Belinda
by Colleen Coble
“Coble’s books have it all, romance, sass, suspense, action. I’m content to read a book that has any one of those but to find an author like Coble who does all four so well is my definition of bliss.”
Mary Connealy, author of Doctor in Petticoats
Copyright © 2012 by Colleen Coble
First published in the United States by Barbour 2000
BELINDA is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidences are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. The Publisher does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
All Rights Reserved.
Cover Design by Kim Killion
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DEAR READER,
We restored the old Victorian house we live in, and our favorite way to spend a Saturday is browsing through a salvage yard. Oh, the old fireplaces and the chandeliers! Some of my favorite house elements appear in Belinda’s salvage yard. I’m especially fond of a heroine who is self-sacrificing like Belinda. I think you will love her can-do attitude as she finds a fresh chance at love. Drop me a line at
[email protected] and let me know what you think!
Love, Colleen
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 1
Rick Storm parked his red Jeep Cherokee in front of the huge Victorian structure and looked up at the gargoyles leering down at him from the roof-top. His foreman, Dan, who also happened to be his best friend, had told him he had to see this place to believe it, but this building was truly incredible. Once a county home for indigent residents, its crumbling brick face looked down in aging glory on the town of Wabash, Indiana. A weathered sign, Timeless Treasures Architectural Salvage, looked as though it might fall off in a stiff breeze.
He got out and tipped his Stetson to a perspiring woman whose bulk was seriously straining a pair of Lee jeans. He ignored the woman’s curious stare; he’d gotten used to the disbelief at his cowboy garb a long time ago. He hailed from Arizona cowboy country and was proud of it. Eager to see the inside of this place, he headed toward the door, the peeling paint crunching under the heels of his cowboy boots. Just as he reached the top step, the rickety screen door flew open, and a little girl with curly dark hair rode her tricycle out onto the porch. She didn’t look up but pedaled furiously and drove straight into his leg. He yelped and tried to dance out of the way, then realized she was in danger of riding right off the porch. He let go of his throbbing shin and grabbed her just as the tricycle dove down the steps.
Rather than wiggling or crying out, she just looked up at him with trusting blue eyes. “I’m Andi. Are you the Lone Ranger?”
He grinned at the question. “I don’t think so. I don’t have a mask.”
She regarded him thoughtfully, then nodded. “What’s your name?”
Where are the child’s parents? Don’t they watch her? He frowned disapprovingly, then smiled at the little girl. “My name is Rick. Are you just learning to ride your tricycle?”
Andi nodded. “Uncle Micky got it for me for my birthday.” Straightening her shoulders, she puffed out her chest importantly. “I’m three now.” She waited a moment to give him time to be suitably impressed. “Mommy and me sell old stuff.”
She was adorable. Rick was ready to adopt her on the spot. “You do?” He set her on the porch. “Why don’t you show me?”
He took her hand, and she led the way inside. He gasped when he entered the first room. Every window had a stained-glass window hung over it, and the light through the colored glass cast dappled patterns of blue, gold, and green over the other contents of the room. More windows hung on every available wall space. Several wonderful old fireplaces lined one wall. The one in the corner looked like just what he had in mind, and he knelt to inspect it. It was in excellent shape with pillars and mantle of quartersawn oak. The price wasn’t bad, either. This architectural salvage place just might be as good as he’d been told. Through the doorway he glimpsed light fixtures and beveled glass windows.
“Do you want to see Mommy?” Andi asked.
“Either her or your daddy.”
“My daddy died.”
Rick’s heart clenched at her matter-of-fact tone. He knew what it was like to lose a beloved parent. He’d nursed his mother through a six-year battle with cancer until she’d died a year ago.
Poor little mite. He couldn’t imagine where this child’s mother was; such a small girl shouldn’t be wandering around this huge mausoleum alone. She could get lost or worse. Andi took his hand again and led him through a labyrinth of rooms and corridors. They passed room after room of all kinds of antique plumbing fixtures, hardware, trim, windows, and doors. He wanted to stop and examine this virtual treasure trove and had to force himself to continue walking. He was beginning to think they’d taken a wrong turn when Andi stopped at a room with an ornate walnut door.
“This is where Mommy works.”
He could hear music playing in the background and raised his eyebrows in surprise. He thought only cowboys and cowboy wanna-bes listened to Don Edwards croon his songs about the Old West. He grinned. No wonder Andi thought he was the Lone Ranger. Curious to see who this woman was who listened to his kind of music, he cautiously pushed open the door.
A young woman sat in an old wooden desk chair, the kind that swivelled and rocked. Her head was pillowed on her arms on top of a ledger book. She was snoring softly.
Rick put his finger to his lips and, taking Andi’s hand, began to back out of the room. Andi’s mother muttered and stirred. Her eyes flew open, and Rick found himself staring into the most incredible blue-green eyes he’d ever seen. Thickly lashed, they reminded him of the water in the lagoon in Hawaii where he’d gone snorkeling last summer. Almost aqua. Soft auburn hair with a face too round to be called beautiful by the world’s standards, a straight nose with a tiny hump in the middle, and a lovely smile completed the picture.
