Lakeside Sweethearts Read online

  “It’s been over five years. I just thought—”

  “Ian, I’d do almost anything for you…for your family. Especially after what your daddy did for mine all those years ago. But I can’t do this. And you of all people shouldn’t be asking me.” She bundled the damp tablecloth and wet napkins into a ball.

  “Listen—”

  She held up a hand. “No, you listen. I said I’d never step foot in that wretched house again.”

  Ian rounded the table and stood in front of her. “I know your marriage to Bobby wasn’t what you had envisioned, but he’s not around anymore. You even went back to your maiden name. He has no hold on you.”

  She dropped her eyes to the wet fabric in her arms. “That house holds nothing but bad memories for me. I’ve spent the past five and a half years putting that decade of my life behind me.”

  “Have you?” He tipped her chin.

  “Have I what?”

  “Put it behind you? If so, then going back to that house wouldn’t be a problem.”

  She pushed past him and headed for the door. “You have no idea.”

  He reached for her arm. “I can’t do this alone.”

  “My head is ready to jump on board, but my heart…well, they’re not on speaking terms at the moment. I know this is so important to all y’all. Just once I wish God would take a shine to answering one of my dreams.”

  The longing in her voice needled his heart. “God has a dream bigger than your own, Red. What He gives you will be greater than anything you’ve ever imagined.”

  “Not for a throwaway like me.” The desolation on her face twisted his gut. “You’re hoping to restore that place into a house of hope, but don’t y’all see? It will never be anything but a house of pain.”

  She pushed past him and hurried into the main dining room. The lingering scent of her perfume wasn’t strong enough to mask the defeat that settled over his shoulders.

  He had been so sure she’d say yes. But now he needed to find another way to convince her to agree—for all of their sakes.

  He wanted her help with Agape House, but not just for restoring his family. More than that, he wanted to restore her heart and prove she was worthy of being loved.

  *

  If she were a real friend, she’d shove her regrets and bad memories into the past where they belonged and help Ian. As her family’s dearest friends, they’d drop everything if the roles were reversed.

  So why couldn’t she do it?

  Agnes shoved the tablecloths into the washer and slammed the lid, trying to blot Ian’s pleading eyes from her memory.

  Being in that house would release the ghosts she’d managed to imprison so she’d have some semblance of a normal life.

  Saying no was her only option.

  Agnes returned to the kitchen to find it empty, but a light glowed from under Josie’s closed office door. Probably needed a few minutes with her feet up.

  Josie’s pregnancy with Noah, her eleven-month-old, had been a piece of cake. With this new pregnancy, she dealt with a lot of morning sickness…or as she called it—all day sickness.

  Agnes tried to convince her to go home, but she insisted on helping with the luncheon.

  Agnes opened the stainless steel industrial refrigerator and reached for the glass bowl of mixed greens. Balancing the covered bowl against her chest, she grabbed the stack of salad plates chilling on the top shelf and closed the door with her foot. She set everything on the stainless counter, then washed her hands.

  Not even the scent of lemon meringue pie baking in the oven could add sweetness to her sour mood.

  The kitchen door swung open, and Hannah, Josie and Nick’s twelve-year-old daughter, bounced into the kitchen, wearing brown leggings, a blue fitted T-shirt that matched the rest of the Cuppa Josie’s staff and a striped Cuppa Josie’s apron.

  Although she was too young to work, Hannah liked to volunteer and help when Josie had private parties in the side dining room.

  “I’m here to help, Aggie. Tell me what you need.” Hannah rested an elbow on the counter and snatched a tomato out of the salad Agnes pulled from the fridge.

  Agnes tapped her on the nose. “Thanks, Sugar Pie.”

  Two years ago, Nick had donated his bone marrow to knock the leukemia from her body. Now Hannah thrived with color restored back in her cheeks. A miniature clone of Josie, but with her daddy’s eyes and nose, Hannah had chin-length cocoa-colored hair, held back with a flowered headband. Almost as tall as Josie now, she had a sweet spirit that touched everyone she met.

