love of animals with something that would keep her from having to commute from house to house.
Ida Ashby lived in a small cottage just to the right of the West Oaks Inn bed-and-breakfast. The cottage could have popped right off the page of a fairy tale.
She licked her lips, grabbed hold of the copper knocker and knocked.
“Well, now, come on in with you,” Ida’s soft, sweet voice called through one of the open windows.
Shelby eased open the door. “Hi, Ida.”
“Hi there, sweet thing. What brings you down my way?” Though she had been alone in her house, Ida wore a dress. Her hair was pulled back and her Mary Jane shoes shimmered below her crossed ankles.
“I hate to sound rude, but I came to ask you about some money.” Shelby fidgeted with her bag.
Ida set down her mug of tea and peered over her glasses. “You look a mite old to be selling cookies door to door, but if you are, I’ll take two boxes.”
Shelby laughed. She needed to make it down to see Ida more often. The woman was a riot.
“Nothing like that. I promise. Although, if you want cookies, I’ll bring some along next time I stop in.” Shelby winked at her. “Actually, I was coming to ask about Mayor Ashby. He—”
“My Henry was a good man.”
“The best.”
Ida nodded her head solemnly. “The love of my life. He still is, you know. The heart doesn’t forget great love.”
Shelby puffed out a breath. Great love? Let’s see, a father who had run out on her mother when she was diagnosed with cancer, and no male prospects in her own life because of the scars on her legs, arms and back. It didn’t look like any great love would be coming Shelby’s way any time soon. She’d have to live vicariously through her brother and Paige if she wanted to experience love.
Shelby cleared her throat. “I came to talk to you about something a little more important—”
Ida’s eyes went wide. “Oh, sweetheart, there is nothing in the world more important than love. Absolutely nothing. Even the good Lord says so in the Bible. He says there is hope, faith and love—but the greatest of those is love.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“There’s no supposing. It just is. You make sure to look for chances to have love in your life. It comes in all forms and at the most quiet moments. Sometimes it tiptoes right on into our lives when we’re being too loud to notice it.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”
Ida smiled and picked up her mug. “Was there something else you needed, dear?”
Shelby licked her lips and leaned forward. “I was young, so I might not remember correctly, but didn’t Mayor Ashby start a fund meant to rebuild the church?”
“Oh, was he ever heartbroken when he found out they couldn’t go ahead with plans for the church.” Ida laid her hands over her heart. “It was his dearest wish to see our little chapel standing again. I’ve always been rather unhappy about the fact that Henry didn’t get to see it happen in his lifetime. But he couldn’t convince the church board to keep the land. They were so bent on washing their hands of the building and moving on so the congregation could divide. It was a very sad time for us.”
“So there was an account set up for the church?”
“Not was, dear, there is one. I advised him to divert the money to another worthwhile purpose, but he just wouldn’t see the reason in that. My Henry was such a dreamer, you see. He held out hope that someday an opportunity to rebuild would resurface.”
“I think we might be able to.” Shelby unfolded the deed to the land the church used to occupy. She showed it to Ida. “My dad passed away recently.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. We weren’t close. We hadn’t spoken in years.”
“How tragic.” Ida closed her eyes for a moment.
“The important thing is we can rebuild the church, Ida. My dad left me the land in his will. I just need to know if there are enough funds, and if I can access them.”
Ida clasped her hands together and rocked back and forth as she stared at the piece of paper. “My Henry would be so pleased. I should have known he’d be right all along. That was his fondest wish. You do know that, don’t you? He’d say this was the happiest day of his life—besides our wedding day, of course.”
“Of course.” Shelby nodded along.
“Paperwork.” Ida shuffled over to a metal filing cabinet that was four drawers high. “Let me see here.” She pulled out a file a few minutes later. “Right here. Yes. My Henry was so brilliant. You see.” Plunking the paperwork on the table, she jutted her fingers to indicate the first few lines. “He set the account up as a nonprofit whose sole purpose was to rebuild the church. That way, some of the greasy-fingered board members couldn’t get a hold of the money and do something silly with it. You know the type—the ones who want to spend thousands of dollars on new street signs so we can look fancy for the tourists.”
Ida explained that since her name was on the account, she would need to sign all the bills with regard to rebuilding the church. “And I’ll be just delighted to sign whatever you bring me, because I trust you, my dear. I do. You’ll do right by this community and finally give us our shiny white pearl back in town.”
Shelby sure hoped she was up to the task.
Her phone rang as she waved goodbye to Ida. The screen told her it was her brother. “Hey, Caleb.”
“I’m worried about you.” In true Caleb fashion he cut right to his point.
“What’s new? You’re always worried about something.” Shelby grabbed her bike off the ground.
“You’re going to go ahead with this plan to rebuild the church, aren’t you?”
“Of course. I told you that after the reading of Dad’s will.”
“I don’t know if that’s wise.” He paused. “I mean, do you really want to bring up that bad memory again?”
Yes. That was where she had been burned. Why was he talking softer? As if it was a secret he didn’t want others to find out. He could say it. It wasn’t as if anyone could hear them.
“Don’t you see? That’s why I have to rebuild it.” She wouldn’t say the words out loud because Caleb would tell her what she felt was irrational, but ever since the fire, a part of her had felt trapped inside the ashes of the old church. Not long after the fire, she’d come up with the idea of rebuilding the church because it seemed like the only way to finally let go.
Caleb sighed. “Just tell me if you need something or if you need to talk or...you know. Anything.” The tone of his voice made it sound like he meant deep, serious talking, not simply an update about the church.
“Talk?”
“If you go through with it—rebuilding the church—it has the potential to drag up some really hard times for you. I’m here. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. Hey, I’ve got to go. I can’t ride my bike and talk on the cell at the same time.”
“I just love you, Shelb.”
“I know you do.”
How could she make him see? Rebuilding the church wouldn’t open old wounds.
No. It would finally heal her.
* * *
Joel strolled past the blazing-red fire engine, letting his fingers trail over the cool metal.
He