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Maeve could see it coming from a mile away.
“...I know someone,” Lily finished. “One of my patient’s grandsons moved into her house to help her out. He’s a very nice guy.”
Maeve sighed. “If I decide I need a date, I’ll let you know.” She wasn’t sure what happened to turn half of Valley Ridge’s minds toward fixing her up, but it had been bad ever since Mattie and Finn, and Sophie and Colton were married.
She took that back. She knew exactly what had happened.
Tori Allen—her summertime volunteer at the library and Sophie’s rediscovered daughter—that’s what happened. Or rather who happened.
Tori had decided that Maeve needed to get out more and she’d not so subtly tried to fix her up whenever she could. And for someone who lived in Ohio and only came in to Valley Ridge for visits, she managed quite a bit. She’d tried to convince Maeve to date the town’s bachelor cop, Dylan. But she was pretty sure she’d dissuaded Tori from making that particular match. Dylan was a nice enough man, but he wasn’t what Maeve was looking for.
To be honest, Maeve wasn’t exactly sure what she was looking for in a man. But she was certain that when she found him, she’d know. Immediately. That’s how it had happened when her mom met her dad. And after her father passed away, her mother had fallen head over heels for Herman Lorei, a new farmer in town. It was good to see her mom happy again.
Yes, someday Maeve would meet the man for her. Until then, she’d wait. She wasn’t willing to settle.
“Well, if you change your mind...” Lily let the offer hang there a moment. “My client’s grandson is cute.”
Maeve grinned. “Thanks, Lily. I’ll let you know.” But don’t hold your breath. “Thanks for everything.” Maeve saw Lily out and hoped that she’d dissuaded her friend from playing matchmaker. After all, she had Tori, the teenage yenta matchmaker-wannabe, on the job.
Maeve was comfortable. And she was busy. Between her paid job at the winery in Ripley and her volunteering at the library, there weren’t enough hours in the day. She wasn’t actively looking for a relationship. She was content to wait until she found him, or he found her. And if it never happened? She’d be okay. Ms. Mac, the school principal, had never married but seemed perfectly happy with her full, productive life. She’d made such a difference in Maeve’s life.
There were fates much worse than being single.
She glanced at the clock.
Since Maeve’s boss, Gabriel, had called and said not to even try to get to Ripley today, she could cross the now-clear parking lot to the library and catalog a few of her new books.
She hadn’t heard a peep from upstairs, so she left Josie a note on the table with her whereabouts and cell phone number, and took a pile of books with her.
She doubted anyone would be out today and even if they were, she doubted they’d be in desperate need of a library book, but still, as was her practice, she went to turn on the small neon open sign in the library window—before she remembered there was no power.
Well, that was that. Maeve would leave the books to be cataloged some other day.
As long as she was dressed for it, she decided she’d walk the few blocks to the grocery store and buy some more milk. She had some meat in the fridge and could easily put together a stew for herself and her unexpected guests. She should probably think about moving the contents of the refrigerator outside if the power didn’t come back on soon.
And while she was out, she might as well stop at Valley Ridge Farm and House Supplies for the salt and some more lamp oil, just in case the power wasn’t restored by nightfall.
She hadn’t exaggerated this morning when she told Boyd that she normally went on foot to the shops in Valley Ridge. She rarely drove anywhere other than to work. If Valley Ridge ever approved a budget that would pay her for her work at the library, then she would probably be able to give up driving all together. Well, mostly. She crossed over the bridge that spanned Cooper’s Creek, then past the schools. She continued up Park Street, past the familiar shops. As she approached the grocery store, she found that a number of Valley Ridge residents were already there. The owner had a generator that kept the freezers and refrigerators running. Her shopping done, she headed back toward home. The Farm and House Supplies store was on the way.
The store took up most of the block of Park Street right before the schools. The parking lot and outdoor yard comprised a great deal of it. Jerry carried mulch, stones, some bricks and other basic items he stored outside. She looked past the empty lot and saw the top of the old Culpepper place.
