Smitten Book Club (5 page)

Men do not appreciate women who are constantly in histrionics. Modulate your emotions, and always speak in a calm tone.

P
EARL
C
HAMBERS
,
The Gentlewoman’s Guide to Love and Courtship

CHAPTER FOUR

P
aul lifted a tree branch out of Heather’s way. “Sorry, this is a mess.” The last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt.

“A mess” didn’t quite sum it up. The recent storm had left tree litter everywhere, and the farmhouse had some missing shingles. The barn was more weathered gray than red, and the white-on-green shingles spelling out an advertisement for Smitten Creamery were faded. He’d found a raccoon in the attic yesterday and had called the extermination place. The screens were missing from the back porch, and the shrubs rambled out of their beds.

He glanced at Heather, then looked away. The sunlight gleamed on her blond hair, and her blue eyes matched the sky overhead. She was way too beautiful for his peace of mind, now that he knew she’d married while he was away. “It isn’t doing anyone any good going to wrack and ruin out here.”

Charlie tugged his hand from Heather’s and ran to climb on the old swing set in the side yard. The Bristols were friends of Paul’s great-aunt Rose, and he remembered playing on that swing set with his sisters when they were kids. It was crumbling into rust now from age.

“That’s not safe,” Paul said, and intercepted the little boy, who squirmed in his arms. He’d design a wooden play area, maybe a pirate ship or something here for the kids.

Heather wore a dreamy expression. “I’ve always loved this place. The building is really old, you know. Late 1700s.” She shaded her eyes to stare out at the rolling hills, still brown from the blanket of winter snow. The trees in the distance weren’t budding yet, so the landscape was barren. “It’s wonderful to have fallow ground to work with. It’s had a chance to rest and recover from the chemicals used in the past.”

Mud clung to Paul’s boots as he followed her a few feet into the field where stubble from a corn crop still mixed with the remnants of knee-high weeds. “What would you do with it?”

She contemplated a moment. “I know this will sound random, but if we put up a hoop house, we could grow organic ginger. It commands a premium price. And I’d love to see us establish a blueberry farm. The soil pH should be perfect, but we need to test it.”

“Blueberries. I thought we’d grow things like cucumbers, watermelon, green beans, peas. You know, the normal sorts of things.”

Her eyes sparkled when she turned toward him. “Everyone does that. This is prime blueberry land.”

“You’re the boss.”

She lifted a brow. “I highly doubt it.” Shading her eyes,
she stared toward the house. “How soon are you getting someone in to fix up the house before it falls down? The barn too. We’ll need it for storing supplies. I’d like to see us have a few cows, maybe even a horse. The manure will be beneficial to the land.”

“Whoa, hold on. One thing at a time.”

Smiling, she started back toward the house. “Can we go in? It’s been ages since I’ve been in there. I want to show Charlie.” She motioned to her son, who was still digging in the dirt with his dump truck. “Charlie, want to see the barn and house?”

The little boy nodded and ran toward them. He still had a toddler’s figure with a round belly and chubby legs. Cute little guy. Instead of running to his mother, he stopped and looked up at Paul. After a moment he held up his arms.

Paul glanced at Heather, then scooped him up. “Want to ride on my shoulders?” When Charlie nodded, he lifted him into place. “Hang on to my hair.” The child’s small fingers wound into Paul’s thick thatch, and he winced. “Feels like you’ve got a tight grip there.”

He stepped onto the low porch. “Looks solid. Just needs paint.” The screen door hung off one hinge. He opened it out of the way and inserted the key into the lock. He had to finagle it before the lock clicked and he could open the door. Paul wrinkled his nose at the rush of stale air.

“It’s stinky,” Charlie said.

“Sure is.” Paul stepped across the threshold.

Heather followed him, and she stepped to the center of the room and twirled, a ballerina in jeans. “I just love this house! There’s so much history here. I can imagine the
people who built it. Look at the low ceilings and the beams. It’s got character.”

To him it had always been an old farmhouse with nothing special to recommend it, but he looked at it through clearer eyes now. “Look at these wide pine floors.”

She nodded. “You’d never be able to match them with current wood.”

He glanced through the fly-spattered window. The real plaster walls rolled like the hills outside, but they made the place feel homey. There was a ton of old furniture sitting around, and even more, he knew, in the overstuffed attic. And more stuff in the barns.

She trailed a finger on the coffee table. “Lovely piece with good bones. Looks like an old chest from the Civil War. We might be able to use it in the new décor.”

He warmed at the communal
we
.

She looked around with admiration. “I could do so much with this place.”

Charlie began to wiggle, so Paul lifted him down. His eyes wide, the boy wandered around the room. Paul grinned and glanced back at Heather. “What would you do?”

“I’d give these walls a pale wash of light lemon. The floors need refinishing, and I’d give the beams a fresh stain. Don’t even get me started.”

His smile broadened. “I thought maybe we could fix it like it would have been when it was a working farm in the 1800s. I’ll get it solid, and you can have free rein with decorating.”

Her blue eyes widened and she squealed, then flung her arms around him. He embraced her automatically and found her so much softer than he’d expected. And so very desirable.

He quickly dropped his arms to his side and cleared his throat. “The carpenter is coming this afternoon. I’ll let you tell him what you want done.”

