CHAPTER TWO
Heather Martin was true to her word. Fifteen minutes after Des’s call, Heather was in the lobby with Joe and waiting when the Hudson crew arrived.
Barney introduced her nieces, then Cara hung back to chat with Joe while Heather, Barney, Allie, and Des walked farther into the theater where the scaffolding reached two-thirds of the way to the ceiling.
Des went straight to the point, asking, “So is this covered or not?”
“The water damage caused by the wind, yes, but I’d like to see the coverage for the roofer, and I’d like one of our adjusters to go up and check the extent of the damage,” Heather replied, her eyes still on the ceiling. “It’s really a shame. That ceiling is just magnificent.”
“It was.” Des grimaced.
“It will be again,” Heather assured her. “It’s why you have insurance. To make you whole again.”
“Is that Ben up there?” Barney followed Allie’s gaze. “Benjamin Haldeman,” she called, “you know what you’re doing up there?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ben called back.
Out of the corner of her eye, Des watched Allie, who stood with her hands on her hips watching the man who began to descend carefully.
Heather glanced around the lobby. “I’m so glad you all are doing something with the theater. It’s a Hidden Falls treasure, and everyone I know is tickled pink that we’re going to have the theater back again. Of course, the young folks don’t have firsthand recollections of it, but I remember coming to plays here in the summer when I was just a little girl.”
“Well, maybe you’ll get to do that again someday,” Des told her.
Barney watched Ben drop to the floor from one of the lower rails. “Moonlighting as the roofing inspector now, Chief?”
“Just curious. I figured as long as the scaffold was already in place, I might as well climb up and take a look. I might never get another chance to see that chandelier up close. Sure is hot up there, though.” Ben wiped the sweat from his face with the end of his T-shirt.
“Heat rises. Or hadn’t you heard?” Allie stared.
He turned to her. “Well, Miss Personality. I’m surprised you left home to venture out on a hot day like this. Aren’t you afraid your makeup will melt?”
“I’m not wearing makeup.”
“You should. You could use some color.”
“And you should be out chasing felons.”
“I will be in about”—Ben looked at his watch—“fifty-five minutes.”
“You should leave now. It’ll take you at least that long to get prettied up for patrolling the mean streets of Hidden Falls.”
“Gotta keep my town safe,” he said, nodding in agreement, “from evil-deed doers and bitchery in all forms.”
Ben raised two fingers to his lips and whistled. Seconds later, a black-and-white dog raced from the direction of the stairs that led to the basement and crossed the lobby in a flash to sit at Ben’s feet.
“Good girl.” Ben leaned forward to rub behind the dog’s ear. He took a small treat from his pocket and gave it to the dog, who wagged her tail in response.
“Have you settled on a name for her yet, Ben?” Des asked.
“She answers to Girl, so maybe that was her name.”
“Girl? That’s it?” Allie raised an eyebrow. “You really named your female dog Girl? That’s the best you can do?”
“What’s wrong with Girl?”
“Your lack of imagination is stunning, though not totally unexpected.”
“Yeah, well, what would you have named her?”
“Something more original than Girl.”
“Come up with something better and I’ll consider it.” Ben dismissed Allie by turning away and addressing the others. “Good to see you, ladies.” He called to Joe, who was still off to the side with Cara. “See you around. Thanks for letting me check out the ceiling. I’d like to go back once you get enough scaffold to go all the way up.”
“Anytime.” Joe waved.
Des tapped Allie on the arm. “Why do you bait that man the way you do?”
“I don’t know. Something about him just brings out the best in me, I guess.”
“You mean the worst.”
“No. I mean the best.” Allie grinned. “He just tweaks that little old sarcastic streak of mine and I can’t seem to hold back.”
Des muttered something under her breath about not realizing that streak ever needed to be tweaked.
“Obviously I can’t evaluate the damage to the painted portions of the ceiling,” Heather was saying as she and Barney walked toward the door. “I can have a property adjuster over here as soon as I can shake someone free to take a look. But I’m afraid this storm has really overloaded our Claims Department. We’re going to be backed up for weeks.” She looked upward. “At the very least, I’m going to need photos of the damage to the ceiling.”
“Seth took a whole bunch this morning. He couldn’t get as close as he wanted to, but he used a telephoto lens and I know he got some shots that were pretty detailed,” Joe said. “He went home to run some hard copies off his computer. I’ll be happy to drop them off at your office.”
“That would be very helpful.” Heather smiled. “I can send those to our home office and see if anyone there knows an artist we could contact. Thanks, Joe.”
“And we’ll let you know if we find someone who looks promising.” Barney opened the door that led into the vestibule.
“Well, you have your work cut out for you,” Des told Allie.
Allie nodded, the sarcasm now tucked away. “I’ll start making calls as soon as we get back to the house.”
“I’ll see you there. I want to run upstairs to the projection room and check something out.” Des turned and headed for the steps leading to the second level.
Once upstairs, she went into the projection room and opened the closet door. There were several shelves of metal film canisters. She opened one, then another. Most were empty, but a few contained rolled-up film. She glanced at the old projector. How to determine if it still worked without risking ruining a film?
