Love in a Small Town Read online

  Maple trees bent their lush heads together shading the gravel road that had been treated with used motor oil to keep down the dust. It was a county road, but Browning residents traveled it frequently and the town took care of its own.

  She couldn't remember the last time it rained, although every farmer in and around Browning could name the exact date, and it was a major topic of conversation at Jodie's these days.

  Lily had tried to put today's Sam Whozit out of her mind, but with nothing to distract her, gave into an urge to dwell on his good looks. His eyes were the deepest blue she'd ever seen, and the sprinkling of silver in his hair accented its striking darkness. He was too dashing to stay in a small town if he was single, and if he was married, looks were irrelevant.

  She couldn't believe she'd failed to notice whether he wore a wedding ring, but after the plant incident, he kept staring at her, and she couldn't think straight. She'd like to think he was impressed, but he might have still been stunned by the blow she'd dealt him.

  Pulling into the paved parking area at Country Care, Lily took off her cap and ran her hands through her hair to free the natural waves. Her mother would say she was too old to wear her hair inches below her shoulders, but Mom was in California with her husband of one year whom Lily hadn't met. She seldom saw her dad in Peoria either.

  Lily apologized to Jenny for not being able to bring news from Jodie's and blaming it on Sam, told her about his disastrous visit to Radiance. Jenny told her about a craft class she'd attended that morning.

  Eighty-six, Lily's friend was frail looking but spunky, and took part in all the activities she could at Country Care. Jenny broke a hip and when it didn't mend correctly after surgery, refused to have another operation.

  The aquarium in the corner of the sitting room was Jenny's idea, and several residents sat around it now, eating and watching the fish swim round and round. The water and motion were soothing, she'd taught Lily.

  When Lily looked at her watch and moved to leave, Jenny wrapped gnarled fingers around hers. "You're good medicine for me. Come back again soon, won't you?"

  "You know I will. You're good medicine for everyone." Lily dropped a kiss on her gray head.

  On the drive home, Lily still felt a glow from her visit. All she knew about making people feel better, she'd learned from Jenny, and opening Radiance was a turning point in Lily's life. She took the shorter route home, driving through town, honking and waving at people she passed, her heart thumping with excitement as she wheeled into her drive. Sam What's-His-Name was probably hoping he'd never see her again, but little did he know.

  Chapter Two

  When Sam left Inner Radiance, he was drawn by a neon sign at the end of the block. Schube's Corner, One Stop Shop . . . blinked off and on, first one phrase, then the other. He needed provisions and might as well get them now.

  Inside the frame building, he was surprised to find a modern convenience mart set smack in the middle of an old-time general store. Customers could rent videos, fill prescriptions, and buy microwave pizzas, sandwiches, and soft drinks in the chrome middle section. Around the perimeter, you could find everything from groceries to underwear. Bins of penny candy, a glass dome with wedges of cheese, and a pickle barrel were flanked by a wooden bench and a table and chairs where four old guys played pinochle. A woman with a child and a dripping ice cream sat on the bench.

  Sam stood still, inhaling the mixed aromas of freshly ground coffee and sawdust and listening to the erratic popping of corn blended with the noisy rings and pings of a pinball machine. Once again, he felt like he'd been dropped inside a fiction book. "Afternoon," a woman in a print dress said.

  He mumbled a greeting and feeling like a dolt for standing and staring, grabbed a cart. Schube's was one hundred and eighty degrees away from the super store where he shopped back home, but he found his favorite Colombian coffee, a respectable brand of wine, and as he was leaving, Sam passed a case with hand cut meat. Thinking about inch-thick steaks, he decided the next few days might not be too bad.

  Headed for his house, Sam drove slowly while taking a good look around. In a burg with only a handful of shops in a two-block business district, Lily had guts selling feel-good items, but with looks like hers, she could sell snow to Eskimos. If she didn't get too feisty with them. Why would she think he needed a worry stone? Sam rubbed a finger between his eyes.

