Keep reading for a preview of another warm, emotional tale
of friendship, finding yourself and discovering romance.
by bestselling author
Sheila Roberts.
The latest instalment in her beloved Icicle Falls series.
Available soon from MIRA Books.
CHAPTER ONE
Cass Wilkes had wanted to liven up her empty-nest existence, but having her dining room ceiling fall in was not on her list of ways to do it. She’d just come home at three in the afternoon from the usual Saturday swamping of customers at her bakery, Gingerbread Haus, with sore feet and a desire for a bubble bath and a cup of chocolate-mint tea. Looking at the water and the soppy chunks of Sheetrock on her dining table and floor, and the white glop everywhere, she now had a desire for something with more of a kick.
Currently there wasn’t anything stronger than cooking sherry in the house. That meant there was only one way to deal with this situation. She walked right back out the door and to her car. Destination: Zelda’s, one of Icicle Falls’ favorite gathering spots, owned by her friend Charley Masters. Charley would give her a Chocolate Kiss, a boozy chocolate number that was one of the restaurant’s specialties, and hopefully she’d also dispatch her husband, Dan, owner of Masters Construction, to deal with the ceiling problem.
Back in her car Cass texted her friend. Emergency. Have Chocolate Kiss ready.
You okay? came the concerned reply.
Yeah, but my house isn’t.
Uh-oh, Charley texted back. Will have drink ready.
On my way.
The restaurant was empty, set up for the evening rush, which would start around five with the sundowner crowd, seniors taking advantage of the early dinner bargains. By six thirty there wouldn’t be an empty seat anywhere, and people would be crowding in, waiting for a table. She was glad it was quiet now. If she had a complete nervous breakdown the only witnesses would be Charley and the staff.
True to her word, Charley was at a booth in the back of the restaurant with a Chocolate Kiss martini set at Cass’s place, along with a plate of nachos. “The crisis kit,” she said, stealing a cheese-drenched chip. “Chocolate, booze and carbs.”
Cass slid into the banquette. “Bless you.” She took a sip of her drink and then dove into the nachos. “I so needed this. Well, not my butt.” That seemed to be ever expanding. “My soul, for sure.”
“What’s wrong at your house? Did your rotting deck finally fall in?”
“Worse than that. Half my dining room ceiling is now sitting on the table.” Grandma’s dining table. Her grandmother had given her that when she first bought her house in Icicle Falls. She only used it on holidays but it had huge sentimental value. If not for the protective pad and a tablecloth it would have been completely ruined.
Good friend that she was, Charley looked properly horrified. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes,” Cass said miserably. “I knew I was going to need a new roof soon, but I didn’t think it was this bad. I didn’t go up to the attic to see what that’s like. It must be grim, since my dining room is now a war zone. Please tell me Dan can fix this so I don’t have to pull out my hair.”
“Dan can fix it,” Charley assured her. “But count on him telling you that you need a new roof.”
Cass glanced out the restaurant window at the rain dumping on the window boxes of the various shops and buildings, bouncing off car roofs and slithering along the street in streams. April showers bring May flowers, her mom liked to say. They also brought roof leaks and wrecked mahogany dining room tables. Ugh. How long had that water been collecting in her attic before it crashed through the ceiling? And shouldn’t it have given her a warning by dripping a little?
Except when was the last time she’d been in her dining room to notice any drips? Other than hanging out with her pals for their chick-flick nights, she hadn’t had much of a social life. Her daily schedule consisted mainly of work, eating takeout from Zelda’s or the Safeway deli while watching TV, and sleeping. Repeat. This was alleviated by occasional visits home by the kids, but those visits weren’t nearly frequent enough, and mother-child text sessions never lasted long. Afterward it was just her, rattling around in a house that was as much in need of fixing up as she was. This was her life now that the last little chick had left the nest.
