Moving On (3 page)

Molly pushed at him with her nose. “You’ve got to come with me tomorrow,” Nick told her. “Our guest doesn’t appreciate your charms.”

He turned out the light and pulled the covers up. Molly curled up on the mat beside the bed. Other than the sound of water lapping against the vinyl edge of the pool, nothing had changed in his room since he left to join the Canadian Forces.

In the morning he awoke with the sun just above the horizon. Another day in a string of days he would push through until his father returned and he had his physical endurance evaluation. His future in the army as he knew it was in jeopardy.

There would always be a place for him and his expertise, but he wanted to return to the desert, helping bring peace to Afghanistan.

Chapter 3

The twittering chatter of birds as they began their day woke Anna. She listened to their different songs and wondered what they meant.
Hey, I found string to hold the nest together. Get out of here. Mud’s better.
That’s what she needed to do—find the pieces to make a home.

She stretched the full length of her five-foot-nine frame and curled her arms around the canopy posts. She had slept deeply. The blankets were almost as straight as when she crawled under them instead of wrapped around her legs and twisted into her belly.

A tantalizing coffee aroma tempted her, but she waited for retreating footsteps before opening the door. This might not be her host’s day job, but she felt like a princess when she found a tray laden with coffee, milk, sugar, muffins, butter, preserves, and a china mug and plate. She brought in her breakfast and watched through the gauze drapery as dust flew up behind the tailgate of a red half-ton heading down the road toward town.

She could easily indulge herself another day in these surroundings.
No, it’s time to build my own castle where I’ll be a benevolent queen, but not too generous.
In her new life, she would be selfish, self-caring. Her new friends would like her for herself, rather than the provider of health care advice at any time of the day or night, or the guitar wielding songster at birthday parties and funerals. Or the moneylender of the past.

After a long, luxurious shower, she shook out her hair. When she tugged at the ends with her fingers, she felt some of the chemical curl relaxing.

She locked the door as per the instructions and walked straight and tall to the car. Nick must have taken Molly.

Driving back into town, the baritone news anchor announced the national news at the top of the hour. The town office was open and she wanted to be first in line with her request. She needed her own style of cleaning; air scented with her lavender candles and jazz sounds filling the rooms to create her home. If she had water, she could stay home tonight rather than be a guest of the distant, gorgeous, temporary host of the Donnelly B&B. The man did block out the sun, on one leg or two.

She hurried to catch the petite woman working on the lock of the door. When it swung open, Anna followed her into the nerve center of Regina Beach. ‘J. Kipfer,’ as the brass plate indicated, positioned her half glasses on her nose and with efficient movements and a practiced smile, asked, “Can I help you?”

“Yes, please.” Anna held out her hand. “Anna Jenkins. I’m moving into 400 Green Avenue. I arrived late yesterday afternoon without realizing I had to make arrangements to have the water turned on. I’d like to do that now.”

“One moment, please. You said 400 Green Avenue.”

“Correct.”

“It seems we have a mailing address to a lawyer’s office. Yes, here it is.” Her quick brown eyes breached the top of her reading glasses as she skimmed the information flashing on the computer screen.

“I’m the beneficiary of Mr. Good’s will,” Anna said.

“Do you have proof of ownership?” The clerk cocked her head and raised her eyebrows.

“Yes. I have a letter.” She opened her purse and passed it to J. Kipfer.

“Strange. I don’t remember anyone named Jenkins in the Good family. You must be way down the list or something.” The woman’s nostrils flared as she handed the paper back.

Anna could have explained, but she kept repeating her mantra—
self-care
—in her mind. Instead, she smiled.

“Just the water? Have you made arrangements for the power and telephone?”

“No. I’m new at all this. I should have done more research, but sometimes you’ve just got to jump in and start. Can you understand that?”

“Of course. That’s why I’m here.” J. Kipfer dialed her phone. “Nick, are you busy?”

A deep, rolling voice thundered over the speakerphone. “Yes, sweet thing. What can I do for you?”

“Nick, stop fooling around.”

“Your wish is my command. What’s up?”

“I have a woman in my office who would like the water turned on at the old Good place. Can you fit it into your schedule today?”

Engine sounds throbbed through the room. “Sure. I’m driving over to that side of town in about five minutes to check a water sample. Can she be there by then?”

