A Bride For Mr. Right (Redbud Romance Book 2) Page 2

  “That’s right.” Edee forced her attention to his face, and fought the urge to look at the man across from him. Looking at J.T. Knight scrambled her brains. “I’m also offering web design in case you’re interested in opening a website.”

  “Sounds good.” Sam gave a slow nod. “We’re happy to have new business in Redbud. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  “Thank yo—”

  “Hey, J.T., don’t you need a bookkeeper?” Stella nudged Edee with her elbow. “He’s a carpenter in case you need any work done.”

  “Oh, please!” Edee gave a shrug. “I don’t need a carpenter…I need magic.” Making a face, she laughed. “Nice to see you, Sam, Mr. Knight, bye, Stella.”

  J.T.’s breathe whistled past his lips as he watched the departing figure. “Well, I’ll be—”

  He stared after the blue and white skirt swishing from side to side in a mind numbing little wiggle as Edee Cutt departed, then glanced at Sam. “I’d bet my best hammer Ms. Edee Cutt just turned me down for a job.”

  Resting his forearms on the edge of the table, Sam just looked at him and shook his head.

  Hands on her hips, Stella stared at J.T. “You’ve done it now, J.T.”

  “What?”

  Gum popping louder than usual, Stella said. “You’ll find out.” And with a final glare, she whirled away.

  “What’s Stella talking about?”

  “I don’t know, but your expression is priceless…that’s how you looked in high school when some new girl caught your attention.”

  “Ummmh…” J.T. rubbed the side of his face and stared at the exit. “Naw, can’t be.”

  ***

  I need magic.

  Why had she said that? What if J.T. Knight or Stella had asked what she meant? Putting down roots in Redbud depended on her making a success of her business. Making a good impression was important, but a pair of green eyes had made her babble about magic.

  She didn’t want to look like a failure before she even started.

  Most people she had met since arriving in town remembered the way her father had left town after graduation and never returned. Few people expected her to stick around. Even fewer expected her to pull the bookkeeping business out of the hole.

  She didn’t want to fail. That’s why she had added web design to her efforts. Her work didn’t have to be in Redbud. She could pick up customers through the internet. But building a client list would take time and she needed an income now.

  But one smile from J.T. Knight had almost made her reveal how much she needed work and proved she was right. He was dangerous to her peace of mind.

  ***

  J.T. rambled down the street, looking at empty buildings, but his mind was on a pair of brown eyes and Edee Cutt’s parting words.

  I don’t need a carpenter, I need magic.

  He needed magic as well. He needed a building to grab his attention and wow his imagination so he would stop doubting his decision.

  His current location in Winston-Salem had expanded beyond his imagination. Who knew he would reach this point of success with his chosen career. Certainly, few people in Redbud had expected him to succeed.

  That was the reason he had to come back. Call it pride, stubbornness, stiff-necked stupidity, he didn’t care. He wanted to build his name and success in the town where he grew-up so he would finally fit in. He had thought of nothing else for years.

  But one encounter with a brown eyed stranger tipped him off balance. If he could fall under a woman’s spell that quick, how reliable was his judgment when it came to business?

  “J.T. is that you?”

  Turning, he saw a man waving at him from half a block away. Lifting his hand, J.T. picked up his step and met the realtor halfway. “How’re you doing, Dan?”

  “Sam said you might come by.” Dan Shriver waved at the building sitting on the corner in front of them. “This old lady appeal to you?”

  Looking at the glass front of the corner building across the street, J.T. shook his head. “Hadn’t considered the Beasley building.”

  “Come in, take a look.” Dan jangled a ring of keys. “You never know.”

  Still muddled from his encounter with Edee Cutt, J.T. shrugged. “May as well, but I’ve just started looking.”

  “Afraid I have several buildings for you to choose from. Kids grow up and move away. Redbud needs new blood.”

  An hour later, J.T. stood on the street staring at the Beasley building. “It’s big.”

  “This is the only building with a tenant. Ms. Emma Cutt rented that office around the side for her bookkeeping service. Her granddaughter plans to stay until the lease runs out. But there are other buildings for you to look at.”

