Almost Heaven Page 4

  With a farewell nod, Grant closed his door, pulled away from the curb and gunned the engine in his hurry to return to Gloria.

  Merrilee stood at the curb, studying the house where she’d lived until her college years and her subsequent move to New York. The century-old, two-story Victorian with its Queen Anne turret that held her second-floor bedroom hadn’t changed. The white clapboards, set off by a dark green roof and shutters, sparkled in the sun. Her mother’s beds of daffodils and tulips filled the borders with cheery color, and the blossoming red-bud tree was a splash of lavender against the white siding. Baskets of verdant Boston ferns nestled among the inviting wicker porch furniture.

  Home.

  MJ loved her life in New York, the bustle of activity and the ever-changing variety of the city, but she’d always held this image of home in her heart, like a treasure locked away in a bank vault whose existence gave her security and peace of mind.

  With a start, she realized she’d thought of Grant that way, too. Even though she’d refused to marry him, she’d always known that he was here in Pleasant Valley, working with her father, his life unchanged since she’d left, as if waiting for her eventual return.

  Except now, with Gloria, Grant had moved on. She tried to feel happy for him, but all she felt was a depressing sense of loss, which made absolutely no sense. She’d refused to marry Grant.

  And now she couldn’t picture herself ever marrying at all.

  Merrilee climbed the porch steps, fumbled in the bottom of her purse for her key and opened the door. She was greeted by a blast of musty air instead of the usual delicious aromas emanating from the kitchen. Her footsteps on the hardwood floor echoed eerily in the empty house and suddenly it didn’t seem like home at all.

  She dropped her bags in the family room and sank into her father’s leather recliner while she assessed the painful irony of her situation. What she’d loved most about home and Pleasant Valley was the fact that nothing ever changed.

  And what she’d hated most was that nothing ever changed.

  May you have what you wish for.

  The old Chinese curse popped into her mind and she rued the day she’d ever longed for life in Pleasant Valley to be different.

  She gazed around the familiar room at the shelves of her mother’s favorite books, the sweater, folded across the back of a chair, that her mother kept downstairs in case of a sudden chill, the stack of old 45s her parents had danced to, the seed catalogs beside her father’s chair and the row of framed photographs on the mantel, a pictorial chronicle of the Strattons’ life as a family.

  Her family’s life had been happy, satisfying and filled with love and excitement. So how had things gone so horribly wrong?

  That question shook MJ to her core.

  Unable to dislodge her depression, she wandered upstairs to her parents’ bedroom and opened the closet. Her father’s side was empty, her mother’s sparsely filled. If Merrilee couldn’t mend the break between her parents, would they divorce and sell this house, the only real home she’d ever known? She tried but couldn’t picture another family living here. Couldn’t imagine her mom and dad not being together.

  Merrilee sank onto the edge of the queen-size bed, remembering Sunday mornings as a child when she’d climbed in with her parents while they’d read the comics and laughed together.

  The emptiness of the house taunted her and resolve hardened her backbone. She didn’t know if Nana’s book scheme would work, but Merrilee would give it a try. New York, fame and fortune would have to wait until she’d knitted her unraveled family back together.

  GRANT OPENED HIS FRONT door and braced himself for Gloria’s assault. The majestic young Irish wolfhound bounded into his arms with a whimper of delight, her long tongue washing his face. If he’d weighed a few pounds less or the dog a few more, Gloria would have knocked him off his feet.

  With dismay, he surveyed the living room of the log cabin he’d spent his savings and spare time to renovate. Dacron fluff from shredded cushions littered the sofa, a drapery panel hung at a precarious angle and a disgusting wetness puddled on his laboriously refinished and highly polished pine floor.

  He curbed his frustration and greeted Gloria with an affectionate hug. The dog couldn’t help her separation anxiety. It wasn’t her fault the medication he’d prescribed hadn’t taken effect yet. He could only imagine the abuse the poor animal had suffered before he’d rescued her from the roadside, injured, dehydrated, starving, with her fur matted and dirty. Her fear of men had been a silent testament to prior mistreatment. He’d worked for weeks to earn her trust. Now if he could only cure her fear of abandonment, she’d make a perfect companion.

