Ruth Logan - Loving the Lawman

“It looks fine,” she told him. “Simple and clean-cut. The furnishings are great. Having them here makes my life a whole lot easier right now. Starting a new business in a new town is work enough. Hauling tons of furniture five hours cross state didn’t make my short list.” She set a small, dark floral bag on the countertop. “The pictures showed a first-floor bedroom and a bath, right?”

“Right here.” He took her into a well-lit room off the living area, and her smile rewarded him when she spotted the lake view. “You like this.”

“My grandmother will love it,” she told him. She pointed east. “I have her enjoying coffee at Tina Marie’s Café. It was a long ride down and I’m afraid I tired her out.” She stepped to the left, opened a door with an unadorned left hand and made a little face. “The bathroom is great, but may I ask one more thing of you?”

As pretty as you are? Ask away, sweetheart.

Reason reined in his teasing reply. He invited her question with a simple raised brow instead. Her smile lit her face in anticipation, brightening those dark, round eyes, and making the gold tone of her skin shine. But hitting on her probably wouldn’t be the smartest move in the book because this was a business arrangement. Doing anything to make it go foul in a small, tight town would be stupid beyond belief, so he shoved the temptation to flirt aside.

“Could we install a bar in the shower? Is that too much work? Grandma gets around great, but I’m afraid she might slip if she doesn’t have something to hold on to.”

“Not a problem,” Seth assured her. “My father owns the hardware store on Main Street. I can get a support bar in place by Monday.”

“That would be wonderful, Seth.” She moved back toward the living space. “Can we see the upstairs?”

“Sure.” He let her precede him up the stairs, and her squeal of delight when she spotted the second floor made him smile. She turned in time to see the grin and made a face again.

“I’m sorry, I sound like a schoolgirl when I do that. It’s utterly ridiculous. But this is so pretty up here.”

Seth considered the two small bedrooms and the open lofted area overlooking the lake on one side and the living room and kitchen below. “It’s loud.”

She frowned.

“When there are people below, it’s loud up here,” he explained. “Terrible for sleeping.”

“Ah.” An understanding look said she was starting to get the picture. “You used to live here.”

“Before I bought my house, yes. It was a great investment. My grandmother’s family owned this building, so I bought it and fixed it up when I was fresh out of college.”

“And your buddies would come to stay.”

He nodded, then grinned, following her drift. “You’re thinking that Grandma might not be as loud and intrusive as a couple of Campbell boys and their partying friends.”

“Exactly. I don’t think Grandma’s knitting will keep me up, but thanks for the warning.”

* * *

He laughed, and Gianna’s heart went soft on the spot. A big laugh, hearty and full. The kind of laugh that saw lots of practice. She’d known that kind of laugh once. The sound of it called to her now, but she wasn’t here for romance....

Not by a long shot.

Although, Gram thought it was time for her to move on with her life, and had spent over five hours of driving time reminding her that when God closes a door, He always opens a window.

Gianna knew that, hence the complete change in her life. Decisions she’d made before her mother and aunt left to spend the cold, long months of an upstate winter in Florida. By the time they came back north...

She shoved that thought aside and smiled up at Seth. “I’ll have the moving van pull around to the apartment door and unload my things. You have keys for me?”

“Right here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two sets. “I keep a master set for myself, so if you ever lock yourself out, I’m just across the street on Overlook Drive.” He pointed through the window. “The white house with the porch on the double lot.”

“A perfect family home.” She smiled at the view and could just imagine a crew of kids racing around the wide, sloped front yard playing tag. Climbing the trees that were to the left.

Seth’s smile disappeared. His shoulders looked suddenly heavy, and she had the oddest urge to wrap her arms around the big guy and give him a hug. But with her behavior labeled strange if not crazy these past few years, she curbed the impulse. Life had a way of messing people over. She knew that. Lived it. But right here, right now, was the new beginning she’d grabbed hold of a few months back. Months of praying, planning and implementation would come to fruition in Kirkwood, New York, overlooking the lake of the same name. Here she would embrace the life taken from her. The peace and hope of a new day dawning. She’d have the winter to settle in, and by the time the busy season rolled around after an early-April Easter, she’d be facing a new reality.

Would her mother understand? Would she embrace and forgive, or rage on in a mix of Italian and English and then cook pasta for the multitudes of Bianchis?

Time would tell.

Gianna followed Seth down the open stairs. He turned at the door. “Do you have help to unload?”

“I do.” She pointed to the road, where a yellow moving van had pulled up. “My cousin and brother are my slaves for the moment. I promised them food to help me. They’re Italian men so it really doesn’t take much more than that.”

“That works well on us Scottish guys, too,” Seth admitted with a grin. She absolutely, positively refused to label his smile endearing or sweet. A smile was just a smile. Right?

One look up at him told her how wrong she was. Time to change the direction of her gaze. She turned and swung open the door to the small side porch. “The fact that I’m taking Gram off their hands sweetened the deal. Italian women are bossy by nature—something that doesn’t appear to wane with age.”

Seth laughed, understanding, while Gianna looked around the quiet, snow-filled, lakeside town. “She’s going to love it here. I could see that the minute we rolled into town. For Grandma, this is like coming home.”

Seth nodded agreement. “My grandma loved living in Kirkwood. It was her place, her town. Her history, she called it. Will your grandmother miss your old place?”

Gianna shook her head. “Not if there’s a sewing machine handy. I get my affection for old things from her. She taught me to sew when I was barely old enough to thread a needle, and I loved it. So this venture into my own brick-and-mortar business is a big step for both of us, but I’m pretty sure she’ll be content. I know I will.”

“Well, good.” He shoved his hands into his pockets as two dark-haired young men headed their way. “You guys need help?”

The taller one eyed the freshly shoveled driveway and shook his head. “I think we can back her up right here and unload to this porch. That way we can keep the snow and wet out of the house.”

“I agree.” The shorter man stuck out a hand to Seth. “I’m Mauro, Gianna’s cousin.”

Seth shook Mauro’s hand and turned toward the taller man. “That makes you the brother.”

“Joe Rinaldi. Nice to meet you. You’re the landlord?”

“Seth Campbell. I live over there.” Seth indicated his house with a general wave across the street. “If there’s anything your sister or grandmother need, I’m nearby.”

“Good to hear since her entire family and support network will be over five hours away, in good driving conditions. With the exception of my seventysomething grandmother.” Joe’s tone scolded, but Gianna knew he meant well. Protecting her had become the order of the day after she had lost Michael.