She walked around the block to get to the residential street where the Culpepper house was located. From Park Street there wasn’t much to see apart from the roof. Standing in front of it now, she recalled how people said that it had good bones. The bones of the Culpepper place were becoming better disguised with every passing day as neglect etched itself onto the facade. The stonework was covered with ivy that was dead and brown given the cold. As for the yard, she knew there was no lawn under the snow, but rather a collection of weeds that the neighbors occasionally mowed. Most of the windows were boarded over, and the corner of the porch had begun to sag in a way that gave the impression the entire porch would someday completely slide off the house.
There was nothing sadder than a deserted house, Maeve mused. Once, a family had lived there. She had a vague recollection from her childhood of Mr. and Mrs. Culpepper. They’d seemed ancient then. The house had been vacant since Maeve had moved back to town.
Even the layer of snow that covered it couldn’t erase the lonely look of the place. For some reason, it made Maeve ache. She remembered a time when she would have been thrilled to call even that sorry neglected house her home.
She forced herself to ignore the wave of unpleasant nostalgia that had been biting at the edge of her memories since she met the Myers family.
She cut through the back of the property, went around the dilapidated fence and arrived back at the store. She went inside and was relieved when she practically bumped into Sophie McCray. Sophie was one of those eternally sunny people, around whom it was impossible to stay glum.
“Maeve,” Sophie cried out as she teetered toward her on high-heeled boots. Sophie was petite and as such, rarely seen without some kind of heel on her footwear. But given that she was only weeks away from giving birth, Maeve thought maybe her friend should consider trying out some more sensible shoes. Sophie’s stomach protruded so far out that she couldn’t zip her coat, sensible shoes made even more sense. But Sophie didn’t seem to care as she ran over and embraced Maeve.
“What are you doing out?” Maeve asked. “Colton should have tethered you to the farm in this weather.”
“He tried, but I don’t tether well. Besides, we needed a few things and he’s helping Sebastian and Finn dig out some neighbors. I’m on my way to the diner to meet Mattie and Lily.”
“Lily will probably run late and I’ll be the one at fault,” Maeve admitted. “I have company and she came to help me out.”
Sophie nodded knowingly. “I heard.”
“The Valley Ridge message boards—I should have guessed. Social media doesn’t have anything on our grapevine, does it?”
Sophie laughed. “So how is your pregnant visitor?”
“Her name’s Josie. She’s passing through Valley Ridge with her husband, Boyd, and son, Carl. She’s fine for now. Lily’s going to set up an appointment with Neil before they move on. I’ll feel better after he checks her out.”
“If you don’t mind more unexpected company, maybe I’ll stop by later and say hi. Us pregnant women need to stick together.”
“I’m sure Josie would enjoy that.” Maeve rarely had anyone over to her house. Instantly she’d gone from no guests to overflowing with guests.
“Is it true they lost their house?” Sophie asked.
With some people, Maeve would have bristled at the question, assuming they were only looking for some juicy gossip. But this was Sophie, and there was concern in her eyes. Maeve didn’t want to give up Josie’s confidences, but felt safe confiding in Sophie. “They’re headed to North Dakota to look for work.”
“I wish I knew about some job in Valley Ridge,” Sophie said. “But times have been tight here like everywhere else.”
“I know.” Maeve jostled the grocery bag from one arm to the other. “But as soon as the storm’s aftermath is cleared, it sounds like they’ll be on their way.”
“Well, I’m glad I’ll meet her before they leave. I’ll stop in after lunch, if that’s okay?”
“That would be fine.”
Maeve wasn’t sure why she didn’t like to open her home to anyone, but that was the truth of it. She had never been someone who could have friends over after school, or after work. Her home now was her private sanctuary. She hadn’t thought twice about having Josie and her family come over, but with more people crowding into her modest house it made her feel...anxious.
