Lakeside Sweetheart. Lenora Worth

Street, where all the quaint Victorian houses sat next to the few Cape Cod homes and the other one-story Craftsman cottages that were scattered throughout. The view across the water was breathtaking and beautiful.

      Until she spotted her house.

      The cottage looked sad and lonely, neglected.

      That mirrored how she’d felt most of her life. This house held a strong pull over her, one that she needed to resist and one she’d managed to avoid up until now.

      Ironic that now she had the security and wealth she’d always craved but she didn’t have anyone to share it with.

      Her mother had finally found her fairy tale with Richard Tucker, but it hadn’t lasted. He’d died a year after Vanessa left to go to college.

      Vanessa had never wanted a fairy tale. She’d only wanted a family. They’d had that with Richard. He’d been kind and gracious and so patient with her mother’s temperamental mood swings and crazy impulsive nature. He’d also taken time with Vanessa, showing her proper decorum and giving her instructions on manners and how to win over even her worst critics. But he’d done it all in a caring, loving way that made Vanessa feel treasured and special.

      Not ashamed and embarrassed.

      Still in shock from the lawyer’s news, she drove on around the lake and pulled up into the driveway of her house. When she got out of the car, she glanced toward the church and wondered what Rory was doing. Marla had told Vanessa that he lived in a small garage apartment behind the church. Maybe he would be a good person to talk to in confidence about her situation.

      But then again, maybe not. She was leery of showing him any signs of weakness even if he didn’t seem the type to take advantage of her.

      She wouldn’t be pulled into something she’d regret. She couldn’t be fooled into getting too close to organized religion again. She believed in God, but she was afraid of putting too much trust in people. The pain of her last encounter with a man of God still gave her nightmares.

      She couldn’t go through that again.

      No matter how much she needed a friend.

      * * *

      Rory went on with his day. It was nearly sundown now, so he finished up the yard work behind the church, careful to stay out of sight of the house across the street. But it hadn’t been easy to stay away after the heavy hints Miss Fanny had dropped regarding Vanessa’s past.

      Usually when a visitor came to church, some of the welcome committee members would take over a basket full of books, cookies, gift certificates to local establishments and ground coffee from Marla’s place with a cute Millbrook Lake Church mug sporting a pelican sitting on a pew with the caption Don’t fly by. Come on in.

      Sometimes, he’d tag along on these welcome visits.

      Not this time.

      It wasn’t that he didn’t want to reach out to Vanessa. But he’d counseled enough members of the military to know that when someone didn’t want to listen, it was hard to talk to them. Rory had his ways of helping people to find their faith, and those ways didn’t involve being pushy and too in-your-face. He’d have to bide his time with Vanessa Donovan. He’d seen people hurt by those who used their own agenda in the name of the Lord.

      It was never pretty.

      So now, he raked and prayed and raked some more and tried to think about what he could have for dinner. Maybe he’d go to the Back Bay Pizza House and order a takeout meatball sub. Or maybe he’d swing by the Courthouse Café and get a big hamburger and fries before they shut down for the day. Or he could pull out his bike and ride around the lake and stop at the Fish Barrel, the new alfresco dining truck that offered up some really good grouper sandwiches, shrimp baskets and other local fare.

      He was leaning toward the bike ride and the grouper sandwich when he heard a low, feminine groan echoing out over the street. Then he heard a thump and a crash, followed by another groan and the word “Ouch.”

      Dropping his rake, Rory peeped around the corner of the storage shed behind the church and saw Vanessa standing in the front yard by an old wheelbarrow full of trash. He watched as she tried to move the wheelbarrow, but one of the wheels had obviously gone flat. The weight of the trash wasn’t helping matters.

      That old thing wasn’t going to go anywhere except—

      Onto its side.

      It toppled over with a shudder of regret, causing another loud crash to reverberate up and down the street. Old glassware, plates, cups and other knickknacks spilled all over the driveway and sidewalk. And another groan of frustration followed.

      Okay, now he had to walk over there because he had to be gallant and helpful, didn’t he?

      “Need some help?” he called, to show he was only trying to be a gentleman.

      She glanced around, surprise brightening her shimmering eyes. Surprise, followed by what might be dread. “I’m beyond help.”

      “I wouldn’t say that,” he told her, his hands on his hips. “But...this wheelbarrow is beyond anything. I hope these dishes weren’t important.”

      She stared at the shattered mess lying at her feet. “No, not really.” But she picked up what looked like a children’s cup that had colorful princess characters on it. “Just stuff my mom had shoved into the garage out back. She was a bit of a hoarder.”

      Rory heard the pain behind that comment. And saw that pain reflected in Vanessa’s eyes while she moved her fingers over the faded little plastic cup. “Was that yours?” he asked as an opening.

      She nodded. “Once, long ago.”

      “Where were you taking these things?”

      “Out to the curb.” She tossed the cup back onto the pile. “I thought someone might come by and take them.”

      He gave her time to get past what she had to be thinking. It must be hard to let go of so many memories. “Let me help you get this cleaned up.”

      She waved him away. “You don’t have to do that.”

      “I have nothing else to do,” he said. “I’ve been doing yard work, and I was about to quit for the day.”

      She glanced at the church and then back at him, the struggle in her mind evident in her brooding expression.

      “I guess I could use some help,” she said. “I have to clean this place up, and that shed is just the beginning. I want to put a lot of the items from the estate sale out there, on display.”

      “Are you hiring an estate-sale manager?”

      Her dark eyebrows shot up. “I hadn’t planned on that since this is what I do for a living.” She stopped and stared at the little cup.

      “You work as an estate-sale manager?”

      “No, but I run a vintage shop in New Orleans and an online shopping site. Vanessa’s Vintage.”

      “Then you do know what you’re doing. We’re planning a rummage sale at the church in a few weeks, and one of our members used to be an estate-sale manager. She offered her services free to us. But we could coordinate things with your sale. Maybe hold them on the same day since we’re neighbors.” He stopped, waited a couple of beats. When she didn’t scowl at him, he added, “That is, if you’re okay with that idea.”

      She glanced at the church, and then she looked down at the old wheelbarrow. “I don’t know. I hope I’ll be gone in a few weeks.”

      “Forget I suggested it,” Rory said. “You have too much on your mind to add a church rummage sale to the mix.”

      “It’s okay,” she replied, pushing at her shoulder-length wavy bob. “I don’t know what I’m doing, really. I mean, I know vintage and collectibles, but I’ve never done this before. But I always managed to figure things out on my own.”