  An aged brick with detached garage located a block off the main drag, the three-story Thornbury place, stood out among the other houses on the block. They were all old, but this one…his…in spite of its age and condition possessed dignity.

  He turned into a graveled alleyway alongside the house and pulled in the drive that opened off it. The garage was too small to house the van, so he didn't bother with the overhead door. The side door was unlocked and Sam found a large assortment of tools and lawn equipment inside. They were covered with cobwebs and dust, but he took a moment to admire them, thinking it was a wonder they hadn't been stolen. He loved this kind of stuff although he had no use for it at the condos where there was a groundskeeper.

  A patio, with several broken bricks and dry grass growing out of the cracks, lay between the garage and house, and a back porch ran halfway across the side farthest from the alley.

  Squinting against the sun, Sam focused on the condition of the place. He barely remembered his grandparents, and their house was unfamiliar. If he visited here as a high school senior, he had no recollection. He vaguely recalled the apartment where he and his parents lived and the school he attended.

  As for classmates, he remembered two from his graduating class, and both were girls. One, a blonde who sat across from him in psychology class, flirted with him incessantly. Across the aisle on the other side, a redhead with a tiny gap between her front teeth and a cute smile never glanced his way. A sucker for a challenge, he tried to get her attention but failed, and he hated failing. Was she shy or didn't she like him? Not that it mattered now.

  The painted trim on the house was weathered and a spindly television antenna, broken near the top, stuck out from the roof like a wounded appendage. He circled the structure slowly. Tripping over a section of cracked garden hose hidden in tall grass, he kicked it aside. If the interior was in equally poor shape, the house would be hard to sell.

  Rose bushes along the side of the house grew in wild disarray but bore fragrant blooms. Ivy-covered chimneys and a steep shingled roof appeared intact. The concrete steps were in good shape. There were redeeming graces.

  The full front porch, roofed and shaded by large trees, would provide a cool haven on a hot summer's day. A morning glory vine wove its way up a wooden trellis, hiding the alley, and on the other side, the view of a two-story house was a pleasant one.

  Smaller than his, it was well kept with flowers planted along the foundation. Red, yellow, and violet clusters of blooms grew in a profusion of color. A golden retriever lay sleeping inside the fenced backyard. He could almost see the little old lady who lived there, sunlight warming her gray head, cutting bouquets.

  * * *

  "Here." Lily, moving through her bedroom to the adjoining bath, threw the ball for Brandy. "Last time," she said, and the dog, after retrieving it, only whined once before lying down. She'd begun to outgrow some of the exuberance of puppyhood, and Lily didn't know whether to be sorry or glad.

  Stepping into the cooling shower, she lifted her face to the spray and savored the relaxation of the moment. She absolutely had to finish the invitations for her class reunion this evening. Her classmates needed time to make arrangements if they were to attend in August. It was hard to believe twenty years had passed since she graduated. She'd never expected to reach this age without marrying and having kids. Lately, she'd begun to think about adoption but hated to tackle the red tape.

  After wrapping her hair in a towel, Lily slipped into a short terrycloth jumpsuit and sat down at the computer in her bedroom. Everything else could wait. This was only their second class reunion in all these year
s, so it would be a major event. As class secretary, she, and Carla Baker, president, would make sure of that.

  She'd rather deal with people than paperwork, both in the mayor's office and regarding the reunion, but this task would soon be finished while the other was ongoing.

  Lily glanced toward the window where Brandy was looking out, leaving fresh nose prints on the glass. The windows ran floor to ceiling and the dog decorated them daily, but it was better than living in an apartment where pets were forbidden. Brandy made her laugh chasing butterflies and birds, and even bumblebees, although she might have been cured of that after suffering a swollen nose. There was a rabbit she'd love to chase, if she could get outside her fence.

  Lily turned on her PC and called up the list of names and addresses she'd typed in.

  It had been Jenny Oates' idea for Lily to move into her house when she went to live at Country Care, and it worked well for both of them. She kept the property up and paid the utilities while living here rent-free. She still hoped Jenny would be able to come back home, but it was beginning to look less and less likely.