Anna smiled and nodded. It felt good to be on the periphery of such a teasing voice.

“She says yes. Have you seen Hank around with the power truck?”

“He’ll be in later today to locate gas lines.”

Is that a bark in the background? Of course, Nick is probably a very common name.

“Great. We’ll take care of the power, too. Good bye.”

“Whoa there, boss.”

J. Kipfer straightened, pen poised. “Yes, what is it?”

“Tell the lady not to hurry. I’ll look in on Herman and make sure he’s not doing too much after his surgery.”

“When Jim worked here, there was a lot less jabbering,” she commented.

“Not to worry, I’m sure you will find someone just like him and then everything will run the same as before.”

“From your lips.”

“Later,” he replied, and Anna heard a click from the speaker.

Without bothering to look up another number, J. Kipfer dialed quickly. While she waited, Anna caught sight of a town map with all of the street names. She ran her finger along Center, the main street, until she found Green Avenue and followed it to the block with her address.

There it was. She would occupy property permanently marked on a map. Regina Beach wasn’t very large. Its dimensions were a mile on either side of Center Street and only one-half mile from the highway where she came into town, to the edge of the lake. She would be part of a community that made up a small dot on a long lake.

Anna turned back to the clerk when she heard the receiver placed back into the cradle. “Everything seems to be in order, Ms. Jenkins.”

“Call me Anna, please. Thank you for all of your help.”

“Welcome to Regina Beach. If we can do anything, please call or drop in during business hours.”

“Thank you, Ms. Kipfer.”

Anna allowed the little skip in her step on the way to her car, and drove the posted speed limit. Yet it felt as if she was crawling along the streets. She returned a wave from a man in a plaid shirt digging in his garden. Slower moving got things accomplished. In Toronto, she would still be caught up with inboxes and forms for another week. Hmm, maybe breakfast at her door every morning for a week and sitting on a porch and listening to birds and golfers having a good time could have had benefits.

Since it wasn’t far from one part of town to the other, she’d probably see the temporary B&B host around. No, she wouldn’t think about what caused his amputation or what he did. If questions about her life before she moved here were off limits, then she didn’t have a right to ask about his. Besides, conversations always turned back to the questioner, and Anna wasn’t going to answer for a while.

With the morning sun dappled through the trees, the house looked welcoming. She opened her hatchback and pulled the largest piece of luggage to the ground, then extended the handle and bounced it up the steps to the back door.

Anna dropped the key when booming, contagious laughter rumbled over the hedge. Mrs. Lamb’s giggle followed. The catching, vicarious fun rippled through the air.

Nick’s white teeth flashed against his tanned complexion as he strolled confidently toward her. His black hair revealed indigo streaks from the morning sun. He wore blue bib overalls, a T-shirt and black work boots. The calluses on his palm flashed as he thumbed at the tears that pooled in the laugh lines of his face.

Mrs. Lamb was on his heels. “I told Herman I’m checking with the doctor. Some of the most outrageous things have been coming out of his mouth since his surgery and the new medication.”

Nick’s merriment gave one last shudder as he stepped forward, extended his hand, and introduced himself to her once again. “Nick Donnelly, temporary town foreman.”

Anna reached for his hand and held the firm grip, basking in the feeling of transferred mirth. Her smile spread widely. “Anna Jenkins, permanent resident.”

She felt a tiny affinity with this man who appeared whole, no missing limbs apparent, his challenge hidden. He loosened his grip. “I have a work order to turn on the water.”

“Yes, please.” She released his hand. “What do I have to do?”

“I’ll check for split lines or a cracked hot water heater first. John, the previous owner, was thorough. The water pipes should be fine.”

“This is valuable information. Thank you.” Anna bit her lip. Murray had been thorough, too. All of her life she’d been forthright, but Murray’s death did strange things to her personality, or so the grief counselors explained. Maybe this really was her. Secretive. She’d learned to keep confidential information while she worked at the hospital. Just once when she was new to the profession, she gave out information to someone who wasn’t on the family list. She’d worried for weeks if the hospital would be sued because of her blunder.

“Coming?” he called as he turned his back.

She trailed behind the black T-shirt down some steps and watched it ripple and pull as Nick stretched and turned. Her mind wondered where this man’s ability to share rolling, rocking, wide, open-mouth mirth came from. His loss wasn’t any laughing matter.

