Norma forced her lips to smile. “Maple spice cake.”
The principal dipped her chin. “Hoping to spice things up, are you?”
Norma tried to chuckle as she followed the well-built woman, only a couple years her junior, into the hallway. Kyanna fumbled with her keys and locked the office door.
“Are Roth and Ariel attending the party with you?” Norma loved that her friend had found romance with one of the single parents. The two had been “an item” since October the previous year.
Kyanna’s lips quirked into a smile. She held the outer door for Norma. “Of course. You are Ariel’s honorary aunt.”
Norma loved the teenagers at the high school. She knew many of them from her first job as an attendance secretary at the Sweet Grove Elementary ten years ago. Her heart pinched. If only the Lord had seen fit to give her babies of her own.
I’m trying not to be ungrateful, Lord.
“She’s a good girl. I’m glad she’s turned things around.” Norma had supervised Ariel Stryker on numerous afternoons while she worked off her detention. When she’d started school in the fall, Ariel had fallen in with a rough crowd, but after a scary attack, she’d distanced herself from them. Finally, the teen formed cozy friendships with a few girls from the First Street Church youth group, but Norma still worried about her.
“She’s a teenage girl, so she has her moments, but Roth is learning to deal with them.”
“With your help.” Norma glanced over, noting the pink in her supervisor’s cheeks that had nothing to do with the early spring sunshine and everything to do with finding love.
Her stomach knotted. She imagined shaking a finger at herself. Rather than envying those who found happiness in middle age, she should be rejoicing with them. Didn’t the Bible say as much?
I’m becoming a bitter old woman.
The pair reached their vehicles. Norma groped for the handle on the old white truck she used so Herman could commute to Austin in the newer sedan.
“Any big plans for tonight?” Norma faced Kyanna, who paused in the open door of her cute Toyota SUV.
“Dinner and movies at Roth’s house later.”
“Have fun.”
Kyanna waved. “See you tomorrow.” She ducked inside the front seat.
Norma waited until Kyanna drove off before opening her own door. The hinges squealed. She tossed her purse onto the bench seat and grasped the handle above the open door. With a push from the ball of her foot, she heaved into the cab, ducking to avoid beaning herself on the door frame. Its cracked rubber lining smoothed along her poofy brunette hair as she settled into her seat.
Her breath hitched in her chest, and she leaned her head back, gasping a few times. Those extra twenty pounds were starting to make a difference in her movements. Was it any wonder her husband couldn’t be bothered to come home except on the weekend?
Norma slammed the door and slid the key into the ignition. She hadn’t been either old nor fat when she’d first suspected he could be stepping out on her. At the time, he’d spent half of every month in the New Mexico office and half in the Austin office. Even once he’d been reassigned full-time to the Texas capital, he only came home on weekends.
You can’t expect a man to go without sex for weeks on end. Her mother’s non-attempt at comforting Norma so many years ago rang in her mind. Norma hadn’t bothered to mention the truth: she gave Herman as much intimacy as he wanted whenever he was home, and he always seemed satisfied.
She feared what drove him into another woman’s arms was the fact that Norma couldn’t get pregnant. They’d planned to fill their home with four children—three boys and a girl. In preparation, she’d never worked an outside job until years of futile attempts hadn’t netted her a full-term pregnancy. Oh, he’d grumbled about her taking a job, but he couldn’t expect her to sit at home with no one to take care of while he lived elsewhere most of the time.
When she turned the key, the engine grated and coughed before roaring to life. Today was Friday, and Herman would come home. She’d filled the Crock-Pot with a whole chicken and a variety of vegetables, and she intended to whip up a batch of dumplings. Cooking was one thing she could do.
Norma worked hard to keep Herman satisfied in every way, and she could still hear her mother goading her when anything slipped. But she couldn’t make a baby grow in her womb.
What would you say to that, Mama?
She cranked the window up so her hair wouldn’t be mussed. Herman wanted his wife looking put together, like the women from those black and white television shows they’d grown up watching.
Everything she struggled to perform perfectly for him could never outweigh the empty rooms in their rambling farmhouse.
Norma stifled a yawn. After twenty-five years, she was tired of trying to please the husband she’d vowed to honor, cherish, and obey for a lifetime.
What happens next?
Don’t wait to find out…
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Read the first chapter of LOVE & ORDER, book 1 of HOLIDAYS IN HALLBROOK…
Garrett clicked the buckle of his harness into place and pulled tightly on the ends of the straps. “Ready for takeoff.” He gave the helicopter pilot a thumbs-up in case he couldn’t hear him over the low hum of the spinning blades and the motor propelling them. Normally, he would just take his own plane for such a short flight, but he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be piloting anything, making this chartered flight an easy decision.
The pilot went through a series of checks with the control tower, and it wasn’t long before the whirring sound increased and the helicopter began to vibrate with the increased power, blocking out any chance of regular conversation. The huge metal bird lifted off from a private section of the airfield. The ground below faded away until New York City became an aerial view of rooftops and skyscrapers all blended together. Garrett let out a deep breath.