  And, God willing, Grant thought, surveying his domain, he would accomplish that feat before she wrecked his house completely.

  Gloria loved riding, and Grant usually took her on rounds with him, but he’d been reluctant to leave her in the truck at the airport. No telling what she’d have done to his new leather upholstery.

  Not that Merrilee—or MJ, he corrected himself with a grunt of disapproval—would have minded Gloria’s presence. She’d inherited her father’s love of animals, one of the many interests she and Grant had had in common. While he mopped the floor with paper towels, then sprayed it with an enzyme cleaner and wiped again, he pondered how his encounter with his ex-fiancée had affected him.

  When Sally Mae had called with the news about Jim and asked Grant to pick up Merrilee at the airport, Grant hadn’t hesitated. He’d considered himself free of any hold Merrilee once had on him. After all, after the initial shock and heartbreak, he’d survived her desertion just fine, had gone on with his life as he’d planned, even with a Merrilee-size hole in his heart. He hadn’t expected seeing her again to affect him.

  Just as he hadn’t expected to fall in love with her that summer seven years ago when he joined Jim’s practice….

  HIS FIRST NIGHT back in Pleasant Valley after his internship, Jim and Cat had invited him to dinner to celebrate their new partnership. Cat had answered the door and as Grant had stepped into the foyer, Merrilee had come down the stairs. Expecting the same tow-headed, irritating brat that had hung out with his little sister, Grant had been struck speechless by the maturity of the beautiful young woman whose growing up had caught him by surprise.

  She’d worn a blue sundress, slightly paler than her eyes, that showed off her California tan, her pale blond hair and deliciously long legs. The clinging fabric had called subtle attention to the curve of her breasts and hips, a far cry from the flat-chested, skinny kid in jeans and T-shirts of his memory. Low-heeled sandals had made her feet with pearl-pink nails seem almost bare. But it was her smile that had captured his heart, a slow, teasing grin that shot warmth spiraling through him.

  “Hey, Grant.” Surprise was evident in her greeting. “Dad didn’t tell me you’re his new partner. I thought you’d taken a job in Georgia.”

  Grant was suddenly tongue-tied. The annoying kid he’d teased mercilessly for most of his life had turned into one of the most attractive and desirable women he’d ever encountered.

  Cat had saved him from his embarrassing silence by chiming in. “He had, but your father talked him into coming home.”

  “He didn’t have to twist my arm.” Grant finally regained his ability to speak. “I always wanted to practice in Pleasant Valley, but didn’t want to compete with Jim. Now we’re on the same team.”

  “Come in here,” Jim called from the living room. “The champagne’s open. This calls for a toast.”

  Grant followed Cat and Merrilee into the elegant but cozy room, and Jim handed each a flute of the sparkling wine. He lifted his glass to Grant. “To a long and successful partnership.”

  “Amen to that,” Cat added with enthusiasm and sipped her champagne.

  But Jim was only warming up. He raised his glass again, this time to Merrilee. “To my princess, the best daughter a man could have.”

  “Oh, Daddy,” she protested and blushed beneath
her tan, but Grant could tell she was pleased.

  “And finally,” Jim continued, “but definitely not least, to the love of my life.”

  From the adoring look Jim gave Cat as he toasted her and judging by her beaming response, Grant had no doubt of the bond between the couple. As dinner progressed, they were so obviously in tune with each other, they sometimes finished one another’s sentences.

  After the meal, Cat shooed Grant and Merrilee out of the dining room. “Jim and I will clean up. I’m sure you two have lots of catching up to do. There’s a nice breeze on the porch.”

  Grant checked for signs of matchmaking in Cat’s expression, but his partner’s wife gave no indication of guile or intrigue. Apparently, she was simply being a good hostess.

  He followed Merrilee to the wicker swing on the front porch and sat beside her.

  “What now?” she asked.

