A Fresh Start
© 2013 Trisha Grace
Sometimes things don’t work out. Sometimes it feels as if everything is falling apart.
Paige Watson finds herself in that very situation. She has no choice but to leave behind everything she has worked so hard for and head to a small town in Wyoming. It is the only way she can escape the relentless monster that has been after her over the past three years. It is the only way she can feel safe again.
But God works in mysterious ways, and Paige begins to think that leaving everything behind may not be so bad when she ends up working with Justin Doyle to fix up her house.
Just as she is beginning to enjoy her fresh start in life, the monster she has been hiding from returns.
Her worst nightmare has come true, and this time … she may not have a chance to wake from it.
Enjoy the following excerpt for A Fresh Start - A Contemporary Christian Romance:
Prologue
Paige glanced around her apartment and shook her head. She was desperate for a solution, but the one presented to her wasn’t exactly what she was expecting.
“Paige, are you listening? It’s vital that you don’t tell anyone where you’re going.”
“I can’t just disappear, Drew. I have a job here; I can’t just quit. Besides, I’m still paying for this apartment. And how am I supposed to move all my things without letting anyone know I’m leaving?”
Andrew leaned forward, his elbows resting on his legs.
“Take only one suitcase; pack only the things you need. Tell everyone you know that you’re going on vacation.”
“One suitcase.” With a soft sigh, she skimmed her fingers down the arm of her beige couch. “And my work? I can’t just leave. The school will need to find someone else to teach my classes.”
“Tell only your boss. Explain your situation to her and tell her that she’ll have to give you a week to disappear. After that, she can find a replacement and tell everyone who asks that you’ve decided to quit your job and get a fresh start somewhere else. Summer semester is ending; I’m sure you can leave right after that.”
Paige twisted the ring around her index finger and watched the light flicker off the crystals surrounding the light pink flower. She could feel Andrew’s eyes on her as he waited for her to make a decision. She closed her eyes, but her mind was a complete blank.
She had no idea what she should do.
She’d worked so hard to build her life here; she didn’t want to be forced away.
Then again, she hadn’t had much of a life in the past three years.
She dropped her head back and sighed. It was too difficult a choice to make, so she did the one thing she knew couldn’t go wrong—trusting her brother. “Are you sure this is the best solution?”
“No, but I think you need to leave.”
She looked up at her stepbrother, whose watchful eyes were focused on her. “I’m so sorry.” Whatever she was going through was nothing compared with what he had already gone through.
Andrew had returned from Afghanistan a few weeks ago. He was sent home after having half of his left leg amputated. The doctors had recently fitted Andrew with his new prosthetic leg, and he should be concentrating on his rehabilitation.
Yet here he was, fixing her problem.
“For what? This is what big brothers do.” He cracked a smile. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. You, on the other hand, look like you need a break.”
With her palms clamped together, she pressed her index fingers against her lips.
“Leave this place. Get a new start,” Andrew said.
She drew a slow, deep breath before nodding and dropping her hands. “All right, tell me what to do.”
“Find a place to go and get yourself a place to stay, preferably in a small town—small enough to know whenever a newcomer arrives. That way, you’ll know if someone follows after you. I’ll get you a new laptop and cell phone. When you’re ready to leave, I’ll meet you somewhere along the way to pass them to you.”
“What should I bring?”
“Some clothes and whatever stuff you can’t live without. You can buy the rest after you’ve settled down.”
“Do I tell Mom? What should I say?”
“You just concentrate on things here. I’ll settle things with Mom. You do not call her until you get your new phone from me, understand?”
All Paige could do was nod.
“It’ll be all right.” Andrew held her hand between his and looked right into her eyes. “Everything will be all right.”
“How long will I need to run?” She could see his jaws tightening.
Andrew took a deep breath and said, “I don’t know, but I promise I’ll be right there with you if you need me.” He paused and continued after a small sigh. “You know what? Look at it as a chance for a fresh start, and don’t worry too much. For now, we’ll take it one step at a time. Choose where you want to go. I’ll take care of the rest for you.”
This was her only choice; there wasn’t any other way out—not if she wanted to keep her sanity.
Chapter One
Paige circled her house and looked up at the new ash-gray tiles on her roof. As she turned back to the front of the house, she reached into her back pocket and pulled out the check. “Thanks, Matt,” she said and smiled as she handed the check to Matt.
“You’re welcome. Let me know if there’s any problem.”
Paige nodded as the rest of Matt’s staff trotted down the small stone steps toward their truck.
“Ah, I almost forgot,” Matt said, reaching into a large black duffle bag containing his tools. “I have something for you.” He took out a white box and gave it to her. “It’s nothing expensive, just something for your house.”
Paige’s brows lifted as she took the box. “Thanks, you didn’t have to,” she said. “Should I open it now?”
“Go ahead.”
She opened the box and pulled out a simple wooden cross. Pursing her lips to stop herself from giggling, she looked up at Matt and asked, “You don’t believe the house is haunted, do you?”
Matt broke into a sheepish grin. “I saw your necklace and thought the cross would be a nice housewarming gift. Besides, it’s better to mark the house as God’s than whatever may or may not be out there.”
Paige reached for her necklace, and her fingers played with the cross pendant.
Her mother had given the necklace to her when she turned eighteen, and she was only wearing it out of habit.
