Page 5
Story: Cold Case, Warm Hearts
CHAPTER FIVE
G arrett had witnessed Bart Bradley grousing and grumbling his way through life, but he’d never seen the man be outright rude.
What in the world could Aspen’s mother have done to elicit that much animosity? And so many years after the fact? He’d ask Uncle Dean. He and Aunt Deborah had been in town all their lives. Surely, if there was some scandal involving Aspen’s family, they’d know about it.
Except… he’d been right when he’d told Aspen it wasn’t his business. He had no right to go behind her back or to encourage people to gossip about her family just to satisfy his own curiosity.
He wouldn’t. He’d do his job and make no effort to learn her secrets. If she wanted to tell him anything, he’d be a willing listener. And an ally that, based on the confrontation with Bradley, she might need.
He’d excused himself to use the restroom and was on his way back to the table when he caught sight of more than one person sneaking glances at Aspen. He could only see the back of her head, but she seemed to be looking down. Maybe oblivious.
Maybe avoiding their eyes.
He glared at an older guy who attended his church and kept glaring until the man turned his way. He seemed embarrassed to have been caught staring.
Aspen was beautiful, but he didn’t see admiration in the guy’s eyes. Curiosity, maybe. But also animosity.
Why?
Did she feel it in the room? Did she know?
He slid into the booth across from her, and she glanced up from her phone. Her skin was pale, her countenance almost…sad. “Everything okay?”
She seemed to force a smile. “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”
Should he mention what he’d seen? Or let it go.
The server delivered their meals, asked if they needed anything else, and then walked away.
“Want me to say grace?” he asked.
Her eyes brightened considerably. “That’d be nice.”
He squelched the desire to reach across the table and take her hand and bowed his head. He prayed not just for God to bless their food, but for Him to lead both of them as they planned the renovations. And then, thinking of the people who were likely watching them, he prayed for Aspen’s peace and protection. Though he had no idea what was going on, he figured she’d appreciate the first and feared she’d need the second.
After his amen, she looked up with a shy smile. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” He grabbed a fried scallop, dipped it in tartar sauce, and popped it in his mouth.
After she tasted her meal, he said, “How is it?”
“Delicious. Yours?”
“Great. Do you want to try something?”
“Oh, that’s okay.”
He scooted his plate closer to her and pointed at the items. “Shrimp, scallops, cod, and onion rings. Help yourself.”
“I’m guessing you could eat all that by yourself, especially after all the shoveling this morning.”
“I don’t mind sharing.”
She chose a scallop. “That’s really good.”
“Anything else you want to try?”
“That’s all right. I’ll know what to order next time.” And then her expression dimmed. “Maybe I’ll get takeout.”
So she had noticed the people staring.
He usually loved this little town, but at that moment, he felt like giving the whole room a piece of his mind.
Rather than asking the questions hovering between them, he said, “You’ve seen the house. What do you think?”
“It’s in better shape than I thought it would be.”
Better shape? What had she expected? “What’s your goal for the property?”
She shrugged. “Fix it up and sell it.”
“Do you have a deadline?”
She swallowed her spoonful of soup. “Not a specific date. And I assume that, if I decide to leave town, you could continue the renovations without me.”
“Of course. The time difference will make it harder, but we can figure it out. How many hours behind is Hawaii?”
“I’m not going back to Hawaii, not right away.”
“Oh. Where are you going?”
She shrugged. “I have grandparents in Florida, so I’m planning to go there.”
“I’m sure they’d like that.”
“I don’t know them very well. We never visited them, and they only came to Hawaii a few times when I was growing up. But since they’re the only family I keep in touch with…”
“You could stay here.”
She laughed, the sound musical. The flash of amusement transformed her face. Wow, she was a looker. Not that he was interested. No sense getting involved with somebody who clearly had no desire to stick around.
“I don’t think I could get used to the weather,” she said. “I’m a beach girl. A surfer and swimmer. What would I do here?”
“I’m guessing that, if you can surf, you can ski. And the lakes are beautiful in the summer.”
“And cold.”
True. Why would she choose to live in the mountains in New Hampshire when she could go anywhere in the country? The world, really.
He tamped down a surge of disappointment. He barely knew this woman. Why did he care where she lived? “What would you do in Florida?”
“I’ve always wanted to get a college degree.”
“In what?”