Des heard voices down below, then one drawing closer.
Seth MacLeod appeared in the doorway. He was tall, had a totally shaved head, and was dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a faded red T-shirt that had Born to Ride emblazoned over the Harley-Davidson logo and did little to hide his broad chest. Deep brown eyes set off by long dark lashes drew her gaze to his ruggedly handsome face. Tattoos covered both well-toned arms, and in his hand he carried a brown envelope. “Joe said he thought I’d find you up here. I thought you’d like to see the pictures of the ceiling I took this morning.”
“I would. Thanks.”
Des went back to the projection stand, the man close behind. She returned the metal canisters to the closet to clear a space on the table for the photos, then held her hand out.
Seth opened the envelope and handed her a few of the prints.
“Oh crap.” Des’s face fell. “It’s even worse than I thought.”
“There are very few things that can’t be fixed. This”—Seth picked up a close-up shot of one of the fleurs-de-lis—“can be fixed.”
“God, I hope you’re right.”
“I am.” Seth pointed at the projector. “So what are you doing with this little number? Planning on a little showing later?”
“Don’t I wish we were at that point. And don’t I wish I knew if this baby still worked. There are still a few reels of film around. I’d love to be able to see if any of them were any good. I don’t know how to work the projector, though, and I’d be afraid I’d ruin the films, if they aren’t already ruined.”
“Why would the films be ruined? Haven’t they been stored away?”
Des nodded.
“So maybe they’re still good.”
Seth stepped behind her, then reached around her to turn the projector toward him. He was so close Des could feel his breath on the side of her face. For a moment, she froze, remembering another small room, another time when she’d been trapped between arms stronger than hers. She tried to pull herself away from that long-ago memory, and reminded herself that this was Seth—not him. Not someone intent on hurting her.
“This still might work,” Seth was saying. “Mind if I take it home and tinker with it?”
Words stuck in her throat.
“Des?” His voice was soft, concerned.
He’s not a threat. He’s a friend. He would never hurt me.
“Des?” he repeated, one gentle hand touching her back. “You okay?”
“I’m good. Sorry. I just . . . yes, I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. His hand had moved to her shoulder, and she instinctively relaxed into its warmth.
“So what were you thinking about doing with the films?”
She turned around and leaned back against the table.
“Maybe charging to show them. Or sell them. Anything to make a little money to keep the bills paid.”
“Good thinking. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can do something with that.” He nodded in the direction of the projector, though his eyes were still locked with hers.
“All right.” She tried to look away, but he held her gaze.
“So.” His eyes darted from her face back to the photos that he’d left on the table. “I’ll drop these off at Heather’s office on my way back home. You want a copy? I’d be happy to run off an extra set.”
“Yes, I’d like that, thanks. I’m sure they’ll come in handy if we . . .” Des smiled before correcting herself. “When we find an artist.”
“That’s the spirit.” Seth looked as if he was about to say something more, but after a moment, merely said, “I’ll get you those photos.”
“Great. Thanks so much.” The spell was broken, so she walked with him to the top of the steps. “See you later.”
“You will,” he said without turning around.
She watched him descend the steps and cross the lobby, where he stopped to say something to Joe and Cara before he left. Des went back into the projector room to turn off the lights, thinking how grateful she was to have a friend like easygoing Seth, who was always encouraging and upbeat, who always looked for the good in everyone and every situation and always put people at ease. That’s what real friends do. They make you feel good about yourself and help you when you need it.
Must be why he was elected mayor of Hidden Falls three times.
When Des had rescued the three dogs—Buttons, Ripley, and Girl—a few months ago from the theater, where they’d been making their home, she quickly needed to find foster families for them if not adoptive ones. She and Barney had been in agreement about keeping Buttons, the smallest of the three, but she needed good homes for the two black-and-white border collies. When she appeared before the town council to inquire about zoning regulations regarding a potential rescue shelter, and mentioned she was looking for homes for the strays she’d found, Seth had not hesitated to offer to take one of the dogs. He’d immediately seemed to understand how important it was to her that the dogs not be taken to a nearby shelter, where their fates would be uncertain.
It brought a smile to Des’s face to remember how he’d all but bullied Ben into taking the other dog.
In the past, Des’s relationships with men had mostly consisted of dates she wished she hadn’t gone on. She couldn’t deny they mostly ended because she always sensed something lacking. Even though she’d never managed to give that something a name, she knew whatever it was, it had never been there for her, but she suspected it was close to the truth to say it might have something to do with trust.
She told herself she’d know when she found it, but until she did, she wasn’t going to settle for anything less. She’d heard too many cautionary tales about what happens when you compromise on what you really want. For heaven’s sake, look at her sisters! Both of them were divorced.
What had they compromised on for the sake of love?
A question for another time, Des thought as she joined Joe and Cara near the front door. For now, it was enough to know such compromises were not in her future. Love was complicated and messy and demanding, but friendship was simple and straightforward and easy, and it lasted. That’s what she had with Seth, and that was all she wanted.
“Girls, you picked one heck of a day to start working on the kitchen.” Barney stood in the doorway, her face flushed from the heat. “It’s hot as blazes in here.”