She missed those chicks. Sometimes Cass could hardly believe they were grown. The slide into this new phase had felt both gradual and sudden. When her three kids were small the chaos of life as a single parent had seemed never-ending. But now, suddenly, here they were, launched and mostly out of the house. Dani was happily married and a mom herself, and her bakery in Spokane was doing well. Willie was graduating from college with a degree in environmental science and resource management in June and this would be his last summer home, although she knew she wouldn’t see much of him. Amber, the baby, was a freshman at Western and was only home during the summer. Between working and hanging out with her friends, she was gone more than she was around.
Even Tiny, the family Saint Bernard, was no longer there to fill the empty spaces. Tiny had gone to doggie heaven a year ago and Cass hadn’t been able to bring herself to replace him.
She took a guzzle of her Chocolate Kiss. “My life is driving me to drink.”
“Don’t worry,” Charley said, picking up her cell phone. “Dan will make everything better.”
Cass thought of her current existence and muttered, “He won’t be able to make everything better.”
Charley frowned in concern, but before she could comment, her husband had answered and she was busy dealing with Cass’s crisis. “Thanks, babe,” she said after explaining the problem. “He’s just finishing up the new place on Cedar,” she told Cass after she’d ended the call. “He’ll be right over.”
“Poor guy, having to work on a Saturday.”
Charley showed no sympathy. “It’s good for him. Keeps him out of trouble. Anyway, it’s nice that things are booming here in town. Job security.”
“I hate to bug him when he’s working so hard,” Cass said. “But he was the first one I thought of.”
“That’s how it should be with friends,” Charley said. “Anyway, he doesn’t mind.” She studied Cass. “So, what else is bothering you? I get the impression the ceiling is just the final straw.”
“I don’t know,” Cass said with a shrug. “I guess I’ve got a case of empty-nest syndrome. Coupled with getting-olditis,” she added. “I’m going to be flippin’ forty-six next month.” Eew. She consoled herself with more of her Chocolate Kiss. “And you know what comes after that?”
“Forty-seven.”
“And then fifty-seven and then…” She finished off her drink. “My life is evaporating before my very eyes.”
“You’re not that old,” Charley protested.
“I’m not that young, either. Where am I going? What am I doing with my life?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Cass scowled at her empty glass.
“You’ve raised three great kids single-handed, you’ve got a thriving business. Everyone loves you.”
But no one in particular loved her. Other than her kids, of course, and they had to. It came with the territory.
Oh, well. You couldn’t have everything. “I don’t know what my problem is.”
“I do,” Charley said with an emphatic nod. “You need a man.”
“Been there, done that. Maybe I’ll get a puppy and call it good.” One divorce had been enough. Marriage was risky business.
“Puppies are great,” Charley agreed. “Men are even better. Why don’t you splurge and get both?”
“Oh, sure.”
“Online dating, baby.”
Cass shuddered. “You’ve decided me. I’ll get a dog.”
They’d just finished the nachos when Dan Masters joined them. At six foot two and with shoulders like a bull, he was a commanding presence, the kind of man you knew could handle any crisis. Wouldn’t it be nice to have something like that of her very own?
Yeah, but not likely. The population of Icicle Falls wasn’t exactly brimming with men her age. The closest was Dylan Wright, who’d been single for years. Somebody would come along and whip him into shape someday, but considering the lack of chemistry between them whenever he came into the bakery, it wouldn’t be her.
“So your roof’s leaking, huh?” Dan said, seating himself next to his wife.
He kissed Charley, and Cass felt a tiny stab of envy. She looked wistfully at her empty glass. “It’s gone from leak to ‘get the ark.’ I have a major flood happening at my place.”
Dan shook his head. “I warned you that roof was starting to look grim. Up here in the mountains you really need a metal roof.”
“I think my place was built before there was such a thing,” she said. “Anyway, I’d have to sell a kid to be able to afford a metal roof.” Even with Mason pitching in his share for the kids’ college she still had a lot of money going out.
“Well, no worries. We’re supposed to have sun tomorrow. I can come over and patch the leak and fix your ceiling.”
Thank God.
“Meanwhile, put out a bucket.”
“Or a horse trough. I really appreciate it, Dan. I owe you gingerbread boys for life.”
“You already give him plenty of gingerbread cookies,” Charley said.
