by Judi Lynn
She grimaced to herself. How lucky could a girl get! She had Axel and his mirror-image son. They’d better not push her too far. After her night on the town with Keagan, she’d decide what to do, if she wanted to stick it out a little longer or throw in the towel and go home.
Chapter 15
Karli pulled her robe tight around her and slipped on warm footsies in the morning. The old house got cold during the night, so she padded to the kitchen to start the coffeepot. On her way, she glanced at the fireplace in the living room. Piles of wood sat in straight lines beside the driveway, but she had no idea how to start a real fire. Her apartment had a gas fireplace. All she did was switch a flip to light it.
She turned on overhead lights as she went. The rooms she’d painted made her so happy, the dingy rooms looked even sadder. She decided to paint the dining room. It was a beautiful room with lovely built-ins. She’d feel like she was doing something constructive. If nothing else, the fumes should keep Kurt away from her; that, and the fact that he seemed allergic to labor of any kind.
She sipped her coffee, then pulled on her paint clothes. Axel still wasn’t stirring, and Kurt only roamed downstairs when he was hungry. The bread she’d left on the counter was gone, so she assumed he’d made himself a snack in the wee hours last night. He’d better enjoy it while he could. She didn’t think Sylvie would be as generous with him.
She heard Axel stirring after nine, so stopped to take him a cup of coffee and some applesauce. He frowned at her. “Are you painting again?”
He had a valid question. Even she was beginning to wonder about herself. But it took so little effort to make the old house look good, why not do it? She could almost feel each room smile when she finished it.
“Might as well. The dining room’s so pretty, it deserves a little attention. Besides, I like to spend time there. The living room’s next.”
He shrugged but looked pleased. “My mom made us eat every supper at the dining room table. Insisted on us sitting down as a family.”
“That was my dad’s rule, too.” Karli pulled up his blinds and let sunshine spill into the room. “Are you warm enough?”
He reached for his wool robe. “I’m fine. Keagan’s been making noises to move me inside the house to a warmer room, but I like it out here.”
“It has to get really cold in January and February.”
Axel snorted. “You’ll be gone by then and I can have the parlor.”
He looked too pleased with himself. “Probably sooner,” she said, and he glowered. The old poop. He’d miss her when she was gone. “Hungry?”
“Not much. Toast and jam would be enough today.”
After they ate, she helped him into the bathroom and back, then returned to her painting. She had the ceiling and one wall finished by eleven and Kurt still wasn’t up. Must be nice to keep whatever hours you wanted. She looked in the refrigerator, and there weren’t as many leftovers as she’d thought. The men would need those for supper Thursday night, so she stopped work to cook a huge pot of chili. Soon, she’d run out of ideas. She only knew how to cook a limited number of things. She kept the chili mild for Axel, and when she carried his bowl to the sun-room, Kurt was sitting in the spare chair, watching TV with him.
Axel took a quick bite of his lunch and nodded. “Can I get some crackers?”
Kurt followed her to the kitchen and dished himself up a bowl to carry to the porch. He balanced it on his lap, took a bite, and called, “Not spicy enough. I like jalapenos in mine.”
Really? What is he—a food critic? “Ask me if I care.”
The man wouldn’t win any awards for brains or charm. She rummaged through the cupboards for a sleeve of crackers to take to Axel.
Kurt returned for seconds before she could dish up her own food. She decided to eat in the kitchen. She’d cracked the dining room windows to keep the paint smell from being too overwhelming, so it was chilly in the front of the house. She ate, standing at the window over the sink, looking out across dead fields. How long would it take to get used to seeing nothing but weeds and crop stubble for miles? In her apartment in Indy, she could hear neighbors tramp up and down the stairs, hear their cars start in the morning, and fuss when they played their music too loud. She felt isolated here.
By suppertime, every wall was painted, and she’d started the living room ceiling. She was tired. She heated up Tyne’s chicken and dumplings. Both men loved it, but who didn’t like anything Tyne cooked? He could make gruel delicious. After she tidied the house, she showered and changed into her pajamas and robe, then settled in her room for the night. Kurt wandered to the parlor to find her.
“My room smelled a little musty last night. It needs to be dusted and swept.”
She stared at him. “You don’t remember where the broom closet is?”
He tugged at his shaggy beard. “I thought you were taking care of the house.”
“You thought wrong. I’m painting because I got tired of looking at these sorry walls, but I don’t spend time upstairs. Have no desire to. It’s as clean as I’m going to make it.”
“But you’re a woman.”
“Yes, I noticed, and I still won’t clean up after you.”
He turned on his heels and walked away. A little later, she heard him rummaging through the refrigerator. He called, “Why don’t you ever buy beer?”
“If I did, it would be my beer. Buy your own.”
He returned to stand in front of her. “My car’s not running so well right now.”
“It got you here, didn’t it? If it conks out, you can probably hoof it into town.”
He glared and went back to sit with Axel. Finally, he returned and held out a ten-dollar bill for her. “When you go to town for groceries tomorrow, pick me up some Bud Light, will you?”
She glanced up from her laptop. “I’m not your delivery girl, and I’m not going to town. You two are on your own tomorrow night. Keagan’s taking me out for supper.”
