by Sharon Sala
“Then that’s the one I’m sleeping in,” she said. “I appreciate your offer of the full-size bed, but I think we all agree that you aren’t going to come close to fitting on that other one, and I will, with room to spare.”
“We’ll see,” he said. “If you can prove to me that you won’t fall out in the night, then okay.”
Rowan put her hands on her hips in a sudden gesture of defiance. “I don’t have to prove anything to you, mister. I’m sleeping in that bed or walking back to the nursing home.”
Bowie blinked.
Ella grinned at the look on Bowie’s face and guessed not very many people told him no. “Oh…didn’t we mention our girl Rowan has a mind of her own?”
“No, ma’am, you did not,” Bowie said, and then laughed. “Point taken, Miss Rowan.”
Now that beds were sorted out, he left the suitcase and his girls exclaiming again at the elegant decor and gave Rowan the small sack she’d brought with her.
“Is that all you have?” Bowie asked.
She nodded. “It’s enough. I’ll be getting my daddy’s retirement pension next month. It took a while for the paperwork to go through. I’ll get some more things when I have a place to put them.”
“Then let me show you where the pantry is. It’s well stocked, but after I get the crew started at the house, I’ll come back and take whoever wants to go shopping to the Piggly Wiggly. We’ll stock up on what everybody needs.”
Rowan nodded. “Thank you. I really appreciate your kindness.”
“And I appreciate how you’ve obviously been helping Aunt Ella take care of my gran.”
Rowan shrugged. “It was an easy choice. They are both wonderful women, and I haven’t seen Pearl this happy since I’ve known her. You are a really special grandson to be doing this for them.”
“They helped raise me. They’re all the family I have.”
Before Rowan could respond, Pearl and Ella came back into the living room.
“This is the most wonderful day we’ve had in years,” Pearl said. “You have grown into a fine man, Bowie James. Your mama would be proud.”
“Thanks, Gran. While you three settle in, I’m going to get my crew and take them to the house to begin demo. Poke around to your hearts’ content. I’ll be back later.”
“Do what you have to do,” Gran said. “We’ll be fine.”
“One other thing, Aunt Ella. Did you lose your phone in the flood, too?” Bowie asked.
Ella nodded.
“Then we’ll get you another. I need to be able to keep tabs on you two. Here you were, going through that hurricane, and I was up on a mountain in Tennessee, building my client a fifteen-thousand-square-foot mansion, hardly aware there was even a hurricane, let alone that Blessings was in its path.”
Rowan’s eyes widened. “Did you say ‘fifteen thousand’?”
He grinned. “Yes. It was a monster of a house.”
Then he gave them both a quick goodbye peck on the cheek and Rowan a thumbs-up. He was on the way out the door when he stopped.
“Someone come lock up behind me.”
“I will,” Rowan said.
He closed the door behind him, then drove away as Rowan turned the lock.
“Well now,” Ella said. “I think our Bowie has certainly landed on his feet. I knew he was successful, but I did not know it was at this level.”
“We have a job to do while he’s gone,” Rowan said. “We’re going to the Piggly Wiggly for whatever we need when he comes back. I thought maybe we should make a list.”
* * *
Bowie called his crew chief, Ray Tuttle, on the way and found out they were getting ready to leave.
“I’ll meet up with you in the parking lot. You can follow me to the jobsite.”
“Will do,” Ray said, then disconnected.
“Was that Bowie?” Joe asked.
Ray nodded at his brother. “He’s meeting us outside. Let’s hustle.”
Matt Roller took his last sip of coffee. Presley Smith left the tip. Samuel Hooper had a biscuit in his hand, reluctant to leave it behind, and Walter Adams took off to the restroom. As soon as he was back, the six-man crew trooped through the dining area and paid on the way out. Bowie was already waiting.
They loaded up and followed. He turned off Main Street a couple of blocks later and led them through a neighborhood of old homes, most of which were ranch-style brick or Craftsman style, although there were a few that would once have been considered quite grand.
