Mindy Obenhaus - Falling For The Hometown Hero

Mama sure knew how to dangle the carrot.

“I don’t get off work until six.”

“That’s all right. We typically don’t eat until six thirty or seven.”

“One burger with everything.” Kaleb blew through the door. “Along with some of the freshest French fries in Ouray.”

She caught a whiff of the enticing aroma as he walked past. If they tasted half as good as they smelled...

Her mother eased toward the door. “I’ll get out of your hair so you two can get back to work.”

Kaleb set the white paper bag on the counter and turned to face them. “Did Grace tell you we’re going to be doing some redecorating in here?” He gestured his hand about the office.

“She did not.” Mama paused, her hand on the doorknob, a smile at the corners of her mouth.

Evidently, now that he’d had time to think, Kaleb decided the suggestion had been a good one.

“Looks like we’ll be doing some painting and who knows what else to get the place in shape.”

“Oh, I’d love to help.” Having transformed many a bland military house into a warm and inviting home, Mama not only loved, but had lots of experience with decorating.

Working alongside her, though?

Slinking toward the desk and the tantalizing aromas, Grace spotted the local newspaper on the corner of the counter.

“That’d be great, Donna. Like my grandmother always said, many hands make light work.”

Try as she might, Grace couldn’t share Kaleb’s enthusiasm. Too many memories to be objective, she supposed.

“What’s Roger up to today?”

“He’s substitute teaching at the school.”

Talk of Roger had Grace wishing she were already on that cruise ship. She picked up the newspaper and thumbed through the pages. Maybe there was another job in Ouray that she might enjoy. One that didn’t involve working with her stepfather.

“Grace?”

“Hmm...?” She looked at Kaleb first, then her mother.

“I’ll see you for dinner, then?”

She closed the paper. Folded it. “Just as soon as I get off work.”

With her mother gone, Kaleb opened the bags and sorted out the food.

Grace accepted her burger. “Sorry my mother interrupted us like that. I’m sure she won’t make a habit of dropping in.”

“Don’t worry about it. After missing you last night, she was probably eager to see you. I understand.” He passed her a small bag of fries. Thin-cut, just the way she liked them. “Pull up a stool.” He pointed behind the desk.

While he unwrapped his burger and took a bite, she grabbed the basic wooden stool and sat down, her appetite waning.

“Something wrong with your burger?”

“No. Just thinking about this evening.”

Kaleb jerked his head up, a blob of mayo clinging to his bottom lip. “Problem?”

He grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth.

She picked up a fry, rolling it between her forefinger and thumb. “I just don’t know how I’m going to handle spending an entire evening with Roger.”

“Why? He’s a great guy.”

“So people keep telling me. But what kind of guy goes after a woman whose husband has been dead less than a year?”

Kaleb settled his sandwich on top of the flattened bag. “Did you know Roger lost his wife to cancer, too?”

“I knew he was married.” But beyond that...

“For thirty-five years.” Kaleb wiped his hands. “Everyone around here worried about him after Camille died. My mom said he looked like a dead man walking. Until he met your mother.”

Grace tossed the fry she’d been holding back into the bag. “Sometimes life really stinks.”

“Yep. The buffet line of life is notorious for throwing stuff on our plates that we don’t necessarily like.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean they’re not good for us, though. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right?”

Staring at her handsome boss, who seemed to have the world at his feet, she puffed out a disbelieving laugh. “What could you possibly know about it?”

He narrowed his gaze on her, as though contemplating his response. “Far more than you might think.” He rounded the counter then, his expression intense, and lifted the left leg of his cargo pants.

“What are you—” At the sight of his prosthetic leg, her words and her heart skidded to a halt. “Oh, my.” She continued to look at the metal-and-hard-plastic contraption that went all the way above his knee. “I—I never would have guessed.”

She looked at him now. “What—”

“IED. Cost me four of my buddies and my leg.” He let the pant leg drop. “So don’t go acting like you’re the only one who’s been handed a raw deal. Because, sweetheart, I do know a little something about it.”

Chapter Four

Grace would love nothing more than to go back to her campsite and lick her wounds. Next time, she needed to think twice before inviting someone else to her pity party.

In one swift, stealthy strike, her boss had put an end to her sulking. And yes, despite her strong desire to turn tail and run, Kaleb was still her boss. Despite their disagreements, she felt as though she could make a difference at Mountain View Tours.

Of course, that also meant she’d still be working with Roger, so she supposed she should put aside her preconceived notions and, at least, give the guy a chance.

Now here she stood in Mama and Roger’s cottage-style kitchen, feeling like a bit of a jerk. She hadn’t realized he’d lost his wife of thirty-five years. Probably because she never took the time to listen to anything her mother—or anyone else—had to say about him.

“What can I do to help, Mama?” She pushed up the long sleeves of her purple T-shirt and headed toward the farmhouse sink under the window to wash her hands.

“Why don’t you set the table while I finish with this salad.” Her mother rested the knife on the marble-topped island and wiped her hands on a dish towel before opening one of the white cupboards behind her.

“Silverware?”

“First drawer on the right.” Mama pointed with her elbow while pulling out a stack of plates. She set them on the counter. “We’ll eat in the dining room tonight.”

“Okay.” Eating utensils clasped in one hand, Grace reached for plain white plates with her other. “I think you gave me one too many.”

“No, I didn’t. The fourth one is for Kaleb. Roger thought it would be nice to invite him for dinner, too.”

Grace simply stood there, uncertain what to make of her mother’s sudden announcement. After all the head-butting she and Kaleb had done today.

“Oh, and place mats and napkins are in the drawer in the hutch.” Mama picked up her knife and continued slicing tomatoes. “Let’s go with the turquoise ones. Add a little color.”

Good thing Grace’s workday had ended on a positive note. Otherwise, seeing Kaleb tonight could prove to be even more awkward.

She moved into the dining room and set the plates and silverware on the table before searching for the linens. Not that it would be difficult. Mama always kept them in the right-hand drawer.

Turning toward the wall at the far end of the room, she vaguely recognized the tall piece of furniture whose glass case held Mama’s collection of pastel-colored Depression glass. The style of the piece was similar to the one Grace remembered growing up, except instead of the honey oak finish, this one was white.

She pulled the crystal knob to open the drawer on the right and gasped. It was the same piece. While the outside of the hutch had been painted, the inside of the drawer still bore hers and Lucy’s names. Names they’d written in permanent marker along the inside of the drawer. A move that had earned them both a stern scolding and a lengthy time-out.

Stepping back, she stared at the furniture piece, a bittersweet feeling leaching into her heart. She remembered the look of pure delight on her mother’s face the Christmas Daddy presented it to her. “You need a special place to display your collection,” he’d told her.