Axel heard her. What was the deal? Did the man have radar ears? Most people his age were hard of hearing. He called, “What are we supposed to eat?”
“There’s plenty of cottage cheese and applesauce.”
Kurt pinched his lips in a tight line, but didn’t argue. “We have lots of leftovers, don’t we?”
“More than you deserve if you don’t eat them all tonight.” She went back to reading her e-mails, and Kurt took the hint and left.
The next morning, she pulled on her paint clothes with less enthusiasm. Her arms and back hurt. Her neck ached. What the hell had she been thinking? But she only had one more room to go and the downstairs would be finished. Not the bathroom. That was more work than she wanted to expend, so she painted the living room and thought she’d never get it done. There were too many windows and doors to tape around. She covered the front of the fireplace. When she finally finished, she swallowed two Advil. By four-thirty, the parlor, dining room, and living room looked as good as they were going to get, so she quit to get ready for when Keagan came.
“What about supper?” Axel called.
“Kurt’s here. He can heat up leftovers.”
“We had those for lunch.”
“There are still some left. There are packets of Meals on Wheels in the refrigerator, too.” She’d bought a week’s worth, but Axel wouldn’t touch them. “And we have . . .”
He finished for her. “Applesauce, cottage cheese, and Ensure.”
“Bon appétit, boys!”
Once in her room, she grimaced at the clothes she’d packed for her stay. What to wear? Keagan seemed to favor the natural look, but she liked to make more of a splash. He was taking her to a microbrewery, so she didn’t want to overdress. She decided on a pair of tight jeans and a V-necked, black shirt with a mustard-colored cardigan. The mustard yellow looked good with her dark coloring. She rimmed her eyes with brown liner and added pea
ch lipstick, then studied herself in the mirror. She’d do.
His blue SUV pulled in the drive at five-thirty, and she ran out to meet him.
He grinned. “Are you ready to get away from Axel for a while?”
Fastening her seat belt, she shrugged. “I can stomach Axel. It’s Kurt who drives me nuts. Sylvie’s supposed to be on her way, too. If they’re willing to watch over the old fart, he won’t need me. I can leave him to them.” She waited for his reaction.
“When I told Mom that Kurt had shown up, she didn’t have anything good to say about him. We all think you’ve done more than anyone expected to try to help Axel.”
Not what she wanted to hear. She wanted Keagan to be sad she might leave soon. Instead, he gave her a running commentary of the shops they were passing on the way to the brewery. “This way is a little longer, so you can see some of the town. My sister just started selling her jewelry at Lefty’s shop,” he said, pointing. “She works with polymer, beads, and polished stones.”
“I love jewelry. I’ll have to check it out.” Karli had a thing for necklaces. She hadn’t packed any to come here. No need to doll up for Axel, but since she’d met Keagan, she wished she’d brought a couple.
He gestured up and down Main Street. “This is the main drag. Ralph’s diner is down there.”
They passed a florist shop that sold honey. Karli shook her head. “That’s an odd combination.”
“Not really. They grow a lot of their own flowers in the summer, so they keep bees.”
Joel’s microbrewery was close to the highway—a great location to attract tourists on their way to the national forest. The parking lot wasn’t full, but there were a decent number of cars. The inside of the old building surprised her with its bright colors and warehouse feel. Keagan led her to the bar side, and people waved as they chose a table.
“We go up to the counter to place our orders,” he told her. “I’m getting the sausage sandwich. Joel gets the sausage special made from Carl Gruber. You’ll never taste sausage this good anywhere else.”
They went to the counter, and she ordered a sausage sandwich, fries, and beer, too. Back at the table, she bit into the sandwich and almost moaned. She loved sausage, anyway, and Keagan was right. This was better than anything she’d ever tasted.
He gave a satisfied smile. “Well?”
“I’m eating two of these.”
He laughed. They were halfway through their meal when people started dropping by to say hi. Two women came first.
“Hi, I’m Daphne. You’ve met my husband Tyne. I own the stained-glass shop in town.”
“And I’m Miriam,” the tall woman said. “My husband owns the brewery, so you’d think I’d be sick of eating here, but Daphne and I aren’t the best cooks.”
More people followed, every one of them friendly, welcoming her to town. By the time she and Keagan were on their own again, Karli had finished her meal.
“Ready for another sandwich?” Keagan asked. “I am.”
When he went to the counter to order, she went to help carry their beers. An older man turned to introduce himself to her. “Hi, I’m Buck Krieger. I own the landscape nursery a little outside of town.” Before they got back to their seats, a half dozen other people greeted her.
“Is everyone always this nice?” Karli asked when they sat down.
“Mostly.” He squirted mustard on his sausage. “Every town has a few clunkers, but we like to watch out for our own.”
“But I’m not your own. I’m only here for a little while.”
He shook his head. “Your mom grew up here. We have partial claim on you. It made my mom happy to know your mom turned out happy, so people are glad to see you.”
That made sense. Karli sipped her beer and studied Keagan over the rim of her glass. “Since you didn’t want to farm, did you ever want to leave Mill Pond?”