Des grabbed a stack of dinner plates from an open cupboard and set them on the floor in front of the fireplace. The table and the counters were already piled high with the contents of the cabinets.
“Hot as blazes, all right. But the taskmaster”—Des nodded in Allie’s direction—“decreed that today would be the day, so here we are.”
“No time like the present.” Allie stood in the middle of the room, a box of paintbrushes and supplies in her arms. “No point in putting it off, especially since we don’t know when work can be started in the theater. Might as well use the time while we have it.” She set the box on the window seat. “Barney, I have all the paint you asked for. I love that soft, warm white for the walls.” She gazed around the room. “It’s going to be fabulous.”
“I can’t wait to see it. How long do you think it’ll take?” Barney asked.
“Maybe a week, if we all work steadily and don’t get too distracted,” Allie told her.
“Well, I’m ready.” Barney rolled up the sleeves of her light blue shirt. “Where do I start?”
“We start by cleaning the cupboards and the shelves. Next, we’ll take the doors off, wash those down, and let them dry. After that, we wash the woodwork. Who’s doing the upper cabinets?” Allie asked.
“I am.” Barney raised her hand.
“I have the lower ones,” Cara said.
“Woodwork,” Des announced.
“And I have the walls. If anyone wants to trade, speak up now.” Allie’s gaze went from one face to the next. No one offered. “Okay, good. We’re set.” She turned toward the box of supplies, then stopped. “Oh, if you need help getting the cabinet doors off, let me know. And once they’ve been washed down and dried, use the paint sprayer instead of a brush. The paint will go on faster and more evenly. Any questions?”
Cara shook her head. “Nope.”
“Good. Des, I’ll help you wash the woodwork and paint it as well. It takes the longest, and I can help you once the walls are finished.”
“Shouldn’t you paint the woodwork first, and then the walls?” Des asked.
“Everyone has their own theory on this. Mine is that you paint the walls first, then tape over and around the woodwork so if you’re a little sloppy, the paint goes onto the tape. Once you’re done, the tape comes off.” Allie hastened to add, “Not that we’re aiming for sloppy here.”
“Got it.” Cara nodded. “Wait, is there a screwdriver? I need to take the hinges off the doors.”
“Yup.” Allie pointed to the box of supplies.
“Wow, you really are all over this project, aren’t you?” Cara went through the contents of the box and found the screwdriver, then proceeded to remove the upper cabinet doors with help from Barney.
“Once we finish washing the woodwork, I can give you a hand with the walls, Allie,” Des offered.
Allie was looking up at the ceiling. “I’m wondering if I shouldn’t paint that first.”
They all stopped what they were doing to look up.
“I don’t know. Won’t that be a colossal pain to do?” Barney asked. “And it really doesn’t look bad. I mean, it’s not dirty or anything.”
“I don’t know. I feel like we’re not doing the entire job.” Allie frowned.
“We definitely will need a ladder for that,” Cara said. “If you’re just going to the top of the wall, you can do that with a roller, maybe stand on a chair to do that upper part near the ceiling. But I think you need a ladder.”
“One thing I do not have,” Barney said.
“We can get one from Joe.” Cara pulled her phone from her pocket and speed-dialed. Within less than a half hour, Joe had delivered and set up a ladder for Allie.
“Want some help?” he said after he’d looked over the scope of their work.
“I think we’re good, but thanks.” Allie didn’t wait for anyone else to respond.
“If you need me, you know where to find me.” Joe gave Cara’s shoulder a squeeze before heading out the back door to his truck.
“Nice to have a handy guy on call,” Barney noted.
“Nice to have any guy on call,” Des agreed.
“Depends on the guy.” Allie turned on her iPhone and hit her favorite playlist, which contained mostly upbeat numbers favored by Nikki. “Music to work by, ladies. Feel free to sing along.”
And they did sing along, to Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga, Pink, Katy Perry.
“I don’t know any of those singers,” Barney announced. “Except for the Swift girl. Did you know she’s from right down around Reading?”
By late afternoon, the cabinet doors had all been washed and stood upright in front of the fireplace and along a wall to dry. The ceiling and one wall had been painted, all the woodwork had been washed and had dried, and three doors had been painted.
“It has to be about a hundred degrees in here.” Allie pulled her hair into as high a ponytail as it would go.
“A hundred and twenty, easy.” Des leaned against the counter.
Barney put down the paint sprayer. “Girls, stop what you’re doing, we’re wrapping it up for today. You’ve got thirty minutes to clean up. We’re going out for dinner.”
“That sounded like the closing whistle to me,” Des said. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” She put down her paintbrush.
“Hey, you can’t leave that there,” Allie pointed out. “Clean off the brush.” She pointed to the sink. “This paint cleans up with water.”
“Okay, make it forty minutes,” Barney said. “Allowing for cleanup here first.”
“I’m done and headed for the shower,” Cara announced before taking off for the back steps.
“I’m right behind you.” Allie finished washing her brush, then laid it on newspaper they’d used to cover the kitchen table. She turned off the music, then wandered out of the kitchen checking her phone for messages.