“Ms. Jenkins, we’re ready to go.”

“Huh?”

“Go upstairs and open all of the taps. When they stop spitting and sputtering, turn them off.”

Anna retreated up the stairs before he turned and caught her staring at his back like someone who had been awoken in the middle of a dream. The pipes in the kitchen and bathroom pulsed when the valve was opened. She rushed from the kitchen to the bathroom and with her hand on the taps, felt the vibration stop. She pushed her wet hand over her heated cheeks and through her hair. When she looked up, his brown eyes were scrutinizing her actions.

She found herself shouting, “Everything’s under control.” Her tongue searched her dry mouth for a drop of saliva.

He stepped back and allowed her to pass. When she turned and looked around over his left shoulder, the stripped bed caught her attention. She stumbled against the wall. Nick reached out and touched her shoulder. They both jumped when static electricity arced between their bodies.

“I need a drink of that water. The air is so dry here.” Anna sank into a chair.

“I know dry. Without water, everything shrivels up and dies,” he said quietly as he handed her a glass. She drank deeply as if she’d been running a marathon and suddenly someone passed her a much-needed drink.

“Thank you.” Her thoughts froze when his calloused thumb gently lifted a drop of water as it trickled from the corner of her lip.

His palm seemed to caress her cheek. “You must have been close to John.”

She grasped his interpretation and shrugged
. Keep your counsel. Just button your lip
. It would be so easy to retreat back into the black hole and tell all. She needed this house rooted in the community to provide her with sustenance to go on and extend her branches into a new life.

Anna focused on his black boots planted firmly on the white tile. They were like stepping stones in snow. The longer she looked down, the more his feet shuffled.

His phone rang and broke her stare. “Nick here.”

She was drawn to the large windows that revealed small waves washing onto the shore while his voice rose and fell in the background. She jumped when he spoke from behind her. “Looks like you’ve got a big job to make this old man’s house a place you’d want to live.” He had picked up a ship in a bottle and held it to the light.

She stood with determined confidence. “They say work is good therapy.” She felt a pang of intuitive kinship with him again, and smiled. “Do you ever wonder if
they
really know what
they
are talking about?”

Nick raised his hand and gently touched the side of her face, turning it toward him. He looked deep into her eyes as if searching for recognition. “Yeah,
they’re
probably just a bunch of clowns who think up Pollyanna sayings to make us feel better about our lives.”

She would have returned that gentle touch in a moment of shared intimacy, if his stance hadn’t changed. He shifted away from her as if he sensed danger. Nick pivoted on his rubber-soled boots and almost leapt through the door. The moment was thick with uncertainty.

She caught a chuckle that ended up more of a snort. They were like two wounded animals who suddenly found themselves in the same pen, wondering who was stronger and would survive. Surely she wasn’t attracted to Nick Donnelly just because they were both grieving their severed pasts.

Anna had been put on probation during her nurse’s training because she couldn’t control her empathy. She was not going to sacrifice the dike she’d built just because of a handsome man. She was moving on. She hoped he had, as well. If he could be positive and productive in this town, then there might be hope for her, too.

She hung her black pants, gray jacket and blouse in the closet. In her jeans and T-shirt she felt as if the very tight restraints she had lived with were loosening. Going through the linen closet, Anna found everything she needed. She bundled the sheets, pillows, and blankets on the deck and headed through the hedge to ask about the nearest laundromat.

Herman was filling his hummingbird feeders and looked up with a smile. “So, what did you think of our Nick?”

“He seems to know his work for being temporary foreman and temporary B and B host.”

“Now that’s something you can take to the bank—a man who works with his hands and has brains too,” Herman said.

Anna remembered his calloused fingers framing her face, holding her hand. She shivered. “I came to ask you if there was a laundromat in town.”

“Top of the hill, girlie. Need any help?”

“No thanks. I’m stronger than I look.” She flexed her arms like a body builder showing off her biceps. “Oh, I forgot,” she added. “I have to wait for the power person to come.”

Herman sat heavily in the chair in the shade. “I’ll keep an eye out for Hank. He’s been on the job for years and if there’s a problem, he’ll find you. Can’t get too lost in this town, especially a new woman and pretty to boot! You should have heard the tongues clattering on coffee row this morning.”