Home Sweet Home. Kim Watters

reception hall. He hovered behind her but allowed her to struggle with the lock, until she finally managed to jiggle the dead bolt and open the front door. An elderly woman stood on the porch, her hand patting down a stray flyaway from her salon coiffed hair, a nervous smile gracing her brightly painted lips.

      “Hello, Ms. Bancroft, My name is Kitty. Kitty Carlton. I used to help your grandmother with the housekeeping. I’m here to offer my services to you when you reopen.” The woman’s high-pitched words strung out in one big breath.

      “Hi, Kitty. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Abby’s lips pulled back, exposing her teeth, but a smile took a long time to form. She extended her hand to shake Kitty’s limp one. The woman’s clammy grasp reminded her of the worms she used to put on the hooks when she went fishing in the pond behind one of their many apartments in L.A. She did her best not to shake off the feeling when she let go or rub her hands across her jeans. Abby motioned for Cole to join her. “Thanks for your offer. I don’t need anyone quite yet. Not until the beginning of May. Cole and I are just going over the remodeling that needs to be done before I reopen, aren’t we, Cole?”

      “Cole? Cole who? I’d heard that you came alone.” Kitty’s open curiosity stung at the privacy Abby guarded carefully. The less people knew about her personal life, the less likely they were to hurt her emotionally. A lesson she should learn with Cole, yet somehow she sensed, or maybe hoped, he’d be different.

      Cole stepped out of the shadows. “Hello, Mrs. Carlton.”

      All the color fled from the elderly woman’s face, her voice frigid with contempt. “You have some nerve showing your face in this town, Cole Preston.”

      Abby’s stomach nose-dived to her feet. Between the handshake and her reaction to Cole, the woman wasn’t making a good lasting impression on her. It was all she could do not to shut the door in Kitty’s face, yet if she did, word would get around and probably ruin her chances of fitting in. Or would siding with Cole destroy it? Indecisions clawed at her until she knew what she had to do. “Why? He’s come to do the work.”

      Kitty’s piercing gaze stayed on Abby. “He’s trouble, that one. A bad seed like his dad. I wouldn’t let him inside my house or anywhere near my property.”

      The woman’s remarks continued to upset Abby. No one deserved such rude treatment no matter what the circumstances. If anyone should hold a grudge, it should be Abby, and yet she couldn’t find the way to do it. He had come to do the work after all, even if he was a year late. She lifted her chin and clenched her hands together. There was no way she’d ever hire Kitty Carlton to do one lick of work inside her home without a huge attitude adjustment. “Thanks for stopping by. When Cole and I are done with the remodel, I’ll let you know if I need your services.”

      “Why, after what happened and how he killed your grandparents—”

      “Now, now, Kitty. You know that’s not true. Charles had a bad heart and Sally couldn’t go on without him.” Mrs. Wendt tsked as she climbed up the front steps with a plate of fresh baked cookies in her hand. The aroma of oatmeal and cinnamon drifted by Abby’s nose, carried in on a small gust of cold air. “Besides, if I remember correctly, it was his partner that took the money. Why don’t you go bother someone else with your lies and sour attitude and leave these two alone?”

      Abby could have hugged her neighbor as the other woman retreated down the steps. “Goodbye then.”

      “Good riddance is more like it. Maybe if she found the Lord, she’d be more forgiving and accepting. Hi, Abby. Cole. It is good to see you again. It’s time you came home.” The older woman raised her eyebrows and stepped past him. Once inside the foyer, she glanced around. “My, my, this place does need some work, doesn’t it?”

      “Hi, Mrs. Wendt. Yes. Abby and I were just going through what needs to be done.” Cole wedged a hand through his hair and stepped back. His gaze met Abby’s.

      “Why, that’s wonderful. That means you’ll be here for a while.” Speculation sprinkled the elderly woman’s expression. “Phillip will be tickled. You don’t happen to have a son that can shovel our walk now, do you? Or rake our leaves or mow our lawn?”

      “No. I’m not married.”

      “Not married? What a shame.” Mrs. Wendt winked at Abby. “You’d be a fine catch for some lucky, single, young lady. Abby, I made you some cookies and came by to retrieve my casserole dish.”

      Cole’s stiffening back didn’t go unnoticed. Her neighbor’s words made him uncomfortable; her, too. Abby wasn’t here to find romance.

      “How’s your husband doing?” Cole questioned, as if trying to steer the conversation to a more neutral ground.

      Abby released the breath she held and filled her lungs with much needed oxygen. Mrs. Wendt’s gaze kept darting between the two of them and mischief crept into her smile. Dread filled Abby. Cole had admitted earlier he wasn’t the stay-around-for-the-long-haul kind of guy.

      “Just fine, though his arthritis is acting up with the cold weather. He wants to move but I can’t imagine leaving Dynamite Creek for Phoenix. This is my home and where I’m needed. So, Cole. Where are you staying while you do the restorations?” All innocence fled the woman’s expression and Abby’s knees threatened to have a meeting with the thin rug under her feet.

      Abby watched Cole back up until the railing stopped him. “I haven’t given that much thought, Mrs. Wendt. My first priority was to come here and get started on the house.”

      “Well, I know it’s not much, but Phillip and I have a small apartment above the garage that we’ve been wanting to rent out for a while. That way you won’t have a long commute to work.” Determination gleamed in her eyes. The woman’s grin released a million butterflies in Abby’s stomach.

      It took a few seconds for Cole to formulate an answer that Abby suspected was more for her benefit than Mrs. Wendt’s. “That’s very kind of you and it would be convenient. I haven’t had a chance to speak to my sister, but I suspect her place probably isn’t big enough for a semi-temporary guest and my mother’s is out of the question.” Cole’s gaze flipped between the two. “As long as you understand it’s nothing permanent. I’ll be moving on when I’m done here.”

      Relief and disappointment filled Abby, yet she schooled her expression to remain neutral. It was nothing she hadn’t expected anyway.

      “I understand completely. I’ll go put fresh linens on the bed and find the extra key. Oh, and I have a coupon for Mama Zita’s. It’s the best pizza in town, you know. Phillip can’t have it because of his high cholesterol, but you just have to try it tonight. Neither one of you had any dinner plans, did you? No? Good. I’m sure you’ll still have lots to discuss for what needs to be done here.” Helen thrust the plate of cookies into Abby’s hands and hummed on her way out the door.

      Abby’s jaw dropped and the butterflies inside her refused to be stilled. With Cole living next door during the restorations, she’d find no peace of mind at all. Especially when his new landlady appeared to have matchmaking on her mind.

      Chapter Three

      The knock on her front door just before seven o’clock still took Abby by surprise even though she expected it. Agreeing to Helen Wendt’s scheme of sharing a pizza at home with Cole so they could continue to go through plans probably wasn’t one of her smartest moves. Not like she had much choice in the matter. Her fingers smoothed out a tiny crease in the blue and white floral printed tablecloth she’d found in the linen closet. The automatic gesture reassured her, reminding her of how she used to rub her blankie between her fingers to calm down when she was a child. She glanced around the dining room before she stepped into the reception area.

      Her low heels clicked against the wood flooring and now she questioned her sanity as to why she’d changed into a skirt. Or let her hair down. Or applied just a hint of makeup. Would Cole think that she was going to be a willing participant in Mrs. Wendt’s matchmaking scheme?

      Her