She wasn’t sure what her stance was on God.
She had grown up in a staunch Christian family, but the unanswered prayers over the past three years had changed things. She couldn’t help but think that God had forgotten about her, and she had somewhat given up on God as well.
Still, it was sweet of Matt.
“You’re right, thanks. I’ll get it on the door once I can find a hammer and nail.”
“I’ll help you put it up.” Matt bent over and dug into his bag without waiting for Paige’s reply.
“Sure.” She placed the cross into Matt’s outstretched hand and watched him hurry over to her door.
“Is this okay? Is it slanted?”
“Nope, it looks great.”
He made a mark and hammered the nail in before placing the cross back in position. “Done.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, if you need anything else, let me know.”
“I will,” she said. “Thanks again for the cross.”
“No problem.”
She waved goodbye as Matt returned to his truck, and she waited until he pulled out of the street before turning back to look at her house.
She doubted there would be any issues with the workmanship. Both the painting and roof-tiling company came with great recommendations from her elderly neighbor, Mr. Seymour. Mr. Seymour had a form of quiet dignity and seemed like a trustworthy old man.
She stepped toward the house with a small smile.
There was no longer a light sheen on the newly painted panels of her house. Matte white panels now stood in front of her, replacing the dirty yellow paint that had been accompanied by numerous dark gray cracks.
New windows with ash-gray frames and new dark brown doors made her house safe and livable.
Now, after four days of work, Matt had replaced the crumbling muddy-brown roof shingles with a new set of ash-gray tiles.
From the outside, the house looked like a cute little cottage.
She had bought the house because of her vision of what it could become. Even in its dilapidated state, she could see the potential.
Hiring the spray painters for the external walls was definitely the right choice. It would’ve taken her forever to paint the walls on her own. Though getting the painters did cost her some money, it would’ve been more expensive if she were to stay at a hotel in Cheyenne while she worked on repainting the walls.
She jogged up the front steps to her door and looked up at the cross.
There was so much she wanted to say and ask, but she didn’t know where to start. She sighed softly, unlocked the door, and stepped into the house.
Everything on the outside looked new and wonderful, but the inside was another story.
The owners of the house had cleaned it up before the viewing, but the neglect of the house was obvious.
She exhaled heavily as she looked at the outdated and peeling wallpaper. All sorts of graffiti, ranging from pen marks to spray paint, coated the various walls.
Everything that remained in the house was falling apart as well.
The realtor had assured her that the foundations and walls were structurally safe even though the house hadn’t had an occupant for over fifteen years.
Paige scanned the living room just as she had on the day of the viewing, assessing the work she would have to do.
Going through the list of things to do was overwhelming, and she hadn’t thought it would be worth the effort.
That was until she heard the price.
She had done her research. Compared to New York, the average selling price of houses here was significantly lower.
But even in Pine Bluffs, the price for the house was too good to be true.
So she finally asked the question she should’ve asked right from the start. What was wrong with the house that left it unsold for over ten years?
The answer wasn’t exactly music to her ears.
Eighteen years ago, a woman had committed suicide in the house. A year after that, the couple who moved in had complained of seeing things and abandoned the house after a few months. Since then, rumors had spiraled out of control, and the house became the town’s infamous haunted house.
The reputation itself was enough to keep potential buyers at bay.
Its location—being perched on the edge of town with only one other house on the street and with its backyard leading to the forest—didn’t help.
Fortunately for the owners, she wasn’t one of those buyers.
After what she had been through over the past three years, she’d learned that the real evil in the world wasn’t the boogeyman hiding in the wardrobe or under the bed.
She’d considered the offer for another fifteen minutes, with the realtor quickly shaving another few thousand dollars off the price. It was tempting, but she wanted to run some calculations before making a decision.
So she went back to her hotel room, did some research, and came up with an estimate of how much it would cost to fix up the house before calling the realtor back with an offer.
After nearly a month in Pine Bluffs, she’d finally settled all the necessary paperwork for the house.
She took out her cell phone from her bag and recorded the latest payment while her mind ran through the figures of all that she’d spent.
With the new house and car, a loan for her apartment in New York, and all the work she’d need to do on the house, she had to be careful with her spending.
Leaving her door open, Paige went out of the house and walked down the stone steps to her car. She opened the rear door and stared at the bags of things she’d stuffed in there.
“Need help with that?”
She jumped and spun around to see her neighbor, Victor Seymour. The corner of his lips inched up slightly as if he were trying to conceal a grin.
She sighed, relieved.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Mr. Seymour said.
“It’s not your fault; I’m jumpy.”
“That’s true.”
She grimaced and shoved her hands into her jeans pockets. “I’m fine, though. Thanks for offering.”
She was glad the Seymours were her only neighbors.
The few times that she had gone out in town, walking around to familiarize herself with the area, she was approached by several different people. All of them greeted her zealously, but a few minutes into the conversations, she realized things wouldn’t be as easy as she’d hoped.
She tried to be friendly with everyone who came up to her, but she hated having to dodge all the questions about her past. The only thing she could do was to avoid conversations altogether by keeping out of sight.
The Seymours were the only ones who hadn’t tried to pry information out of her. They welcomed her to town, gave her a bag of muffins, and told her to ask if she needed any help. Mr. Seymour chatted with her for a while. Then, when asked, he suggested the two companies she could work with.