The flight from La Guardia to Glen Haven, New Hampshire, the closest private airport with a helipad to Hallbrook, was ninety minutes by helicopter and then a fifteen-minute drive north to the town where he’d spent most of his childhood. It was a trip he would always regret not making more often. The news of his mother’s death had come as a shock, and now, days later, the ache he felt had deepened, spurred on by guilt. He hadn’t even known she was having heart troubles, but then according to Charlie, her friend and solicitor, she hadn’t either. Her heart attack had taken everyone by surprise. It was hard to believe she was gone.
He tamped down on the emotions trying to emerge, finding it easier to focus on what needed to be done. Once he settled his mother’s estate, there would be no reason to return to his hometown, a place he’d left long ago and only manage to visit once or twice a year, much to his mother’s consternation. Work had been his priority for as long as he could remember, and the corporate law offices of Bradley & West were proof of the success he and his best friend and partner, Jim, had achieved as a result of their dedication.
But being rated as the top law firm in Manhattan and in the top twenty nationwide didn’t do a thing to ease the pain of knowing his mother was gone forever, especially since he’d disappointed her by canceling his visit this past summer. The Baden-Hamilton merger had derailed, and the multi-million-dollar deal was his baby, and therefore his responsibility to save. And then one thing after another had popped up, and before he knew it, September was fast rolling in. But for his mother, there would be no September.
Angelica, his sister, had been notified of their mother’s passing through official Naval communication, but as a U.S. Naval officer on a submarine somewhere in the Pacific, there was no telling when she’d be home. Charlie was taking care of their mother’s arrangements per her wishes, and a woman by the name of April St. James was taking care of the house. Charlie had insisted Garrett arrive as soon as possible to deal with
some legal issues. Garrett had cleared his schedule, making sure he could be at the celebration of life to honor his mother on Saturday and could stick around for the reading of her will on Monday.
Luckily, his partner would be able to help Garrett with his caseload while he was out of town. Garrett wasn’t sure where to begin with his mother’s estate. Until he talked to the solicitor and his sister, his hands were tied. He’d have to close up the house until he could sell it. Neither he nor his sister were in a position to live in or manage a country estate. Finding a buyer would be the easy part, selling it…not so much.
The place was filled with mixed memories for him and his sister, mostly because it had been the start of their new life without their father after a bitter divorce. His mother had poured her heart into the place after purchasing it, her love of the land filling her with the determination to make a success of the place. Garrett’s love, however, was for the city. His sister’s love of the sea drove her career in the Navy. They’d been three completely different people on different courses in life.
In no time at all, the pilot landed the chopper in Glen Haven, the closest town to Hallbrook that had a private airstrip. Garrett removed his seatbelt, pushed open the heavy door, and waved his thanks to the pilot. He crouched low as he jogged out from under the air current of the blades and made his way to the waiting limousine.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Bradley. Sorry to hear about your mother. Sarah was a fine lady.” George Bowman owned the limousine service, and he still operated some of the bookings for select customers. He was used to Garrett coming and going, although the visits had been few and far between the past few years.
“Thank you. It came as quite a shock.” His mother had been an integral part of putting Hallbrook on the map. She’d not only managed to raise him and Angelica on her own, but she’d found the time to create a niche for the small town by attracting tourists to the area in search of artisan crafts made by the locals. She’d given up everything for him and his sister, including her marriage and home. And in return, he’d been a horrible son, making business more important than visiting her more often.
“If you’ll drop me at the house, that would be great. It sounds as though I’ve got a lot to do.” Garrett’s guilt factor ramped up another notch.
“Ain’t that the truth.” The man shook his head, putting the car in drive and raising the privacy window. But not before Garrett caught the odd expression peering back at him through the rearview mirror.
Garrett made a mental note of their progress as they got closer to the house.
They passed by several farms, including the largest dairy farm in the state. Old man Peterson’s place. His mother used to treat him to the delicious hand-made ice cream for excellent grades as a reward. His reward, of course, had been getting into Yale and eventually out of Hallbrook.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t appreciated the town, but he’d loved the action of the city. It was the land of opportunity, a place where you could make your mark, other than by winning first prize for the fattest cow at the 4-H fair.
He spotted his old high school, Turlington High. The place where he’d gotten into his first fight with a bully, protecting a girl. They’d dated on and off the first couple of years of high school, but then her interest had turned more toward the high school quarterback and less on the geeky guy who’d preferred to study.
George turned right onto East Main Street as he made his way through town. The closer they got to the center of Hallbrook, the bigger the houses got. Many of the stately Victorian and Colonial homes had been restored to their former glory by the families who’d inherited them. The place hadn’t changed much in the twenty-five years since they’d first moved there, other than the slow growth and addition of businesses and a few more homes. He spotted Sally’s Diner and smiled, remembering the place fondly. For Garrett, the diner was where he had his first date, his first kiss, and the best peach pie in the county.
When they’d moved here, he’d been bored out of his eight-year-old mind and hated the hard-labor and dirty chores that had come with living in the country and his mother owning farmland. He’d dreamed of escaping back to the city. It had driven him to study harder to make that happen. His success as an attorney was proof of the determination, but each time he returned to Hallbrook, he felt a tug in the region of the heart.