She pushed the feeling aside and went looking for the first thing on her list. She rounded a corner in the home section and spotted an employee with his back to her. He was wearing a T-shirt that had a large logo of the store. “Excuse me. Can you tell me where the lamp oil is?”
“Can I? Certainly, I can. The question you wanted to ask was, Will I?” the employee muttered as he turned around.
“You,” was Maeve’s response. Not that she was surprised. The minute the words left the man’s mouth she’d known he was the snarly guy from this morning. Despite his surliness, Maeve couldn’t avoid liking his voice.
Maeve hadn’t realized until this very moment how much she loved a good voice. The rich, low gravelly type was her favorite. Put a voice like that on one of her audiobooks, and she could listen to the phone book being read.
And this man’s voice was deep, commanding, intoxicating.
“Listen, I don’t want to start another debate with you. You’re Jerry’s employee and even if he’s not here, he has standards. So, I’d appreciate it if you would help me find the lamp oil without any more of your sarcasm.”
He tipped an imaginary hat. “Anything for you, Red.”
“Maeve. Remember?”
He chuckled. “I’m not likely to forget. Maeve Buchanan, the librarian.”
“Well, then, if you haven’t forgotten my name, I’d appreciate it if you’d use it.” That was polite, not that this guy deserved polite.
“Follow me and I’d be happy to show you to the lamp oil, Maeve.”
She wasn’t the only one he was testy with. That much was evident as he led her through the aisles, ignoring everyone as they passed.
“So is your mood an everyday occurrence, or is it specific to today?” she asked.
He gave her a quizzical look.
“You are less than salesman-nice.”
“You’re right. I find the snow and the power outage unbelievably annoying. And I feel sort of naked without my computer...”
At the word naked Maeve got a very vivid image of the man with the good voice in far less clothing than he was wearing. She immediately tried to push the unwelcome image away.
Pretty is as pretty does, or so the saying went. So far, judging by his attitude, he wasn’t very pretty at all.
“...I guess it shows in my manners. Sorry.” He stopped at a shelf and pointed.
“Oh, you have manners? I hadn’t noticed.” Now she was the one being snippy. She felt a little guilty—but only a little. After all, it wasn’t his fault that she’d had crazy images of him in her head. She coughed. “Thank you for showing me to the proper aisle.”
“Would you like to have dinner sometime?” His look of surprise matched how she felt.
Maeve couldn’t have been more taken aback if the man had asked her whether the moon was flat, or if it was summer. “No, I don’t think so. To be honest, not if you were the last man on earth.” She said it as nicely as she could, but she wanted to be clear. Her mother would have scolded her for being so blunt, but this man set her teeth on edge and didn’t seem to realize how off-putting he was. “But thanks for asking and for your assistance.”
She practically sprinted toward the cashier, anxious to get away from this man, who she suspected was still staring after her.
“I’m Aaron, by the way, Maeve the Librarian. Aaron Holder,” he called.
She didn’t turn around, but did wave a hand to acknowledge him. Aaron. Nice name. Nice voice. But other than those two things, she could find very little that was nice about Mr. Aaron Holder.
* * *
AARON WATCHED RED dash for the register with her lamp oil and grocery bag in hand. She certainly had the temper of a redhead. He wasn’t one to believe in stereotypes, but this one seemed to apply.
He acknowledged he’d been less than pleasant both times they met. When he was younger, his mother used to say that the world had best watch out when he was in a mood—especially when it involved his sisters. Recently, his mother informed him that he’d been in a mood for the past two years.
Today’s exercise in wireless living only exacerbated his general level of frustration. He hadn’t lied when he said not having power ticked him off. He felt disconnected. He was a man who made his living on the computer. So, not only could he not work on his new program today, his only access to the internet was via his phone, and answering clients’ questions on its minuscule screen was a pain because he was pretty sure he needed glasses. Constantly increasing and decreasing the size of the screen and font only fueled his frustration. Added to that, he was here in snowy Valley Ridge, New York, rather than sitting in the sun, enjoying life in Florida. But for some reason, Red had perked him up.