“The house looks good.”
“Only on the outside. I’m going to paint the rooms on my own. I’ve already bought the paint.”
“What about the pipes, bathroom, and kitchen cabinets?”
“I’m thinking of heading down to Cheyenne to find a contractor tomorrow.”
“Why not get someone in town? It’ll be much cheaper than whatever Cheyenne has to offer.”
Paige gave him a small smile. “Sounds like you have someone you’d like to recommend.”
“I do, actually.” He grinned. “I came out here to talk to you about that. My friend’s son, Travis, got fired a few months back and his wife’s pregnant, so he’s been picking up work to do. He’s good and honest. If you’re looking for someone to work on your house, you should get him; he knows what he’s doing.”
“Do you know him personally?” Paige asked.
“Yes, I watched him grow up.”
“And has he always lived in Pine Bluffs?”
The second question brought a slight furrowing of Mr. Seymour’s brows. “Yes. Don’t worry, I can vouch for him.”
She gave Mr. Seymour a wry smile. “It isn’t that. I just …” She paused for a moment, licking her lips. “I just prefer to work with someone who isn’t a complete stranger.”
“I understand. Do you want his number? You can meet up with him before making any decision. Don’t hire him just because I asked, all right?”
“Sounds good to me.”
Mr. Seymour reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of folded paper.
“Thank you.”
He waved it off and said, “Now, let me help.” He took a step forward and looked into the car. Then he glanced up the driveway that led right up to the open space in front of her house. “Why don’t you drive the car up front? Then you don’t have to carry all the things up the slope.”
Paige grimaced. She was hoping Mr. Seymour wouldn’t notice.
She loved the rocky steps on the grass patch right beside the road and didn’t want to risk ruining them. “I haven’t driven in a while. My driving skills are … rusty. I’m afraid I can’t reverse the car back down without destroying something.”
“If you trust an old man, I can drive it up, unload your things, and return your car right back here.”
She handed Mr. Seymour the key without a second thought. “I’ll be extremely grateful if you do.”
Paige climbed back up the stone path and watched Mr. Seymour maneuver the car with ease. As she looked on, she reminded herself to set time aside to practice her driving and, most importantly, her parking.
“Your car is complicated.”
“Tell me about it. My brother said I should get all those gizmos since my driving skills are so fantastic.”
Mr. Seymour laughed and proceeded to help her unload her things, carrying them into her living room.
For an old man, Mr. Seymour was rather strong. He carried a three-gallon water bottle without much effort and moved all three bottles without any complaints.
Paige tried to carry as many of the bags as possible so she didn’t have to trouble Mr. Seymour any more than needed.
“Are your electricity and water on?”
“Yes, I got my fridge and microwave, but the bathroom isn’t in a good condition.”
“Feel free to use ours,” he said. “And there’s another reason why I came out here. Celia would like to invite you over for dinner tonight. Don’t send me back with a ‘no’ because she’ll send me right out to ask you again before coming over on her own to force you to have dinner with us.”
Paige chuckled softly. She looked at all the things she’d bought. “I don’t have anything to bring over.”
“Bring yourself. There’s no need to bring anything else; she always cooks way too much.”
Paige smiled, hesitating for a moment.
“She’s a great chef.”
Paige laughed again. “Well then, I’ll definitely be there.”
Justin sat beside Amy while Travis washed the dishes. He got up and leaned against the kitchen counter, taking in the modern look of the house.
Though Travis was still living in the house he grew up in, he’d made significant changes to it.
The white wallpaper with ugly green leaf motifs had been removed, and the walls were now plain white.
Most of the furniture in the room was different as well.
“So, Justin, Travis says you’re flipping houses,” Amy said.
He nodded and took another mouth of his beer. “Yeah, I was in Cheyenne, so I thought I’d drop by and pay you guys a visit.”
“And how are you doing?”
“Good.”
Amy tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Really? You disappeared for nearly a decade. Now you’re back in your nice clothes with a pocket full of cash, but you’re still looking as unhappy as ever.”
Justin peered at his arm and wondered what was so nice about his shirt. He’d had a batch of them made a while back and had been wearing them since. It was probably time to get some new ones.
Looking back at the petite, ginger-haired Amy with a belly that was too huge a burden for a woman her size to handle, Justin grinned. “Who says I’m unhappy? Like you said, I have a pocket full of cash.”
“Then I guess you’ve found out that money doesn’t buy happiness, so stop offering money to Travis.”
“Treat it as an advance payment. I have my eyes on a few houses in Cheyenne, and I’ll need help fixing them up.”
“Then pay me when I start working. I don’t believe in advances,” Travis interrupted.
Justin raised his hands in peace. “Fine, just let me know if you guys need anything.”
“Don’t worry about us. There’s someone new in town. She bought the haunted house, and Mr. Seymour recommended my services. She gave me a call just now. I’m supposed to head over to meet her after dinner.”
“Someone bought the haunted house?” Justin asked, his curiosity about the courageous woman piqued.
“Oh, I want to show you the ultrasound photos of our twins!” Amy pushed herself off the seat, and both Justin and Travis immediately moved over to help.
“I’ll get them,” Travis said.
It was nice to see his two friends together.
