The House on Main Street Read online

  “She said she’s staying here, Ida.”

  “And I said I was happy to hear it, but a family needs money to support itself. If Dave and Emily didn’t leave enough money to pay the taxes on the house and to cover Alex’s therapy, Tess is going to have to have a job. Finding one here may be—”

  “Emily and Dave didn’t leave squat, but it doesn’t matter. Tess said we’re staying. Stop trying to change the girl’s mind,” Gertrude barked, then sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. This has been . . . tough, and I’m just plumb wore out.”

  “I know, and you don’t need to apologize. We’ve been friends far too long for that.” Ida patted Gertrude’s arm.

  “Which is why I shouldn’t have taken my mood out on you.” Gertrude glared at Tess, apparently more than happy to take it out on her.

  “Water under the bridge, dear. Now, how about we get back to why I came knocking on your door at dinnertime? I already told Tessa. We’re going to have a lovely community tea this Friday. Give everyone a good look at Miriam’s angel. Once it’s over, I’m going to bring her back here. Since you’re staying, the angel really should stay, too.”

  “You don’t know how relieved I am to hear that. I should never have donated it. The angel was meant to stay with the house, or at least with the last Riley,” Gertrude said.

  To Tessa’s shock and horror, Gertrude’s voice broke.

  Was she going to cry?

  “You’re in the midst of a very emotional time.” Ida pulled Gertrude in for a hug. “I knew when Cade brought me the angel that you’d regret giving it up. Alex deserves to have every part of his legacy. His family was such an important part of Apple Valley’s history, and I’m sure it will continue to be part of our story for years to come.”

  “Thank you, Ida,” Gertrude mumbled, her voice a little stronger. “You’re a class act.”

  “As are you. Now”—Ida stepped back and brushed a wrinkle from her skirt—“you two come to the tea on Friday afternoon. We’re starting at three and ending at six. You don’t have to stay the whole time, but it would be really nice to have you there.”

  “We will be. Won’t we, Tess?”

  Tess supposed that they would be, but she wasn’t sure how excited she was by the idea. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to reconnect with old friends. It was just that she didn’t want to see what she knew would be in the eyes of every one of the people she’d gone to high school with.

  That I-told-you-so look that made it clear that Tessa had thought way too much of herself and her talents when she’d driven away from town.

  It wouldn’t matter that she’d gone to college, gotten a degree, had had a good-paying job with a prestigious company. No, all that would matter was that she was back, living in a run-down house on an overgrown piece of property.

  Ida walked outside and Tess followed, standing on the porch and watching as the mayor picked her way across the yard and got into her black sedan.

  A quick honk of the horn and Ida was gone, the taillights of the car disappearing from view.

  Across the street, Charlotte’s house was dark. Not one light shining from the windows. Apple Valley didn’t have much of a nightlife, but there were things to do if a person looked hard enough. Reading groups at the library, bowling at Mike’s Bowl City. As far as Tessa knew, in the summer the drive-in theater still ran G-rated movies.

  Eventually, Tess would get back into the swing of small-town life. Whether or not it would drive her stark-raving mad remained to be seen.

  She glanced at Zim’s house. It wasn’t dark. There were Christmas lights shining from the porch railing, lights spilling out from the front windows, and more lights glowing on either side of the door. The curtains in the front window were open, and beyond it a decorated Christmas tree sparkled in a well-lit room.

  Zim might be worried about his neighbor’s messes, but he wasn’t worried about his electric bill.

  A figure walked past the window. Not the old stoop-shouldered man Tessa expected. Someone taller, broader. Someone who looked a lot like . . .

  Zim’s front door opened, and Cade stepped outside with Zimmerman.

  Dark hair glinting with reflected Christmas lights, his leather jacket unzipped and revealing his uniform shirt. Man! He filled it out well, his abdomen flat and taut beneath the light blue cotton.

  She shouldn’t be noticing that. Just like she shouldn’t have noticed how good he smelled earlier, or how nice it felt to be back in his arms. Funny how easy it was to fall back into old patterns.

