“I’m going to reopen my shop and make a name for myself here, and I’ll tell you something else, John McTully.” She closed the distance between them and placed her hand over the scar on his collarbone. Her eyes flashed, wild and determined, her control of the situation, of him, pulling his focus to her. His skin tightened as her fingers shifted the fabric of his shirt and drove a current through his body, blocking out the scene around them. All that was left was her and him, together.
“Faith...”
“I have loved you for longer than you know. A few days ago, I might have convinced myself that I could settle for something less from you, something less than what I wanted, if it meant being with you. But now I realize that I deserve to be loved fully, heart and body and soul. And you, John...” She slipped her hand under the top of his shirt and pressed her hand firmly to the scar. “You deserve to be loved that way too.”
He blinked hard. He wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go, but he knew she’d have none of it. She didn’t trust that he would mean it, even if he did.
Before he could respond, she reclaimed her hand, the sudden absence leaving the spot on his chest cool. She crossed to her shop and disappeared with an urgency that made him think twice about following her.
The guys from the glass repair store continued to work, methodically, no one glancing over. People milling the sidewalk and cars driving by moved with the same speed they had moments before. The sun continued to shine. The morning was as bright and promising as it had been when he’d first arrived. No one reacted to what Faith had said or done. He stood as rigid as a statue, rooted to the ground as if vines had sprouted and wrapped around his feet. Inside, however, his emotions whipped furiously. Watching her walk away left him strangled by his own desires and considering whether he could ever again live a life that didn’t have Faith Fitzpatrick in it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
FAITH PARKED HER car behind her shop and lugged a bag of paint containers through the back door. She’d taken Tully’s advice and bought more colors to go along with the red, including a rosy pink, baby pink, white and charcoal gray. She’d been reimagining what the store logo would look like all day and now that the new window had been replaced, she was ready to get started.
She kicked the back door closed and fumbled for the overhead light when she heard voices. Through the window, the perfectly polished one that she hoped she’d never have to replace again, she spotted people peering in from the other side.
“Oh, great,” she muttered to the empty store. “What do they want now?”
Faith dropped the bag of small paint containers on the counter and made her way to the door, unlocking it and stepping out into the late afternoon sun. A crowd of people stared at her. She shifted uneasily on her feet.
“Can I help you?” she said, aware her tone was defensive and harsh. With nearly two dozen people there, she didn’t have another tone in her arsenal that matched the situation. She half expected someone to point a finger at her and declare her the black sheep of Main Street. If this was an intervention on her behalf, she feared what their motivation was and what they hoped the outcome would be. Heath Harrison and a boy she assumed was his son watched, along with Rick Murdock and his wife, Gemma, whom she recognized instantly. She didn’t know what to expect and emotionally began readying her armor.
She was about to say something rash, no doubt, just as she spotted Mara Selby and her daughter, Lucy. She and Mara had been on good terms since she’d arrived in town. Officer Stillwater and a pretty blonde, most likely his wife, were there too. Officer Stillwater grinned.
“What is all this?” Faith asked, now scanning the crowd for Tully. He may not want to reciprocate feelings for her the way she’d wanted, but he had been kind and supportive and she knew he would never be a part of a mob mentality against her.
Her heart sank when she didn’t immediately find him as his tall frame would be nearly impossible to miss. But when she spotted Caroline and Trig, her stance softened. She blinked several times, noticeably confused but instantly reassured that nothing sinister could be at play with her cousins there. She trusted them. If they were on board with whatever was transpiring on her front walk, she shouldn’t have anything to fear.
Trig winked at her and it brought a nervous smile to her face.
CeCe stepped forward, her arm linked with Miss Jenkins’s arm.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what we’re doing here,” she said.
“You think?” Trig called, prompting a few laughs from the group. CeCe pretended not to hear him.
“Betty had some things to say, and she insisted on saying them publicly. She’s the one who rallied everyone to come here. Go on, Betty.”
Miss Jenkins slipped her arm from her friend’s. The lace hem of her baby blue dress swished around her calves as she settled in front of Faith.
“Everyone knows by now that I was the one responsible for vandalizing the shops around town.” She clasped her hands nervously in front of her. “I let my fear get the best of me and did things I’m quite ashamed of.” Red lines forked like spider webs across the whites of her eyes. She spoke to the people on the street like a church mouse campaigning for mayor. Her voice shook like a leaf, but she continued, “My friends have forgiven me, and with time I hope the other shop owners will too.” She turned to Faith, her head dipped in shame. “I feel worst about how all this has hurt you, Faith. I didn’t want to add to any apprehension you had about returning here, but I think I did. I made everything harder on you. I’m so sorry for that, truly sorry.”
Faith stood dumbstruck, glancing from Miss Jenkins to those folks on the street before her gaze landed back on Miss Jenkins. She was apologizing to her in public. This was new.
Faith touched her necklace as a lump rose in the back of her throat.
“I don’t know what to say. You took me by surprise.”