He’d known Travis and Amy since they were kids. They were the only ones in town who didn’t shun or look down on him.
“It’s all right.” Amy stepped away from the table. “I can’t be sitting around all day. You guys talk.”
“She shouldn’t be walking at all,” Justin said after he was sure Amy couldn’t hear him.
“Try telling her that.”
“So, the haunted house?”
Travis grinned. “Right, a Paige Watson. I told her I’d swing by after dinner. From what I know of the house, there’ll be plenty of work to do.”
Before Justin could reply, a yelp came from the stairs. He and Travis hurried over and found Amy sitting in the middle of the flight of stairs.
“Did you fall?” Travis asked as he sprinted up, conquering three steps in one stride.
“I slipped; I’m fine, I think,” Amy said as Travis helped her to her feet.
“We’re going to the hospital.”
“But you’re supposed to go to the haunted house,” Amy said as her brows drew closer.
Travis froze for a split second.
“I’ll go,” Justin said with a shrug. “You take her to the hospital.”
Travis looked over at him and nodded. “Thanks.” After helping Amy into his truck, Travis handed Justin the house key. “Thanks, Justin.”
“Go.”
Justin locked up the house and drove toward the haunted house. He’d intended to join Travis on the trip anyway. He wanted to see for himself the woman brave enough to take on the infamous haunted house of Pine Bluffs.
The weather appeared to be helping him set the scene for his revisit. The dark clouds that had been hovering over the town started pouring, and with the strong wind, the heavy drops pelted against his truck’s windows.
It would be an interesting night.
His lips turned into a wide grin as he thought about the house.
One of the stupid things he’d done with Travis was to dare each other to go into the house. They always went in together, only to dash out soon after.
He didn’t believe in ghosts, but hearsay and overactive minds were more than enough to freak two kids out.
They weren’t the only ones.
With all the graffiti he had seen inside, there were plenty of stupid kids around.
Laughing to himself, he figured Travis was right. There would be work for him in that house.
Justin turned into the street he was once so familiar with, driving past the Seymours’ house and continuing toward his destination. A Subaru Forester blocked off the driveway leading up to the house. He frowned, wondering why the owner didn’t just park her car in the driveway or further up the street so that others could do so.
His palm hovered over the horn. He was tempted to force the owner to move her car, but he didn’t think Travis would appreciate him being rude to his potentially big client.
With a frustrated groan, he parked his car behind the Forester and ran up the slope to the house.
Getting wet didn’t bother him much, but he was peeved with how inconsiderate the owner was, especially since she was expecting someone to come over.
He suppressed his annoyance and knocked on the door, all the while standing under the small, pathetic shelter that didn’t do much good at keeping the rain off him.
After knocking a few times with no answer, he peered through the window into the well-lit house. Despite the lights, there didn’t seem to be anyone inside.
Even before actually meeting the owner, he was ready to leave.
But it wasn’t his job.
Travis needed the money, and Justin wasn’t going to screw it up for him.
Taking out his phone, he called Travis for Paige’s number. He tugged on the drenched shirt that was sticking to his body and continued to search for some movement within the house as he called Paige. “Paige Watson? This is Justin, Justin Doyle. I’m outside your house.”
He stared through the window, expecting to see a woman hurrying toward the door.
“Sorry, who are you?”
He gave a silent, frustrated sigh before realizing that Travis hadn’t informed Paige about sending someone else over. “Travis’s wife slipped and fell. They’re on their way to the hospital now, so he sent me over instead.”
“And you are?”
He drew a deep breath through his nose. This isn’t your job, he reminded himself. “Justin Doyle,” he repeated, slower this time.
Paige repeated his name, and he could hear it being repeated again in the background.
Frustrated with the further delay, he groaned before he could stop himself. Then he heard a familiar voice on the line telling him that Paige was next door, and he should head over to join them for some muffins.
The sudden change of events lightened his mood.
He looked out at the rain and shrugged. He was already drenched anyway.
Tucking in his chin, he headed out toward the Seymours’ house.
“Justin?”
He squinted through the rain as he heard his name. Between the downpour and the wind that was whipping rain right into his eyes each time he tried to open them, he couldn’t see who was calling out to him. All he saw was something red moving toward him.
He continued dashing forward as he heard his name again, this time nearer to him.
The first thing he saw was her light-amber eyes that were brightened by the contrast of her dark-chocolate hair flying around in the wind.
She held a red umbrella in her hand and smiled broadly at him even as she struggled against the wind to keep the umbrella upright. “Justin?” She stepped closer with her arm raised and held the umbrella over him. “Gosh, you’re all wet.”
Justin found himself staring at her as she moved closer. Her head came up to his chest, and she was probably only an inch away from him.
Another gust of wind rushed by, and she had to clutch her other hand around the umbrella’s handle to keep it from getting blown away.
His hand twitched, and he almost wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Shaking his head, he took the umbrella from her and tilted it forward. “You’re Paige Watson.”
She nodded.
When Travis told him that a Paige Watson had bought the haunted house, he had immediately assumed it was an old lady with plans to retire in a quiet town. The last thing he expected was to see someone like Paige.
Amid the rain, Paige’s eyes seemed to glow, capturing all of his attention.