“Go on, Barney. I’ll finish up here,” Des told her.
“You sure?”
“Yup. I’ll just be a minute more.”
The kitchen had gone from a chatty space filled with music and singing to silence. Des finished cleaning the brushes and rinsed out the sprayer, checked to make sure the paint cans were tightly covered, then followed the others upstairs for a quick shower.
It had taken more than Barney’s previously decreed forty minutes, but soon enough, all four Hudson women were assembled in the front hall, cleaner and cooler and dressed casually and comfortably. Barney wore another of her cute T-shirt dresses—this one ocean blue to match her eyes—and both Des and Cara had put on khaki shorts and striped T-shirts and had to work to keep their curls under control. Allie wore a black tank and white shorts, and her hair looked perfect. Des couldn’t help but comment as they walked out the front door.
“Al, you know I’d kill for your hair, right?” she said.
“Note to self: Sleep with one eye open.” Allie tossed that long sheaf of hair over one shoulder as Barney locked the door behind them and headed down the front steps to the walk. “Wait, why aren’t we driving?” Allie remained on the top step.
“We’re only going two blocks, Allie.” Barney kept walking without turning around. “By the time I got Lucille started up and backed out of the garage, we could be there.”
Allie groaned and muttered something about sweating to death, then followed the others.
“Besides,” Barney continued, “Lucille’s air-conditioning has been acting up lately. I keep meaning to take her into the shop to have it fixed, but I keep forgetting.”
“Where’s there a Cadillac dealer around here?” Des fell into step behind Barney and next to Cara.
Barney was obviously appalled. “I wouldn’t take Lucille to a dealer. Why, those young folks they have working on cars today only know how to do what the computers tell them to do. They wouldn’t know what to do with a fine vintage automobile like Lucille. Took her into the dealer for an oil change about ten years ago and they put in the wrong kind. She wheezed like an asthmatic. Had to have her engine drained. She hasn’t seen the inside of a dealer’s garage since.”
“Well, where do you take her?” Des asked.
“Billy Jurczak, over on Constitution Avenue. That man understands the needs of a 1968 Cadillac DeVille. Knows his way around a V-8 engine.” Barney looked over her shoulder to Des. “No one touches Lucille except Billy.”
Des and Cara exchanged an amused glance. Their aunt’s Cadillac convertible—complete with red leather interior—was Barney’s pride and joy. They’d heard the story several times how the car had been a gift from Barney’s father to her mother, how her mother had adored the car and drove it with a lead foot until her dementia became pronounced. It had fallen to Barney to hide the keys, “finding” them only to take her mother to the doctor or for a ride through the countryside on days when she was up to it. Everyone in Hidden Falls knew Lucille; she’d become sort of a celebrity in town.
“Barney, I keep meaning to ask you: Who lives in that house across the street from our driveway?” Des turned to point behind them to the Tudor that sat behind a tall row of evergreens. “I never see anyone around.”
Barney turned to look. “Oh, that’s the old Brookes place. Mrs. Brookes passed away last year, Mr. Brookes died years ago. Fifteen maybe? Anyway, it’s been awhile. They were both buried in Maryland, where they were from originally. All the services were there. Mrs. Brookes kept up the house as long as she could, bless her heart. She was a lovely woman.”
“Who lives there now?” Des asked.
“No one. I think the children—Thomas, Emily, and Stephen—jointly inherited the property, but last I heard Emily’s living in London with her family, Stephen died in Vietnam, and Thomas . . . he joined the army after his brother was killed. Career officer, retired now, I’m sure. I haven’t seen him in years.”
She resumed walking.
“So the house is just sitting there?” Des was the last to catch up with the others.
“Until someone comes along to empty it, or sell it, I suppose it will.”
“You must have known the family well. They lived right there. You were neighbors.” For some reason, Des wasn’t finished with the Brookeses.
“Of course I knew them well. Thomas and Gil were the same age and good friends, Emily was in my grade, and Stephen and your father were classmates. He and Fritz and Pete were inseparable for years. I checked in with Mrs. Brookes frequently over the years. She and my mother played cards together.”
“Were you and Emily good friends?”
Barney didn’t respond immediately. Finally, she said simply, “For a time.”
They’d reached the corner of Main and Hudson, where the light was still green.
“Hurry up, and we’ll make it before the light turns red,” Barney told them. “I’m hoping it’s not too late for us to get a good table at the Goodbye.”
The Goodbye Café, so called because it had the reputation of being the place where you’d take your significant other to give them the news that they’d lost their significance, was one of only two restaurants in Hidden Falls—the other was the Hudson Diner—and the only one that understood what “farm to table” and “locally sourced” meant. The real name of the restaurant was the Green Brier Café, but only visitors to the town referred to it as such. The owner, Judy Worrell, was amused by its nickname, and even she referred to it as the Goodbye.
Tonight Judy was at the door greeting guests.
“Hello, girls. Barney, you’re looking well.” Judy smiled as they entered. “Four for dinner?”
“Yes,” Barney told her. “We’ve come for a delicious meal in air-conditioned comfort. It’s nice and cool in here, so we’re halfway to our goal.”