  She hadn’t seen the guy for ten years, and then suddenly, all she was doing was seeing him. Every place she went, there he was. Just like when they were kids.

  Only she wasn’t a kid, and she knew exactly where all that seeing him and thinking about him would lead.

  He glanced her way, and she took an unconscious step back, nearly tripping in her haste.

  “Idiot!” she hissed, hurrying into the house and closing the door. Locking it tight as if Cade were going to come bursting in demanding her attention again.

  No. He wouldn’t do that. He’d wait for her to come looking for him. That’s what the pattern had always been. Not this time, though. She’d grown up a lot since the days when she’d chased him around town, hanging on his every word and laughing at his jokes. She’d been so desperate it was almost embarrassing to think about.

  It was embarrassing to think about.

  A soft noise drifted from the depth of the house. Not a sigh exactly, but something close to it.

  Tess stiffened, all thoughts of Cade gone as she cocked her head and listened.

  Upstairs, pots and pans were clanging and Gertrude was humming. Ida’s visit must have cheered her up. Downstairs, the air felt thick and heavy, the musty scent of dust still hanging in the air after days of cleaning.

  There!

  She heard it again!

  The same soft sound. Not quite a sigh. Not quite a whisper.

  The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and she was tempted to go upstairs and pretend she hadn’t heard anything, but that wasn’t her style.

  She’d always been a realist. Always been pragmatic and grounded. Aside from her little foray into puppy love as a teen, she’d never lost her head over anyone or anything. Even Kent, the man she’d planned to marry, hadn’t been able to sweep her off her feet.

  That’s probably why she’d been more irritated than brokenhearted when she’d realized what a lying, cheating ass he was.

  She flipped on lights as she walked through the front room and into the dining room. She didn’t know what she expected to see. A ghostly apparition? A creepy doll swinging in one of the old baby swings?

  There was nothing. Everything was still and quiet, the clutter weeded down to a manageable pile of crappy stuff that someone might want. Gertrude had been working hard while Tess was scraping the house. She’d give her that.

  She walked into the old kitchen, completely sure that there was going to be nothing there, either.

  A dark shadow moved in front of her, darting to the left as she entered.

  She screamed, her heart nearly bursting from her chest before she realized what she was seeing.

  Who she was seeing.

  “Alex! What in the he—world are you doing down here!” she hollered, flipping on the light and looking into her nephew’s startled face.

  He blinked, his blue eyes wide and empty.

  “Alex?” She gentled her voice. “You weren’t trying to go outside, were you?” She glanced at the mudroom. No way could he squeeze his way through the mess in there to get out the back door. She wasn’t sure he knew that, though.

  “No,” he answered.

  “What—”

  He turned his back to her, walking across the nearly clean kitchen and touching the old china cabinet that stood against the wall. He pressed his forehead against the glass.

  “We need to bring her back,” he said so quietly Tessa almost didn’t hear.


  “What?” She put a hand on his shoulder, wincing when he tensed.

  “My angel.”

  “You mean the one Gertrude gave away?”

  “Yes. She goes here.” He shrugged away from Tessa and opened the cabinet. It was stuffed full of trinkets. Old chipped china cups and porcelain knickknacks. Yellowed lace doilies. Things piled on top of things, none of it seeming to have any particular order or value.

  Alex seemed to know what he was looking for, though.

  He lifted a pile of doilies and revealed a wooden box. Maybe five by seven inches, it had an intricate mother-of-pearl inlay on the top and a tiny lock on the side.

  Alex handed the box to Tessa, replaced the doilies, and closed the cabinet.

  “What is it?”

  “Miriam’s,” he said as if she should know exactly what that meant.

  “Okay, it was Miriam’s. But . . . what is it?”

  “’Night, Tessa,” he responded, walking out of the room.

  She would have followed, but she was too busy basking in his words. Tessa. It was the first time he’d called her that. Ever.

