Her Chance at Family
Author
Angie Dicken
Reads
15,3K
Chapters
24
Chapter One
Elisa Hartley pulled into the shadowy driveway, admiring the orange sky bleeding through the bare branches of the elm trees lining her back fence. Through her rearview mirror, she spied the two little girls snoozing in her back seat.
This was it. She was doing this. How could the past few months of double-whammy grief bring her back to this house she couldn’t wait to get rid of? She ran her hand through her hair and pressed her head back against her seat. A humorless, breathy laugh escaped her throat.
Ironic.
This old Victorian had been purchased to share with someone she loved. Yet she’d never imagined the reality that, instead of her now ex-fiancé, Chad, two small children would live with her, both in desperate need of the security of this old house, and both had captured her heart in a different way.
If only that truth was a salve to her wound. She was trying to see it as such.
But this was a totally different frame of heart for Elisa. Especially since her experience with children had been limited to volunteering at the church nursery once a quarter. Alongside her parents, Elisa had spent every minute this January caring for these two little girls. Lottie and Ava had endured more loss in their young lives than most people endured in their entire lifetimes.
Elisa was exhausted...in more ways than one. Of course, the sleepless nights and roller-coaster days were to be expected from the girls after they’d lost their parents in a car accident on New Year’s Eve. The soft breathing of the four-and two-year-old for most of their two-hour drive from Elisa’s parents’ home in Grangewood was a sweet reprieve from the nightmare that had been the past few weeks.
A movement caught Elisa’s eye. She leaned forward, wondering if her own tired mind was playing tricks on her. A loud squeal grated her ears, and she whipped around to check if Lottie and Ava would wake after such an unnerving noise. Still sound asleep. The wind must have blown open the rusty wrought iron gate leading to the backyard.
Leaving the car on, she quietly opened her door and stepped onto the pavement. Wait a minute. While the lawn was packed with a typical northeastern Iowa helping of snow, the driveway nearly sparkled. There wasn’t a speck of snow to be seen. Maybe a neighbor had been kind enough to clear the concrete for her?
But she didn’t know any of her new neighbors. She’d spent a few weeks on-site overseeing the interior remodel of the Victorian home for her clients, the Griffins, back in the fall. Elisa had had no idea that they were going to put it on the market right before her project was finished—and she had not expected to spontaneously snatch up the house without consulting her fiancé...ex-fiancé. They’d dreamed of a house in a quiet community with a decent commute for each of them. Rapid Falls seemed perfect, and Elisa had thought the house would be a fun surprise for Chad.
The familiar ache seared her chest—one that usually meant anxiety before a phone call with a difficult client. But now the pressure was a painful reminder that all she’d once hoped for had come crashing down on her wedding day.
Elisa gently closed the car door, letting it rest on the car frame so it wouldn’t completely latch and disturb the girls. Her plan to get them out without too much fussing had not fully formed in her new-guardian brain. First, she’d take care of that gate—
“Hey, there.” A deep voice materialized into a tall figure from the shadowy fence line, sending Elisa’s entire frame into a rigid ready-to-flee mode as she reached for the handle of the car. “Didn’t want to startle you.”
Too bad, bud, you already did.
The man stepped into the fading wintry light. Twilight glinted off his wire-framed spectacles. His lips parted as if he were going to speak, but he didn’t. He just stared at her.
Elisa took a step back, balling her hands into fists by her side. “Can I help you?”
He pushed back the fur-lined hood of his winter coat. His sandy brown hair stuck up in a boyish mess, and a five-o’clock shadow dusted his strong jaw. “You’re the owner here?”
Did his voice just crack? Why did he appear so surprised?
“I am. And you are?”
His mouth remained open, as if whatever words were going to come out froze before they sounded. He then licked his lips quickly and said, “Oh, sorry. I am Sean Peters.” He hesitated, wiping his hand on the side of his coveralls but not extending it for a handshake. “The Griffins told me that you would get in touch about the backyard. They hired me.”
“Ah, you’re the landscape architect.” Relief coursed through Elisa’s shoulders. He wasn’t some creepy stranger hiding out on her property. “I’m Elisa Hartley. So, have you been waiting here all winter?” She teasingly smirked, then crossed her arms over her coat, mostly in an attempt not to shiver. Her car thermometer had read a whopping eight degrees when she pulled into Rapid Falls.
“Us landscape guys specialize in snow removal during these slow business months. I thought I’d clear your driveway for you.” He grinned, reaching out to tap the top of a snowblower hiding in the shadow of the garage.
“That’s nice of you. How did you know I was coming home?”