That lovely smile widened in apology, and the gentleness in it went straight to his heart. She sat up groggily and put a hand to her tousled hair. She wore rumpled jeans with a wrinkled cotton shirt. Her long hair was such a riot of curls, her face was almost lost in the mass, and she wore no makeup. She evidently wasn’t one to fuss with her appearance, but her eyes made it unnecessary. Her gaze flew to the pallet of blankets against the far wall.
“Andi!”
“She’s right here,” Rick reassured her.
Andi peeked from behind his legs at her mother. “His name is Rick, and he says he isn’t the Lone Ranger.”
The statement was made with a trace of doubt in her voice. “I was good, Mommy. I helped you. Rick wants to buy Mrs. Grimmley’s fireplace.” She looked up at Rick with a dimpled smile.
Evidently nothing much got by those blue eyes. He grinned down at her. “If Mrs. Grimmley’s fireplace is the one with the quartersawn pillars, Andi is right.”
The young woman scrambled to her feet and held out her hand. “I’m Belinda Mitchell, owner of this decaying heap. This little scamp was supposed to be taking a nap, and I must have drifted off myself.”
“Rick Storm.” He shook her hand.
She had a firm handshake and gazed directly into his eyes. He liked that. She only reached his chest, and he estimated her height at about five foot two inches. Andi evidently took after her; she was quite a bit smaller than his three-year-old niece.
Her incredible eyes widened. “You’re the new builder everyone is talking about. The one who uses so many antique fixtures in his houses. I read an article about your homes in the Fort Wayne Journal Gazette. The article said you had planned to move to Wabash, and I hoped you’d find my place.”
A warm glow started in his stomach. “It’s nice to know my work is appreciated. Finding your place seems to be a lucky break for me. It has a much better selection than most, but I didn’t get a chance to really look since Andi was set on dragging me off to find you. Would you mind showing me around?”
She nodded eagerly. The tour lasted nearly an hour. Her selection was huge, and Rick was impressed. He knew he’d be back here often. He bought the fireplace, a spandrel, and two stained-glass windows. He noticed Belinda’s eyes grow brighter with every purchase. Taking a fresh look at Belinda and her daughter, he noticed the worn condition of Belinda’s jeans and the holes in Andi’s sneakers. Calling himself a sucker, he recklessly added a huge stack of woodwork to his order. He’d do anything to see her smile again.
Belinda totaled the order on a sales pad and handed him his copy. Rick was surprised at the total. He had a head for numbers and had already figured what the cost would be. “Did you forget to add something? The spandrel was fifteen hundred dollars all by itself.”
“I dropped the price a little since you bought so much,” she said. She rested her chin on the tips of her first two fingers in a way he thought utterly charming.
He dragged his gaze from her animated face. “You don’t need to do that. Your prices are very reasonable.” He fished out his checkbook and, adding in an extra five hundred dollars, wrote out a check for four thousand dollars.
Her eyes widened when he handed it to her. He saw her swallow, and tears shimmered on her lashes. She quickly turned away to begin to gather his things. Her small hands were nicked with cuts and abrasions, and he realized she must do some of the demolition needed to acquire these treasures by herself. How long had she been widowed? Andi hadn’t said. It was none of his business, of course, but he longed to know what lurked behind those beautiful eyes.
“Don’t worry about that stuff now,” he told her. “If you’ll have it ready by tomorrow morning, I’ll send my foreman, Dan Johnson, after it.” For some reason, he was reluctant to leave. Something about her little-girl-lost quality tugged at his heartstrings. He searched for something to say to continue the conversation. “Uh, do you have any ideas about churches around here? I just moved to town three days ago and haven’t found one yet.”
Belinda’s face grew even more animated. “My church is wonderful! Actually, Sunday is Friend Day, and I’d be pleased to have you come as a friend for me and Andi. It’s New Life out on County Road 300 North. I teach Sunday school for three- and four-year-olds, but you could sit with us during the worship service.”
“I’d love to come. What time shall I pick you up?”
She gave a self-conscious laugh and twirled a curl around a finger. “You don’t want to drive clear out here. I can meet you there.”
He shook his head firmly. “I want to pick you up. Unless there’s some other man who would object?” He cocked an eyebrow questioningly.
Her cheeks grew pink, and she shook her head. “If you are sure you don’t mind, Andi and I will be ready at nine.”
“And to say thank you for taking pity on a lonely bachelor, we’ll eat lunch afterward. Pizza okay?”
She nodded uncertainly. “Andi loves pizza. We don’t get it very often, though.”
Probably because they can’t afford it, Rick surmised. “It’s a date!”
Immediately Belinda looked alarmed. “A–a date?” she stammered. “Andi will like that. You’ve made quite a hit with her.”
Rick was smiling as he drove away. The move to Wabash just might prove very interesting.
Belinda and Andi watched Rick drive away in his flashy red Jeep Cherokee.
Andi looked up at her mother and squeezed her hand. “I like him, Mommy. He’s nice.”