  “Have you seen Mom?”

  “Her office light is on. She may be taking a breather for a minute.”

  Agnes nodded toward the glass plates she had pulled from the fridge. “Please take those to the side dining room and set them on the buffet table. The coffee and tea are already on the beverage table, but you could put out some lemonade. I’ll be in with the salad as soon as I add the cranberries and almonds.”

  Hannah reached for the plates and pushed through the door.

  Josie chose that moment to return to the kitchen, refastening her hair into a messy bun. A blue Cuppa Josie’s apron tied at her waist emphasized her expanding belly. “Sorry for ditching you. One of the coffee suppliers called to confirm a new shipment.”

  “Everything straightened out?”

  “Yes, I will be able to use my superpowers to continue to caffeinate the world.” She stifled a yawn. Dark circles gathered under her brown eyes, highlighting her pale skin.

  Agnes opened the bag of dried cranberries and poured them into the salad. “Sugar Pie, why don’t you let me handle this luncheon, and you put your feet up?”

  “Agnes, this isn’t 1950. I’ve been pregnant before. I can handle it.” Josie smiled as she reached for pot holders to pull the pie out of the oven.

  “You’ve been working since six this morning. Surely you could use a break.”

  “I’ll leave as soon as the luncheon is done. I promise. Hannah’s here to help. Nick took Noah to Dad and Gracie’s. So we’re all good.” Josie pulled eggs from the fridge and set them on the counter next to her KitchenAid mixer.

  Agnes waved the salad tongs at her. “I’m sticking you to it.”

  With one hand bracing the counter and the other folded on her hip, Josie gave Agnes a pointed look. “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  No use in pretending she didn’t know what Josie was talking about. No matter how wide her smile, Josie could always pinpoint when Agnes had something stuck in her craw. She stared at the salad, trying to figure out what to say. “I’m a fool. And a rotten friend.”

  “I doubt that.” Josie pulled over a stool and patted the top. “Have a seat and tell me what happened.”

  “Men can be so clueless.”

  “Uh, yeah, hello—I married one. Nick’s great, but he has his moments. What’s up?”

  Agnes recapped her earlier conversation with Ian, including his breakup with Emily.

  “Sweetie, you’re hardly a terrible friend. Does Ian know why the house holds such bad memories for you?”

  “He knows about Bobby’s cheating and gambling, and the fall, but the rest is too painful to talk about.”

  Her ex-husband’s name sent a shudder through her. Permanent gouges scarred her heart, thanks to her ex’s straying.

  The first time it had happened, she’d been hoodwinked by his tearful promises that proved to be as empty as his bank account. The second time she left, he managed to lure her home after a week. Again more empty promises. The third…well, that was for good.

  His lies and cheating destroyed more than her credit rating and their marriage that night.

  “I didn’t mean to bring up a sensitive subject.”

  “No worries. Like Ian said—it’s in the past.” Agnes slid off the stool. “Let’s get the food set out so you can get out of here.”

  “Just a second.” Josie opened the carton and reached for an egg but made no move to break it. “Now t
hat Ian and Emily aren’t together, what are you going to do?”

  “Do?”

  “Now’s your chance, Agnes.”

  “Chance for what?”

  “To let Ian know how you really feel about him.”

  “Ian is my best friend. We need to leave it at that.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because I said so…that’s why.”

  “Oh, good answer.” Josie cracked the egg on the edge of her mixer bowl. “Life is passing you by, Agnes. You spend your time serving and caring about others. It’s time to knock down those walls around your heart and go after what you truly want.”

  “If only it were that simple. Years ago, I let Ian know how I felt before I went off to college in Texas. Ian said he didn’t want me to feel tied down in a long distance relationship. Then, over Christmas break, he mentioned he had started seeing someone at school. Bobby asked me out, and I guess the rest is history.”

