Joe Brody wasn't expecting much when he was released from
prison after ten years for a cruel crime he did not commit.
Yet, he wasn't prepared for the chilly reception he would
get and how difficult it would be to get a job. The final
despair hit him when he went to see his ailing dad in the
local nursing home and found out he didn't even have a
place to live. All that was left was a few boxes stored at
the home of a friend of his dad's.
When he gets to Willow Wood, he is heartened to find an
ally in Wilson who angles to get him a job with the young
widow, Ashley Cade. She had recently bought Wilson
Woodrow's house for a low price on the condition that
Wilson can continue to live there. With her need to get
her planned "Bed and Breakfast" operational and tons of
repairs to be done, Ashley reluctantly agrees to hire Joe
without checking his references.
After the recent death of her military husband, Ashley was
determined to do the right thing for her young son, Max, a
toddler just learning to talk. She hoped that setting up a
business in a small town would provide them with a
welcoming and affordable environment, but soon finds out
that this place is not "Mayberry". Valiantly ignoring the
looks and stares, she struggles with all that she has to
learn to make her dream a reality, including learning to
recognize flowers and getting her house and garden in shape
for her opening. As Joe skillfully helps her with tasks
large and small, he fantasizes about her, but knows the
dream would turn into a nightmare as soon as Ashley finds
out the reason for his prison term. Even Wilson warned him
away from getting involved with the busty beauty, but he
can't help "falling" for her!
Kay Stockham has crafted a gripping tale of two strong
willed characters with terrific dialogue as they struggle
to re-build their lives and come to terms with their
emotions and determination to do the right thing. The
plotline is realistic and will hold you in wonderful
suspense as the actions and reactions of the town's people
impact on the lives of Joe and Ashley as they work to
rebuild from a heart breaking past.
Joe Brody: Out of prison but still serving time — all
because no one in his hometown believes he's innocent.
He'd leave the place in his dust, but his father — the
only family he has left — needs him.
Ashley Cade: Widowed with a toddler to take care of. She's
moved here to make a fresh start — but being accepted into
the inner circles of a close-knit town isn't easy.
Especially after she hires the town pariah as a handyman.
Joe and Ashley. The attraction between them is powerful.
But is it enough to overcome the whispers that Ashley has
begun to hear?
Excerpt
"I AIN'T HIRIN' no baby killer to work in my store."
Joe Brody ground his teeth together at Mr. Thompson's
words and reminded himself he needed a job more than he
needed his pride. "Your ad says you need —"
"I don't need somebody like you." Short and squatty, the
middle-aged man rocked up on the balls of his feet as
though trying to impress. Or intimidate. Either way it
didn't work because the hardware store owner refused to
meet his gaze.
Since he'd stepped off the bus this morning everyone in
town, the women especially, had avoided looking Joe in the
eyes. Glancing at him frightfully as though one glance
would taint them for life.
"Look, Mr. Thompson, I served time I didn't —"
"I said no. Now git before somebody sees you." The heavy
man's chins bounced as he did that rocking thing again and
jerked a thumb toward the door. "Business is bad enough
without you scarin' off customers."
The bell attached to the door jangled loudly and footsteps
clicked against the cheap tile floor. Joe glared at
Thompson even though he'd focused his attention on the
newcomer.
"Ah, hell, what do you want?"
Surprised someone besides himself warranted such a
response, Joe glanced at Thompson's customer then did a
quick double take at the woman presently returning the
man's baleful glower with one of her own.
She slammed a box on the counter. "This didn't work."
Her voice was rich and husky and laced with sheer fury.
Thompson remained by the cash register, and as the two
faced off, Joe used the moment of invisibility to his
advantage.
Thin but stacked, the woman was a sight to behold after
his ten years in prison. He guessed her to be in her mid
to late twenties, a few years younger than his twenty-
nine.
Her jet-black hair was pulled away from her angular face
and the dark hue tinging her cheeks hinted at the temper
she barely held in check. If Thompson held true to form
after all these years, he typically responded more
favorably to women willing to flirt with him. Obviously
she didn't know that.
"No returns."
She flattened her palms along the top of the counter and
leaned forward, her height giving her a distinct advantage
over Thompson. "You deliberately sold me the wrong
product."
Thompson didn't acknowledge her accusation. "No returns if
the box's been opened."
Long, straight tendrils teased the length of her jaw and
she brushed them away in irritation. That's when Joe noted
the presence of a plain silver wedding band.
"Of course I opened it — you said it would work."
"Did I? Can't remember."
Her gaze narrowed, and Joe had a hard time holding back a
chuckle. Not many people had ever stood up to Thompson's
dictatorial ways, but this woman was the exception.
"Look, I know you're still mad at me for buying the house —
"
"Damned straight."
"But you can't change the fact it wasn't for sale to you."
"Shouldn't have been for sale to outsiders, either. You
city folk think you can move in here and buy up whatever
you want. You tricked that old fool, but you ain't gonna
trick me!"
"You have no idea what I want, and I didn't trick anyone.
Now, you guaranteed this part would fit that old sink —"
Thompson waved her toward the door. "Go bother somebody
else."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? But I'm not budging until
you give me my fifty dollars back."