She tucked her brown hair behind her ear and pressed her hand down against it. The rest of her hair continued to drift each time the wind swept by. Her brows drew closer even as she broadened her smile. “I just remembered where I left my car. I should’ve moved it further down the lane. I’m sorry you got wet,” she said, brushing the rain from her face.
The car. Right, he was supposed to be annoyed with her. “Let’s get in before you get drenched as well.”
Justin remained half a step behind Paige, their shoulders overlapping as they headed toward the Seymours’.
His height and large bone structure, coupled with his workouts, often led to people being cautious about him. But as he watched her, she continued strolling forward, her shoulders relaxed.
“Is Travis’s wife all right?” she asked.
“Huh?”
Paige peered over her shoulder and repeated. “Is Travis’s wife all right? You said she slipped and fell. She’s pregnant, right?”
“Oh, she seemed fine. She wasn’t in pain or anything. Travis just wanted to make sure.”
Paige nodded and brushed the rain from her arms as they stepped up on the deck. She was wearing just a tank top and a pair of jeans. Her hair was slightly damp while her jeans were soaked up to her knees.
“You shouldn’t have come out. Now you’re wet, too.”
She shrugged. “It’ll dry.”
“Justin! Finally back in Pine.”
“Mrs. Seymour.” He bent over and gave Mrs. Seymour a hug. “I like your new look,” he said as he tugged on a tightly wound curl.
Mrs. Seymour wriggled her brows and nudged her hair with her hand.
“Mr. Seymour.”
Mr. Seymour stepped toward Justin and gave him a hug. “Come in. You should’ve told us you were back.”
“Yes, come in, come in. Look at both of you. I’ll get you two some towels.” Mrs. Seymour headed into the house and disappeared up the stairs.
“I’m really sorry about the car, Justin.”
Mr. Seymour laughed throatily when he heard what Paige had said.
Justin turned to Mr. Seymour with a raised brow.
Clearing his throat, Mr. Seymour explained, “She has no confidence about driving up and down the slope. Besides, it’s my fault. I was the one who parked the car there after helping her unload her things. Forgive an old man, will you?”
No confidence? She didn’t look old, but she must be at least twenty-five. “A little rain won’t kill me.”
Mr. Seymour then asked about Travis, and Justin dutifully repeated the story.
“How are things with you?” Mr. Seymour asked.
“Good,” he answered while his eyes swept the room.
The sienna floorboards were the same, except more of the corners were chipped away. The same burgundy leather couch sat in the living room, and the same antique TV was still on the old cabinet in front of the couch.
Everything was exactly how he’d remembered; at least for the things he noticed. His eyes didn’t complete the scan of the room.
The moment his focus fell on Paige, he stopped looking anywhere else.
Paige stood with her hands in her back pockets. Her dark-chocolate hair, wet from the rain, shaded into black at the ends around her shoulders. Even after having her hair whipped by the wind and rain, she still looked stunning.
There was a glow about her. Maybe it was her fair skin, but she wasn’t that pale.
She rubbed her hands together and smiled when she saw him looking at her. Again, she didn’t seem concerned by his presence, and that somehow made him uneasy.
“Here you go.”
Reluctantly, he looked away from Paige and turned to take the towel from Mrs. Seymour. “Thanks.”
He didn’t understand what it was about Paige. Maybe it was her eyes, or maybe it was the way she smiled so warmly at everyone. No matter what it was, it attracted his attention.
Over the next few minutes, as Justin answered all the questions Mr. and Mrs. Seymour had for him, his eyes continued to flicker toward Paige.
At the back of his mind, he couldn’t help wondering why a woman like Paige would move into a house with such a story behind it. The moment he had the chance to slip a question in, he turned to Paige and asked, “So, what brought you to Pine and made you buy the haunted house?”
She chuckled softly. “Is that what everyone calls it?”
“Yeah. It’s the town’s famous—or infamous—haunted house. You do know about the suicide.”
“Justin.” Mrs. Seymour shot him a warning glare.
Paige’s lips curled further. “Yes, I figured something was wrong when I heard the price. I asked and they told me.”
“And you still bought it.”
“I wasn’t the one who killed her; there’s no reason for her to hurt me.”
“So you think she’s still in the house.”
“Justin.” Mrs. Seymour narrowed her eyes and held his gaze.
“It’s all right,” she said to Mrs. Seymour, half chuckling. “I don’t believe she’s still in the house. I’m simply saying that even if she is, there’s no reason for me to be afraid.”
Justin nodded, satisfied with the answer. “And what’s wrong with your driving skills?”
“I’m just used to taking the subway or taxi.”
He glanced over at Mrs. Seymour as he felt her staring at him, but he merely blinked and turned back to Paige. “You’re from New York?”
Paige opened her mouth to speak, but the words seemed to get stuck in her throat.
He frowned at her reaction. It wasn’t a personal detail that people would mind speaking of.
“She doesn’t like to talk about her past,” Mr. Seymour explained.
Justin returned his gaze to Paige.
Despite the small smile she kept displayed, her fingers played around with the ring on her right index finger.
He should let it go. He hardly knew her. He would only be taking a look at her house to see the work she needed done, then pass the information back to Travis. He probably wouldn’t be seeing her after tonight anyway.
But his eyes remained fixed on Paige. He observed her while his mind mused over all the reasons that could’ve brought her here.