  “You quit school after your freshman year to get married, right? That was almost twenty years ago. That boy is a man who drools over you like a morning pastry. Maybe working together on Agape House would be a great way to see if there could be more than friendship between you two.”

  “Ian deserves the family I can’t give him. Besides, I can’t risk our friendship. Not again. If something destroyed that, then I’d have nothing. My heart couldn’t bear that.”

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Agnes. Maybe it’s time you threw caution to the wind and took a chance before someone else snatches him up.”

  “Maybe someone should. At least he could have the future he’s always wanted.”

  With Josie’s words ringing in her ears, Agnes fixed a smile in place and reached for the salad. She walked into the side dining room and set the bowl of mixed greens on the buffet table. Hannah, bless her heart, brought in pitchers of lemonade. Josie followed with a platter of chicken salad croissants and a glass pedestal bowl of cut fresh fruit.

  Nancy, the hostess of the luncheon, arrived. While Josie spoke to her about the food, Agnes retreated to the kitchen.

  Hannah poked her head inside the kitchen door. “Mr. Higby’s looking for you.”

  “Clarence? My landlord?”

  She nodded, then held the door open wide enough for Agnes to see the burly man drumming his fingers on the counter by the register.

  Agnes followed Hannah into the main dining room. “Hey, Clarence.”

  Clarence Higby ran a finger between the collar of his flannel shirt and his doughy neck. He gripped a white envelope in his other hand. “Agnes, do you have a moment?”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  Clarence always reminded her of Papa Bear from Goldilocks—brawny with whiskered jowls…and the red suspenders he wore with his cuffed jeans.

  “I planned to come by later this afternoon, but when Eliza mentioned her ladies’ thing was here, I wanted you to hear this from me and not overheard from a bunch of hens.”

  Agnes didn’t like the direction this conversation was going.

  He thrust the envelope at her.

  She took it, noticed her name scrawled on the front, then looked at him. “What’s this?”

  “The letter says it so much better. Eliza typed it. She’s the one who’s good with words.” He heaved a sigh, then scraped his sausage fingers through his thinning salt-and-pepper hair. “Eliza and me…well, we’ve decided to move to Arizona.”

  “Arizona? You’ve lived in Shelby Lake your entire life.”

  “Our daughter Jocelyn is pregnant.” Clarence beamed like a proud grandpa-to-be. “After she lost the first two, she and Aaron wanted to wait until she was out of the danger zone to announce this pregnancy.”

  She forced her lips into a smile, hoping to project joy she didn’t feel. “Well, that’s fantastic. When’s the baby due?”

  “November—around Thanksgiving.”

  “Truly something to be thankful for.”

  “Eliza and I don’t want our grandchild to grow up without seeing us but a few times a year, so we’ve decided to move to Arizona before the baby’s born. The air is better for Eliza’s arthritis, too. You know how these damp seasons make her ache so.”

  “But…”

  Of course she understood they wanted to be with their family, but what about her apartment?

  As if reading her thoughts, Clarence laid a beefy hand on her shoulder. “We sold the building. Yesterday. That’s what I wanted you to hear from me.”

  His news pushed her stomach into a free fall to her toes. “I didn’t even know it was for sale. How long do I have to look for a new place?”

  “Thirty days.”

  Air whooshed out of her lungs as if someone had stepped on her ribs. She slumped against the counter, crushing the envelope in her fist.

  Thirty days?

  Where was she going to find an affordable place in such a short time?

  He mentioned selling her apartment building, but what about their cottage?

  “Are you planning to rent out your cottage?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. We’re listing it with Seaver Realty on Monday.”

  She loved the lakefront peach-colored cottage with its white trim and wide front porch. Flower beds skirted the perimeter of the house, and a large backyard meant for barbecues and kickball games overlooked the lake. A white picket fence hemmed it all in.

  The kind of place she always dreamed about, complete with rocking chairs on the front porch so she could grow old with someone who found her worth loving.