  He blinked in astonishment at her bluntness, wondering what she was expecting.

  Even in the dim twilight of the late summer evening, he could see her blush as she qualified her question. “I mean, what are your plans? Will you move back in with your parents?”

  Grant shook his head. “Going home is hard after living on my own so many years. I’m looking for my own place. What about you?”

  “I still have a year of college left.”

  “And after that, are you coming back to Pleasant Valley?”

  Merrilee looked at him as if he’d grown two heads. “What would I do here?”

  “Teach, like your mom. Isn’t that what you’d always planned, if I recall Jodie’s incessant chatter correctly?”

  She smoothed her skirt with long, slender fingers, the kind a man liked to lace his own through. Her expression turned thoughtful, almost introspective. “I had planned to teach before I realized there’s a world out there. I feel sometimes as if I’ve spent the first eighteen years of my life in isolation.”

  “Aw, c’mon.” He felt mildly offended by her put-down of their hometown. “Pleasant Valley’s a great place. You make it sound like the end of the earth.”

  Merrilee extended her toes to give the swing a push and the faint rush of air caused her honeysuckle scent to swirl around him, mixing with the fragrances from Cat’s perennial borders. The effect was intoxicating and he had to make an effort to concentrate on her words.

  “The people here are terrific, but life’s so…so predictable.”

  “And that’s bad?” Her scent stirred his blood and accelerated his pulse, but somehow he managed to keep the conversation moving in spite of the distraction.

  “Not if you like small town country living.”

  “And you don’t?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t wait to leave after college. I intend to rent an apartment in New York, probably downtown, where all the artists and musicians live.”

  “Are you going to be a writer?”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I thought you were majoring in English, like your mom.”

  “I’d planned to, but I switched my sophomore year to Fine Arts. I’m a photographer.”

  “You can take pictures in Pleasant Valley.”

  He couldn’t understand why Merrilee, with her wonderful parents and a town filled with family and friends, would want to pack up and leave. Then he recalled how anxious he’d been to get away from Pleasant Valley his freshman year in college. He’d done a lot of traveling and, after several years away, he’d learned to appreciate home. In fact he’d reached the conclusion that Pleasant Valley was about as close to heaven as a man could get.

  “I tell you what.” He wanted to spare her the same learning curve. “Spend some time with me this summer and I’ll show you all kinds of things to photograph.”

  The thought of sharing his spare time with the suddenly grown up and alluring Merrilee appealed to him on several levels.

  She cocked a feathery eyebrow, her gaze skeptical. “I love animals, but—”

  “I promise to vary the subject matter. And I bet I can show you at least two dozen good reasons not to leave Pleasant Valley.”

  Her skepticism didn’t dim. “I’m not changing my mind.”

  “But you’re afraid you might?”

  A slow smile lifted her delectably rosy lips. “Not a bit. In fact, I’ll bet I can win you over to my point of view.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “I love a challenge.” Her grin widened. “When’s your first day off?”

  “I don’t start work until next week. How about tomorrow?”

  She lowered her lashes before casting him a flirtatious glance. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

  He shook his head. “By the end of the summer, Merrilee June, I promise, you’ll hate going back to California.”

  She angled her chin in defiance. “By the end of the summer, my dad will be looking for a new partner.”

  Alarm jolted him. “My intentions are honorable.”

  She giggled, a pleasant sound like a creek bubbling over stones. “I’m sure they are. I meant that when I get through with you, Grant Nathan, you’ll find Pleasant Valley as boring as I do. You’ll be ready to move on.”

  Anxious to prove her wrong, he picked her up at ten the next morning. In shorts, T-shirt and sneakers, and with her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looked for an instant like the child he remembered. But closer scrutiny revealed the womanly curves beneath her casual clothes, the maturity in the attractive angles of her heart-shaped face and the intelligence in her bright blue eyes.