  Four people from her high school graduating class were unaccounted for, and she was determined to find them. Ten years ago when she was living in Peoria, she wasn't invited because Carla hadn't bothered to locate her. It was her disappointment in missing the reunion that prompted her to take on the job this time around.

  Lily scrolled down the list and highlighted the first name missing an address. After some ten minutes on the Internet, she found the address and added it. Carla could have done as much, and Lily hoped she did better as chairperson of this gala affair.

  Scrolling to the second name, she highlighted it. Sam Champion. Sam. Opening the class yearbook, she paused, and smiled. Too bad she and next-door Sam had gotten off to such a bad start. Not that it mattered, since he was probably taken. He looked to be about her age, and most people tied the knot before they were thirty-eight, many of them more than once.

  Her screen saver came on and she touched the space bar. Forget the guy next door. She was dealing with Sam… Champion. A note on Carla's list indicated he hadn't attended the last reunion, but she probably hadn't bothered to find him either. Sam Champion. Lily didn't remember his face or name. She picked up her school yearbook.

  * * *

  Turning the key he'd gotten from Lily Madison, Sam stepped inside the home where his grandparents, Samuel and Martha Thornbury, lived when his mother was born. Flipping the light switch in the foyer, Sam let out his breath when the chandelier bulbs glowed. Bottomley remembered to have the utilities turned on as he'd requested.

  Sam walked down the wide hall, footsteps echoing on the wooden floor. The hollow sound faded each time he stepped into an adjoining room on timeworn carpet. Dusty drapes shut out afternoon sunlight, and bed sheets thrown over furniture served as dust covers.

  The cherry paneling in the hallway and green marble fireplaces in the library and master bedroom were exquisite. The hearths showed signs of use. Did they still work? A fire on a winter night would be cozy. Sam stood on the hearth in the library and held out his hands toward an imagined fire. This was a big house and it needed a ton of work to get what it was worth. It was his sole inheritance and he'd like to get full price, but he couldn't afford to hire the work done and didn't have time to do it himself.

  Professors weren't highly paid and he'd spent years paying off his school loans. He could use the money and the house had potential. Catching himself frowning as he carried in the groceries, he wondered if Lily sold magic lamps.

  Taking a box of spaghetti from one of his bags, Sam set a pot under the faucet and gazed out the window over the sink. Getting bopped on the head wasn't smart, but that mistake wasn't his. Not hearing the chime was.

  A sprinkler in the next yard flung sparkling arcs of water on grass the same bright green as Lily's eyes. With her red hair and alluring smile, she'd dazzled him. He'd like to think he was still suffering from the blow on his head but didn't even have a bump to show for it. His stomach growled, and he did too. "Let it go, Champion. You're not going to see her again."

  It wasn't like him to let a woman make him act stupid. It happened once, and he'd been damned certain not to let it happen again. Of course, that was a different story, but he'd learned another more valuable lesson from that experience. It was better to be the person less invested in a relationship.

  He turned the handle on the faucet. Nothing happened. He glared at it. Twisted the handle again. Banged it. He should have known by the way things went so far. Browning and incompetent people went hand-in-hand, and his stay here, no matter how short, would be too long.

  * * *

  Sam, a guy named Jack Ryan, and a woman named Tina Grusinger were the only ones still missing. Lily remembered Tina, a pale girl who was shy and thin. Odd, she didn't remember either of the boys. She paged through the school yearbook looking for Sam's picture. A's, B's, C's.

  Yowls and yips echoed through the house. Brandy must have spotted that pesky rabbit again. Her barking helped scare it away from the peas and lettuce, the two early crops Lily put out, but the rabbit had begun to get more daring. She was beginning to think the two of them were enjoying their little game. Hitting "save" on her computer, she loped down the steps.

