Читать книгу Hometown Princess - Lenora Worth, Rachel Hauck - Страница 10

Armed with a cheeseburger for lunch, Cari headed back to the house to get busy. She had to call the contractor she’d hired and find out when he could start the renovations, that is, if he could give her a good quote. Then she wanted to call the phone company to get a landline for the boutique. Eventually, she’d need a computer for both the cash register and for placing orders. She’d also need to rebuild her Web site with the new location. But for now, her old laptop would have to do for some of that.

If she could get the bottom floor repaired and updated over the next few weeks and generate some revenue, she’d worry about the upstairs later. She’d read up on renovating old homes and all the advice said to take it one room at a time, starting with the most urgent ones. Maybe she could save some money by starting the preliminary work herself and leave the hard stuff to the contractor.

Doreen had left several pieces of antique furniture scattered throughout the house. The woman didn’t know a thing about high-quality furniture but that would work to Cari’s advantage now. She’d dusted and polished the old Queen Anne buffet she’d found in the parlor. That would make a nice display table and she could use the drawers to store jewelry and small items such as scarves and belts.

There was an old four-poster oak bed upstairs. It was rickety and needed some tender loving care, but it would be a jewel when Cari refinished it. She’d put it in the turret room and make it her own. With the few other pieces she’d found, she had enough to do some sparse decorating.

“Well, I’d say the kitchen and bathroom down here are both really urgent.” But they were both clean now and she had the callused, rough hands to prove it. The bathroom was in fairly good working order, but it needed new fixtures and, well, new everything.

She put the cheeseburger bag on the now clean but chipped linoleum counter then turned to admire her handiwork in the old kitchen. The rickety white table and chairs had been scrubbed and looked halfway decent, but the old cabinets needed to be completely redone. They were high and big with plenty of good storage space. That was a plus. She’d gone through them and wiped them down then placed shelf liners in each one. She had a few mismatched dishes she’d unpacked and her coffeepot. Fresh daisies in a Mason jar made the old white table seem almost happy.

Some groceries would help. And a refrigerator. Standing in the long wide kitchen, she called the man Jolena had suggested. He immediately gave her some quotes on various sizes and styles. Cari thanked him and told him she’d be out to look this afternoon. Having taken care of that, she surveyed the kitchen again, memories washing over her with a gentleness that reminded her of her mother.

The room was long and wide and filled with windows that had once looked out over a vast backyard that ran all the way down to the nearby river. That backyard had been sold in increments as First Street commercialism had continued to grow right into the old suburban Victorian neighborhood built along the Chattahoochee River.

Duncan House was one of the few remaining original homes built here at the turn of the century. Most of them has been razed or renovated beyond recognition to make way for progress. And while Cari was thankful that her small town was now a tourist mecca, she sure wanted to bring back some of that Victorian charm that had once colored the place.

“Starting with Duncan House.”

Maybe she’d update the kitchen to make it functional for events and turn it into a nice sitting area for customers. She could bring over some cookies and pies from Jolena’s Diner and serve them with coffee and tea from the old antique sideboard shoved up against one wall. Just like her mother used to do when they’d invited company over for Sunday dinner.

“And where will I get the money for that?” she wondered, thinking she only had a few thousand in her bank account and her one remaining charge card was for emergencies only. Getting a bank loan scared her silly since her credit history wasn’t the best, but she had to try.

Determination and the financial budget she’d worked so hard to create and maintain over the past couple of years driving her on, Cari put away her bag and decided, now that she’d cleared and cleaned the downstairs open area, she’d give the bathroom one more thorough cleaning. She could then tackle the upstairs again, just to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.

First on the list would be to make sure the stairs were safe. They’d seemed a bit wobbly yesterday when she’d ventured up to see her turret room. That was another thing on the list—the turret room was intact but dirty and waterlogged from broken windowpanes. The pigeons seemed to love to roost there, too.

“Too bad about that.”

She remembered the room when it had been all bright whites and feminine blues and yellows, with a tiny little table and chairs and a real porcelain tea set where she’d entertained her dolls and, sometimes, her father and mother, too. Cari had clopped around in a big hat and a pair of feather-encrusted plastic high heels, a princess content in her own skin. And very innocent and naive in her security.

“Too bad about that, too.”

But she intended to restore the room in those same sky-blues and sunshine-yellows, using a hydrangea theme since the old bushes out front were still intact and blooming to beat the band.