  An image of Ian with silver hair flashed through her mind.

  Refusing to give up on owning a place to call home, Agnes continued to put away money. Someday the right house would be available. For now, she’d keep saving her pennies. Unless…

  No, that was crazy thinking.

  She could barely make her rent each month, thanks to paying off her ex’s gambling debts. The cottage was going to be way out of her price range.

  But Ian’s request to help with Agape House came to mind.

  If she could push to sell her restored furniture, then maybe, just maybe, she could manage a down payment and get a loan for the mortgage.

  Heart hammering against her ribs, she turned to her landlord and blurted, “Clarence, would you and Eliza consider selling the cottage to me?”

  He scrubbed a hand over his whiskers. “Now, there’s an idea. You’ve been a great tenant. Let me talk it over with her this afternoon. I’ll give you a call this evening.”

  “Sure, that’s fine. I won’t be home for a bit anyway.”

  After Clarence left, Agnes checked on the ladies, then hurried to the kitchen. Pulling her cell phone from her pocket, she stared at the screen saver of her and Ian as teenagers, grinning as they hoisted the Golden Paddle Award in the air.

  Good times.

  They made a great team. In more ways than one.

  Could she do this? Could her heart handle the risk?

  No going back if she said yes.

  If she wanted to put the past behind her to face a new future, she had to take the first step. And if she wanted to buy the cottage, she needed the extra income to help with the down payment.

  Her thumb hovered over the two on her speed dial. She pressed it and held her breath until Ian’s deep voice answered. She released her breath. “Hey, it’s me. I’ll do it.”

  No going back now.

  Now she needed to find the courage to put the past to rest.

  Chapter Two

  When she walked out that door over five years ago, Agnes never thought she’d cross the threshold again.

  But here she was.

  The chipped gray paint and sagging black shutters of the house on the corner lot held nothing but echoes of angry voices and empty promises.

  A sold placard nested on top of the sun-bleached for sale sign swinging in the wind, the rusting chain creaking with each movement.

  If she focused on the physical attributes of the house, then maybe she could
ignore memories that threatened to resurface simply by walking through the door.

  “I can’t believe you talked me into coming here today. I haven’t even changed from work.” Agnes marched up the sidewalk behind Ian, her legs fighting not to turn and run with each step closer to the door.

  “No time like the present.” Glancing over his shoulder, he flashed a smile that always made her insides twirl.

  Dressed in faded jeans with a threadbare hole in the thigh, a gray T-shirt advertising James & Son Insurance and leather deck shoes that had seen better days, Ian inserted the key and unlocked the door, but didn’t push it open. Keeping one hand clenched on the doorknob, he dragged his fingers through his hair, tousling his sandy-brown curls in need of a cut.

  His forget-me-not-blue eyes pleaded with her. “Listen, Red, if you’re not ready, then Mom and I will find someone else to help.”

  She tightened her hand around her purse strap, praying this morning’s breakfast of tea and toast didn’t cause a revolt.

  Why did it have to be this house?

  A gentle breeze stirred the curls of her ponytail, brushing them against her jaw. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the warming rays of sunshine.

  “Ready?”

  She looked at him, pulling energy from the compassion warming his eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Ian opened the door and stepped back, ushering her to step inside.

  Agnes stepped on the black welcome mat covering the stoop and tried not to scoff at the irony. She hadn’t felt welcome here in a long time. Steeling her spine, she strode inside and sucked in a breath.

  A musty smell tinged with the faint odor of stale cigarette smoke tangled with the fresh air coming in through the front door. Pushing her white sunglasses on top of her head, she waited a moment for her eyes to adjust. “How long has this place been empty?”

  “I think Alec said a year or so. Cliff Miller died last spring, and the family’s been trying to sell it since then.”

  Flat beige walls pocked with nail holes added an air of despair to the barren room. Water stains marked the yellowed ceiling. A ratty calico rug covered a large portion of the parched wooden floor. A wide archway led into a smaller room.