“Everything here is delicious, as you well know.” Judy handed Barney four menus and flagged down a waitress. “Table for four. Enjoy, ladies. Barney, I’ll need to talk to you before you leave.”
“Oh? What’s up?” Barney paused midstep.
“Some complications with Fourth of July. We’ll talk after you’ve eaten.”
Barney nodded and followed their waitress to their table.
“What happens on Fourth of July?” Des asked as they seated themselves.
“The usual hoopla that small towns all do. Parade complete with marching bands in the morning followed by games for kids at the park. Home barbecues. Fireworks at night. It’s the same every year. Probably the same everywhere else, too.” Barney began to read the menu.
“That’s July Fourth in Devlin’s Light exactly. I always loved those days.” Cara pulled her chair closer to the table to permit a waiter to pass behind her.
“Same back in Cross Creek,” Des told them. “So very traditional and fun. Classic USA.” Des turned to Allie. “I don’t remember much hoopla when we were growing up, but how ’bout in L.A. these days? Parades? Fireworks?”
Allie shrugged. “I suppose. I’m guessing there were parades. I might have seen one on TV one time.”
“Are you telling us you never went to a Fourth of July parade?” Barney looked horrified.
“That’s what I said, yes.” Allie didn’t raise her eyes from the menu.
“You never took Nikki to a parade?”
Allie shrugged. “What can I say? Clint hated that sort of thing, so we never went.”
“So Nikki never took part in a parade or . . .”
“Unless she went with a friend sometime. Maybe she did. I don’t remember.” Allie focused her attention on the menu. “The Cobb salad with grilled chicken looks decent.”
“I think I’ll go with that, too.” Vegetarian Cara added, “Without the chicken.”
“Well, Nikki’s going to get the full treatment this year.” Barney put her menu down. “Maybe there’s even a place for her in the parade, you never know.”
“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to death to hear it.” Allie finally looked up. “Everyone ready to order?”
True to her word, Judy showed up at the table as soon as everyone finished their meals.
“So how was everything?” She stood behind Barney and surveyed the table.
“Great,” everyone agreed.
Judy pulled a chair from a nearby table and sat between Barney and Des. “So here’s where we are for the Fourth. You know how Dan Hunter usually drives his classic Model-T Ford at the front of the parade?”
Barney nodded. “Been doing that for years. His father drove that car before him. I can’t remember when that old car wasn’t out there leading the parade.”
“Well, it won’t be this year. Maybe never again. Something’s wrong with the engine—it needs some part or other—and Dan hasn’t been able to find a replacement. So unless he’s able to find that part, and someone with the know-how to replace it, we’re without a classic car to start off the parade.” Judy stared meaningfully at Barney.
“You want Lucille.”
Judy nodded. “We do. The committee chair called an emergency meeting last night. Ross Whalen—”
“Cranky old coot,” Barney muttered.
“Yeah, he is. Anyway, he offered to drive if . . .”
Barney’s eyes grew wide, her brows reaching almost to her hairline. “Ross Whalen is not touching Lucille. No one drives her but me. No one.” She paused. “Maybe one of my girls here, eventually, but Whalen? Nope.”
“The mayor said you’d say that. He suggested you drive.” Judy leaned back in her chair as the waitress cleared the dinner plates from the table.
“Bless Seth for having my back.” Barney smiled.
“So what do you say? I know you like sitting there on the corner in your folding chair, watching the parade go by while you drink your iced coffee, but . . .”
“Oh, of course I’ll drive Lucille in the parade. And afterward, you can buy me an iced coffee.”
“Thank you. I’ll make good on the coffee, and I’ll let the others know you’re in.” Judy stood.
When Judy was out of earshot, Allie asked, “So what’s the big deal about driving the car in the parade?”
“It’s an honor to lead the parade, one that’s always belonged to the Hunters, as they owned the oldest car in town,” Barney explained. “I guess that makes Lucille the second oldest.” She frowned. “The Petersons have a 1940 Dodge, but I don’t know if it still runs. And it’s not a convertible. Gotta have a convertible at the head of the parade.”
“Why?” Des asked.
“So you can see the dignitaries in the back seat, of course.” Barney stood. “Ready, girls?”
Barney paid at the register while the girls filed out onto the pavement. On the walk home, they peered into store windows, waved to the passing cars, and debated what qualified one for dignitary status in Hidden Falls.
They’d reached the sidewalk in front of the family home when a large black-and-white dog streaked across the lawn, then turned and headed directly for them.
“Ripley!” Des braced as the dog launched himself at her. “Down, boy. Get down.” She looked up as Seth jogged toward them. “So much for all those hours we spent training him over the past few months.”
“Down, Ripley,” Seth reprimanded his dog. “Sorry, Des.”
“He’s all right. He’s just happy to see me.” Des pushed the dog off her. “Sit, bud. Sit.”
The dog sat and looked up at her expectedly.
“He thinks you’re going to give him a hamburger,” Allie said. “Like the way you did to coax him out of the theater.”
“Ah, the old burger lure. Works every time.” Des recalled the day she lured the three dogs from the hole in the side of the exterior theater wall.