Hearing the front door squeak open, she wondered if the contractor was here already.

“Ye-hoo? Anybody home?”

Doreen. Cari gave herself a mental shake. She wouldn’t let that woman get to her. Taking a deep, calming breath, she called out, “I’m in the kitchen.”

Doreen came through the arched doorway to stop just inside the empty kitchen, her gaze sweeping the room with distaste. “I just had to come and see for myself if all the rumors I kept hearing were true.” Patting her bright red teased hair, she shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You can’t be serious, Cari.”

Cari prayed for patience. Putting her hands down beside her jeans so she wouldn’t use them to do physical harm, she lifted her eyebrows. “Serious? Oh, you mean about reopening Duncan House? Yes, I’m very serious.”

Doreen dropped her designer bag on the table. “I heard about it at the chamber of commerce meeting the other night and I just couldn’t believe my ears. I mean, I knew your father left this old place to you—why, I’ll never understand. But honestly, I expected you to call me, begging me to list it, just to get it off your hands.”

Cari couldn’t believe the audacity of this vile woman. “Why would I do that, Doreen? This is all I have left. You managed to get the rest.”

Score one for Cari. The woman bristled to the point of turning as red as her dyed hair. “Your father left everything to me because he knew you’d just squander it away. I mean, c’mon, now, Cari, you don’t actually think you can make a go of things in this old building, do you? The last tenant found out pretty quick that this place is way too far gone to run a business in. The utilities alone are over the top.”

“From what I heard, you charged the last tenant too much rent and made too many demands for him to keep his photography and frame business going. I heard he moved to a new strip mall out on I-75 and he’s doing great.”

“That obnoxious man—I was glad to be rid of him. Always calling wanting something fixed, something changed. Impossible to deal with.”

Doreen wouldn’t give an inch, Cari knew. So she didn’t try to argue with the woman. “I’m here to stay, Doreen. Get used to it.”

Doreen grabbed her purse. “We’ll see how long you last. You know, if you get desperate and want to sell, I’ll cut you a deal. I’d planned to have this place torn down and if we both play our cards right, that can still happen. I’ll be glad to take it off your hands and for a fair price, too.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Cari asked. “Especially since you didn’t take care of it when you were the landlord?”

“I had other priorities,” Doreen shot back, the crow’s feet around her eyes lined with too much concealer. “But now that your father is gone, well, I’m being a bit more aggressive in buying up more property.” She swept the room with a harsh glance. “This should have stayed mine anyway. But I’m willing to buy it back and then maybe you can get out from under that mound of debt you brought back with you. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“I won’t,” Cari said, seething underneath her calm. Buy it back? Over her dead body.

She waited until the annoying clicking sound of Doreen’s pumps had left the building then turned and ran out the back door to catch her breath. Leaning over the old railing, Cari felt sick to her stomach. Feeling tears of frustration she didn’t dare shed, she held her head down and stared at an efficient ant trail moving steadily along the crack in the steps.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

She looked up to find Rick standing there staring at her, his smile friendly, his eyes calm.

Cari inhaled a deep breath. “You mean out in the alley, while I’m having a hissy fit?”

“Is that what you’re having? I would have never guessed.” Even though he was smiling, she appreciated the concern in his eyes.

Cari shook her hair off her face. “The wicked stepmother just paid me a friendly visit. Offered to buy me out. Can you believe that after the way she let this place get all run-down?”

Rick could tell she was hanging on by a thread, so he decided to keep things light. “Interesting that she’d even suggest that. I saw her taking off on her broom a couple of minutes ago so you’re safe for now. If it’s any consolation, she looked madder than a wet hornet.”

“That does make me feel better,” Cari replied, her eyes brightening. “I shouldn’t let her get to me, but she does. She always has.”

He sat down on the steps. “Got a minute to chat?”

She looked back inside. “Sure, none of this is going anywhere soon. And if I don’t get a bank loan, it’s not going to change anytime soon.”

Rick understood she had a lot on her mind, but he needed to clarify something. “Look, Cari, about earlier at the diner when you asked me why I came back here?”

She put a hand over her eyes. “Oh, you mean when I was being completely nosy and out of line?”

“You weren’t out of line. Nosy, yes, but out of line, no. It’s just that I don’t like to talk about my reasons for coming home. It’s…complicated.”

She slapped him on the arm. “Tell me something I don’t know. I’m the queen of complicated homecomings.”