The closer Bowie came to the turn, the more his heart began to pound. The last time he’d been in this place, his eyes were swollen shut and he’d needed stitches in both his head and his lip, but his mother was too afraid to stay in Blessings to take him to the doctor there and was going to stop in another town. He had two broken ribs and one broken finger from Randall Boone stomping his hand. He’d had so many wounds and contusions that the simple act of getting into the car that night had made him cry out in pain.
He’d heard his Aunt Ella and Gran crying and saying goodbye to him and his mom, but he couldn’t see them, or her. All he knew was that she was sobbing as the car began to move.
When he drove up on the street and signaled a left turn, the hair rose on the back of his neck. Bowie hated that momentary memory of fear, and he reminded himself he was no longer helpless.
I am not that boy. I am a man. I have conquered mountains to do my job. No old man, or the people he bred, have any power over me.
Then he saw the white, single-story house with a big front porch. The last place he’d called home. A sudden spurt of tears blurred his vision, but he quickly blinked them away and began looking at the house from the standpoint of a builder.
She wasn’t in the best of shape and, due to the flood, was wearing what looked like a rusty-red petticoat beneath a white, tattered dress. New siding would fix that. He pulled up to the curb, then jumped out and told his crew to leave the driveway open because he had a roll-off, one of the long, dumpster-style bins, being delivered today. He grabbed a mask from the console, waved it at them to do the same, and then led them to the house.
“So this is it? The house you grew up in?” Ray asked.
Bowie nodded. “Let’s get inside and see what we’re dealing with. The house is bigger than it looks from the street. Four bedrooms, a big kitchen and dining room, a big living room, and a decent-size utility room off the kitchen.”
“How many bathrooms?” Joe asked.
“One. It was built in the late forties. At the time, indoor plumbing was still a luxury,” Bowie said, and got the house key out of his pocket as he walked up onto the porch.
The boards sagged a little from his weight. Definitely needed new decking on the porch. The door stuck when he tried to open it. After he used a little shoulder action, the door broke free, and swung inward.
Bowie groaned. “Lord Almighty, I smell the mold from here. Mask up, guys. This isn’t going to be pretty.”
There was a good inch of Georgia silt on the floors, left behind by the receding flood, and white mold growing on anything made of wood.
“I ordered a roll-off. It should have been here already. Give me a sec to check.”
He stepped back outside and made the call. “This is Bowie James. I’m on site waiting for the first of three roll-off containers to be delivered to an address in Blessings today. Can you give me a heads-up as to when I can expect it?”
He waited a few moments for the clerk to pull up the work order, and then he was back online. “It should already be there,” he said.
“Well, it’s—” Then they all heard a big vehicle shifting gears, and turned in unison. “Oh. Wait. Never mind. The driver is just pulling up,” Bowie said, and disconnected.
After a discussion with the driver as to where Bowie wanted it, it took another fifteen minutes of some fancy
driving for the trucker to get the long container backed up into the driveway and then unhooked.
Bowie signed for the delivery. “You’re based out of Savannah, right?”
“Yes, sir,” the driver said.
“Okay. I have two more of these on order, so do you do same-day pickup and delivery, or next-day?”
“Almost always same-day, unless we’d happen to have a truck down or be short a driver or two for the day.”
“Good enough,” Bowie said. “I’ll probably be calling you soon to pick up and deliver another one, but I’ll know more after we empty out the contents before we begin demo.”
“Just give us a call,” the driver added, and got in his truck and drove away.
“Okay, guys, get at it. And…if you find any secret stashes, do me a favor and save them for me.”
Samuel grinned. “So, you’re saying no finders, keepers here.”
Bowie laughed. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Ray, you’re the ramrod. Call me if you run into any kind of problems. If you find asbestos, or the roof appears to be falling in on top of you. You know the drill.”
“Will do, Boss,” Ray said.