“Seth, I appreciate you speaking up for me at the meeting last night.” Barney crossed her arms over her chest. “To think I’d ever let that fool Whalen behind the wheel of my car is ludicrous.”
“We all knew that would never happen,” Seth said. “You will do it, though, right? You’ll lead the parade this year?”
“Of course. It will be an honor and a pleasure.” Barney’s eyes narrowed. “But I get to pick who rides in the back seat.”
Seth laughed. “I told them you’d say that, too. You just do your thing, Ms. Hudson. The rest of us will fall in line.”
“You’re a good boy, Seth MacLeod.” Barney patted him on the arm and headed for the house. “You keep working on putting some manners on that dog of yours, hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded.
“I have a few phone calls to make.” Cara followed Barney on the sidewalk that led to the front porch. “See you around.”
“So do I. See you, Seth.” Allie fell in step with Cara.
Des turned to Seth. “So where are you off to? Aren’t you a ways from your place?”
“I was just trying to get my boy here out for some exercise.”
“Good for all dogs, but yeah, border collies like to run.” She glanced down at Ripley, who’d plopped at Seth’s feet. “Do you want some water for him? He looks winded.”
“I’m sure he’d appreciate it. Thanks.”
As soon as Des and Seth turned toward the house, the dog took off up the path.
“I guess he remembers Buttons lives here.”
“He always pulls on his leash when we pass by,” Seth admitted. “I’m not sure whether it’s Buttons he’s looking for or you.”
“Well, I was his first human friend here in Hidden Falls,” Des reminded him. “A little hamburger goes a long way for a starving dog.”
“I sometimes think about what might have happened to them if you hadn’t come along when you did.”
“Someone else would have noticed them going in and out of the wall eventually. And the bartender at the Frog was feeding them when they came around.”
“True, but they’d have still been homeless. You got them to come out, got them to the vet, and bullied your friends until they agreed to adopt them.”
“If I recall correctly, you stepped right up to take Ripley, and if anyone was bullied, it was Ben when you twisted his arm into taking the female.”
“Do you believe he still hasn’t given that dog a proper name?”
“Yeah, I think we’re going to have to shame him into doing something about that.” Des grinned. “Even Allie was giving him a hard time about his lack of imagination.”
“Allie seems to give Ben a hard time about everything.”
“She enjoys it. Sometimes I think my sister isn’t happy if she isn’t giving someone a bad day.”
Ripley reached the front porch, then sniffed around the door, wagging his tale.
“I’ll go in and get some water for him and see if Buttons wants to come out and play. Have a seat.” Des opened the front door and disappeared inside.
When she returned, water bowl in her hands and two bottles of beer under her arm, an excited small white dog dashed past her to greet her friends, canine and human. Des placed the water bowl on the porch, but Ripley raced past it and Seth, who’d seated himself on the steps, to chase Buttons across the front lawn.
Des handed Seth a beer and stood on the step to watch the dogs play for a moment.
“Thanks.” He twisted off the cap and took a drink.
“The pups look like they’re having fun.” She sat next to Seth and watched Buttons pursue Ripley up the driveway toward the carriage house.
“Yeah, they’re good friends. There’s no telling where they’d been or what they’d gone through together. They do have a bond.”
The two dogs raced around the side of the house and across the lawn.
“So did you have time to take a closer look at that projector?” she asked.
“I did. It’s a Super Simplex XL. I’m pretty sure the body is from the 1930s or forties, but it appears to have been modified at some point, probably in the fifties or sixties. I’m guessing that’s when the Xenon lamp illumination was added.”
She stared at him, drop-jawed. “How did you find out all that so fast?”
Seth grinned. “Magellan Express, my favorite search engine.”
“Do you think the projector still works?”
“Right now, it would not. There’s a piece broken off from the shutter feed, and I’m not sure if it can be replaced.”
“What’s a shutter feed?”
“See if you can picture this. The film is on two reels, one near the bottom of the projector, one at the top.” He held his hands at six and twelve o’clock. “It’s fed from the bottom reel through the gate and the image is projected onto the lens, and the shutter feed moves the film onto the upper reel.”
“What if you can’t replace the feed?”
“There are a bunch of projectors of this vintage on eBay. We can replace it if we have to, but it would be way cooler to have the original to use in the theater.”
“Why didn’t I think of eBay?” she said.
“I didn’t at first, either. But there are a few of this model for sale. If you want, I’ll try to call around, see what I can find out about prices, conditions, that sort of thing.”
“I don’t want to impose on you.” Her shoulder brushed against his upper arm, and she felt a sudden little zing where he touched her. She leaned away to rest her back against one of the porch pillars. She’d grown so comfortable in his company over time that the little bit of electricity caught her off guard.
“It’s no imposition. I’m kind of intrigued by how it works. I’d like to learn more about how it’s put together. Besides, it’s interesting to see how projectors evolved along with the films.”
“If you’re sure you don’t mind . . .” She opened her bottle and took a sip, wondering if he’d felt that . . . whatever it had been. There was no way she was going to put a name to it.