“Hey, don’t discourage the woman,” Dan told her. Then to Cass, “Patching the roof is only a temporary fix. You’re bound to have more problems in the future, so you’d better start looking for a roofer.”
“And a pot of gold,” Cass said. The restaurant window framed a gray, rainy sky. “Where’s the darned rainbow when you need it, anyway?”
* * *
Stefanie Stahl came home with her son late Saturday afternoon from a visit with her sister in Seattle to find that her husband had been busy in her absence. She was greeted by the whine of a table saw, and where there’d once been a wall between her living and dining room, now there were only studs covered with an opaque plastic sheet. A fine film of dust had crept out and was covering the hardwood floor in the living room as well as her furniture. She could see a pile of Sheetrock behind the plastic curtain, and beyond that hung one of those lamps carpenters often used when working at night. In its murky shadow stood a man happily creating chaos.
The day before the bridal shower she was throwing for her best friend.
That did it. She was going to hit Brad over the head with his hammer and bury him in the backyard under the pile of scrounged lumber that had been there since last August.
“Daddy!” their six-year-old son, Petey, called, and began pawing at the heavy plastic in an effort to get where the action was.
“You stay right here,” Stef commanded. “It’s dangerous in there.” And it was going to be really dangerous for a certain husband when she got to him.
The plastic had been taped in place, but she made her way through and marched over to where Brad stood, happily whipping up sawdust, and tapped him on the shoulder. He just about jumped out of his skin.
“Hey, don’t sneak up on a guy like that!” he said. “I could’ve sawed my hand off.”
“You’re lucky I don’t saw your head off. What are you doing?”
He flipped up his safety goggles. “What do you mean, what am I doing? You said you wanted an open-concept floor plan and an eating bar off the kitchen. That’s what I’m doing.”
“I said that months ago.” And she certainly hadn’t meant for him to do it.
“So you should be glad I’ve finally got the time. I’m all caught up at the office and decided I’d start on it. This, by the way, is your eating bar,” he informed her, pointing to a pile of boards.
Brad had taken over a lucrative branch of a national insurance company, which was what had brought them to Icicle Falls. He was still a one-man operation with no office help other than the occasional assistance Stef gave him. Surely he had something more to do at work, someone who needed life insurance. Right now he needed plenty of it. She knew she should’ve left Petey at home with him. Then he would’ve been too busy with their son to trash the house.
She threw up her hands in disgust. “Now? You had to start on it now?”
“Sure. Why not?” Down went the safety goggles and he reached over to turn on the saw again.
She grabbed his hand to stop him. “Because Griffin’s bridal shower is tomorrow. That’s why not. How am I supposed to have a bridal shower here with this mess?”
Brad seemed shocked by that. Which showed how much he listened. “Aw, shit. That’s tomorrow?”
“I told you that!” Did he have sawdust in his ears? “And now my guests get to look at this…disaster.”
She was about to march off when he took her arm. “Sweet Stuff, I’m sorry. I just wanted to surprise you.”
“You surprised me, all right,” she said with a scowl.
Meanwhile Petey was bouncing up and down on the other side of the curtain, shouting, “Daddy, Daddy!”
“Just a minute, big guy.” He pushed the goggles back up on his head and gave her a pleading smile. “Come on, Stef, don’t be mad. I only wanted to make you happy.”
Yes, he’d had the best of intentions. He always had the best of intentions. Sadly, he was better at good intentions than he was at finishing projects, as the half-done patio with its pile of paving stones out back could attest. Not to mention the master bathroom with the missing tub. That had been last month’s project. When it came to home improvement projects, the man was totally ADD.
“You haven’t even finished the bathroom,” she reminded him.
“I was going to, but then I remembered you wanted that wall knocked out and I thought you’d like it done for your party. Which I forgot was tomorrow,” he hastily added. “I thought I had time.”
He always thought he had time. Bradley Stahl operated on his own unique timetable.