“I have to make sure my family is settling in and pick up some more groceries. Call me if you have a question about anything, and I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Bowie said, and opened up the endgate on the roll-up before he left.
* * *
Peanut Butterman was in his law office working on a brief when the outer door to his office suddenly slammed. He sat there a moment, listening, and heard his secretary, Betty, trying to reason with someone.
“No, that’s not happening,” Peanut muttered, and strode out of his office.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Butterman,” Betty said.
Peanut arched an eyebrow. “For what, Betty? I didn’t hear you shouting.” Then he shifted focus and stared the couple down without saying a word, taking note of the broken nose Emmitt was sporting.
Finally, Emmitt Boone spoke up. “Me and my wife, Tiny, need to hire you.”
“It’s a matter of life and death,” Tiny said. She squeezed out a single tear, then dabbed it before it messed up her makeup.
“Who’s in danger of dying?” Peanut asked.
Tiny continued the explanation. “Papa Boone! He’s too old to be in jail. And my boy, Junior, is too young.”
Both of Peanut’s eyebrows arched. “They’re both in jail?”
Now that they had his attention, Tiny turned on the waterworks.
“My little boy is in jail for hardly any reason at all, and Papa Boone didn’t lay a hand on anyone, and he’s in jail, too.”
Peanut sighed. “Come into my office to discuss this.”
Satisfied they’d gotten what they wanted, Tiny smirked at Betty as they passed her desk.
“Please sit down,” Peanut said, and waited for them to be seated. But instead of sitting in his chair on the other side of his desk, he stood between them and the desk, then leaned against it and crossed his arms.
“First, I want to know why your son is in jail.”
Emmitt shrugged. “He keyed someone’s car.”
“Why would he do that? Didn’t you tell him damaging or destroying other people’s property is against the law?”
“The man broke my poor Emmitt’s nose!” Tiny screeched. “My boy was just upset and felt obliged to seek retribution on his father’s behalf. It says in the Bible, an eye for an eye!”
“Who broke your nose, Emmitt?”
Emmitt shifted nervously. “A man named Bowie James, that’s who.”
Peanut frowned. “Why do I know that name? It seems very familiar,” he said.
Tiny glanced nervously at Emmitt.
“Hang on a second. I’m going to ask Betty. She remembers names better than I do.”
He strode to the door, and then opened it. “Hey, Betty. Does the name Bowie James mean anything to you?”
Betty rolled her eyes. “Well, yes. That’s Pearl James’s grandson. You remember Billie Jo, right?”
And just like that, Peanut got it. “Oh, yes…right. Thank you,” he said, and closed the door before resuming his post. The look he gave both of the Boones was expressionless.
“Regardless of what happened, I am sorry to inform you that I will not be able to represent you regarding either one of your family members. Pearl and Ella James are two of my clients, so that would be a conflict of interest. I’m sure you understand.”
Tiny started to cry, but not genteel tears this time. She turned loose the ugly cry. “My son is going to have to spend the night in jail! I can’t bear it!”
“He’s just paying the price for his crime,” Peanut said. He strode back to the door and opened it wide.
“Get up, Tiny!” Emmett muttered. “You heard him.” Then he grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her feet. He took off out the door without waiting for her, leaving Tiny to pass by Betty’s desk once more, a chastened and weepy mess.
As soon as they were out of the office, Betty unloaded.
“I heard all about it at Granny’s this morning. I don’t know what happened between Emmitt and the James man, but I do know Emmitt wasn’t alone. Everyone is saying he and Mel jumped Bowie when he came out of Granny’s last night. And my friend Julie, who lives out in the trailer park where Bowie James parked his motor home, says Junior Boone keyed Bowie’s car something awful, just before daylight. The car had an alarm, and Bowie heard it and ran Junior down. Tasered him and called the cops. Julie also said it was gonna take thousands of dollars to fix it.