  She hugged the box to her chest and turned off the kitchen light, her heart thumping the painful, slow rhythm of love for her nephew. She’d been at the hospital when he was born, had looked into his eyes and been lost.

  When he was diagnosed with autism, she’d flown in to be with her sister, hoping to offer support. She’d watched Alex sit at the piano. Three years old and tapping out a melody that was both boisterous and lively. He hadn’t spoken a word in his life at that point. Not one, but Tess had believed he would. She’d told Emily that one day he’d say Mommy, Daddy, Aunt Gertrude. And, one day, he would say Aunt Tessa.

  Eventually, he’d started calling his family members by name, but he hadn’t seen Tessa frequently enough to include her in the small group of people that he communicated with.

  The day had finally come.

  Too bad Emily wasn’t around to see it.

  Chapter Eight

  Seeing Tessa three times in one day was probably overkill, but Cade couldn’t seem to make himself care. He walked up the creaky porch stairs and knocked on the door.

  An hour with Zim had calmed the older man down and elicited a promise to leave the McKenzies alone for a while. Zim hadn’t been all that excited about it, but he’d agreed to give Tessa and Gertrude time to clean things up. Tess would be happy to hear that, but that wasn’t the real reason Cade was standing outside her door.

  He wanted to see her again.

  It was as simple as that.

  The door opened a crack and Tess peered out, a chain pulled tight across the crack in the door. “What are you doing here?”

  “Standing on the porch waiting for you to open the door.”

  Most of Tessa’s face was hidden, but he was pretty sure she smiled. “Smart-ass.”

  “True. Are you going to let me in, or am I going to have to stand out here freezing my—”

  “Hold on.” She closed the door, and the chain rattled as she unhooked it. Seconds later, the door opened wide.

  “Come on in. Even though I’m not sure I want to hear what you have to say.” Tessa stepped back, a small wooden box in her hands. It was a pretty little thing. Much prettier than most of the stuff Cade had seen in This-N-That.

  “What’s this?” he asked, plucking the box from her hand and studying it.

  “I don’t know. Alex pulled it out of an old china cabinet.”

  “Anything in it?” He tried to open the box, but it was locked.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Want me to break it open?”

  “No!” She snatched it back, her eyes blazing. “This is over a century old, Cade.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You should be.” She set the little box on a table and put her hands on her hips, her jaw tilted up. This Tess was a Tess he knew. Strong, determined, and just a little belligerent.

  “What are you smiling about?” she asked impatiently.

  “You.”

  “Well, stop. I’m trying to maintain my sour mood.” But a tiny smile curved the corners of her mouth.

  “Now, why would you want to do a thing like that?”

  “Because, you’re about to tell me what old Zim said.”

  He laughed and was rewarded with a full-out smile. She had beautiful lips, silky and deep pink, and he couldn’t quite stop looking at them.

  “So, go ahead. Tell me what he said,” she demanded, raking her hand over her hair, smoothing some of the wild curls.

  “Not much. Mostly he listened to what I had to say.”

  “You’re kidding, right? Because Zimmerman Beck does not seem like the kind of guy who likes to spend a lot of time listening.”

  “Zim may be a grumpy old man, but he can be reasonable. He’s agreed to back off for a while. I think the progress you’ve made on your house might have had something to do with that.” The fact that Cade had told Zim that he wasn’t going to win any points in the community by harassing a grieving family had helped, too.

  “Well, that’s a relief. I’m working as fast as I can, but the man has called at least a dozen times today. I was beginning to think that if Gertrude didn’t kill the guy, I would have to.”

  “Murder is against the law, Tess. I can’t recommend it.” He tucked a curl behind her ear, just because he wanted to touch her silky hair and velvety skin.

  She stilled, her eyes going wide, the pulse in the hollow of her neck beating rapidly. He almost slid his finger to the spot, just to see how far he could push things before Tess pushed back. To see if maybe she wouldn’t push back. But she was pale, her eyes deeply shadowed, and he figured that what she needed more than some jackass making a pass at her was a friend.