“Probably hospitality. I always thought I’d work for Dad, so I never really let myself think about what else I want to do.”
“That’s a good job, though.”
“Working with my father was great. But dealing with tourists and servers and cooks and suppliers… It has its challenges.”
“What do you love?”
She seemed to consider the question for a few moments. He ate a few bites of his lunch while she thought.
“I’ve been volunteering at my church since I was in high school,” she said, “and I love that. Working with the kids and mentoring teenagers. I used to help run an internship for teens and young adults—sixteen to twenty-two. It was an amazing program that pulled them into the church, made them feel a part of it. I’d love to do something like that for a job, but I wouldn’t even know how to get started.”
“That sounds like a great dream,” he said. “I used to think that God’s will for me was probably something I’d hate. I’ve since learned that God gave me gifts and talents and dreams not to torture me or discourage me but to use in His kingdom. Not that remodeling people’s houses is akin to mentoring young people in their faith, but?—”
“But it’s important. You can serve God in whatever you do by glorifying Him and doing your best.”
He admired her faith, especially considering her situation. Most of the trials Garrett had faced had been the result of his own stupid choices. But hers—her mother missing almost all her life, losing her father. Even now, being judged by a bunch of strangers because of who her parents were. None of that was her fault, yet she seemed to face it all with faith and dignity.
Impressive.
He might have looked at her too long because she lowered her head and lifted her spoon.
He wanted to ask her questions, to learn more about her. But when she said nothing else, he shifted back to the reason for their lunch. “I assume you want to get as much money as you can out of the house.”
“I guess.”
“Do you need the cash from the sale right away?”
“I have enough to live on for a while, and I can support myself. I’ll use the money for college, but I’m not starting until fall. I need to be there by May.”
“Why, if school doesn’t start until August?”
“That gives me three full months to get a job, find a place to live, and buy everything I’ll need to live there. I’ll also need to find a church and hopefully get involved. I assume it’s harder to judge churches in the summer, with so many people gone, so I’ll need time to evaluate the different options. Three months should do it.”
She’d put a lot of thought into that answer. He glanced at the notebook she’d barely looked up from since she’d first stepped into the house. What other plans had she laid out in that thing?
“If the renovation takes longer, though,” he said, “will it be a big deal? What would happen if you didn’t make it to Florida until June?”
“The plan is May,” she said, as if that settled it.
Why did it matter so much that she stick to her plan?
More importantly, what difference did it make to him? “What’s your budget?”
“I took out a home equity loan on the house. The lawyer here, Mr. Christiansen, suggested I get the loan for a hundred and fifty thousand, so that’s what I did. Not that I want to spend that much, but I know renovations can be expensive. Do you think we can do it for that price?”
“Depends on what you want to do, of course.”
“I figure that, without more money, I won’t be able to do more than just the cosmetic stuff we talked about today, especially if we have to replace the furnace.” She flipped the notebook to a different page. “I did some research before I left Hawaii. Based on that and what we saw today, I figure we can get by with the basics.” She read off a list—floors, walls, countertops. “And then there’s the furnace. What will that cost? I’m guessing ten to twenty thousand, right?”
“Uh, ten at the most, and that’s assuming it can’t be repaired.”
“Oh.” Her eyes brightened. “Really?”
He allowed a little chuckle. “I have a feeling Hawaii is more expensive than New Hampshire.”
“So this stuff on my list, what will that cost, and how long will it take? I have some things I need to do while I’m in Coventry, things related to my parents. Hopefully, you can get it finished up while I’m here.”
“What kinds of things? I mean…” He shook his head quickly. “I’ve been told I ask too many personal questions.”
She glanced past him toward the other diners. The place had filled for lunch, and he wondered if anybody else had noticed her. She pushed the notebook aside. “As you already know, my parents have history here. My dad would never talk about what happened before my mother disappeared or why he left New Hampshire. But before he died, he said some things that made me think I might be able to get answers here—at the house, actually. I want to learn what I can, and once I do, I imagine I’ll be ready to leave.” She lowered her voice and leaned toward him. “Considering the reception I’m getting, I don’t feel exactly welcome.”
He hated that he couldn’t disagree. “You must look a lot like your mom.”
“Yeah.” The admission seemed troubling to her. “I just hope looks are the only thing we have in common.”
He didn’t ask the obvious question and was thankful when Aspen continued.