  At mention of Edee’s name, J.T.’s interest perked up. “What happens to Ms. Cutt if I decide to buy the building?”

  ***

  Entering the old squeaking door to the office, Edee leaned back and closed her eyes. Every time she walked in, she imagined her grandmother sitting in the wooden swivel chair behind the ancient desk. How many newspaper columns had her grandmother pounded out of that old manual typewriter? How many annual reports had she typed for her bookkeeping clients?

  Working in the bookkeeping office was just one of the reasons Edee wanted to connect to her grandmother. Coming to live in Redbud was part of her plan to explore her family’s past. Now that her grandmother had passed away, she couldn’t learn about her family history, but she could save the business her grandmother had loved.

  In the past four years, she couldn’t count the times she had heard her grandmother say this business had saved her life after her son left town. Edee glanced around the room, absorbing her grandmother’s loneliness at the departure of her only child.

  Now that her grandmother had died, Edee couldn’t risk her father saying she had made a mistake in coming to Redbud.

  Swiping at dust motes floating in the light from the tall windows, she fell in the creaky chair, wondering how long her grandmother had been too ill to work. The room whispered of days past. Glancing at the bookshelves crammed to overflowing with papers and files, she sighed.

  She wanted to keep her grandmother’s memory and the business alive, but she needed to make the office look more modern. And the only thing she could do for now was pack up the bulging mass of papers from the past and streamline the office.

  After all the time they had missed being together, pangs of guilt washed over Edee for even thinking about packing things away. She wanted connections and that’s what all these old files represented. Was it wrong to want a place to belong?

  And her desire to settle in Redbud had nothing to do with the humor glinting in J.T. Knight’s eyes she promised herself as she was forced to read a file for the third time. Meeting him had thrown her off guard. She needed to focus on work and forget the unease his gleaming smile caused her emotions.

  After she almost knocked his head off with her knees, he probably thought she was clumsy and brainless. Not that his opinion mattered.

  From Stella’s comments, his past was as unsettled as hers had been, but for different reasons. If she were going to pay attention to anyone’s opinion, she wanted it to be someone who had lived in this town, forever and never wanted to leave.

  Someone who appreciated Redbud for the beauty and friendliness she had found here. Redbud made her feel at home. But, now that she thought about it, J.T. hadn’t answered when she asked how long he had been lost.

  Interesting!

  ***

  Sometime later, amid attempts at sorting through the bookkeeping records, Edee nearly jumped out of her skin when the office door screeched open. Pulling in a deep breath to calm her racing pulse, she managed a smile for the woman entering the dusty office.

  “Won’t you come in?”

  The woman, in a blue dress with rose print, stopped inside the door. Her blue-gray hair curled under a tiny blue hat matching her handbag and shoes. Edee fought back giggles as she noticed the newcome
r’s dress resembled the blue and white print she had on.

  Of course, her visitor wasn’t wearing dangling earrings, or strappy sandals. Shoulders back under the eagle-eyed inspection of the visitor, Edee struggled for a professional tone. “May I help you?”

  “Are you offering bookkeeping services, like Emma Margaret did?”

  Edee tried not to squirm under the piercing gaze. “Yes, ma’am—”

  “Good, good, we need to keep business in Redbud.”

  Easing her breath out in a relieved sigh, Edee motioned to the chair in front of the desk. I like your hat, Ms.—”

  “You ought to,” the woman’s keen glance landed on the hat Edee had plopped on top of her purse, “but this style looks better on me than it does on you.”

  Gulping back a laugh, Edee said. “Please, have a seat Ms—”

  “Pauline Morgan, the Mayor’s wife.” Her lips quivered as her bright glance met Edee’s. “Some people call me Mrs. Mayor, but you can call me Pauline.” She set a filled basket down on the desk with a thump. “I’m the Welcome Wagon.”

  “Why, thank you, Mrs.—” A piercing glance stopped the words in Edee’s mouth. “Umm, Pauline.”

