my daughter, I’d get out my shotgun and there’d be a wedding!”
Gwen didn’t believe for a second that Oggie had ever owned a gun of any type. But she appreciated his protectiveness, even if it was misplaced.
Further conversation about her unwedded state was halted by a god-awful noise on Main Street. Everyone looked to see a huge U-Haul truck approaching.
“What in the world…?” Irene asked.
When the truck turned onto Lottery Lane and passed right in front of Gwen’s house, she thought the driver looked familiar. A troubling suspicion began to build in her mind, especially when the truck stopped and backed into the driveway of the Carter place next door—the one Mary Kay had just sold.
“You have a new neighbor?” Olivia asked Gwen.
“It appears so. I’ll go…welcome him.” Better to face him privately than give the town, not to mention the ever-curious reporters, another bit of fodder for the grapevine.
Gwen walked as fast as she could in her present condition. The truck’s driver opened his door and descended.
“Howdy, neighbor!” Eli said with a broad grin. “Are you the welcome wagon?”
Chapter Three
Eli had seen Gwen in the throes of passion. He’d seen her sweetly shy, irritated and embarrassed. But he’d never seen her spitting mad. He liked it. Anger brought out the fire in her green eyes.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. Wisps of her auburn hair escaped from a bun at the nape of her neck, flying every which way in the breeze like banners of fire.
He tossed her a lazy smile. “I’m moving in. I decided I like your little town, and I thought it might be fun to have an address on Lottery Lane.”
“But…but you can’t do that.”
“Of course I can.”
She bit her lower lip, a little less sure of her footing now. “Have you even been in that house?”
“Nope. Bought it sight unseen. But I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’m good with my hands, and if it has any problems, I’ll fix them right up.”
For some reason, she smiled. “You have a key?”
“Right here.” He jingled his key ring.
“Let’s just go inside and have a look.”
A sense of foreboding settled just under Eli’s ribs. Mary Kay Thompson, the real estate agent who’d sold him this house, had warned him that it was in quite a shambles. No one had lived in it for two years, and the house had been in poor repair even before that. But he’d lived in some pretty crummy places in his life. His first apartment, which he shared with a married teenage couple, had featured a hole in the roof big enough to toss a basketball through.
The outside of the faded pink Victorian appeared to be sound. One broken window on the third floor could be fixed quickly enough. A few missing shingles, some peeling paint. Nothing fatal.
The front porch was missing a few boards. He offered his hand to Gwen, to help her across the uneven surface. She hesitated at first. He suspected she wouldn’t have accepted his help if she hadn’t been pregnant. Concern for her safety won out, and she took his hand.
Her hand felt small, soft and warm in his, like a little bird. He remembered how those hands had felt stroking his body, hesitant at first, then bolder as she’d realized the power she had over him.
Better not go there. He shuttered off those memories and focused on the house, his new home. The lock was rusty, but he finally managed to wrestle the door open.
He stepped inside and flipped a light switch. Nothing happened.
“Some critter probably chewed up your wiring,” Gwen said, sounding almost happy.
“Oh, my God,” was all Eli could think of to say as he took in the rotting carpets, peeling wallpaper and cobwebs. Wasps had built nests in the chandelier. Ivy grew through cracks in the windows. In the dining room, the ceiling had caved in, and it smelled as if a colony of stray cats had taken up residence.
The kitchen was even worse. The appliances were circa 1940. Even if the stove worked, he wouldn’t want to use it for fear of asphyxiating himself or causing an explosion.
“Hell, I can’t live here,” he said, disgusted.
“Glad that’s settled.”
“Is Mac’s Auto Repair in the same shape?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“I bought that, too.” The mechanic’s shop, which faced Main Street, backed up to his property. It was a perfect setup for his business. “I’m a mechanic,” he explained.
“Really?” Her irritation with him fled, at least for the moment. “We haven’t had a real mechanic in Jester for years.”
“What about Tex’s Garage?” He’d noticed the small gas station with one car bay on his way into town.
“Tex mostly works on farm equipment. He can manage a quick oil change, but if there’s anything seriously wrong with a car, we have to drive or be towed to Pine Run to have it fixed. But I don’t know that there would be enough business here for you to make a living. That’s why Mac closed up and left.”
“I’ll manage.”
She narrowed her eyes, her momentary affability vanished. “We’ll see about that. Shall we check upstairs?”
He didn’t see the point. He couldn’t live here until he did some work. “I don’t suppose you have a vacancy at the boardinghouse?”
“No, I’m all full.” She wouldn’t meet his gaze, so he kept staring at her. “Oh, all right, I do have an empty room. But you can’t stay with me. What would people say?”
“You don’t rent to male boarders?”
“Well, yes, I do. Oggie Lewis has been with me forever. But everybody knows—thinks you’re the father of my babies. The gossips have been going nuts ever since your first visit to town.”
“Then I suggest everyone will think I’m here to look after the welfare of my children. And is that so bad?”
She sighed. “But what if they’re not your children?”
He sighed right back at her. “Gwendolyn, we both know they’re mine. So why don’t we stop pretending?”
He wasn’t sure what reaction he expected, but it wasn’t fear. Yet she looked up at him with huge green eyes, and that’s what he saw.
“You’re not…I mean, you don’t want them, do you? You aren’t thinking of a custody battle or something like that, are you? Because if you are, mister, you’re in for a helluva—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Did I say anything about custody?”
“No,” she admitted.
“I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t rip two innocent children away from their mother. What kind of monster do you think I am?”
Her voice softened. “I don’t think you’re a monster. But I don’t know you very well.”
“I’d like to remedy that.” His finger traced her jawline, and she didn’t flinch from his touch. He thought about mentioning marriage again. But clearly Gwen was feeling vulnerable right now. If he pushed again, she might close up to him completely. He’d settle for moving into her boardinghouse—for now. “So how about you show me that empty room.”
“It’s not much,” she admitted. “It’s the smallest room in the house. I usually stick Harvey Brinkman in there when he comes to town.”