones. Really good ones. As a matter of fact, Tess had decorated quite a few Victorian mansions during her career. She’d seen some in worse shape than this one, turned into beautiful showpieces.

  There was no reason why she couldn’t do the same. Except that she didn’t want to pour her energy and money into a house in a town she despised.

  She walked into the kitchen, stopping cold when she saw the source of the noise.

  Gertrude. Of course.

  Shoving the china cabinet across the floor, her housecoat flapping as she moved, her face red from effort.

  The china cabinet wasn’t moving. The old vinyl floor was. The grimy black-and-white pattern buckling and ripping.

  “What in the heck are you doing, Gertrude?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” Gertie snapped, her off-colored hair standing up like she’d stuck her finger in a light socket. “I’m putting this in the mudroom.”