“Then Jud Boone caught Bowie at Granny’s this morning where he’d gone to eat breakfast, and tried to pick a fight with him inside Granny’s. They said Bowie asked Mercy Pittman to call the police, then took Jud by the arm and led him out into the parking lot to keep him from tearing up the place. Only everyone in Granny’s came out to see what was going on. Bowie had Jud subdued, and he was furious. He kept saying he was going to kill Bowie and kept trying to swing at him, but Bowie held him down. The cops came, and when Mercy spoke up for Bowie, Jud subtly threatened her life, too. Deputy Ralph cuffed him, reminded Jud that he’d threatened to kill Bowie, and threatened the police chief’s wife in front of a sworn officer of the law, and that he was going to jail, too. That’s what is going on.”
“All of this happened in less than twenty-four hours?” Peanut asked.
“Yes. And all because Bowie came back to renovate Pearl’s home. It was one of the ones that flooded bad.”
“Good lord,” Peanut muttered. “Looks like I might wind up in the middle of this after all, if they continue to harass the James family.”
Betty sniffed. “At least you’d be on the right side.”
Peanut sighed. “I’ll have that brief ready for you shortly.”
“Yes, sir,” Betty said, and went back to work.
Peanut shut himself in his office.
And Emmitt and Tiny were on their way to Savannah to find a lawyer, with the day fading fast.
* * *
Bowie pulled up at his motor home and got out. He was almost at the steps when he heard a laugh that cut to his core. He knew it was Rowan. He didn’t know what had made her laugh like that, but it was such a joyful belly laugh that he was already grinning when he unlocked the door and walked in.
The trio was sitting at the dining table, playing cards. Ella looked up and waved.
“You’re back! Thank God. We’re playing strip poker, and I’m losing.”
He grinned. His aunt Ella was missing both shoes and her skirt. Luckily for all of them, she still favored slips.
But it was Rowan who startled him most. The quiet, dark-eyed beauty was doubled over with laughter, and every time she looked up at Pearl, she started laughing all over again.
Pearl was blushing. “It’s not funny, missy. Jus
t because you’re still wearing all of your underwear doesn’t mean you shouldn’t worry.”
Rowan couldn’t even look up. She just rolled out of her chair onto the floor, laughing until tears were running down her face.
Pearl slapped the cards she was holding facedown on the table and pointed at Rowan.
“Bowie, take this snippet with you to Piggly Wiggly so we can put our clothes back on. I’ve never played such a game in my life.”
Ella laughed. “Mama, don’t lie. I remember you and Daddy playing this after you put me to bed.”
Pearl gasped and then blushed again. “Well, never mind.”
Rowan groaned. “Oh my God…somebody help me up. I can’t breathe,” she said, and then covered her face.
Bowie couldn’t take his eyes off her…flat on her back on his floor, so gloriously sexy he could hardly think.
“Well, get her up and out of here,” Pearl said, and then hid a grin. Even she was entranced by the unexpected delight.
Bowie moved toward Rowan. When she held up her hand, he grasped her by the wrist, her hand engulfed within his fist, and pulled her upright.
“Thank you,” Rowan said, and then turned loose of him and ran around the table to hug Pearl. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but thank you for the first joy I’ve felt since before the storm.”
Pearl kissed the side of Rowan’s cheek and hugged her back. “I’m happy to have been of service.”
Rowan started giggling again. “I need my shoes. I think I left them in the master bedroom. I’ll be right back,” she said, and bolted toward the back of the motor home.
Bowie was a dedicated bachelor with an image to protect, but they had yet to pass one night under the same roof, and he was already feeling a complication in his life that he didn’t need.
“I’m back,” Rowan said, and snagged their grocery list from the table.
“Then I guess we’re off,” Bowie said. “You sure you two don’t want to come with us?”
Ella shook her head. “I guess we’ll pass. I’m not dressed, and Mama isn’t wearing underwear, so there’s that.”
Rowan was still giggling when she got in the front seat with Bowie and buckled up.
