After a rainy Memorial Day that ranged from drizzle to downpour and back again, Nick was glad to see Tuesday dawn with clear skies. Still, the ground was drenched, and his crew collected enough mud on their boots to make walking the worksite miserable and sometimes impossible. At noon Nick released his men for the remainder of the day.
His intent was to head home, but somehow his truck turned in the opposite direction. A few miles down the road, a For Sale sign came into view on the right side of the road, and he realized that was what he was looking for: the Young property. He slowed and turned into the driveway.
The house was a split-entry-style home. Probably three bedrooms, by the look of it, and about eighteen hundred to two thousand square feet. The two-car garage was detached, connected by a short, covered walkway. The back of the house, both upper and lower levels, had good views of the creek and the tall trees growing on both banks. From what he could tell, the property was around two acres. A fenced pasture took up about three-quarters of the land. There was an unkempt look about the place, as Alycia had intimated on Saturday, but nothing that appeared too serious. It wouldn’t take much to get it back into shape. A bit of paint for the house. Some landscaping and reseeding of the lawn. A little fence work. Not much else.
Of course, there wasn’t any way of knowing the shape of things inside without a key to the lock.
He got out of his truck and began to walk around, looking through the windows of the lower level, opening the unlocked side door to the garage, testing the sturdiness of the pasture fencing.
“Look, Boomer. A kennel.”
The dog wagged his tail, as if pleased with the discovery.
Finally, Nick walked out to the For Sale sign near the road and took a flyer from a box on the post. It gave some details, including the asking price. He was surprised how low it was. Were there problems he couldn’t see, or did the remaining family members simply want to unload it in a hurry?
He looked at the house again. At this price he could manage twenty percent down, and unless his math skills had completely abandoned him, the house payments wouldn’t be much more than the rent he paid now. Perhaps an additional fifty dollars a month, he guessed.
Do it. Don’t think about it too much. Just do it.
He glanced down at the flyer again, at the same time pulling his phone from his pocket. He punched in the number and then listened. It rang twice before being answered.
“Roberta Carie. How may I help you?”
“My name’s Nick Chastain. I . . . I’m out at the Young place on Homestead Road. Is it possible you could show me the inside of the house this afternoon?”
“Of course. I’d be delighted to. In fact, I’m only about ten minutes away now. Do you mind waiting for me?”
“Not at all.”
“All right. See you in a few.” The call ended abruptly.
Nick looked down at Boomer. “What do you think, boy? Am I nuts to even consider it?”
The border collie seemed to smile at him.
“Some help you are.”
The dog’s tail began to wag again.
True to her word, Roberta Carie arrived in ten minutes. By that time, Nick had walked back to the house. He stood on the front stoop as the white Lexus rolled to a stop beside his truck.
The real estate agent was a tall woman in her mid-forties. She wore a pastel pantsuit that looked out of place in this country setting and an excess of silver jewelry on wrists, rings, ears, and throat. “Mr. Chastain.” She held out her hand as she approached, her many bracelets jangling. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Roberta.”
“Nice to meet you. Call me Nick.”
Her smile was dazzling. “Let’s go inside, shall we?”
Nick told Boomer to sit and stay.
Roberta unlocked the door, then motioned Nick through ahead of her. “The house only went on the market a few days ago. You are the first person I’ve shown it to. But with this location and price, I don’t expect it to be available for long.”
They climbed the stairs to the upper level.
Roberta rattled off statistics regarding the measurements of the rooms. Nick listened and nodded. Downstairs she did the same, as well as telling him about recent improvements— new carpet, new furnace and water heater, and a five-year-old roof.
Nick’s place in Oregon had been a bachelor pad with style. The price of it had been staggering. In contrast, this house had an old-fashioned, homey feel to it. It was the kind of place where families lived. Despite it being summer, he could imagine a Christmas tree in front of the large living room window, like the Chastain family had had when he and his brothers were kids.
But it was something even more than a sense of home and family about the place that appealed to him. He felt a nudge in his heart. No, more like a firm shove. For no reason he understood right then, it felt like God was speaking to his spirit.
“Let’s write up an offer,” he said as he faced Roberta.
There was a flicker of surprise before she schooled her face into a smile once again. “Wonderful. Wonderful.” She walked to the kitchen counter, set down her oversized purse, then withdrew papers, clipboard, and a pen from inside of it.
Nick didn’t question his decision. Not even for an instant. For the first time in a long while, he was dead certain that he was doing the right thing.
“Sam, dear, you haven’t let the grass grow under your feet.”
Ruth rolled her scooter to the center of the gift shop, her gaze scanning the mostly bare shelves that lined two walls. The abundance of scented candles had been narrowed down to one small area in a center-room display, and the arrangement of the shop was dramatically changed from the last time Ruth had been in it.
Excitement sparkled in Samantha’s eyes as she detailed where the different merchandise would go as it arrived. “And this,” she finished with a hand flourish, “is going to be the book corner. Your customers are going to love it, Gran. We’ll highlight books about Idaho and books written by Idaho authors, but we’ll have other choices too.”
Ruth glanced toward the counter where Camila stood, observing them.
Her friend nodded. “She’s got good business sense, that one.”
“So I see.”