“All right, stop talking and start eating. I’ll pack some for you kids to take home. You bring some back to Travis, too.”
“Oh, Mrs. Seymour, there’s no …” Paige’s words trailed off.
Probably because Mrs. Seymour had already vanished into the kitchen.
“She’s not going to take no for an answer,” Justin said as Mr. Seymour moved over to the couch and switched on the TV. “Maybe the two of you should stay here for a while. The rain doesn’t look like it’s letting up.”
Justin didn’t really care. He wasn’t going to melt from the rain anyway.
Looking over at Paige, he found her staring ruefully at the TV screen, completely unaware of Mr. Seymour’s suggestion.
Curious, he turned back to the TV.
Mr. Seymour had switched to a Christian channel, and there was a pastor preaching away.
Justin didn’t bother listening to what the preacher was saying. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’re not going to hell.”
“Hmm?” Paige took her attention off the TV and looked at him.
“These preachers are always telling people that they’ll be going to hell. Don’t take it personally.”
She broke into a grin. “You completely tuned out the pastor, didn’t you? He wasn’t talking about hell.”
“Here you go.” Mrs. Seymour walked out from the kitchen. “These two are the same.” She shook the two brown bags in her right hand. “You two choose either one,” she said to Paige. “This is for Travis; there are more muffins for Amy.” Then she handed all three bags over to Justin. “Do you kids want to stay here for a while longer? The rain is so heavy.”
Paige stared out at the rain. “It doesn’t look like it’s going to stop any time soon.”
His thoughts exactly. The sound of thunder was rolling by every couple of minutes, and the rain only seemed to get heavier as the clock ticked on.
But women tended to hate getting caught in the rain.
Paige swiveled back toward him. “I’m fine with it if you are.”
Justin’s brows flickered up before he shrugged. “Let’s go, then.”
Chapter Two
Paige stepped into the house and turned back to face Justin as he closed the umbrella and propped it against the wall. She saw how wet he was when he casually brushed the water from his arm and ran his hand through his hair.
Only his hair seemed to have escaped the rain, and under the lights, she could see the auburn in his medium-brown hair. His eyes shared the same shade of brown, and the combination of both gave him a rough, masculine edge.
She’d been nervous about the sudden change of person helping her with the house, but the Seymours clearly knew Justin well. Once she hung up the phone, Mrs. Seymour had picked up one of the photo frames near the dining table and pointed to the young boy in the photograph. The same boy appeared in most of their photos.
“Why do you leave your lights on when you aren’t home?”
“I don’t like coming back to a dark house,” she answered without turning to him.
“I thought you weren’t afraid of ghosts.”
“I’m not. I just don’t like the darkness.”
“There must be something in the dark that you’re afraid of. Kids have their boogeymen. What’s yours?”
“Do you like to psychoanalyze everyone you meet?”
“Do you evade every question people ask?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me so you can get out of fixing this house?”
Justin grinned as he looked around. “I’ve been inside here so many times—no more than fifteen minutes each time, I’m sure. Travis and I used to dare each other to come in here. Lots of other kids did that, too. Nothing much to do in a small town.”
“So the graffiti was drawn by kids, too? I was worried there would be squatters or homeless people coming by.”
“Have you fixed the locks on your doors and windows?”
“Yeah, a couple of days ago.”
“Where do you want this?” Justin asked, waving the bag of muffins. “You’ve only been here for a few days?”
She took the bag from him and headed into the kitchen to put the bag of muffins in the fridge. “I came here a couple of times to view the house and settle the paperwork and all,” she said, returning to the living room.
She found Justin down on one knee, studying the floor.
“But I just moved in today.”
He nodded and stood, brushing the dust off his jeans. “When is your furniture getting here?”
“I’ll be getting new furniture when the renovation is done.”
“Okay,” he said. “You should still get an alarm. If squatters or homeless people came by before, there’s a chance they’ll come back again.”
“Perfect,” she mumbled.
“But you’ve already repainted the exterior walls, so I’m sure they’ll know someone is living in the house now.”
She smiled, grateful that he was trying to make her feel better.
“Why don’t you stay with the Seymours? I can get the security system up for you tomorrow.”
“Don’t you need to ask Travis first?”
A drop of water fell from his hair, landing on the floor.
“I should get you a towel.” She jogged up the stairs, grabbed the clean towel from her suitcase, and headed back down. “Here you go.”
“I’m sure Travis will want to stay with Amy for a few days. I can get some work started and let him take over when he’s ready.”
“That’ll be great. But I do need a quote first; I have a budget.”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “I’ll take a look around and give you the quotation; Travis won’t mind.”
“All right, where should we start? Kitchen? Bathroom?”
“Security system first, bathroom, then bedroom. That way, you’ll have a proper place to rest while I work on the rest of the house.”
“I’ll show you the bathroom,” she said, going back up the stairs. “The security system … We don’t have to get the top of the line thing, right?” She still remembered how much she’d paid for her security system back in New York. It was money well wasted.
“We’ll get one of those DIY systems; it won’t cost much.”
“Great.”
“Why are you getting new furniture if you’re on a budget? I’m sure you already have some from where you were living before.”
She turned her face away from him as her fingers curled into a loose fist, allowing her thumb to play with the ring on her index finger. “I can’t bring it here.”