Sean stepped closer. “I didn’t.” His chuckle was warm like hot cocoa, doing the trick in this frigid tundra. “Been helping out most of the senior citizens around here. I noticed your fixer-upper dream house had been sitting dark and alone all of December and January. Better to stay on top of the rising snow inches.”
Elisa stiffened. Fixer-upper? Yes. But the dream was long gone. “Well, thank you, Sean. I better get the little ones inside before my car heater succumbs to this cold.”
“Little ones? I thought—” His teeth rested on his lips, and he dropped his gaze.
Elisa plastered on a grin, refusing to feel obligated to explain. Obviously, the Griffins had mentioned her soon-to-be newlywed status when they’d told Sean she would be in touch. They had no idea that her status changed from bride-to-be to being the sole guardian of small children.
“They are my nieces.” She walked backward to the car, lifting her hand in a wave. Then she quickly yanked the door open and situated herself behind it. “Thanks again.”
He nodded and pulled his hood back on. Quickly, he steered the snowblower down the driveway. Elisa lowered into her seat and watched him load it up into a pickup parked along the curb.
“Auntie, are we there yet?” Lottie’s sleepy voice cut through the tension in Elisa’s shoulders with its sugary sweetness.
“We are, Lottie.” She turned and patted the four-year-old’s knee. “Just have to pull into the garage.” She put the car in Drive and pressed the garage door opener.
In the back corner of the dank space of the garage, totes with Christmas decorations were stacked, untouched, without purpose now that the season was over. Everything would be thick with dust inside the house, and she feared it might take some time to heat the place up.
While Rapid Falls had been working to remove the blanket of ever-present snow over the past two months, Elisa had been shoveling through the remains of her obliterated heart. Not only had her wedding been an unmitigated disaster, but her estranged half brother and his wife—Lottie and Ava’s parents—were gone now.
The empty house, bitter winter cold and unfinished projects eerily resembled her life in recent months—unfulfilled and almost forgotten. Elisa had to hope that life in Rapid Falls would be a fresh start. She just needed to rediscover her confidence...if not for herself, then for Lottie and Ava.
The lump in Sean’s throat expanded like a snowball rolling down a hill as he climbed into his truck. He couldn’t believe that the woman Chad had jilted was the newest Rapid Falls resident. Elisa obviously hadn’t recognized Sean, and after witnessing her devastation on her wedding day, he wasn’t about to remind her who he was. He’d grown out a beard last fall, and the most they’d seen each other that day was through the rearview mirror of his dad’s Mustang. When Sean had received Chad’s group text to the college friends that he’d missed his already-delayed flight and taken it as fate, Sean had scrambled from his seat to tell the groomsmen before they began down the aisle. Instead of driving the newlyweds to the reception, Sean’s main task had been to drive the bride away from the church before her guests bombarded her with questions.
How could his old college friend Chad have turned out to be such a heartless guy? They’d lost touch since graduation when Chad had taken a marketing job that sent him all over the country. The first time they’d communicated since then was when Chad asked to use Dad’s Mustang for the wedding. And to think Sean had been excited that Chad and his new bride were considering Rapid Falls as a place for their first home. Chad had never told him that a house was bought already.
Something didn’t add up.
At least it seemed Elisa was moving forward. And from what the Griffins told him, her upgrades to the interior were outstanding.
The drive home was quick. Sean only lived three blocks away from the Victorian on Birch Street. As he avoided an exceptionally large icy patch near the end of his driveway, he couldn’t help but pray for the usual melt into spring to come quickly. That Victorian was going to be his chance to add a design department to the Peters Landscaping business. He laughed at himself. Who was he kidding? He was the design department. And the installation department. And the project manager. But Dad’s legacy would be a distant memory if Sean couldn’t amp up business in this iffy economy.
Sean had barely used his degree in landscape architecture in recent years. Instead, he’d worked alongside his father’s seasonal employees to aestheticize the Rapid Falls commercial district with landscape installation and maintain the yards of loyal customers. But now, in order to thrive, their scope would need to broaden from planting to planning.
If he could gain attention during the Northern Iowa Tour of Remodeled Homes with a restoration of the overgrown backyard at that old Victorian, he hoped to drum up larger projects—design-heavy projects. That was his true talent after all. He’d just tucked it away while assisting his father and helping raise his sister.
Sean stored the snowblower in the shed, then stomped up the deck stairs to the back door of their two-story Craftsman-style home, trying to knock off any remaining snow from his boots. As he unlaced and removed his boots, the bite of the single-digit night air on his damp socks had him hurry into the mudroom. The scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies warmed him almost instantly.
“Sean? Is that you?” Blythe’s voice was hitched.