“I hope you won’t judge me based on this past week,” Miss Jenkins said. “I do want you to stay in Roseley. We all do, don’t we?” She held out a shaky hand to the crowd as everyone nodded.
“You didn’t have to do this,” Faith said, unsure how to handle the crowd, the attention or Miss Jenkins, who was about to dissolve into a puddle of tears in front of her. “This isn’t necessary—”
“So you won’t forgive her?” CeCe said, stepping forward to wrap an arm around Miss Jenkins’s shoulders. Faith tipped her head thoughtfully, studying CeCe’s expression. She supposed that question was exactly what she should expect from the busiest of busybodies.
But Faith wouldn’t be influenced by other people’s impressions of herself anymore. She would blaze her own trail and build a new life the way she wanted it to be. That new life would start with forgiveness, of herself and others. She was done holding on to old grudges and meeting her neighbors with hostility. It was time to set those things down here on the sidewalk, finally.
“Of course I forgive you,” Faith answered. “I appreciate your apology. You certainly didn’t have to do it in front of half the town—”
“Yes, I did,” Miss Jenkins quickly said, stepping forward and touching her arm. “Yes, I did.”
Faith nodded, as CeCe held out a black window box, a mailbox similar to the one hanging outside the other shops on the street.
“I need to say something too.” CeCe shook the window box to make Faith accept it. “I haven’t made your life very easy the past week, and I hope you’ll accept this as a token of my—” she cleared her throat as if the words stung like vinegar on her tongue “—apology.”
“I smashed yours,” Faith sputtered. If these two women could clear the record in front of half the town, then so could she. She wanted to, so much. “When I was a teenager, I smashed up your mailbox and I admit that I enjoyed every second of it.”
No one spoke as CeCe stared at her. Faith waited for the stout little woman to yank back the
black box and cry that she’d always known Ray Talbert’s daughter was a criminal, but instead, CeCe burst out laughing. Her voice cackled loudly, startling Miss Jenkins, who clasped a hand to her chest.
“Water under the bridge,” CeCe cried, her cheeks rounding to a rouge. “I probably deserved much worse.”
Angelo stepped forward to hand Faith a basket of mini sandwiches as Caroline hurried forward to hug her.
“I think you’re officially one of the gang,” Caroline whispered as folks began to talk among themselves, taking turns to welcome her to town.
Faith whispered back, “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Glad you decided to stay?”
“Glad I decided to move here in the first place.” Trig took her new mailbox and got to work mounting it outside her shop.
“You belong here, Faith,” Caroline said. “You’ve always belonged here. It just took you a while to find your way home again.”
“I think...I think I do belong here,” Faith admitted, hugging herself as people chatted all around her. For the first time ever, she felt it too.
* * *
TULLY AND SAMANTHA climbed out of the truck, prompting yips from Duke. He barreled through the tall grass and came crashing with excitement into Samantha. She held out her hands to try to stop him, but he only took it as an invitation to play.
“Not on my new shorts, Duke,” she cried but it was too late. Dusty paw prints, one pressed perfectly to each thigh, were Duke’s calling card. His happy tongue waggle had Samantha quickly forgiving him. “Good to see you too, dog breath.” She laughed before pushing him to the ground and petting him on the head. “Has Dad been treating you okay? Think he’ll be happy to see me?”
His sister directed her questions at Duke, but Tully knew her words were meant for him. He’d had to talk her into visiting Dad, and even though she admitted she needed to see him, she hadn’t wanted to.
“Dad?” Tully called, making his way toward the shack. He swatted away mosquitoes, as dense as the humid air they swarmed in.
“I hear ya!” Walter called. He emerged from the nearby trees, but slowed his pace when he saw Samantha. “I wondered when you’d show.”
“Hi, Dad,” she said, her voice now as soft as it had been when she’d been a little girl. “I just got back into town—”
“You’ve been back for days.”
“I’m here now.” She crossed to him and held out a brown paper bag.
“What’s this?”
“Gifts from my travels.”
“What am I supposed to do with souvenirs out here?”
“They’re all things you can use up, don’t worry. I know better than to get you knickknacks.”
Walter peered into the bag before pulling out a box of chocolate-covered caramels.
“I’ll give ’em a try,” he said before shoving them back into the bag.
“They’re delicious,” Tully offered. “Sam gave me a box and it was all I could do not to eat them in one sitting.”
“I said I’ll take ’em.” Tully and Sam exchanged a tense look. “What are you doing back in Michigan?” Walter asked. Samantha removed her sunglasses, channeling nervous energy like she had with her dolls after their mom left.
“I came to see Tully...and you. It’s nice to be home for a little while.”
“A little while? You leaving again?”
She waved her sunglasses around, punctuating her words as she spoke.
“Oh, you know. I need to get on the road soon or I’ll go stir-crazy. There’s so much to see and so little time.”
Walter scowled. “You’re young. You’ve got all the time in the world.”