If he operated at all. When they’d first bought the house, they’d talked about ways they could improve it. But they hadn’t shared the same vision. Stef had assumed they’d go at it methodically, one project at a time, hiring competent contractors. Brad had envisioned himself as perfectly competent, insisting on doing the work and saving them money. So far this was not working out.
“Da-ad!”
“Coming, big guy,” Brad called, and beat a hasty retreat before she could say anything more.
With a growl Stef kicked the pile of sawdust. She wished it was Brad’s behind. What was she going to do now? She had a dozen women coming the next afternoon. Even if Brad skipped church, he couldn’t get rid of this mess before the bridal shower.
Maybe she could get someone else to host, like Cass. Cass Wilkes had taken her and Griffin under her wing when they’d arrived in Icicle Falls a year ago, both new to town, both wondering how to go about fitting in. Cass had connected Griffin with a book club, and when she found out that Stef was a movie buff, she’d included Stef in her weekly chick-flick-night gatherings with her friends. Not only had Cass become a good friend and neighbor, she also was single. No husband underfoot messing things up. She probably wouldn’t mind if they switched the party to her house. Stef could bring the eats, and Cass could provide the sawdust-free environment. She put in an SOS. call.
“Oh, Stef, I’d do it in a heartbeat but—”
Uh-oh. If there was a but, that meant trouble.
“I have Sheetrock all over my dining room.”
“On purpose? You didn’t tell me you were doing a home improvement project.”
“I am now. My roof sprang a leak and my ceiling caved in. I discovered it when I got home from work.”
Okay, that was even worse than a Brad breakout. “Oh, no. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, well,” Cass said philosophically. “It is what it is.”
Cass had a dozen years on Stef. Did a woman master that sort of give-me-the-grace-to-accept-the-things-I can’t-change attitude as she got older? Stef needed it now.
“Why do you want to relocate the bridal shower?” Cass asked.
“Bradley.”
Cass knew what that meant. “Don’t tell me. He’s started a new project.”
“He’s started a new mess. He forgot that the shower’s tomorrow and decided this would be a good weekend to pull down the wall between the dining and living rooms. He’s got his saw set up and hung a big plastic sheet between the two rooms. A lovely setting for a bridal shower, don’t you think?”
Cass chuckled. “It’ll be interesting. But don’t worry. Everyone on the guest list is either married or has been. We know what men are like.”
“Brad is in a class by himself. He’ll tear up the floor, too, and then the one in here because it’ll all have to match, then that mess will sit for about a million years while he figures out his next step.” He was still figuring out the next step for installing a new tub. Good thing their house had two bathrooms.
“At least he’s making an effort,” Cass said, obviously trying to help her look on the bright side.
True. But every time Brad made an effort, it wound up an unfinished disaster. She sighed. “This is going to be so…embarrassing. Some of these women haven’t even seen my house.”
“Trust me, they won’t care. It’s about being together, and no one’s going to judge you. Anyway, like I said, they’ve all seen men in action. Your plastic curtain will be a conversation piece.”
“Yeah, but it’s supposed to be about the bride. If this doesn’t give Griffin cold feet…” Except lately it seemed she was already getting them.
“I think she’s already got them,” Cass said, voicing Stef’s thought.
In the last few weeks, Griffin had been a little less enamored of her husband-to-be, a little crankier with him. Okay, he didn’t help out around the house much, but he could be trained. And yeah, he wasn’t a big reader like Stef, but when he was busy gaming she had plenty of free time to read or hang out with friends. He was good-looking and fun-loving, and his sense of humor balanced Griffin’s more serious nature.
They both had interesting jobs. Griffin was a food photographer. (She didn’t make much, but it was a heck of a lot more fun than Stef’s boring part-time job as a teller at the bank.) Steve was a video game tester. (Brad had been extremely jealous when he learned what Steve did for a living…until he learned what Steve made.) Granted, they weren’t rich yet, but the earning potential was there. They had no kids, no responsibilities, and Griffin’s house wasn’t in a state of perpetual disaster. Life on her side of the fence looked pretty good.
“Do you think she’s being too picky?” Stef asked.
“I don’t know. Having been down the divorce road, I’m wondering if there is such a thing as too picky. Better to be sure than be sorry.”