His family would say he took perverse delight in being annoying.
He’d disagree. He never intended to be annoying. He merely liked to understand things. And he counted people as things that he liked to understand.
They were so complicated.
Give him complex ideas to code into a computer and he could puzzle through any of them. But people? There was no algorithm for understanding them. You could input data to your heart’s content, but they still surprised you. You thought you knew everything about them and then when you least expected it, they’d spring something new on you.
Sometimes, they’d spring something on you that shook you to your core.
Okay, he knew where this line of thinking would lead and frankly he didn’t have time for that today. He’d already annoyed one customer. He owed it to his uncle to not annoy any more.
He wished Maeve the librarian had said yes to his dinner invitation. Maybe he should have assured her that he wasn’t asking her on a date. He wasn’t interested in dating anyone. But he could do with a friend here in town. Or at least an acquaintance. And because Maeve the librarian seemed to be able to hold her own with him, she seemed like a good candidate.
He didn’t have more time to think about Red. He had a store to see to. Aaron spotted a man whose uniform proclaimed that he was the local cop. “Do you need help, Officer?”
“You’re new here,” the cop stated. “Even if I didn’t know almost every soul in Valley Ridge, I’d have known because you’re the first person to call me Officer in weeks.”
“What do most people call you?” Aaron asked with interest. He was curious. This guy’s pants and shirtsleeves were creased. Anything metal, from badges to the grip on his weapon, gleamed. Everything about him screamed, my job is my identity.
“Sheriff.” There was significant annoyance in his voice as he spit out the word. Sort of like Maeve bristling every time he called her Red.
“Doesn’t matter how many times I explain that there are differences between a police officer and a sheriff,” the cop grumbled, “certain people here in town still persist in using the wrong term. And they’ve polluted the populace to the extent that most of them use it, as well. The other cops all get officer, but not me. Sheriff?” He looked fierce. “But don’t worry, I know the origins of my sheriffing—so I know where the blame lies—and someday, Colton will get his. I’m Dylan, by the way.”
“Did I hear my name?” A man wearing a cowboy hat rounded the corner. “I’m trying to find my wife and I am sure I heard my name.” He smiled at the cop. “Sheriff.”
Aaron had heard a lot of men refer to their wives, but never with so much love put into the term. He knew without probing any further that this was Colton and that torturing the cop was part of his fun.
The man in the cowboy hat extended his hand. “Colton. Colton McCray.”
“Aaron Holder.”
“So, you’re the nephew who got in last week,” Colton said.
“Whose nephew?” Dylan asked.
“Jerry’s,” Colton and Aaron said in unison.
“Oh, you’re the one spending the winter with us. Sorry it started with a bang. I mean, we definitely get snow here, but for the most part not this much this early,” Dylan offered.
“You know what they say about jumping into the deep end,” Aaron said. “You sink or swim. I’m not sure I’m doing either right now. It’s more like treading water, but at least I’m not drowning.”
“Well, welcome to Valley Ridge,” the cop-not-sheriff said.
“Dylan, this is my friendly reminder. You haven’t RSVP’d to Lily’s wedding yet. It has been the subject of discussion. Much discussion,” Colton added ominously.
“Oh, crap,” the cop said, looking nervous. “I could have not RSVP’d to Sophie’s or Mattie’s weddings with little repercussion, but this is Lily.” He started rummaging in his pocket and produced a phone.
“Yeah, it’s Lily,” Colton agreed.
Dylan punched in a number on his phone, made a hang-on-a-minute gesture and walked down the aisle. “Lily...”
“What’s the problem with this Lily?” Aaron asked as Dylan took his conversation out of earshot.
“Nothing. She’s marrying one of my best friends and is one of the sweetest women in the world. But she has some—” he hesitated as if trying to think of the right words to describe this sweet woman who made cops cower “—uh, very definite ideas about how weddings, engagements, even showers should work. RSVP’ing by the date indicated on the card is in her must-do column.”