  He opened the passenger door of the pickup for her to climb inside. His vantage point provided a clear view of her long, tanned legs, crossed demurely at the ankles, and caused heat to curl below his stomach.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “It’s a surprise.” He closed the door and took a deep breath of morning air to cool his thoughts as he circled the truck and slid onto the driver’s seat.

  “I like surprises. That’s one reason I want to move. Nothing ever surprises me in Pleasant Valley.”

  “I’ve found something that will.” He started the engine, pulled away from the curb and headed downtown. He ignored her dubious expression.

  After a few short blocks he turned into a diagonal parking space on Piedmont Avenue, the main drag.

  “Not the hardware store,” she said with obvious disappointment. “Your dad’s owned this place my entire life. No surprises here.”

  “We’re not going to the hardware store.” He felt a rush of satisfaction, knowing that Merrilee would be not merely surprised, but amazed. He hadn’t learned this tidbit of information himself until yesterday.

  On the sidewalk he grasped her elbow and guided her toward the small storefront to the left of the hardware store. The windows were smudged with grime and a fading sign hung at an angle above the door.

  “Here we are,” he announced with a flourish.

  Merrilee’s jaw dropped. “Mr. Weatherstone’s old fix-it shop? It’s been empty for years.”

  “Hard to maintain a business repairing typewriters and small appliances in today’s market,” Grant agreed.

  He stepped to the glass front door, so grimy it obscured the shop’s interior, and gave three sharp knocks. “You should have brought your camera.”

  “Yeah, right.” She grimaced in distaste. “So I can shoot a fascinating montage of dust motes, dead spiders and cobwebs—”

  The door swung inward and an excited squeal interrupted her midsentence. “Merrilee! You’re back!”

  Jodie Nathan barreled through the doorway and enveloped Merrilee in a bear hug. Merrilee returned her embrace with a dazed expression.

  “Jodie, what are you doing here?” Merrilee asked.

  Jodie beamed at Grant and contentment flooded him. He hadn’t seen his sister this happy in a long time. Her hazel eyes sparkled beneath the light brown curls that had escaped from the blue bandanna tying back her hair. Even with a smudge of dirt across one cheek, she look
ed radiant.

  His sister tugged Merrilee inside and Grant followed.

  Jodie, arms flung wide, pirouetted in the center of the floor in front of the old service counter. “Isn’t it wonderful? It’s all mine.”

  “Yours?” Merrilee shook her head, plainly bewildered. “You’re going to open a fix-it shop?”

  Jodie stopped her spiral and faced Merrilee, eyes shining. “You’re looking at the future home of Jodie’s Mountain Crafts and Café.”

  Merrilee looked stunned.

  Grant laughed. “I said you’d be surprised.”

  “The building’s narrow, but it’s deep,” Jodie explained. “There’s room up front for counter service—I’ll only offer breakfast and lunch. I’ll cut a wide hallway down the side with shelving to display mountain crafts and supplies, and Grant’s helping Dad build a deck out back for more seating. Customers can gaze across the river at the mountains while they eat.”

  “Wow,” Merrilee said. “When did you dream this up? You never mentioned it in your letters.”

  “I’m tired of working for others at practically minimum wage. Living with Mom and Dad, I’ve saved my money, just waiting for a place downtown to come on the market. When Mrs. Weatherstone listed this yesterday, I jumped at it. Dad and Grant co-signed for the mortgage.”

  “See, things do change in Pleasant Valley.” Grant didn’t try to keep the satisfaction from his voice.

  “By the time you graduate next year,” Jodie said to Merrilee, “I’ll have the place up and running. We can be partners. With your background in art, you can run the crafts end of the business and I’ll handle the cooking and serving.”

  Merrilee’s face crumpled. “Oh, Jodie, I hope you’re not counting on me—”

  “I’m doing this no matter what,” his sister announced with steely determination. “If you want to be a part of it, though, we’ll have a ball.”

  “Where’s Brittany?” Merrilee abruptly changed the subject, quashing Grant’s hope for a partnership between her and his sister.

  “At school.” Jodie’s expression softened at the mention of her daughter. “I can’t believe my baby’s almost through first grade.”