Joe eyed the box. Fifty dollars? He gave a small cough.
Thompson glared. "Why ain't you left yet?"
"Mighty pricey part," he drawled, shooting Thompson a look
that stated clearly he was on to his game. "Can't help but
wonder how business would suffer if folks thought your
prices had a tendency to fluctuate depending on who was
doing the buying."
The woman frowned as she caught on to what he implied.
Then she flashed Thompson a quelling smile. "Oh, really?
Fluctuate, huh? Maybe I need to call the local paper
instead? Or the Better Business Bureau?" Her tone left no
doubt that she would do just that and relish every minute.
The little man sputtered a moment. He fumed at Joe, his
bushy brows nearly obscuring his eyes they pulled so
low. "You stay out of this," Thompson grumbled.
The woman leaned over the counter and grabbed the phone
receiver off its base.
"Hey, now —"
Eyes wide, her expression changed to one of
innocence. "Would you like to call the BBB yourself?" She
glanced around the otherwise empty hardware store before
she gave Thompson a shrug.
"Looks pretty dead in here, but I imagine it'll only get
worse once word gets out."
The threat of losing money darkened the man's complexion
to a dull maroon. Mouth pursed, Thompson made a noise deep
in his throat and stomped his way around the counter.
"Man can't make a decent living. Folks always whining and
complaining and not willing to abide by the law. Sign says
no returns and it means no returns." He pointed a finger
at her. "Don't you be tellin'folks I done this now, you
hear me? I'll have all sorts of kooks in here wantin'
money."
She made a face at the word kooks but nodded as Thompson
stalked by. "I won't say a word...so long as you don't try
this again. I want the right part at the right price."
The man complained some more as he waddled a wide path
around Joe and headed toward the plumbing supplies.
Joe turned back to the woman, figuring it was about time
for her to recognize him and go running like all the
others. She dropped the handset back on the base, her gaze
sparkling with amusement and lingering irritation, the
almond-shaped eyes completely without fear or condemnation.
"Thanks for the backup."
Hesitant, still waiting for her to call him names, Joe
tried for a smile. "No problem."
The woman took a step in Thompson's direction but
hesitated, one hand on the counter. "So... exactly how
much does 'fluctuate'mean?" Almost as soon as the words
were out of her mouth, she stuck her hand up in the
air. "No, never mind. Forget I asked. I don't think I want
to know how badly he took advantage, but I'll watch him in
future. If I come back at all."
Joe glanced over his shoulder at Thompson and saw the guy
still muttering to himself as he sorted through plumbing
fixtures. "Demand store credit if he tries to charge you
more than thirty bucks."
Her full lips parted in shock at the price difference, and
after a deep inhalation that caused his attention to stray
south, the fire reappeared in her eyes.
"O-kay," she said slowly. "Well, I see how he works." She
nodded again. "Live and learn, right?"
That motto he knew well. "Right," he agreed, watching as
she squared her shoulders and headed toward Thompson. The
sway of her jean-clad hips forced him to remember the
silver band on her finger.
Exhaling a breath he didn't know he held, Joe shook his
head and grabbed his duffel from the floor. Time was
wasting away.
Outside, the muggy morning air latched on to his skin
despite the shade covering the storefront. August was a
hot, hot month in southern Ohio. The humidity nearly
unbearable as it was trapped between the valleys and
hills. Days like this were best spent on the water,
boating, swimming. Picnicking somewhere private with a
beautiful girl in a bikini top and Daisy Duke shorts.
All in good time. After all, he'd served his and at least
he wasn't on a job site somewhere with an armed guard
ready to fire should anyone try to make a run for it.
Still, as he walked down the sidewalk and people scattered
into shops or crossed the street to avoid passing him, he
wondered how well some of the other guys would do when
they made it home. Not many people liked the state
releasing inmates for time served due to statute
reorganizations. Especially not those convicted of killing
a child.
Joe glanced at the clock in the town square and grimaced.
Eleven-ten. Thompson's Hardware had been the fourth job
listed in the Help Wanted section of the paper. Four of
four, and after pounding the pavement walking the
distances between locations, he'd been turned down by each
and every one of them.
On the corner of Main and Elm, he hesitated outside Pat's
Diner. Back in high school it was the popular place to
hang out, and pretty much the only place to eat downtown.
Through the glass door he spotted an empty bar stool well
away from the patrons who occupied the booths, and he
grabbed the handle before he could change his mind. If he
kept his head down maybe no one would notice him.
"Good morning, what can I get —" The wait-ress's mouth
dropped open. "Oh. My. God."
So much for no one noticing him. The woman's cheeks filled
with color and her hand moved protectively over her
heavily rounded stomach. She looked familiar, but he
couldn't put her face with a name.
"C-c-coffee?"
His neck prickled from the multitude of stares brought on
by her behavior, but he ignored them as best he could and
nodded. The pot shook wildly as coffee splashed into his
cup.
"C-cream?"
She still hadn't let go of her belly.
"Black's fine, thank you."
His thanks seemed to throw her. She bit her lip and then
said, "You, um, want something to eat?"
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