On Friday night most of the book group members showed up. Fifteen women packed the room. Heather passed coffee and tea around as the women settled into the comfortable sofas and chairs around the fireplace. The fire snapped and crackled, a homey sound that relaxed her as she settled onto the sofa with a throw on her legs.

The murmur of voices escalated when Molly joined them. Choruses of “How are you doing?” and “What can I do to help?” circled the group. Heather gave her friend’s expression a quick once-over and decided she was going to weather the concern fairly well. Her smile was genuine, though sadness still lurked in her eyes. After all, it had only been ten days since Curtis died.

“Thanks for everything,” Molly said. “We’re managing.”

Reese Parker settled a cheese cube on a Wheat Thin. “Griffen wants to finish the work on the storefront, Molly. He’s going to get started tomorrow.” She popped the snack into her mouth.

Molly sank onto the sofa beside Heather. “B-but I can’t pay him.”

“And Carson wants to help too. He’ll work on the construction, and if there’s anything missing, he’ll supply it.”

“I don’t know what to say. I’ll never be able to pay you all
back.” Molly’s voice trembled. “Lia stopped by with the money to pay for the funeral yesterday. I was so moved.”

“The library sale was all it took,” Lia said. “We had a steady stream of people in all week who’d heard about the fund.”

Molly blinked rapidly. “I suppose we should move on to tonight’s discussion. I have to admit I didn’t get a chance to read it.”

“Of course not,” Heather said. “We’re just glad you’re here. Did anyone else read it?”

A chorus of voices answered her. Most had read the Mary Higgins Clark novel and seemed eager to discuss it.

“You and your mysteries,” Shelby said, groaning. “I was reading it when Nick came into the bedroom. Scared me so badly I screamed and threw the book at him. I’ll be glad when we move on to another romance.”

The women’s reading tastes were hugely diverse, but they gamely tried to keep up. Heather tried to keep her recommendations a bit tame just for Shelby. “It all ends up okay, I promise.”

At least they weren’t talking about her and Paul. Not that there was anything to talk about.

Heather’s perfume teased Paul’s nose as he followed her up the stairs to the office space above Natalie’s store.

“Nat said to tell you she’ll meet you here after she picks up the replacement espresso machine.”

“Thanks for taking her place.” He averted his gaze from
the slim black skirt that showed off her killer legs. She was a married woman, and he had no business noticing.

He stepped onto a landing illuminated with light from a big window over the stairwell. “Nice and roomy.” A door opened to his right. “This the room?”

Heather nodded and unlocked the door. “When I first saw this, I told Nat it would make a wonderful office space. See for yourself.” She opened the door and stepped aside.

He poked his head into the space and blinked. The place was huge, with high ceilings. There were no interior walls, just a big expanse of unfettered space. The pale yellow color added to the sense of an unlimited area to design as he liked. A bank of south-facing windows streamed light into the large room. It would easily house at least four architects at work. There was another smaller room off to the side that would suit him for the main office.

Heather’s high heels clicked on the wood floors. “This alcove would be perfect for a receptionist’s desk. And the floors are in good shape. Basic refinishing and this place would be awesome. The ceilings are twelve feet high.”

He pocketed his hands and imagined the room finished. “Great lighting. I think this will be perfect. I know my sister, and she’s going to refuse to name me a price. You’ve lived here all your life. What’s it really worth?”

Heather’s full lips turned up, and she chuckled. “You’re right. Nat’s not going to want you to pay much. I bet you’d do the same thing for her.”

He tipped up his chin. “That’s different.”

“No, it isn’t. Families help each other.”

He had to laugh. “You’re clearly as bad as she is.”

She didn’t answer, but her eyes were lit with a warm glow as she turned away and examined the walls. “The plaster is in good shape too. A little fresh paint and you’ll be ready to go.”

He longed to question her about her life. Natalie could fill him in, but he wasn’t about to let his sister know what had happened between him and Heather four years ago. He didn’t like showing his mistakes.

“I have some initial drawings of the farm if you’d like to see them.”

She turned back toward him. “I’d love to! We have to move fast if you intend to plant this year. You’re lucky nothing has been planted there in several years. The chemicals used will have degraded, but we still need to work in manure and other organic material.”

He grinned. “Manure—what a nice topic of discussion.”

A delicate blush accentuated her high cheekbones. “I think it’s a perfectly fine topic.”

Grinning, he pulled a folded paper from his pocket and took it to the window. “See what you think.” She stood close enough for their shoulders to touch as he pointed out the blueberry patch and the new structures he planned.

“I like it. When can we get started?”

Once again he liked the idea of that
we
. “We’ll do the planting first, then this summer I’ll get the buildings done. Want to meet with me on Monday to work the ground?”

“You’re doing it yourself?”

“I’ll do the work if you tell me what to do.”

“Deal.” She headed for the door. “I need to get home and fix dinner. I promised Charlie spaghetti.”

He must have imagined the admiration in her voice for just a second. “A favorite of your husband’s too?”

She stopped, and he nearly ran into her. He took a step back, and she turned to face him. “Um, I need to clear up something, Paul. I’m divorced.”

Divorced
. He shouldn’t feel so elated, but he straightened and tried to look serious. “I’m sorry.”