house.
He peeked inside the window. The entire living room was completely stripped of drywall, down to its studs. An angry swarm of bees filled a section of the exposed wall.
Matt walked back to the car and started up the engine. “Umm, Kate?”
“My house is completely filled with bees, isn’t it?”
Matt nodded. “Maybe not compl vlign=”juetely filled. Some of the space is taken up with honey. I’m sure it will all be gone by the time we get back. Do you know what all this is costing? Are you sure you don’t…”
“I know exactly what I’m doing. Just drive.”
As Matt started down the road, Kate ran a mental tabulation of the damage and its cost. Two thousand to fix the leaky plumbing. Two thousand to fix the bathroom tile. Three thousand for the mold cleanup and another five thousand to replace the drywall and damaged floor. She wasn’t sure how much bee removal cost. And she owed Matt at least $9,000 on the mortgage. If she didn’t get the house fixed by Christmas, her parents were turning it over to Matt, and if she didn’t get Matt paid by Thanksgiving, he was going to foreclose.
Matt sensed her thoughts and patted her leg with one hand. “Remember. Just one foot after the other.”
Good advice, she thought. Panic was counterproductive.
“Run me through what we need to get done once we’re in Royal Oak,” Kate said. “I’ve already double-checked the boxes of merchandise and found one of those old-fashioned thingies to run credit card slips through. You don’t want to lose the credit sales. And I really think we should have brought the hoodies along with the tees. It’s autumn, after all.”
Matt said nothing, but handed her a travel mug filled with coffee.
What’s next?” Kate asked.
“You tell me,” Matt said. “You’re my snoop. Anything new on that front?”
“Not a thing. Taproom work is harder than I thought. Servers are too busy to be good snoops. I did notice something about your menu, though. Who put it together?”
Matt lifted his mug from its holder. “I worked with a friend who used to be a regional manager for an upper-end chain.”
“A woman?”
He took a swallow of coffee. “Yes, why?”
“Did you date her and dump her?”
Matt’s eyebrows went up a fraction of an inch. “No.”
“You must have ticked her off, at least. You have no fresh vegetables anywhere on your menu, aside from your iceberg wedge smothered in blue cheese dressing. Oh, and the mango poppy seed coleslaw, but don’t get me started on that.”
“No one else has complained.”
“The customers who care the most are women-not your standard breed of beer lovers. And those women would eat fish bait if it gave them a chance at contact with you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your lunchtime fan club. They know your schedule better than you d {er =”juso. Haven’t you noticed the daily lineup?”
“I see them. They’re nice people, but I’m not interested. And it’s no big deal. Don’t you see the way men look at you?”
Kate laughed. “No. I’m pretty pragmatic about my looks.”
“And they are?”
“I don’t know… Kind of cute, I guess.”
Matt glanced over at her.
“You’re beautiful. And if you’ve missed men checking you out, I’ll start letting you know when it happens. Like now. The more we’re together, the harder it is for me to keep my hands off you.”
Desire rushed through Kate’s belly and she admitted to herself that she didn’t want Matt to keep his hands off her. She took a beat to steady her voice. “Getting back to the vegetables. Do you have something against them?”
“No, in fact I like vegetables. Especially French fries.”
She let that sit for a couple of miles and moved on to another topic. “You can never go home again… Any idea who said that?” Kate asked.
“Nope.”
“Well, I’m thinking it’s true. You can’t.”
“Maybe for that unnamed person,” Matt said. “But I do it every day. In fact, except for a short break long ago, I haven’t left.”
“Exactly. But I did, and now I’m returning. Today.”
“And?”
“The magazine I used to work for will be there,” she said. “The places I used to go will be there, and life will have rolled on without me. I’m going to be like a ghost.”
“You look real to me.”
Kate smiled. “But not to them.”
Matt shook his head. “Kate, you’ve been in Keene’s Harbor, not Brigadoon or whatever. You’ve made friends, found a job, even brewed up a little trouble, so it seems to me, you’re doing great.”
“The guy who took my job, he’s got my office. And then there’s Shayla the Homewrecker.”
Kate gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “The woman my ex ran off with. She has my old bed, my ex, and even my dog. They all have lives, and I’ve been in a holding pattern. I don’t have a clue what to do next.”
He cut his eyes to her. “I’d suggest switching to decaf.”
Kate realized she’d been jiggling her left foot at close to the speed of light.
“Kate, seriously, it’s all going to be fine.”
“But how can you say that? How do you know?”
“Experience, for one. And two, you’re not the kind of woman to let opportunity pass you by. But that doesn’t mean you need to dwell on things. How about you look at your time in Keene’s Harbor as a gift? How about you slow down and appreciate the present? The best I can figure, the future takes care of itself.”
“Nice philosophy, but I’ve seen how hard you work.”
“I’m not saying I don’t.”
“I need a plan,” she said.
He looked her way again. “Eventually you do, but not right now. There are no rules. There aren’t any Plan Police waiting to nab you. Give yourself a break.”
“Hmm,” Kate said, liking the thought. No plan. She could live with that. And truth was, she didn’t miss her old bed or her old job or her ex, but there was a hole in her heart for her dog. She desperately missed her dog.
MATT STEPPED back and took a look at the Depot Brewing Company booth. It was, as it should be, perfect. He and the road crew had set it up enough times in the past. It had taken some adjusting-and another table-to create Kate’s merchandise area, but Matt considered it effort well spent. He should have started doing this sooner.
He also wished at least a couple of his sisters could be here, but understood why they weren’t. The choice between a new nephew to pamper and working a beer festival was a no-brainer. He’d put in his share of time admiring baby Todd, too.
Harley stood beside Matt, checking out the booth. “Thirty minutes before the doors open,” he said. “You’ve done good, son.”
Matt smiled at his friend, who had as big a heart as he did a skinny body. When Matt had been a kid, he’d always mixed up Harley with the Scarecrow from
“I couldn’t do it without you. Any of it.” And Matt meant it. After Matt’s dad had booted him from the hardware store for an admittedly bad attitude, Harley had given him a job. He had also given Matt loans and advice when he’d