“Why not? Do you need someone to help you move? I know a guy.”
“No, it isn’t that.” She sighed and shook her head. “Forget it. It’s as good as gone.”
“Ex-boyfriend? I’ve got a guy for that, too.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head. She used to get frustrated whenever people got all protective of her. Now, such comments never failed to bring up a fond memory. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Justin hung the towel over his shoulders and grinned at Paige’s lighthearted chuckle. “What’s so funny?” he asked, taking a scan of the two bedrooms as he went past them.
He blinked when he saw the single piece of luggage lying open in the bigger bedroom. There were black bags of various sizes inside the suitcase. All of them were placed neatly side by side, with all the zippers facing one direction. There wasn’t a single piece of loose clothing tucked in a corner or anything strewn over it.
Bags within a bag.
And he thought he was neat.
That, however, wasn’t the strangest part of the picture.
“Is that all you brought?” People usually traveled with more than one piece of luggage, especially if they were intending to stay for a while.
“Yeah,” she said, lengthening her strides as she moved farther down toward another door.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was trying to deter any further questions on that subject.
She truly didn’t like speaking about her past.
Usually, he would shrug and move on, but with her, it fueled his interest.
Justin gave her another scan.
She looked like the prim and proper sort of woman who never did anything wrong in her life.
What could have made her leave everything behind and come all the way out to Pine?
“The bathroom.” Paige pushed open the new copper colored wood-stained door and stepped aside.
His eyes widened.
Hot pink tiles lined all the walls. The gaudy tiles were so pink that even decades of dirt couldn’t bring the shade down a notch.
The sink, bathtub, and toilet were coated with grime. Cracks, both fine and deep black lines, could be seen in the bathtub as well.
He was glad he had a strong stomach. “How do you want to fix the bathroom?”
“Complete revamp. First of all, the pink tiles have to go. I’m thinking of repainting the walls white and replacing the floor tiles with dark gray ones. I want to change the sink and all, too.”
Justin nodded. “I suggest you tile the walls around the bathtub, at least the bottom half. Tiles will last longer than paint would with all the water.”
“That’s fine with me.”
“White tiles?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I’ll probably need a week, and it’ll be rather dusty. I’ll remove the tiles and waterproof the bathroom floor before re-tiling.”
“It’s all right. I’ll stay in the next room until you’re done.”
“Why don’t you stay with the Seymours for a few days? I know they won’t mind.”
She leaned back against the door and asked, “Are you related to them?”
“No, but they’re like family to me.”
“I can see that. They have so many photos of you, but the way you addressed them … and you look quite different from them, too.”
He nodded slowly.
Paige continued watching him as if she still had questions to ask but wasn’t quite sure if she should. After a few moments, she smiled and stepped away from the bathroom.
“So, do you want me to help move your stuff over to the Seymours?”
“I think I’ll just stay here; I don’t want to trouble anyone.”
“Well, new-girl-in-town, if there’s one thing about the Seymours that you should know, it’s that they love having people over.”
Paige opened her mouth to speak, but she jumped and his head snapped to the side when a loud thud echoed from downstairs.
Her face blanched as she crossed her arms.
“Stay here.”
Her fingers dug into her arms. “It’s probably just the cabinet.”
He thought she didn’t believe in ghosts. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m sure. Do you want to check it out with me?”
He didn’t know why he offered. He wasn’t the chivalrous kind of man; he was always more of a mind-his-own-business kind of person.
“Yes.”
“Let’s go.”
He waited for her to join him before moving toward the stairs. They had just taken a few steps down when a bright light flashed, and the lights in the house went out.
Not much had changed in this town. Blackouts were common occurrences during thunderstorms.
A sudden roar of thunder followed almost instantly, and he heard Paige gasp.
Without thinking, he reached over and put his hand on Paige’s shoulder.
She screamed at his touch and took a step back.
Then, he felt her sudden grip on his arm as she fell back.
Tightening his grip on her shoulder, he took a step closer and wrapped his arm around her waist. He pulled her against him, making sure she didn’t fall down the stairs. “It’s okay, it’s me,” he said. “It’s just me.”
Another flash of lightning temporarily brought some light into the house, and he looked down at one of her hands clinging to his shirt. “Are you all right?”
She nodded and released his shirt. “Yes, I’m sorry,” she mumbled, smoothing down his shirt. “Sorry.”
He let go of her shoulder, but kept his arm around her waist. “Let’s go outside for a while. Be careful, we’re on the stairs.” He guided her down the stairs and opened the front door.
Once outside, he nudged her back against the wall to keep her out of the rain.
The small shelter remained as useless as ever, and they were quickly getting soaked.
“What happened to the Paige who wasn’t frightened of ghosts?” he teased when he saw the disquiet in her eyes.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “That’s not what I’m afraid of.”
His attempt at lightening the mood had failed terribly. “Hey,” he said softly and waited for her to look at him. “I was joking. Do you have a flashlight or some candles in the house?”
“No.”
“Wait here, I’ve got a flashlight in my car.” He pulled the towel from his shoulders and draped it over her shoulders and head.
Sprinting over to his car, he opened the passenger side door and took the flashlight from the glove compartment before returning to Paige.
She handed him the towel as he got closer. “I know it’s already wet, but it’s the only towel I have.”