Samantha continued, “Brooklyn’s working on some sort of promotion for the bed-and-breakfast, along with specials for the summer concerts at Dubois Vineyards. I thought we would feature her items near the checkout counter.”
“I cannot believe what you’ve accomplished in such a short time, Sam. It’s amazing.”
“Thanks.” Her granddaughter beamed. “I hoped you would approve. I know you said you trusted me, but still . . .” She allowed her words to drift into silence, almost as if she held her breath.
Ruth reached out and took hold of Samantha’s hand. “I more than approve, dear. I think it’s wonderful.” She wondered if her granddaughter was aware how much her demeanor had brightened over her weeks in Thunder Creek. Especially the last one or two. There was an aura of happiness that had been missing before. A look of the girl she’d once been, the one with a zest for life.
More customers arrived, and while Gina Evans, the part-time server, took their orders, Camila left the gift shop so she could prepare the beverages.
“I know it looks a little empty now,” Samantha said, “but it’s going to fill up fast. Marked-down items”—she pointed— “are over there. Brooklyn said she could put some sale items in her gift shop too.”
“I think I should hire you to be my manager.”
“I might take the job if you offered it.”
Ruth felt her eyes widen. Samantha’s did the same.
“Well,” Ruth said after what seemed a lengthy silence, “that’s something to think about. Isn’t it?”
Samantha did think about it. Time and again as she sat in Gran’s office, staring at the computer screen without seeing anything except the shadow of her reflection, she heard her grandmother suggest making her the manager of Sips and Scentimentals. Crazy, right? A long visit, sure. But beyond that? She rubbed her eyelids with the pads of her fingers.
“Hey.” A rap sounded. “Can I intrude?”
She looked up to see Nick standing in the office doorway.
He jerked his head toward the coffee shop. “I can wait out there until you’re free.”
“I’m free.” As she stood, her gaze shot to the clock on the wall. “You aren’t working today?”
“The ground was so muddy, we quit early. It’ll be dry by tomorrow.”
“Mmm. It looks like it’s beautiful out now.”
“It is.” Nick shoved his fingertips into the back pockets of his jeans, looking as if he had something more to say but didn’t know how to begin. The look made nerves inexplicably whirl in Samantha’s stomach.
“Care to have coffee with me?” he asked after a short silence.
“Sure.”
He stepped back, leaving room for her to pass through the doorway. She did so, then led the way to the counter.
Camila smiled as she observed their approach. “Did you work up a thirst?”
Nick answered before Samantha could. “She needed a break.” He looked at her. “What would you like?”
“Just a regular coffee.”
“Two please,” Nick told Camila.
It didn’t take the older woman long to fill their order.
“Shall we sit outside?” Nick took the coffees, one in each hand.
Samantha smiled. She hadn’t stepped outside once today, and nothing sounded better to her than a breath of fresh air.
The outdoor seating at Sips and Scentimentals—three sets of black wrought-iron tables with three matching chairs each—faced the town park and was shielded from street view by thick climbing vines on latticework. At this hour of the day, she and Nick were the only customers sitting there.
“The gift shop looks kind of bare.” Nick set both coffees on a table. “What’s up?”
It pleased her that he’d noticed. “We’re changing things up a bit. New stock will start arriving this week.”
“Can’t wait to see what you’ve got in mind.” He took a sip of his coffee, then set the cup on the table again, his hand still around the rim. “I’m changing things up a bit myself.”
She raised her eyebrows and waited for him to go on.
“You know the Young place you and Alycia mentioned on Saturday?”
She nodded.
“Well, I made an offer to buy it, and the seller accepted.”
For a moment surprise struck her dumb. But at last she said, “You’re going to stay in Thunder Creek? I mean, I know you like your job, but . . .” She let the words drift off.
“I’m planning to stay for the long term.” His grin widened. “God willing and the creeks don’t rise.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t think you would. I didn’t picture you here for good.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because you . . . you always lived your life so . . . large.” She gave a slight shrug. “Isn’t Thunder Creek going to feel small to you after a while?”
He considered her question before answering, “No. I don’t think it will. It suits me. It suits who I am now.”
“Who I am now.” His words reverberated inside of her. Nick was different. She’d recognized many of the changes before, but she hadn’t expected them to last any more than she’d expected him to stay in Thunder Creek.
“It’s kind of hard to explain, even to myself. But when I looked at the house and land, I sensed that it was an answer to something I’ve been praying about for a while.” He gave a slight shrug. “I’ve asked God to somehow use what happened to me, my injuries and my recovery and everything about my life, for a good purpose. And today it felt like God was setting my feet on a path that would make it happen.”
She wished she would hear God speaking in her own heart, to show her clearly what path she should follow.
“Would you like to see the house?” Nick asked, drawing her from her thoughts. “Maybe you can give me some decorating tips. You know how lousy I am at that.”
She laughed softly. “Yes, I do know.”
“How about Saturday morning we take a bike ride out there and I could show you around?”
“I don’t have a bike.”
“Not a problem. I can find you something to ride. Maybe Brooklyn or Alycia has one you could borrow. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
There was an eagerness in his voice that made it impossible for her to refuse his request. She smiled. “All right. I’ll go.”
“Great. Let’s plan for me to be here about ten o’clock. I’ll pack us a lunch, and we can eat it by the creek. Somebody built a nice little picnic area there. Needs some work, but it’ll do for us this time.”