“I’m positive. Besides, I like being involved in this project. The theater was the heart of this town once. I think it can be again.” He fell silent. “Being there this afternoon brought back memories. I remember once when I was about six or seven, they opened the theater for the Halloween parade. It had been pouring rain for days and didn’t look as if it was going to let up. The town council was going to cancel the parade, but someone—in retrospect, it must have been Barney—suggested that the parade take place inside the Sugarhouse. We all dressed up in our costumes and paraded through the lobby, down the aisle, and up onto the stage. They gave prizes for the best costumes.”
“Did you win?”
Seth laughed. “In my white sheet? Hardly. But we had a great time that night. Ben and Joe were ghosts, too, and the three of us ran back and forth across the stage yelling boo until someone corralled us and sent us back down the steps.”
“I would have thought a performance like that would have earned a prize.”
He shook his head. “There’s no accounting for taste. I think first prize went to Cinderella, and the runners-up were a couple of pirates and a kid in a bear costume whose father was principal of the high school.” He smiled at the memory.
“You three have been friends for that long?”
“Since kindergarten.” He smiled. “Small towns are like that, Des. You grow up knowing everyone. You stay long enough, you become part of it.”
“I don’t think I even remember the names of the kids I went to kindergarten with.”
“Did you change schools after kindergarten? Go to a different elementary school?”
“I didn’t have friends from school. We were homeschooled after about second or third grade. I don’t remember much before that.”
“Your mother homeschooled you?”
Des burst out laughing. “My mother? Oh God, no. She’d have died first. No, no, we had a tutor.” She paused. “You know I used to be on a TV show when I was young, right?”
“There was talk about Barney’s nieces doing some acting. I’m pretty sure my sister watched your show for a few years.” He added almost apologetically, “I never was one to sit and watch television much. I spent most of my time outside.”
“No need to apologize. It was pretty much a girly show, though I wish we’d taken a different direction with it.” She rolled her eyes. “Not that anyone ever asked me.”
“You sound like you didn’t like it much.”
“I hated it. I never wanted to do it. It was my mother’s idea.” Des shook her head slowly. “I did everything I could to get out of it. That show took my childhood and ruined my relationship with my sister.”
“You seem to get along okay now.”
“Some of the time. But there’s always this undertone of resentment. Allie has never forgiven me for getting that role. She wanted it, I didn’t, I got it. That’s the short version.”
“Maybe someday I’ll get to hear the whole story.”
“Maybe someday you will.” She tried to think of a polite way to change the subject.
Seth must have picked up on that, because he asked, “Do you miss the shelter you ran in Montana?”
“I do, but someone else actually runs it. Mostly I worked with the problem dogs.”
“What constitutes a ‘problem dog’? You don’t mean vicious dogs?”
“No, no. Dogs that are poorly socialized, or have been abused and are fearful. Dogs with trust issues. Dogs that are downright mean are something else. There are people who work with dogs like that, but you really have to be specially trained to do that sort of work. I did the easy stuff. Some dogs take longer than others to learn to trust.”
“I guess dogs aren’t so different from people. Some folks take longer to trust, too.” He took another sip of beer. “You have such a calming way about you, you’re so easy to be around. I suspect dogs sense that as much as people do, and just naturally trust you.”
“Thanks, Seth.”
“So have you thought about starting a shelter here? We get strays in town sometimes, and there have been cases where people have dumped unwanted animals up in the hills. When they get picked up, they’re taken to the SPCA or to that shelter outside of Clarks Summit. No telling what happens to them from there.”
“I do miss it. If I had a place to house the dogs, if I had a network here . . .” She shrugged. “I admit I looked at the carriage house as a possible space, but it’s not a good idea.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me, if that’s what you want to do.”
“For one thing, it’s too close to the house. Dogs can get a little rowdy if something sets them off at night. I doubt Barney or the neighbors would appreciate a bunch of animals howling in the wee hours.” She took another sip from the bottle, then set it on the step next to her. “Besides, I think it’s too small to take in more than a few animals, and judging from my last appearance before your town council, I’d never get a full-sized operation past zoning.”
“You have a friend on the council, you know that, right?” Obviously Seth meant himself.
“I do, and I appreciate it. But that’s only one vote. And there’s maybe the most important reason: I think Cara wants to open a yoga studio, and it looks like she has her eye on the carriage house.”
“And what Cara wants trumps what you want because . . . ?”
“Because she’s the most likely to stay when work at the theater is finished.”
A long moment passed before Seth asked, “So is there someone waiting for you back in Montana?”
“Only the people who run the shelter, and my book club.”
“I’ll bet there are plenty of people here in Hidden Falls who’d join a book club if you started one.”
“Cara and I talked about that. But I don’t know if I want to get involved with anything and then leave. Dogs or people.”
He seemed to think that over as he started to peel back the label from the bottle.
“When you go back to Montana, will you take Buttons?”
“I couldn’t take her from Barney. She loves that dog, and the dog adores her. Whenever I go, Buttons will stay here.”
“When do you think that will be?”
Des shrugged. “I have no idea now. We were pretty much on track to get the basic renovation completed, but the mess with the ceiling is going to set us back a bit.”
“If I can help in any way, let me know. In the meantime, I’ll get that extra set of prints to you.”