“Of course.”
His sister still didn’t love being home alone. Even if she was a middle schooler now. Thirteen seemed like yesterday for Sean. Maybe because that was his age when Blythe was born. And two years later, he’d become a co-parent with his dad. Sean put his boots on the boot warmer, then stepped out of his lined coveralls and hung them on a hook.
Blythe sat on the bar stool at the kitchen counter with an open textbook and a notebook. “I wish the heater wouldn’t make so much noise. It freaks me out.” She kept her attention on her homework.
Sean squeezed her shoulder. “I’m always a phone call away—and about a two-second drive.” He walked over to a cooling rack of neat rows of golden cookies. “I see you managed your nerves in the very best way.”
“Yeah, and also procrastinating seventh grade math.”
Sean carefully grabbed a cookie, then headed to the other side of the counter, checking out her work upside down. “Hmm, do you need help?”
Blythe set her pencil down. “No, I get it. But I’d rather bake than crunch numbers.” She closed her book. “All done.”
“You know, if you want to come help with shoveling, you can. Might be better than being home alone so much.”
Blythe plastered a fake smile, braces showing but no hint of glee in her blue eyes. “Oh yippee, manual labor. I’d rather be scared.”
Sean chuckled and bit into the cookie, enjoying the melting chocolate and hint of cinnamon. Blythe’s personality had blossomed. Dad had pointed it out when Blythe invited a few girls over for her twelfth birthday. She was becoming a young lady. Someone who could joke on a level that was less about knock-knocks and cartoon characters, and more in the form of humorous remarks laced in an everyday conversation.
A twist in Sean’s gut made him set the cookie down. It wasn’t fair that Dad would miss out on his daughter’s journey to adulthood. The cancer had been sudden. Dad had been the one who’d provided stability and a chance for Blythe to grow up in a somewhat steady household. It had all fallen on Dad after their mom left them to fend for themselves.
Sean took a deep breath and tamped down the frustration of their situation. Blythe headed to the living room, turned on the TV and snuggled under an old quilt.
“Want to watch a show?” she asked. “I didn’t turn the TV on while you were gone, in case I wouldn’t be able to hear a scary sound.”
“Well, that doesn’t make sense.” Sean plopped down in the recliner and picked up his book from the side table.
Blythe turned toward him. “Yes, it does. What if it was bad enough that I needed to call you? Wanted to be prepared.”
“Ah, I see. So, what do you do when I am gone? Sit here with the phone positioned just right, waiting for something bad to happen?” He tossed a throw pillow at her.
“Hey!” She giggled. “I’m not quite that bad. But...just try to be home before dark next time.”
“Got it. I will. Sorry, I got carried away at the house on Birch. After I cleared the driveway, I walked around the backyard and tried to get a feel for the place.”
“Kinda hard with the snow. That place seems abandoned. Are you sure you’ll still get to work on it?”
“I better. I have pretty expensive flagstone piled up at the warehouse. Actually, the owner pulled up when I was leaving.” He refrained from sharing with Blythe that he was at the lady’s wedding. He hadn’t recognized Elisa at first. Gone were her curls and striking makeup from her wedding day. Her straight blond bangs swept across her forehead and were tucked beneath a knit winter hat. Only thick lashes, no eyeliner, accentuated the light brown hue of her eyes—first narrowed in question. But once Sean had introduced himself, Elisa’s expression softened, like a brightening sky after a storm. He could only imagine she did not want one more person bringing up her wedding day, and he wasn’t going to risk adding any weirdness to their professional relationship. “I had a chance to introduce myself.”
“Oh, that’s good.”
“I think I startled her.”
“You can’t go around scaring people, Sean. It’s not very nice.” She tossed the pillow back at him.
“Ha ha, sis. You really are safe here in Rapid Falls. You should know. You’ve been here all your life.”
“But do you watch TV at all? True crime shows or the news?” She pulled the blanket up to her chin. “Scary stuff happens all the time.”
Sean leaned over and flipped the channel from a real crime series to a baking show. “Maybe you shouldn’t watch that stuff. Keep up the baking, Blythe.” He opened his book, his mind far from the words on the page.
This small town and old house had been a constant in their lives. Neither of the Peters kids had lived outside of Rapid Falls, Iowa, except when Sean was at college in Ames. But despite the settled feeling of being home, they’d also gone through enough in their lives for the place to trigger a sense of loss and insecurity.
A sense of being alone and in the dark.
Sean understood her feelings. He recalled the loneliness and sense of abandonment when he was just Blythe’s age. And it had nothing to do with monsters or criminals. Just a mother who didn’t love them enough to stay.