Belinda ruffled her daughter’s hair. “Yes, very nice,” she said. “And isn’t God good!” She’d fallen asleep crying over the bills when that cowboy-type showed up and bought all that merchandise. The wonder of it made her want to clap her hands for joy. And as an added bonus, he was coming to church with her! They’d been having a special outreach summer, and she hadn’t found a visitor to bring with her since her brother came for a visit. She wondered if Rick would wear his western getup to church. It seemed odd to see someone decked out in western clothes when he wasn’t going to a country-western concert or something like that. He looked good in those clothes, though. Stocky and broad-shouldered with gray eyes that tilted up at the corners and looked right through a person. She assumed his hair was as black as his eyebrows.
She took Andi’s hand, and they walked back to the office. The phone was ringing when she opened the door. Tripping over Andi’s doll in her hurry, she was breathless when she picked up the phone.
“Belinda, it’s me.” Dani’s familiar voice was a welcome surprise. “Are you busy?”
“Where have you been?” Belinda asked. “I’ve been trying to call you for three days, and I was beginning to worry.”
Dani gave a chuckle. “You worry too much. Have you heard anything from Collette or Amanda?”
“I got a letter from Collette yesterday. She’s heading for the States, you know. Poor thing, California is so different from Africa. I wish I had the money to fly out to California to meet her when she comes and help her get settled.” The four of them had been friends since they were at summer camp ten years before. They came from such different walks of life, but no friends could be closer.
“The little mother.” Dani’s voice was indulgent. “What would we do without you? What’s up? Any interesting men in your life yet?”
Belinda sighed. “You know there will never be another man in my life. I’m still in love with Andrew.”
“You mean, you’re still filled with guilt over his death,” Dani corrected. “It wasn’t your fault, Belinda, and it’s been almost four years!”
Belinda sighed again, a heavy sound of exasperation. Dani had been getting more and more insistent every time they talked. She didn’t seem to understand how she still heard the sound of screaming tires and Andrew’s shout of alarm. “If we just hadn’t been arguing.”
“He needed to grow up and get a regular job,” Dani said firmly. “He was way too set on that business. It was time to move on.”
Belinda was silent in the face of the familiar argument. They’d gone over this time after time. If only they hadn’t argued; if only she’d had a chance to tell him they were going to be parents. But all the what-ifs hadn’t changed anything. Andrew had lost control of the car on a patch of ice. She’d awakened to icy rain falling on her face and the surreal sound of the blaring horn. She’d had her seat belt on, but her macho husband had never worn one. He’d gone through the windshield and died instantly. She decided to change the subject.
“A new builder is in town. He bought four thousand dollars worth of stuff today.”
Dani whistled softly. “That will keep the wolves from the door a little longer, although I’m not sure that’s a good thing in the long run. That place holds too many memories. I think the only reason you’re determined to make a go of it is because Andrew loved it. Is this builder married?”
Belinda grinned wryly. Dani never gave up, but she loved her in spite of her meddling. “No, and he’s coming to church with me, and we’re having pizza after.” She held the phone away from her ear at the excited buzz on the other end. When the noise died down, she cautiously put it back to her ear. “But don’t get any ideas. He’s much too good-looking to be interested in someone like me,
and I’m not in the market either. He’s just looking for a friend.”
Dani gave an exasperated sigh. “You’d be lovely if you’d just take a little care. Play up those eyes and that wild mass of hair. You’d have men tripping over one another to get to know you.”
“I don’t want a man. Andi and I are perfectly happy.”
“Where is my darling goddaughter, anyway?”
“I’ll let you talk to her.” While Andi talked with Dani, Belinda picked up the ledger book and looked at her accounts. That four thousand dollars was really going to help. She silently sent another prayer of thanks heavenward.
The next day she paid bills and was thrilled to discover there was five hundred dollars left. She could stock up on a few more groceries and maybe buy Andi a pair of sneakers if she could find a good sale. Business was brisk on Saturday, and she went to bed feeling incredibly blessed.
Sunday morning she dressed in a denim skirt and a bright yellow T-shirt. She ran a brush through her thick hair, then slipped on a headband. There was nothing much to do with hair as curly as hers anyway. Sliding on a pair of sandals, she hurried to get Andi ready, but she was too late. Her daughter had tried to dress herself and had put on a green-and-blue plaid skirt with a red blouse. Belinda hid a smile; her daughter had inherited her mother’s sense of style, poor thing.
“I think another blouse might be better with that skirt, sweetie,” she said, going to the closet. “How about this navy one?”
Andi was amenable to the change, and they both ate a bowl of cereal and were ready for Rick by 8:30. Belinda picked up the few rooms they called home while she waited. Sometimes she wished they had a neat little apartment with sleek kitchen cabinets, tons of closets, and wall-to-wall carpet instead of this apartment of four rooms carved from one wing of the building. These rooms with their wavy plaster walls, wide plank floors, and old painted wooden cabinets were home, though, and the old place had its charms. The wide woodwork was lovely, and the ceilings were high and airy. The place could be nice if she ever got far enough ahead to fix a few things and hang some new wallpaper. She gave a tiny sigh. A girl could dream.