  Back straight, Pauline gave a regal nod. “You might want to hold off on the thanks.”

  Arching a brow, Edee waved a hand. “I’m just glad someone walked in the door. The goody basket is an extra treat.”

  “The mayor sent me to tell you that business owners are expected to attend town council meetings.” Pauline’s keen gaze darted about the room. “Next meeting’s tomorrow night.”

  “I’ll be—”

  “You haven’t changed a thing.”

  “Pardon?”

  Pauline gestured toward the room as she sat on the edge of the visitor’s chair. “Everything looks as if Emma Margaret just walked out the door.”

  Edee blinked against a sudden rush of moisture from her eyes. Just when she thought she had her emotions under control, a new memory would pop up…or a comment like this would bring everything back, and with every beat of her heart, she wished things were different.

  Swallowing, she lifted her chin. “I like her decorating style.”

  Pauline made a sniffing sound that would have been a snort from someone less proper. “Looks like you raided Emma’s closet.” Then her expression softened. Her eyes warmed with concern. “Let the past go, girl. Be yourself.”

  Edee dropped her glance to the hands clenched in her lap. She knew this woman was right, but it wasn’t that easy. Her grandmother was all she’d had. She couldn’t count parents who never contacted her. And now she was on her own.

  Clearing her throat, Edee held Pauline’s stare. “This dress reminds me of her.”

  Slipping to the edge of her chair, her gaze boring into Edee, Pauline said. “Change happens, girl. You’re too young to hang on to the past. Grab life while you can.”

  Kindness echoed with each word, bringing a half smile to Edee’s lips. “I know—”

  Pauline rose. “What you need is some woman talk.”

  Edee released a shuddering breath as Pauline turned toward the door.

  What she needed was…

  “Sewing circle meets at Ellie’s quilt shop this afternoon. Come meet everyone.” Pauline walked to the door and turned. “Don’t be afraid to come because you’re new. Ellie married Sam last fall and opened the quilt shop. She started the meetings. It’s good therapy.” Pauline laughed bur her eyes were serious as she sent Edee a glance. “Four o’clock. Ellie’s quilt shop is down the street, be there.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  J.T. parked the pick-up in the gravel drive beside Mr. Jensen’s house and cut the engine. Everything looked the same. Paint peeled off the house and garage, and the old tool shed leaned, ready to collapse.

  But things looked different, too. The house needed a new roof. The porch sagged on one end. The mailbox hung awkwardly, ready to pitch into the road.

  Climbing out of the truck, he took a deep breath, savoring the sweet country air, and grinned at the unconscious act. He remembered that habit from years of working on Jensen’s farm.

  “That you, boy?”

  Turning toward the voice, J.T. saw the bent figure coming from behind the tool shed. Old man Jensen looked the same in a crumpled straw hat and denim overalls. He wiped his hands on a grease rag as he came toward J.T.

  J.T.’s chest tightened. Some things, like Mr. Jensen working on his tractor, never changed. And he let go a heartfelt sigh. “Yes, sir, it’s me. Back just like a bad penny.”

  “Took you long enough,” the gruff voice rumbled. Faded blue eyes looked J.T. up and down. “I don’t know about bad money, but I know when a boy’s been gone from home too long.”

  J.T. swallowed to keep from choking up. The welcoming tone in the old man’s voice felt good. Old man Jensen didn’t have a sentimental bone in his body, but his message was clear. He was glad to see the boy who had worked for him on the farm.

  “Place looks the same.”

  Mr. Jensen didn’t take his eyes off J.T.’s face. “Wife’s gone. Buried back ten years ago. Big storm last summer about took off the roof.”

  J.T. scuffed the toe of his work boot against a tuft of grass growing up through the gravel drive. “Sorry to hear about Mrs. Jensen.”

  The old man lifted his hat and scratched his head. “Always was frail. Lucky she lasted as long as she did.”

  And that was as close as the old man would come to admitting how much he missed his wife. J.T. glanced at the grease on the elderly man’s hands. “You got problems?”

  Mr. Jensen squinted down at the greasy rag in his hand. “Dang tractor won’t start.”