  Brandy stood at the kitchen window, paws on the low sill, carrying on. Lily would give that rabbit a run for his money. Brandy was close to the back door, so Lily threw open the front door, and like lightning, the golden retriever bolted past her.

  Lily rounded the corner of the house just in time to see forty pounds of dog slam into a male body. She pressed her fist to her mouth. No.

  A pitcher flew into the air and water came down on both man and dog. "Damn."

  Not again. Not him.

  Next-door Sam lay on the ground, Brandy's huge paws planted on his chest. The dog looked to Lily, as if expecting praise. Browning's potential resident glared at her, the look on his face menacing.

  "What are you trying to do? Kill me?" Sam shouted as best he could with that blankety-blank dog licking his face.

  "Don't be silly," Lily said, hands on hips. "Brandy wouldn't hurt—"

  "I'm talking to you. Not the dog!"

  Mouth agape, she narrowed her eyes at him. "You're blaming me? What were you trying to do with my water?" She waved a hand toward his pitcher.

  Cursing under his breath, Sam freed himself of his canine anchor and struggled to his feet. He was soaked, but Lily's attention was on the water seeping into her sandals. "Just look."

  Sam jerked his head toward the house next door. "I was going to borrow some. Mine isn't turned on." Her words soaked in and his jaw dropped. "Wait a minute. Your water? That key was to the house next to yours and you never mentioned it?"

  "Would you, under the circumstances?" Lily chuckled. "Would it be trite to say it's a small world?"

  "Small town," Sam muttered as he turned off the hose.

  "The best kind." Lily motioned him to follow her. "Come inside and I'll give you water. People in small towns are generous."

  "And dangerous." Sam stopped on a throw rug just inside her kitchen door. It was one of those gaudy, multicolored things made of woven rags. She's done it again. Embarrassed me, and she's smiling.

  If he weren't such an after-dinner coffee fiend, he'd make a beeline back to the house right now. "I'm dripping. I should wait outside."

  "You're okay. Here." She tossed him a dinky hand towel, and her blasted dog rushed past to stand between them, shaking water on her and him both.

  Sam bit his tongue. Lily kicked off her sandals and flicked water from her long, lovely legs with her hand. The terry thing she wore was short. The bath towel draping her shoulders must have fallen from her damp hair.

  She gave him a long, level look. "I'll get you a bigger towel."

  If she'd noticed him giving her the once-over, he didn't care. If she'd just give him some water, he'd leave. He had wine to drink with his meal, but dinner wasn't complete without
coffee.

  Her kitchen was…bright. Yellow walls, snowy white cabinets with enameled handles that looked like pieces of fruit, a bright blue table centered with a vase of daisies, and blue chairs with red and white checked seat pads.

  His stomach was growling so noisily, she should be able to hear it in the next room, or wherever the hell she went. Her refrigerator door suffered from magnet overload, and though he'd always thought this sort of display tacky, he moved closer to look at them. Anything to keep his mind and stomach off the spaghetti waiting for him at home.

  The largest magnet, set in the center, was a replica of the billboard he'd seen. Grow Browning. Many of the others were framed photos.

  Lily appeared and shoved a fluffy peach towel in his hand. She'd pinned her damp hair atop her head and anchored it with two plastic knitting needle-like things.

  "Those are pictures of family. The souvenir magnets are mementos they bring me from vacations." Smiling, she tapped the picture of a curly-haired girl. "This is my youngest niece, Lily Marie. My namesake, but they call her Marie. I call her Tiger Lily because she has a temper to go with that red hair."

  "Cute nickname. Cute kid. She looks like you."

  Lily beamed. "That's a nice compliment. Thank you."

  Sam continued to study the magnets while she filled his pitcher. She had a lot of relatives and they apparently took frequent vacations.

  "Do you have a big family?" she asked.

  He shook his head.

  "You'll have to fill this outside." Taking a thermos jug from a lower cabinet, she held it out. "It won't fit under the kitchen faucet. Between the two, you should have enough water to last until yours is turned on. Unless you planned to take a shower."