Then I heard my sister’s voice in my head. Do whatever it takes.
Maybe if I spend time with him alone, in my shop, I can get more information about the offer he made. Why he made it, for one thing. Why would a man who’s gone off and made a fancy life for himself in Boston—again, people talk—want to buy a house that’s walking that real estate listing line between a handyman’s special needing some TLC and a complete tear-down like a tightrope? And in a town he doesn’t spend a lot of time in. If there’s anything compelling I can use to convince Gin this is an offer she can’t pass up, I need to find it.
Even if that means being alone with Hayden Reilly.
Since I don’t have any more clients scheduled to come in, I start closing up. When Mr. Jensen is scheduled to bring in Aries, the family’s husky, he’s one of the few clients who has to stay through the session. And I always make sure they’re the last appointment of the day. Aries is very strong, highly melodramatic, and has the vocal range of an opera star. It takes both of us to get him fully groomed and by the time they leave, I’m exhausted. There’s also enough husky hair in my shop so I could spin it into yarn and knit an entire second dog.
Unfortunately, cleaning is a good way to burn off nerves, but it’s not a great mental distraction. My hands are busy, but my mind is free to think about the fact I’m going to see Hayden tomorrow.
Here. In my shop.
My junior year felt endless after that disastrous homecoming dance that wasn’t in October. I did everything I could to spend my days looking anywhere but at him. He seemed as devoted as I was to avoiding each other, so we rarely crossed paths. While I spent an overwhelming amount of time thinking about him, I rarely saw him and never spoke to him.
Then, about a week after the seniors graduated, I overheard two women standing in line at the market talking about the fact Colleen Reilly’s older son had left town. Even though I was angry and hadn’t spoken to him for months, I was heartbroken all over again.
Once I’ve locked up, I hurry directly to my car. I drove again because the weather forecast called for more rain, but they’d been wrong. The skies are blue, but I barely notice.
Even on the days I drive, I usually take a walk around the town square after work when the weather’s nice, but today is different. Today, Hayden is somewhere in Sumac Falls and I absolutely don’t want to risk running into him—especially after my wrestling match with Aries.
Even though I wouldn’t give him a glass of water if he was on fire, a woman wants to look her best when she runs into an ex. And maybe my best isn’t great, but I’m pretty sure my hair’s rocking ragged husky fur extensions right now.
When I pull into the driveway, my mother’s car isn’t in its usual spot in front of the lefthand garage door. We haven’t been able to park in the two-car garage since before my father died because it’s so full of junk. And not useful junk, but stuff my parents collected over the decades thanks to a mutual love of yard sales. Everything in there needs just a little fix, a new cord, or a coat of paint.
Or a bonfire, I think. The property as a whole would make a great training exercise for our volunteer fire department. Except for the part where Gin and I would be left with nothing, of course.
But if I can talk my mother into considering Hayden’s offer, we could start over. My mom could buy a cute little house and I could…do something. I don’t know what, but I’d be free to figure it out.
I look at the enormous Victorian home that generations of Gambles have been born and raised in. My great-great-grandfather built it, showing off what mill money could buy when you were the owner.
It’s three stories, with ornate trim and a deep porch. We don’t use the third floor anymore, having sealed it off so we don’t have to heat it. I go up there periodically to clean because the last thing we need is rodents or raccoons taking up permanent residency in our house, but we live our lives in the small, oddly-shaped rooms on the first and second floors. There was no such thing as open concept back in the day, I guess, but at least there are plenty of walls to decorate with Gamble family photos and yard sale paintings.
The outside was originally a deep yellow, with white trim and shutters. It’s a faded cream color now, peeling and chipping because that much paint is expensive and a painting crew would cost even more. I manage to keep the porch and front door in decent condition, but that’s about it.
Like a lot of New England mill towns that saw their mills close down, Sumac Falls was hit hard economically. But the Gamble family had already been living beyond their means and by the time my parents got the house, the money was gone. The house was the only thing left.
I talked to the bank once about taking out a personal loan. Gin refused to mortgage the property because that was a point of pride for her—she owns the house outright. But we needed money to update the electrical system.
Unfortunately, because of our income, we could only take a loan against the house, but they wanted the electrical system updated and the whole house painted first. We couldn’t even afford to get a loan. And it’s in worse condition now.
There’s no sensible reason for Hayden Reilly to buy this house.
We absolutely have to sell it to him.
A chiming sound interrupts my thoughts and I groan when I realize it didn’t come from my phone. It’s the light on my car’s dashboard, letting me know it’s going to run out of gas soon. Awesome.
I turn off the ignition, wanting to save every precious, overpriced drop of fuel I can, and then I lower my forehead to the steering wheel and try not to cry.
Chapter Six
Hayden
Dinner is a total waste of an excellent beef stroganoff. The vibe is so tense, the adults around the table are just shoveling the food in our mouths as an excuse not to talk. And the kids, who would rather have chicken nuggets, are mostly pushing it around on their plates.
My mother’s silent, but visibly angry. Aaron and Hope can probably guess I’m the one responsible for her mood, and that it has to do with the Gamble family. But they won’t ask about it and risk setting Colleen off with Daisy and AJ at the table.
Awkward silence only broken by the kids works for me because I don’t want to have any deep conversations about the Gamble house with my family. There’s only so much I can explain without sharing things I’d rather keep to myself—stuff I’ve never told them and hopefully never will.
My cover story about wanting to restore the old home to its former glory is thin, and it won’t stand up to too many hard questions. Nobody in this room has ever heard me express an interest in the restoration of old homes. And even if I want to flip a house or keep it as an investment, the fact I picked the one belonging to a woman I hate in a town I rarely visit is pretty sketchy.