“But her wedding’s the first of June.”
“That’s still several weeks away,” Cass pointed out.
“Maybe I should’ve had the shower closer to the wedding date,” Stef mused. “What if she backs out?”
It would be so awkward for her friend if she had to return all the presents. Still, Stef had picked the early date because she knew Griffin’s old friends in Oregon were planning a shower for her next month. Starting the celebrations early had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now she wondered if she should’ve delayed the party.
“Things have a way of working out,” Cass said. “Meanwhile, we’ll party tomorrow and commiserate with you on the work in progress.”
Stef frowned at the ugly plastic sheet and the mess beyond. This was so…subpar. “Maybe I could switch the shower to Zelda’s.”
“You can try. But I think you’ll find the party room already booked. I’m pretty sure Charley said something about a fiftieth wedding anniversary dinner for some people from Wenatchee.”
Stef cast wildly about in her mind. Bailey Black’s tearoom? Except that was normally closed on Sundays, and she didn’t feel comfortable asking Bailey to go to the inconvenience of opening up.
Here came Brad again, Petey skipping along behind him, hauling the old bedroom curtains she’d planned to donate to Kindness Cupboard. Oh, no. Now what?
“I’d better go,” she said to Cass. “I don’t know what Brad’s up to, but it doesn’t look good.”
Cass laughed, then, after assuring her once more that all would be well, let her end the call.
“What’s with the drapes?” she asked Brad.
“Camouflage,” he replied. “You were getting rid of them anyway, right?”
“Right,” she said cautiously.
“So, it won’t matter if they get wrecked. I’m going to nail them up in front of the plastic. Then no one will see. Brilliant, huh?”
He was obviously fishing for a compliment, but she was too irritated to admire his manly creativity. Instead she told Petey, “It’s bath time.”
“I want to help Daddy,” Petey whined.
“We’ll be done in five minutes, then I’ll give him his bath,” Brad said. “You go relax.”
“Okay, fine.” She’d recorded a mystery on the PBS channel. She’d watch that and imagine her husband as the murder victim.
The corpse had just been discovered when her two boys stopped by the family room on their way to the bathroom (the one that still had a tub). “Take a look,” Brad told her. “It’s not half-bad.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said confidently. But she noticed he took their son and hurried upstairs before she could render a verdict.
The living room now had tan drapes hanging closed on one side. Okay, maybe someone who used her imagination could pretend the drapes were covering a window.
Yes, everyone had a window in the middle of her house between one room and another.
But it beat the plastic curtain. Barely.
“So, not too bad, huh?” Brad prompted after they’d tucked their son in and kissed him good-night.
“It’ll have to do,” she said grumpily.
He put an arm around her. “Come on, Stef, have a heart. Are you going to punish me all night?”
“I might.”
“You wanna just kill me and be done with it?”
With his round face, reddish hair and snub nose, Brad looked like a perpetual teenager. And when he wore that penitent-little-boy expression it was hard to stay mad at him.
But she was still willing to try. “Yeah. And I know where to hide the body.”
He frowned. “You’d miss me. Admit it.”
She sighed heavily. “Promise me this project will get done before I’m eighty.”
He crossed his heart. “Promise.”
“Like next weekend?”
“Petey starts T-ball next Saturday. Remember?”
And Brad was the team’s coach. “This is never going to get done,” Stef groaned.
“Don’t worry, Sweet Stuff. It will,” he said, and pulled her close. “Now, how about we kiss and…” He waggled his eyebrows.
“No makeup sex for you,” she said. “Not until I solve my mystery.”
He grinned. “I can wait.”
And that was the problem. He was never in a hurry to finish anything. Maybe she should make him wait for sex until he got the great room finished. Of course, if she did that, she wouldn’t have another orgasm until she was seventy.
Later that night they had some great makeup sex. If only her husband was as good with his other tools. Sigh.
Discover the charming world of Icicle Falls.
by Sheila Roberts.
Available February 28, 2017,
from MIRA Books.
Copyright © 2017 by Sheila Rabe