“Nope, never.” His brows dipped in a frown. She’d obviously brought up something unpleasant.
She fidgeted, uncomfortable. “Did I say something that annoyed you?”
He scratched his head. “Not your fault. I sometimes wonder if I’d have left Mill Pond with Cecily if she’d have stayed with me, that’s all.”
Uh-oh, did he still have a thing for an ex-girlfriend? “How long has it been since you broke up?”
“Three years. We lived together for two years, but she left town with a coworker from the factory. Well, after the factory closed down, that is.”
Three years was a long time. He should be ready to move on by now. Karli reached out to touch his hand. “I’m sorry. It must have hurt.”
“I could never make her happy.” He took a deep draught of his beer. “Anyway, it was for the best. I need to get my business secure before I settle down with someone else.”
Settle down? That was the last thing she wanted. She’d become a traveling nurse for a reason. She wanted to be able to pick up and move whenever the mood hit her. “You’re pretty close to getting your own place, aren’t you?” She’d gotten the impression he was ready to buy a house and set up a studio.
He nodded. “I’ve been saving. I’ll have low monthly payments, so I don’t have to worry about debt. Now, I just need to find the right property.”
Karli decided to let the conversation rest a minute. They’d gotten on some dicey subjects and she wanted to shift back to a cheerful mood. They finished their meals in comfortable silence.
He had beautiful eyes and eyelashes. She could stare at him for hours and hardly notice the scars on the side of his face. Odd, how they faded away when she started talking with him.
When they finished eating, he left a tip and led her to his SUV. “Ready to see my studio?”
“I sure am.” Damn, how she wished the invitation was a come-on, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t. He really did want to show her his work. Too bad. She could think of lots of creative ways he could use his hands besides molding clay.
Chapter 16
By the time they drove back past Axel’s farm, darkness blanketed every field and country road. Keagan turned into the long drive that led to his parents’ house—a big, white four square with a porch swing hanging on the narrow front porch. Karli couldn’t help comparing it to Axel’s. His porch was long and wide with columns that marched across its front and turned a corner to meet the side of the house. She loved it.
Lights spilled from his parents’ living room windows. More lights beamed from a back room.
“Mom’s in the kitchen,” he said. “Mom and Dad must be eating a late supper tonight. Dad probably worked outside until it got dark.”
Karli thought of her parents. They ate supper at six-thirty. When she was growing up, she was expected to be home every night unless she got special permission to skip or be late. “That’s when families catch up with each other,” Dad always told them. “Supper is sacred.”
Karli had fussed and fumed about that rule when she was younger. Now, she cherished it. Dad’s rule had made their family bond.
A little farther down the drive, a ranch house sat back on a deep, front lawn. “My sister and her husband’s house,” Keagan said.
Keagan drove past a freshly painted, red barn to a long, narrow shed that must have held yard equipment at one time. He parked and led her to the door. He unlocked it, flipped on the bright overhead lights, and led her inside. It felt good to get out of the chilly night air. In November, when the sun dipped, so did the temperatures.
The studio’s walls and ceiling were painted white. The wooden floor was painted green. Long, butcher-block counters lined all three walls with pine shelves mounted to the walls above them. A sturdy oak table occupied the center of the room with a pottery wheel at each end. A kiln took up one corner of the room. But what caught her attention was the beautiful products drying on every available surface.
She couldn’t help it. She walked
to the shelves holding the displays to study them, drawn by Keagan’s beautiful work. In a large cupboard that held one dish of each design he’d ever made, she studied the new lines for every season. He had six plates on the bottom shelf for spring. For the first, hyacinths, daffodils, and tulips were hand painted on a white plate. On the next, the entire surface was embossed with different spring flowers and then glazed with a butter yellow. She loved each year’s pattern, then looked at the plates he’d made for six summers. One featured daisies and lilacs, another violets and green leaves, another roses, and one featured an embossed sun design that covered an entire dish. Fall had colored leaves on a white background, another plate was embossed with pumpkins, gourds, and acorns, another featured mums and sedum. Each was so special, she didn’t know which she’d choose if she was going to order a set. Winter took her breath away.
“They’re all gorgeous,” she told Keagan.
He came to stand next to her. “You must love snow.”
“I love the seasons, but these just make me happy.” One entire plate was embossed with snowmen, sleds, and mittens, then glazed a glossy red. Another had a white center and was surrounded by vivid red poinsettias. A third was rimmed with pine trees with cardinals perched on their branches. Her favorite might have been the plate rimmed with fruit pies and steaming mugs of coffee to warm the cold winter days.
He nodded toward the shelves with specialty items. “I paint cookie jars and teapots to order.”
There was a wide of variety of those, too. Some were shaped like cats with the tail curved to be a handle. One teapot was a fat Carolina wren with its beak open to form a spout. She shook her head in wonder. “I love them all.”
The rest of the shelves and counters were filled with work to fill orders. He sighed. “I really could use more space someday, but this works for now.”
She noticed plates and bowls drying on drop cloths in the back corner. She gave a seductive smile and bent over, pretending to study those. Her neckline plunged. Her jeans were tight. His expression said that he’d noticed. And then there was a quick knock on the door, and Brad strode inside.
