Her father climbed down from the truck and looked around as if seeing the town for the first time. His last visit had been three years earlier, when he’d come to move his father to Savannah. The trip had been quick and made in the middle of winter. Lindsay wondered just how much he’d noticed.
Hands on his hips, he stood there for a long moment. When their eyes met, Lindsay saw his doubts and worries, and she tried to reassure him with a smile. She knew what she was doing. He needn’t worry about her.
Lindsay attached the leashes to Mutt and Jeff before she opened the car door. She, too, studied the town that was to be her home for the next year. It did look bleak and sad. Ever the optimist, she’d convinced herself it wasn’t as shabby as she remembered. But it was. Worse, even. Still, she didn’t let that dissuade her.
“Lindsay, look!” her mother said, pointing to a banner strung between Hansen’s Grocery and Knight’s Pharmacy.
Someone had taken an old white sheet and painted WELCOME, MISS SNYDER in bright red paint across it.
This simple greeting completely changed the grim reality of Buffalo Valley.
“Lindsay.” Hassie stepped out of the pharmacy and threw open her arms. “Welcome back.”
After hugging the older woman, Lindsay introduced her parents. “You remember my dad, don’t you? This is Brian and my mother, Kathleen.”
“Brian, of course. Oh my, you do look good. Come in, come in. The whole town’s been waiting for you. You made good time.” Chattering happily, Hassie ushered them inside.
Lindsay and her parents had just sat down at the soda fountain when others started to arrive. Jacob Hansen was the first. He came in from the grocery store across the street.
“We got your cupboards stocked with a few of the necessities,” he told Lindsay.
“My cupboards?”
“At the house,” he explained. “That’s our way of thanking you.”
“Oh … thank you.” Lindsay hadn’t expected anyone to do that.
“It wasn’t only me and Marta,” Jacob was quick to tell her. “We had a pounding last Monday night. Practically everyone in town contributed something.”
Lindsay had never heard of such a thing and turned to her mother, who explained, “Everyone brings a pound of something to stock the kitchen.”
“How thoughtful!”
“The high-school kids repainted the inside of the house,” Hassie told her. “Did a good job, too.”
“Your grandmother had the wallpaper stripped off years ago,” her mother said. “Most homes this age were wallpapered, but your grandmother Gina liked a more modern look.”
“Joshua McKenna contributed the paint,” the grocer leaned forward to say. “You remember Joshua, don’t you? He’s the president of the town council.”
“But the kids picked out the color.” A tall, rather attractive brunette approached her and held out her hand. “I’m Sarah Stern, Joshua’s daughter, and my Calla’s going to be one of your students.”
“Hi, I’m Lindsay.” More and more people filled the pharmacy, and she raised her voice. “Like I told Hassie when I phoned to ask about the job, I’ve never taught school before and I’m going to need a lot of help.”
“You got it,” Buffalo Bob shouted, giving her a thumbs-up sign. “We got all-you-can-eat spaghetti tonight, and Lindsay and her folks eat for free.”
A cheer went up, and Lindsay exchanged smiles with her parents, although she couldn’t help noting the hesitation in her mother’s eyes when she looked at the restaurant owner.
“You need help unloading that trailer?” Lindsay’s gaze fell on a man wearing a uniform shirt advertising a brandname gasoline. He stepped forward and offered his hand. “Dennis Urlacher,” he said. “From this welcome, you can guess we’re pleased to see you.”
Lindsay laughed at his comment. “Is one of your children going to be in my class, too?”
He shook his head. “I’m not married.”
Lindsay saw the way he looked at Sarah and guessed the two of them were probably an item. Romance, however, was the last thing on her mind. She’d come to recover from one unhappy episode and wasn’t planning to complicate her life with another.
“We’re serious about helping you unpack the trailer,” Joshua McKenna said, glancing around at his friends and neighbors. “Might as well say yes, seeing you’ve got this many volunteers.”
Lindsay would’ve preferred to relax for a few minutes before tackling that project, but her father answered for her. “We’d appreciate as much help as we can get,” he told them.
Her grandparents’ house was two blocks off Main, and Lindsay walked over, leading her dogs and half the town; her father drove the truck and U-Haul, while her mother brought Lindsay’s car.
“This is the closest thing we’ve had to a parade in years,” Hassie joked, planting herself beside Lindsay.
Rounding the corner, Lindsay saw her grandparents’ house. She gasped, hardly able to believe her eyes.
The yard had been cleaned and the flower boxes planted. A row of bright red geraniums brought a flash of color to the white house. The windows sparkled, and a wicker rocker had been placed on the front porch, with a large welcome mat in front of the door.
“It was one of your grandmother’s favorite spots,” Hassie whispered, sounding almost emotional.
“This is too much,” she protested.
“We wanted you to know we appreciate what you’re doing,” Joshua McKenna said as he passed her, carrying the first load from the trailer.
“The fence has been repaired, too,” Lindsay said in wonder. “And it’s painted and everything …”
“We didn’t want your dogs to get lost,” Hassie said. “You can thank Gage Sinclair for that.”
Gage was someone Lindsay hadn’t forgotten. They’d met during those few moments when he’d come into the pharmacy with his mother. Lindsay didn’t think she’d ever seen such depth and character in a man’s face. He was in his thirties, she’d guess, but the years couldn’t have been easy ones. The tracery of fine lines at the corners of his eyes told her that. His hair, a coffee-brown, had been in need of a cut. He was deeply tanned, but this wasn’t the kind of tan one got from sitting under a lamp. His tan had been baked on by long hours in the sun. It was his eyes, though, that had struck her most. They were the most incredible blue, verging on gray.
Before they’d had a chance to exchange more than a word or two, he’d made his excuses and left. Later, Hassie had told her Gage had a younger brother who’d be attending the high school. In those few moments, Lindsay had keenly felt his appraisal, but whatever he thought he’d kept to himself.
“If you like what we did to the outside, just wait till you see the interior.” Her face bright with joy, Hassie grabbed Lindsay’s hand and led her into the house.
Inside, Lindsay paused. The place was virtually unrecognizable. The living room was a bright white and when she moved into the kitchen she found it to be a cheery shade of lemon-yellow. Her bathroom was a robin’s egg-blue, and her bedroom a pale lavender.
What hadn’t been repainted had been scrubbed until it glistened. The floors shone with wax, and the entire place smelled fresh and clean.
“I can’t believe anyone would do all this.” Lindsay had wondered