They reached the outskirts of town, passing Angie’s corner grocery and gas that had long since closed the gas pumps, the place now a convenience store for many of the locals. Fresh fruits and vegetables were readily available from farms nearby, but the store was filled with a hodgepodge of other endless items crammed into the place.
George slowed, turning right at his mother’s driveway, passing under the stone archway and through the wrought iron gates. The dirt road had been recently recoated with a fresh load of gravel. He spotted the two-story white house seconds before he noticed an unfamiliar dark-blue sedan parked out front. It was an older car that had seen better days, and one Garrett assumed belonged to the woman staying here and taking care of things until he arrived.
George slid the dividing window down. “Here you are, sir. Hope things go well for you.”
“Thanks. Don’t bother to get out. I can handle everything.” He grabbed his travel bag off the seat in front of him, looped his briefcase over his shoulder, and slid out of the car. He stopped to glance around and took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh country air and the scent of blossoming roses. There was no shortage of rose bushes strategically placed all around the house, another of his mother’s passions.
The sun would be setting soon, and the front porch looked inviting as a viewing place for a glorious sunset. His mother had loved the orange-red colors that illuminated the sky with the setting sun, and she’d tried to capture the elusive perfect picture on her favorite camera so many times he’d lost count. Tonight, in honor of his mother, he’d do the same. Sunsets like this didn’t happen in New York City, at least not with rolling farmland as far as the eye could see. His sunsets came complete with skyscrapers, and he’d be back to those in four days. Four short days to take care of business. It was all the time he could afford to be away from the office.
Garrett approached the house, climbing the three wooden steps that led to the front door. He wasn’t sure whether to knock to announce his presence or to simply use his house key. The last thing he wanted to do was scare the poor girl watching over the place. Maybe a combination of both was in order.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
He tried the door handle and discovered it unlocked. Garrett started to push the door open, but it slammed shut, a loud bark coming from inside. He took a step back, unsure of what to do. He wasn’t a fan of dogs, not by any means. The dog’s bark was deep. Big-dog deep. Garrett swallowed hard, his hand automatically going to the scars on his arm, a reminder of a run-in with a not-so-nice canine.
He heard voices on the other side of the door but couldn’t make out what the words over the barking dog. The decision was made for him when the door started to open, and he came face-to-face with three young kids. The boy, who appeared to be the oldest of the three, had a hold on the dog’s collar, keeping the huge brown and white Saint Bernard barely in check as danced, trying to break free from the restraint, slobber dripping to the ground.
“Hi, I’m Garrett Bradley. This is my mother’s house. Are you all here with April St. James?” He addressed the boy, thinking he was the best option for reasonable answers.
“Yup. She’s cooking dinner. Do you need to talk to her?” The young boy stood straight and tall, answering his question as if he were in charge.
“Yes, that would be perfect.” It would be a whole lot better than trying to talk to three kids, something he had zero experience doing as an adult. He was quite surprised Ms. St. James had brought her children and an oversized beast of a dog with her while she watched the house. It was a little unorthodox.
“Melanie, go get her. I’ve got to hold the dog ’cause you’
re too puny to handle him.” The boy spoke to the oldest of the two girls who couldn’t be much more than seven or eight.
“Am not. You get her.” Garrett couldn’t believe this. He shook his head, trying to figure out what to do.
“Hey there, kids. Why are you hanging half in and half out the front door? This isn’t a barn. Shut the door and come back inside.” A feminine voice called out from somewhere behind the children.
“There’s a man here to see you.” The older girl spoke up.
“A man? Oh, good heavens, let him in. It must be Mr. Bradley.” The woman’s voice was soft and yet persuasive.
“That’s what he said. But the dog won’t budge,” the boy spoke up, trying to pull the dog back.
“Come on, Rufus.” The brunette came to his rescue, all barely-over-five feet of her. She wasn’t much of match for the hairy beast, but she did manage to wrestle him back from the door enough for Garrett to step into the foyer.
“Sorry about that.” She beamed at him, her eyes a striking shade of sapphire. She kept hold of the dog, much to his relief.
He nodded. “Thanks. I’m Garrett—”
“Bradley. Yes, we’ve been expecting you. I’m so sorry about your mother.” She glanced at the kids and winced. “Kids, why don’t you head into the kitchen, and I’ll be right in. I need to talk to Mr. Bradley alone for a second.”
The older boy shrugged and left; the others close on his heels. Apparently, they didn’t care who Garrett was.
“Sorry, I don’t like to talk about your mother in front of them. They loved her like a grandmother, and it’s been so upsetting to them. I’m sure you understand.”
“I do. It’s been a shock for everyone, I imagine. I appreciate you stepping in to help keep the house in order and taking care of her horses.” April shot him an odd look, one that disappeared just as quickly as it happened. It was the same look he’d seen on George’s face.
Love's Lingering Doubts (Love's Texas Homecoming Boo 1; First Street Church #9) Page 11