Seth stood and whistled for his dog. Both animals stopped their play, then trotted to him. Buttons sat at Des’s feet, panting.
“Tell Barney I said good night. Thanks for the beer.” He hooked the leash onto the back of his dog’s harness. “I’ll see you, Des.”
“Night, Seth.” Des stood and watched him walk away. “Seth,” she called to him.
At the sound of her voice, he turned back.
“I’m glad we’re friends,” she told him.
“Me, too.”
She leaned on the porch rail, her gaze following him until he and Ripley disappeared around the corner.
A moment later, the door opened behind her.
“Was Seth here all this time?” Cara asked.
“Yeah. Rip looked thirsty, so I gave him some water, and Seth and I just talked for a while.”
Cara bent down and picked up the empty bottle Seth had left on the step. “Clever dog, drinking out of a bottle.”
“Seth was thirsty, too.”
“I could go for a beer myself. Be right back.” Cara turned toward the door. “Want another?”
“There aren’t any more. Sorry. I took the last two. I’ll replace them tomorrow.”
“You mustn’t have looked in the right place. I put a six-pack in there myself last night when Joe was here, and we each had one. If you and Seth had one each, there should be two left.” Cara went into the house but returned in minutes. “You’re right, they’re gone. Maybe Allie or Barney drank them. It’s no big deal.”
Cara sat next to Des on the step. “Seth’s a super-nice guy.”
“He really is. I was just telling him how glad I was that we’re friends.”
“You actually said that to him? ‘I’m glad we’re friends’?”
Des nodded. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”
“Because it’s pretty obvious that he likes you.”
“I like him, too.”
“Are you totally oblivious?”
Des stared blankly at her sister.
“Des, I think he’d like to be more than friends with you.”
“No, he said he was glad we were friends, too.”
It was Cara’s turn to stare.
“Really, we’re just friends and we like it that way.”
“You mean you like it that way.”
Des sighed and leaned over the railing and watched a small bird disappear into one of the boxwoods below the porch. “He’s not my type.”
“What does that mean?”
“He’s this big, tattooed giant who rides a motorcycle and smokes cigars as long as my arm. We are exact opposites. I’ve never even been on a motorcycle and I hate the smell of cigars.”
“So he’s not your type because he represents a certain element of danger?”
Des ignored her. “And that’s just what’s on the surface. He’s lived here all his life, he belongs here and he knows it. He’s had the same friends since kindergarten.”
“And those are negatives because . . . ?”
“He’s used to a different kind of life. He’s been involved in Hidden Falls forever. He’s this big social guy, and I’m a . . .”
“You’re a what?”
“I’m a loner. I didn’t have friends from school because Allie and I always had a tutor. I lived most of my childhood on-stage, pretending to be someone I wasn’t, and when I wasn’t working, I’d lose myself in the pages of a book.” Des took a deep breath. “I don’t think Seth has ever had to wonder about who he was. I think he’s always known.”
“I would think that would be a good thing, Des. A guy who knows who he is, where he belongs, who values his friendships.”
“I’ve never really belonged anywhere. I don’t know what that would even feel like.” Des had no idea where the words and the feelings came from, or how she found the nerve to express them, but she knew as she spoke that every word was true.
“But after your show was over, you went on to college, right? You must have made a place for yourself there.”
“I roomed by myself because I didn’t know how to act around other kids my age. I always felt like a stranger everywhere I went. I moved to Montana because the only friend I ever had—one of my ‘sisters’ on the show—lived there and I figured at least I’d know someone. But she has her own life, her husband and her kids.” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “Seth, he’s Mr. Popularity. People in Hidden Falls like him so much they elected him mayor, what, three times? I watched him at the last town council meeting. The room was packed and people were yelling and he just calmed them down and got everyone back to the agenda. I would have panicked and run out of the room. Seth’d be at home wherever he finds himself, and I don’t know that I’m at home anywhere.”
“You seem comfortable enough here with us.”
“It’s different. You’re family.”
Cara laughed. “We weren’t until very recently.”
“Barney could make anyone feel at home. And you . . . you’re easy to be around. And I’ve always known how Allie is. No surprise there.” She blew out a breath. “And Seth—he’s the nicest guy I ever met, but he’s fully entrenched here. He belongs here, and I won’t be staying.” She shook her head again. “Besides, he’s just not my type.”
“So if a guy who likes you enough to adopt a dog he didn’t think he wanted isn’t your type, who is?”
“Oh, you know, someone who’s . . . well, maybe a little more sophisticated. More, I don’t know, academic, maybe. I’ve always liked that buttoned-down look. Less . . . inked up. Not that that’s a bad thing. It just isn’t my thing. Doesn’t mean he isn’t a nice guy, or that he isn’t right for someone else.”
“I see.” Her hand on the doorknob, Cara paused. “You can’t always judge a person by their appearance, you know that, right?”
“I’m not judging.”
“Really? Because it sounds to me that you are.”
“I’m not. Seth is great, but we’re too different.”
“If you aren’t judging, then you’re making excuses. Either way, you lose out.”
Before Des could protest, Cara had slipped inside and closed the door behind her.