“Mom had some mental health problems. Significant problems.”
“That doesn’t explain why people would treat you with animosity.”
“There’s a lot I don’t understand. I hope to, and when I learn what I came to learn, I want to leave, move on with my life without all the unanswered questions—and the glares from strangers.”
While he’d dreamed of creating a beautiful mountain retreat, all she wanted was to get answers about her parents and get out of town.
But he didn’t want her to miss out on what her house could be.
And, selfishly, he wanted to transform it, make it something he’d be proud to show off, something that would help him grow his business.
He sent up a quick prayer for wisdom while he ate a few bites of his lunch.
After a sip of water, he said, “How about I draw up two plans, one with the bare bones updates, the things on your list”—he nodded to the notebook as if paying it respect—“and one that incorporates the ideas I mentioned this morning. Tomorrow, we can get together, and you can decide what you want to do.”
“I don’t want you to waste your time. I’m really not open to doing anything too aggressive or time-consuming.”
“I’m just getting started in this business. It’ll be good practice for me.” And maybe, if he did his job well, he’d be able to convince her to do it his way.
Back at the house, Garrett crouched beside Aspen in front of the fireplace. The temperature had dropped outside, and the living room was chilly even to him. Hopefully, this would keep it warm until he could get the furnace serviced.
“It’s not that different from starting a fire outside.” He’d stopped on the way to buy a couple of newspapers and now ripped one section into long strips. “You need something that will light easily. I’ve always used newspaper. Some people buy kindling, but there are enough twigs and brush in the woods that I’ve never seen the need.” He covered the rack with paper, then added some kindling he’d brought in when he’d delivered the wood. He added the smallest split logs from the pile.
She turned to him, a slight smile on her face. “This part I get,” she said. “I have made my share of fires.”
“Sorry. I don’t mean to…what do they call it? ‘Mansplain?’”
She chuckled. “I get the feeling you’re going to be explaining a lot of things to me before our work together is finished, considering I know nothing about living in a place like this, or about renovations, for that matter. I’ll try hard not to be offended if you’ll try hard not to laugh at my ignorance.”
“I’m not making that promise.” He turned her way and winked. “Laughing is good for the soul.”
“In that case, I’ll do my best to amuse you.”
“I don’t think you’ll have to try that hard.” He nudged her shoulder with his, immediately regretting the familiar gesture. She was his client. He needed to keep that in mind.
But he felt a weird kinship with her, as if they’d known each other for years, not hours. She was beautiful, but it wasn’t that. There was a connection there. And after Bradley’s attack, Garrett had wanted to protect her. Still did, now that he thought about it.
Which maybe explained why he was crouched on the floor building her a fire. Definitely not a normal part of his general contracting duties.
He showed her how to open the flue, then heat up the chimney so the cold air wouldn’t sink. Then he lit the paper.
The fire blazed to life.
They watched it for a few minutes. He grabbed the poker from the fireplace tools left by some past occupant and adjusted the logs to help them burn. When they’d caught and he was certain they weren’t about to go out, he put the fireplace screen back where it belonged.
He stood and brushed off his hands. “The wood here”—he nodded to the pile he’d left on the hearth—“ought to last you all night. Do you want me to bring you a rick of split wood tomorrow?” Another one of his winter income sources.
“Is that a lot?”
“More than enough to last you a month or so.”
“If you could, that’d be great.”
He told her how much it would cost, and she laughed. “A small price to pay to not freeze to death.”
How could she seem so happy? She should be jet-lagged, grieving, and frustrated at the rude customers at The Patriot. Not to mention creeped out by the history of her house. Instead, she was smiling and laughing as if all were well in the world.
Her smile faded. “So, anyway…”
He’d been staring. “Yeah… My friends should be here any minute.” He’d called Reid, Thomas, and Fitz from the car while Aspen was in the hotel, gathering her things and checking out. Fitz, a police detective in Plymouth, was on duty, but Reid worked from home and Thomas was off. They both said they’d be happy to help. “I’m glad you decided to stay here. No sense staying in town when you have this big place all to yourself.”
She shuddered. “I’d be more comfortable in town than in this big secluded place, but I’d rather not spend the money on the hotel if I can help it. Since there’s furniture and something that sort of passes for heat…”
He chuckled. “You’ll be warm enough. I’ll take your suitcase upstairs.”