  “Let’s take a look.” J.T. turned toward the shed. The last five years he lived in town, he had worked at Jensen’s farm. The old place felt like home.

  Two hours later, he watched one corner of Mr. Jensen’s mouth lift as the tractor roared to life. “That’ll do, boy, that’ll do.”

  J.T. swallowed an unexpected rush of emotion as he heard the approval in the old man’s voice. “I’ll get the ladder and have a look at that roof.”

  The roof was beyond repair. Patching would just stall the final job, but he couldn’t start on the roof until he repaired the porch supports.

  “Why’d you stay away so long, boy?”

  Kneeling to scratch at the decayed wood around the bottom of the corner post, J.T. found the cause of the decay. “Termites. All four posts holding up the porch needed replacing.” Finally, looking over his shoulder, he squinted to hide his reaction and said, “Didn’t have any reason to come back.”

  “You gotta let go the past, boy. Let bygones be bygones, or else regret’ll eat you alive.”

  Standing up, J.T. slapped the post. The hollow sound confirmed his suspicions. Insects had tunneled the supports.

  Mr. Jensen was right about one thing. Holding on to the past didn’t make sense. That’s why he had swallowed his pride and come back.

  With his contracting firm flourishing, it was time to take a stand. He wanted to establish a home base for the company he had worked hard to build. Where better than the town he had left on the run? What better way was there to show the folks in Redbud how wrong they had been about his prospects than to return home as a success?

  “If you’re agreeable, I’ll get some new posts up on this porch. While I’m at it, I’ll order shingles for the roof.”

  Old man Jensen squinted out across the side field. “Can’t afford repairs, boy.”

  J.T. scuffed his toe in the ground. Mr. Jensen was the nearest thing he’d ever had to a grandfather. He couldn’t stand by and watch his place rot down. He had waited too long to come home, as it was.

  “You still got that spare room?”

  Mr. Jensen nodded. “Yours as long as you want.”

  Tension easing, J.T. grinned. “I’ll go order supplies.”

  Mr. Jensen’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down as if he had something stuck in his throat. Finally,
he turned. “Come out to the shed. I want to show you something.”

  The old man pulled a key ring from his pocket and put a key in the rusty lock on the shed’s wide doors. The hinges creaked in protest at being opened, and J.T. jumped to help swing the doors wide.

  Mr. Jensen stepped in the deep shadows of the old shed. Following the stooped figure, J.T. inhaled a deep breath. Even the air in the musty shed still smelled the same. His mouth tilted in a grin.

  It was the things that didn’t change that made you long for the past.

  He’d spent long happy hours in this shed learning to repair equipment at Mr. Jensen’s side. Back then, the only good part of his day had been working on this farm. The musty shed felt like home.

  “Here it is.” Mr. Jensen pulled a dusty tarp away, revealing handlebars.

  J.T. jumped to give a hand and once the tarp was off, his mouth hung open. “You saved my motor all this time?”

  The engine was too small to call the bike a motorcycle. From the time he was thirteen, with Mr. Jensen’s help, J.T. had worked to rebuild the engine from scraps he pulled out of the junk pile. One of the last things he had done was paint the old motorbike candy apple red.

  Months after he got the bike running he was on his way out of town.

  Mr. Jensen nodded. “Not much for wasting things.” His piercing glance held J.T.’s. “You always were good with your hands, boy. That’s why I pushed you to play sports.”

  ***

  “What are you doing to that dog?” Edee demanded, staring at J.T. as he kneeled on the sidewalk, and held his hand out to a stray dog she had seen around the barbershop.

  “Go away.” J.T. growled, startling Edee and the dog.

  Edee stepped back. Where was all the charm she had seen him use earlier? And why was he bothering this pitiful looking dog on his first day back in town. She took a step closer and looked. Sure enough, the thin haired dog was shivering.

  “I will not go away.” Lifting her chin, she prepared to take him on, brute strength and all. “That dog isn’t hurting you. He lives behind the barbershop. Why don’t you leave him alone?”