His expression relaxed as he let out a long sigh. “Seems we both came back here to prove something to somebody, maybe?”

“Now who’s being nosy?”

“Okay, I admit I’m wondering why you did come back and especially to such a challenging project?”

She put her head in her hands and stared down at her pink toenails. “My father left me this house. After our rocky relationship, that was enough reason for me.”

Rick knew right then and there that Cari Duncan was someone special. And he could certainly understand the concept of needing something to hold on to, some sort of validation from a loved one. “Well, my father left the general store to my mother and my brother and me and one of the reasons I came home was to make sure we kept the legacy of his hard work alive and thriving. My brother Simon is an introverted artist, a boot maker who lost his wife a few years back. He didn’t want anything to do with running a retail store and, honestly, he doesn’t have time. And my mom tried her best to keep things going but she was working herself into an early grave, just like my dad. I had to come home to help. And…I needed to get away from Atlanta. You know, that same old crowd—hard to shake.”

She didn’t respond at first. She just sat looking at her feet. Then she said, “Funny, I loved the crowds. I lived in Athens after college and then moved to Atlanta. I had a good job—a career, with my own boutique and employees who worked hard selling my designs and other brands. I was in an upscale part of town and I was making pretty good money. I partied and laughed and played and spent way too much money trying to keep up with the crowd, trying to live up to this image I had of myself. It caught up with me when I fell for the wrong man. He decided he liked my cash flow a lot more than he loved me. I carried him after he lost his job—bad idea. I went into debt trying to buy his love. But I got rid of the slacker boyfriend and I got help from this very strict financial advisor who put me on a tough budget. I’ve managed to pay off a lot of it and I’ve even saved a little bit—a first for me.”

“So you came home to start over.”

She looked up finally, her eyes glistening like muted turquoise glass. “Yes, and to fix the mistakes I made with my father. Only, it’s too late, I think.”

Rick looked around at the pines and oaks out beyond the honeysuckle vines lining the alley wall. A cool breeze moved over the oak trees and played through the wind chimes his mother had hung at the back door of the general store. “I’m sorry you lost your father, but if he left you this place then it has to mean something, right?”

“That’s what I’m hoping,” she said. “And that’s what I want to figure out. Why did he leave me this house when he seemed so distant in life? Is that too weird?”

The little catch of doubt in her words held him. “Not weird at all. I think it’s rather noble to want to fix this place up, to honor your parents.”

“But foolish?”

“Nope. Just as long as you don’t let she-who-won’t-be-named get to you. That kind of distraction can derail you.”

She stood up, her hands on the splintered banister again. “That will be the biggest challenge.” Then she smiled down at him. “But thanks for explaining things to me about why you came back. I don’t think my reasons are nearly so clear-cut, but here I am.”

“I didn’t explain everything. There was a woman involved. She wanted more than I could give, so we parted ways. Took me a while to get my head straight. So just like you, here I am.”

“Who would have thunk it, huh?”

He got up, shaking his head. “I guess we’re the next generation.”

“I guess so. Knotwood Mountain has lots of potential. I never planned to leave here. I was just kind of driven away. And I thought I’d never be able to come back. But this opportunity came along at the right time.”

“And so now you’re back and you seem to have a lot of potential yourself,” he said before he could hold back. Then he turned to get back to work. Even a good distraction was still a distraction, after all. “I guess I’ll see you out here a lot, considering how I deal with women every day in the store and I have one very temperamental mother. I know how many hissy fits a woman can throw.”

“You got that right,” she said. “I’m pretty sure this won’t be my last one. I’m waiting to hear from the contractor then I’m going begging at the bank. If I can’t get a loan for an overhaul, I guess I’ll just fix up the downstairs and open for business. Start out small and work my way up, hopefully.”

Rick took in that bit of information. He had connections down at the bank, but Cari would be insulted if he offered his help. Still, he wanted to help. “Good luck,” he said, his mind spinning as he watched her head back inside.

Then his cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“Rick, how you doing?”

“Jolena, what’s up?”

“I need to talk to you. About a mutual friend.”

“Oh, yeah, and who’s that?”

“Cari Duncan,” Jolena replied. “I’ve got a plan but I need your help.”

“Name it,” Rick said, wondering what Jolena had up her sleeve. And wondering why her timing always seemed to be just right.

When he heard her idea, he had to smile. This just might work and if it did, Cari would have to go along with it. She’d be crazy not to.