“Thanks. I’ll put away the groceries.”
When they’d left the hotel, she’d said she’d go back to town later to buy what she needed, but he swung by the little store so she wouldn’t have to. It was supposed to snow that evening, and he didn’t want her driving in it just to pick up dinner.
Come to think of it… “I bet I can find you a kitchen table. Nothing fancy, but at least you could sit to eat.”
“Don’t go to any trouble.”
“Are you planning to buy furniture?”
She gazed around the empty space. “I’ll need to.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
By the time he’d carried her suitcases upstairs, his friends were at the door. He let them in and introduced them to Aspen.
Reid was tall and fit and some might say handsome, but he was happily married.
Thomas, on the other hand, was a bachelor. Successful and confident and charming, not to mention good looking, the guy volunteered for the fire department and search-and-rescue. He kept himself physically fit as if those were his day jobs. Everybody in town liked Thomas. He eyed Aspen a little too closely and with a little too much admiration.
The feeling that rose in Garrett was so unfamiliar, he almost didn’t recognize what it was—possessiveness. Idiotic, considering he had no claim on her at all.
Still, as Aspen chatted with Thomas, Garrett barely resisted the urge to tell his friend that she was off limits.
When Garrett forced himself to quit staring at the two of them, he saw that Reid was watching him, a little too much amusement in his eyes.
He ignored his friend. “Let’s get to work so we can get out of Aspen’s hair.”
“Right behind you,” Thomas said. To Aspen, he added, “Be right back.”
Before she responded, Garrett snapped, “Let’s go,” and stalked to the basement door.
Together, the three of them carried one of the twin beds and mattress—she insisted she didn’t need both—to the master bedroom. They also took up the nightstand and the bureau. She’d put the bedding in the wash, and Garrett almost asked her if she’d like him to stay until it was finished. Knowing what had happened in the basement, he hated to think of her down there by herself.
But this was her house, and she was an adult. She didn’t seem like the type of woman to run scared from a creepy basement.
In the junk room on the second floor—that was what he’d been calling the bedroom where he’d stored everything he’d found—he and his buddies located some pots and pans and plates, utensils and glasses and cups, and brought them to the kitchen.
“That ought to tide you over,” Garrett said, setting the items on the counter.
She looked up from where she was scouring the kitchen sink. “Those are perfect. Thank you.” Her gaze moved to Reid and Thomas. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me out.”
“A friend of Garrett’s is a friend of ours,” Thomas said.
Garrett managed to not glare at him.
Reid said, “I hope you’ll join us at church Sunday. I’m sure my wife would like to meet you.”
“I’ll be there. I’m looking forward to it.”
“You need anything else?” Garrett asked.
She scanned the kitchen. “Nope. Thanks to you, I’m good for now.”
“If you think of anything, don’t hesitate to call. Otherwise, I’ll get back to you when I have those plans drawn up. Probably tomorrow morning.”
She walked them to the door, they said their goodbyes, and Garrett reluctantly followed his friends out.
In the driveway, Garrett said, “Thanks for your help. Now she’ll be able to stay here instead of the hotel.”
“It’s nice to get out of the house.” Reid glanced at his watch. “But I need to get back to town. It’s almost time to pick up Ella from dance.”
As Reid opened the door of his SUV, Thomas glanced at the house. “So you two, uh…?”
“We just met.” Garrett hoped his words sounded casual, even if he felt something completely different.
Thomas turned to him. “I get it, man. I’ll keep my distance.”
“What? I didn’t say?—”
“Your feelings are so obvious, they might as well be tattooed on your face.”
“I have no feelings for her.” None that made sense, anyway. “And besides, she’s only staying temporarily.”
Thomas glanced at Reid, who tapped his watch. “So was Jacqui. Oh, and Carly.” Thomas referred to Reid’s and Braden’s wives. “And even Grace?—”
“You’d better go,” Garrett said. “Reid’ll kill you if he’s late picking up his daughter.”
Thomas chuckled. “Just saying…” He rounded Reid’s car and climbed in.
When Garrett was alone in the driveway, he glanced at Aspen’s front door. She’d be fine by herself. She had food, she had heat. Still, as he walked to his pickup, thinking of the looks from the customers—and Bart Bradley’s comments at lunch—he lifted a prayer for her safety and protection.
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