“Not really,” she said, but Walter had turned his attention to Duke, scratching the dog behind the ears and muttering something like Duke was his only true confidant. Samantha rolled her eyes, noticeably irritated at being ignored. Tully could already hear her complaining now about how she’d come to see him and all he wanted to do was talk to the dog. He hoped she didn’t take the bait, didn’t say something to ignite an argument.
Tully had no sooner opened his mouth to segue the conversation to something pleasant when Samantha boiled over. “How long are you going to stay out here in the middle of nowhere, Dad? It isn’t right, you squatting. You have a perfectly nice house in town with a refrigerator and air conditioner and running water—”
“Did ya come here to visit me or to lecture me? Besides, I don’t need any of that stuff.”
“That stuff? You don’t need running hot and cold water?”
“What’dya bring her out here for?” Walter said, his growing anger now aimed at Tully. “She’s just like your mother, always reaching, never satisfied.”
“Why do you always say things like that?” Samantha said, her own frustration clear. “You’re always coming down on me, but I wasn’t the one who left.”
“That’s enough for today,” Tully said, holding up a steady hand. He knew the problems between Sam and his father wouldn’t be solved in one visit. There was no use getting everybody worked up in this heat.
“You talk to him,” Samantha sighed, turning toward the path. “I’ll be in the truck.”
Tully rested next to his dad on his sitting logs. Walter and Sam had been like oil and vinegar from as far back as Tully could remember. He assumed his dad saw a lot of his mother in Samantha, and he assumed Sam was always, unsuccessfully, trying to prove the old man wrong.
“She’s impossible,” Walter said, scratching Duke on the belly. “You know she is.”
“She’s trying, which is more than I can say for you.”
Walter scowled at him. “I didn’t ask her to come here.”
“No, you left her no choice. You haven’t been home in a long time.”
“Bah.” Walter rummaged through the paper bag, yanking out a handful of chocolate-covered caramels and popping them in his mouth. Tully let him chew for a while and get his hot temper down before continuing. He’d spent a lot of time thinking about what Faith had said to him. He’d thought about how it was time for his dad to come home, and how he was the only person who could really make that happen. The fallout might be hard and possibly ugly, but it had to happen.
“Dad, it’s almost time.”
“For what?”
“It’s almost time for you to come home.”
Walter grunted. “You’ve been hanging around your sister too much.”
“You’ve been spending too much time out here.”
“Says who? You?”
Tully pictured his dad standing on the ledge of a high building. If it were up to him to coax his dad back inside, into safety, it might feel similar to this.
“The town is going to start developing this land. It’s been all over the newspapers for the last year. I won’t have you camped out here blocking the bulldozers in protest.”
Walter chuckled and ran a hand down his face.
“That would be the day.”
“I wouldn’t put it past you.”
“There’s nothing for me in town.”
“There’s a daughter and son who miss you and old friends who ask about you often.”
“I don’t need any friends.”
“I didn’t say you did. I said you belong in town with us.”
“What for? I’m a one-man operation and that’s how I’m going to stay. No use fighting it if that’s what I was always meant to be.”
Tully’s breath caught, recalling how he’d said something rather similar not too long ago to the one woman whom he had ever had deep feelings for.
“You should come home, Dad, before it gets cold. No more winters out here.”
Walter crinkled the brown bag shut and moved to stand. It was his signal that the conversation was over, but Tully wasn’t leaving without making his dad understand. “I�
��ll think about it,” Walter said, making for his shack.
“October.”
“What?”
Tully stood and stared down his father as if he were a hostage negotiator. “You need to come home by October.”
“Who’s the father and who’s the son here?” Walter said, choking out a laugh. “I don’t gotta do anything by October.”
Tully scratched Duke under the chin. The dog thumped his tail heavily on the ground.
“Duke is coming to live with me in October. If you want Duke, you’ll have to follow him home.”
Walter wobbled on his feet. His jaw dropped so low Tully thought he might have to catch it.
“Son...” he said.
“You think about it,” Tully said, motioning to Duke. “I don’t know how we’d explain it to him. I’m sure he’d take it hard.” He patted Duke goodbye and walked to his truck. It was best not to get into an argument with his dad, but he didn’t mind leaving him something to consider. As Walter would do almost anything for Duke, pondering life without the dog might be all the persuasion needed to get his dad back.
“What did you say to him?” Samantha said when Tully climbed into the cab. “When you left, he looked like a kid learning there was no Santa Claus.”
“I gave him some things to think about.”
“That’s all he does these days.”
“I know the feeling.” Tully had spent the last few days thinking about what a fool he’d been. He’d met a woman whom he didn’t want to live without, and he’d convinced her that he worked best alone.
“I heard Miss Jenkins apologized to Faith,” Samantha said as if reading his mind. “I heard the details from folks at The Nutmeg Café.”
“I heard that too.”
“She’s great. I don’t know what your problem is.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. She’s the best thing to happen to you in a very long time. Charlie filled me in on what went down between you two. What’s holding you back from fixing things and you know—”
Her Hometown Detective Page 22