“You gave me the only towel you have?” He shook his head and flung the towel over her. “Stay here, I’ll check out what that sound was.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s probably just the cabinets.” He entered the house again and used the flashlight to guide himself into the kitchen.
He knew the stories about the house, stories he’d heard as a child, were nonsensical. They were stories made up by adults who wanted to scare children.
But his heart rate had inched up a notch and seemed to be increasing with each passing second.
When he found the piece of cabinet door on the floor, he sighed and grinned. Shaking his head at his absurdity, he headed up the stairs to Paige’s room, took her suitcase, and went back outside.
“What are you doing?” she asked as she noticed the suitcase in his hand. “Is someone inside?”
For a moment, he was distracted by the fear in her eyes. It wasn’t just the usual concern he would expect from someone who had heard a strange noise in her house.
“Is there someone inside?” she shouted.
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “It’s just the kitchen cabinets.”
She closed her eyes, and her chest heaved.
“But you’re staying with the Seymours tonight.”
“No, there’s no need. I’m fine.” She looked up at him and cracked a smile.
“Do you want to stumble around your house in the dark?”
“Can’t you fix that?”
“I can, but I won’t.”
Paige brows drew closer. “Why not?”
He didn’t know why he was bothered about her safety, but he was. He couldn’t leave her alone in the house, especially not after the fear she’d displayed.
She might not be afraid of ghosts, but she was definitely afraid of something.
“Another lightning strike might take out the lights again. What are you going to do then?” He took the umbrella leaning against the wall and closed the door behind him. “Let’s go.”
“Oh, all right.”
She scooted under the umbrella, and they headed back to the Seymours’ house.
The lights must have gone out in their house, too. Through the windows, Justin could see the warm candlelight glow from within.
As they stepped up to the door, Paige took the umbrella from him. “Were you even sheltering yourself?” she asked, her eyes staring at the water dripping down his arm.
He brushed the water off, splattering droplets over the deck. “Don’t worry, I won’t melt,” he said and knocked on the door.
Mr. Seymour opened the door and smiled at them. “Lights went out?”
“Yeah. Can she stay here tonight? She doesn’t have any candles or anything.”
Mrs. Seymour peered out from behind her husband. “Of course, we were going to ask her to do that anyway. Come in,” she chimed. “You’re all wet again.”
Justin and Paige entered, and he heard Paige sigh as she rubbed her palms against her arms. “I’ll get some towels.”
“Victor, get them some towels. I’ll get more candles.” Mrs. Seymour tipped her chin toward the couch. “Sit. Hot tea? Coffee?”
“I’m fine. Thanks,” Paige said.
Justin set Paige’s suitcase by the door and headed into the kitchen with Mrs. Seymour. “Am I still allowed to take whatever I want?” he asked, already opening the cabinet where the hot chocolate used to be.
Mrs. Seymour laughed softly. “We don’t have any hot chocolate.”
He wasn’t expecting there to be any, but all her tea and coffee used to be kept there as well. And they still were. “Tea is fine. Do you want anything?”
“I just made myself a cup before the lights went out. I’m sure the water is still hot.”
Taking out two teabags, he placed them in two separate cups.
“I thought Paige said she didn’t want anything.”
“I think she just doesn’t want to trouble you.”
“You got to know her so well from the less than thirty minutes you spent at her house?” Mrs. Seymour arched a brow. “She’s a pretty girl.”
Justin reached for the kettle, pretending he hadn’t heard a word of what Mrs. Seymour had said. “Do you know what her story is?”
“So you are interested.”
He poured the still-hot water into the cups. “You should’ve seen her when the lights went out.”
“She’s a little jumpy. Victor said she got a shock when he called out to her this morning.” Mrs. Seymour gathered five candles in her hands. “I don’t know why, though. As Victor said, she doesn’t like to talk about her past.” Mrs. Seymour turned to leave the kitchen.
Justin trailed behind her with the two cups of tea he’d made.
Paige was on the couch, a dry towel over her shoulders, but she was still rubbing her palms together.
“Here. I hope tea is fine.” He set the cup down on the coffee table.
Her brows rose. “Thanks.”
She handed him the dry towel next to her, picked up the cup, and cradled it in her hands.
“Do me a favor.”
She looked at him and waited.
“Ask for whatever you need; don’t be shy with them.”
Paige stared at him for a moment before breaking into a smile. “I will.”
His lips curled, reflecting her smile. Settling a seat away from her, he took a sip of his tea while he observed Paige. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I’m so sorry about just now.”
“What were you so afraid of?”
She set her cup down and played with the ring on her index finger.
He stared at the silver band with a small pink flower sitting in the midst of a circle of white crystals. It wasn’t the kind of expensive and sophisticated design that many women her age tended to go for.
Then it clicked.
Gentleness—the ring added to the gentleness of her look. She wasn’t wearing a dress or anything, but her genuine smile made her appear more demure than anything else could.
“Justin, take Paige’s suitcase up to the guest room,” Mrs. Seymour ordered.
He stood and grabbed the suitcase. “She should be staying until her bathroom is ready.”
“Sure.”
Paige swiveled around and was clearly about to protest when Mrs. Seymour interrupted.
“You’re staying here until your bathroom is ready.”
Justin grinned as Paige pressed her lips into a thin line, nodded, then swiveled back around.