  “I was kidding,” he said, to break the silence and the tension.

  “I was, too.” The huskiness in her voice made his gut tighten. “But I’d be lying if I said Zim hasn’t driven me to the edge of sanity today. I don’t blame him for being upset about the house, but I have other things to worry about.”

  “Like?”

  “The fact that Alex left school without permission today. The fact that I don’t really know how to reach him, Gertrude thinks I’m a loser, and I’m wondering if she’s right. And then there’s my job . . . I’m going to have to quit, but if I do, I won’t have an income or any way to pay the bills Emily and Dave left behind. If I can’t . . .” She shook her head. “Sorry. That’s probably way more than you wanted to know.”

  “I want to know it all,” he responded, holding both her hands, palm to palm, fingers woven together. Just like they had when they were little kids sharing each other’s deepest dreams. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten that for so long. Forgotten how much he’d enjoyed just being with her.

  “Look, Cade. I’m fine, okay? You don’t have to worry about me.” She tugged her hands from his, and his palms felt cold, his hands empty.

  “I’m not worried. I’m just trying to understand.”

  “What? How my sister and brother-in-law could have left such a mess? Or how I ended up being the one who had to clean it up?”

  “How you ended up so damn responsible when your sister was—” A loser didn’t seem like the right way to describe a dead woman, but Cade was tempted. He knew how many times Tess had gotten Emily out of trouble. She’d written term papers for her sister, paid for items that Emily had stolen from local shops. She’d cleaned up puke when Emily drank too much, and she’d snuck out in the middle of the night to follow Emily to parties, staking out whatever house or apartment her sister went into and escorting her home.

  “Someone had to be responsible,” Tess said wearily.

  “You were a good sister to her, Tess. I know she thought so.”

  “Maybe when we were kids, but it’s been years since I spent any amount of time with her.”

  “She still loved you,” he said, mostly because it seemed like what he should say. The fact was, love had
been something Emily wanted, but not something she knew how to give. Not for any length of time, anyway.

  “As much as she could love anyone, I suppose.” Tess walked into what had once been a parlor and stared out into the dark yard.

  She and her sister had been about as opposite as two people could be. One driven. The other lackadaisical. One focused. The other flighty. One loyal. The other . . .

  He couldn’t call Emily traitorous, but she was a cheat. He’d found that out the hard way right around the time Emily had announced her pregnancy. He’d assumed the baby was his, even though their relationship had been rocky since he’d gone off to college, and he’d been prepared to do the right thing. He had a ring, had perfected his proposal speech, and he’d even been excited about the idea of being a father.

  He’d told Tess all about his plans, the two of them sitting on his parents’ porch swing. She’d smelled like vanilla and cinnamon. He remembered that. What he couldn’t remember was what she’d said after he’d told her. Good luck, maybe. Or, I hope you’ll be happy.

  “You weren’t happy when you found out Emily was pregnant, were you?” He’d never thought to ask before, didn’t know why he felt the need to ask ten years after the fact.

  She shrugged, her shoulders taut beneath a faded sweatshirt. She’d pushed the sleeves up, and her forearms were smooth and flecked with gray paint from the hours she’d spent scraping the house. Even after her death, Emily had the power to make her sister work for her. No wonder Tess had left town and never looked back.

  “Did you leave town because you were afraid you’d end up taking care of her baby?” That was another thing he’d never asked. She hadn’t given him the chance. Just packed up and gone. A day past eighteen and determined to make her way in the world, Gertrude had said bitterly Christmas morning. Cade had been surprised. Shocked even, but he’d been too nervous about the proposal to think much about Tess.

  “I’m not really in the mood for a jaunt down memory lane, Cade.” She swung around, and he was struck by her beauty, the delicate line of her jaw, and the almost harsh angle of her cheekbones. And those eyes. Large and purplish, and right at that moment, filled with a truckload of irritation.