Noel, Alabama Read online

  The kitchen was small but efficient and updated. There was one bedroom and one bathroom. The place was tastefully decorated and had a good-sized flat-screen TV. “This is amazing,” Bailey said, and truly meant it. “I can’t believe these aren’t rented all the time.”

  Mrs. Wiggins laughed. “I only rent when I want to whom I want.”

  “Well, I’ll take it. How much is the rent?” Bailey asked.

  “Seven hundred for the month, includes utilities. You’ll have to bring your own trash down and drop it in the can out back. Trash day is Tuesday.”

  Seven hundred? “Are you sure that’s all you’re asking?” Bailey had to ask.

  “Of course. This house has been paid for for years. I won’t be accused of trying to overcharge anyone.” Mrs. Wiggins appeared slightly miffed.

  “Yes, but I don’t think you’re charging enough,” Bailey said.

  “Nonsense. We’re not in California, you know,” Mrs. Wiggins lifted her eyebrows in a knowing way.

  Got it. “Thank you for allowing me to live in your lovely home,” Bailey said.

  “So, you’ll stay here tonight?” she asked. “There are sheets on the bed and linens in the drawer.”

  It was indeed move-in ready. The place was fully furnished. Even the kitchen had pots and pans ready for use. “You bet. I’ll finish my errands and see you back here this evening.”

  “We can sign documents later. Here’s the key. It opens the side door that leads to the tenants’ staircase. I’ll give you my phone number if you need anything,” Mrs. Wiggins said. “Oh, and why don’t you leave your suitcase here? Looks like you’ve been dragging it all over town today.”

  Had the woman been watching her roll her carry-on through town? Bailey looked down at her now-dusty luggage. She’d brought it with her because she’d believed there was a good possibility of ending up at the inn for the night. Funny how her day had meandered to this gorgeous place.

  “I believe I will leave it here if you don’t mind.”

  “Feel free to take a few minutes to freshen up.” Mrs. Wiggins smiled sweetly as she said it, but Bailey wondered if she had something in her teeth.

  “I will, thanks.”

  A good tooth brushing was exactly what she needed, since her day began back in L.A more hours ago than she could count. And maybe her hair could use a quick brushing. And lipstick wouldn’t hurt.

  Bailey waved as she crossed back to the other side of the street. Well, that had been productive. Now, she had to do the other thing she’d been dreading. Dreading and not dreading. Seeing her daddy was the happy part.

  Her heart beat faster just thinking about the drive out of town.

  “Are you planning to drive out to your daddy’s place in that?” Seth appeared in front of her as she made her way toward the side lot.

  “In what?”

  He nodded toward the perfectly capable compact economy rental.

  “What? It’s fine.”

  “Your daddy’s road. That’s what. That thing will rattle your teeth loose and leave parts scattered along the way, in case you’ve been gone so long you don’t remember.”

  Bailey rolled her eyes, hating how right he was. She hadn’t taken the extra insurance out on the car either. “I forgot about the gravel road when I leased it.”

  “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you take my Jeep Wrangler? I drive my sheriff’s SUV wherever I go, but my Jeep sits behind the station most of the time unless I leave town for personal travel.”

  Bailey frowned. She didn’t want to owe him. But she also didn’t want to end up Flintstone-footing it back to town tonight in the tin can she’d rented. “Are you sure?”

  He rolled his eyes at her this time. “I don’t make offers unless I’m sure.”

  “Thanks for this. I’ll try to upgrade this one tomorrow,” Bailey said as he led her back toward downtown and the sheriff’s office.

  “I don’t need the Jeep, and if I do, I’ll let you know, so there’s no sense in you paying to upgrade the rental. That would be a waste of someone’s money.”

  Bailey agreed that it would. And right now, the budget was nonexistent when it came to upgrades of any kind. “I’ll owe you one,” Bailey said, though she tried not to wince at those words.

  “No, you won’t. My offer doesn’t come with strings.” Seth was frowning now, as if she’d offended him.

  Bailey felt the need to make small talk. “So, the town looks great. Just like I remember.” Better, even, she thought.

  He nodded. “Christmas is always nice around here.” He still seemed a little grouchy.

  Yes, it was. And she was here to capitalize on that, both personally and professionally, which caused a little guilty pang in her gut. “Brings back a lot of memories.” Now, why had she gone and said that?

  He turned and gave her the stone-cold blue stare. “Yes, it does.”

  “Have I done something to annoy you?” she finally asked.

  He narrowed his eyes at her as if trying to decide how to answer that. They’d arrived at the back of the sheriff’s office, which was pretty much deserted. His gray, four-door Jeep stood waiting for her. He motioned for her to sit on the set of concrete steps that led to the back door of the sheriff’s station.

  “Bailey, I’m not annoyed with you, okay? I’m just trying to catch up,” he said. “And we need to get something straight.” They were sitting shoulder to shoulder on the top step. This was the closest Bailey had been to Seth McKay in twelve years, and she could feel his body heat sliding from him toward her. She could smell the aftershave or deodorant, or whatever it was that was the same as it had been over a decade ago.

  And Bailey could almost physically feel his agitation. Not anger, exactly.

  She cocked up an eyebrow in question. “Catch up?”

  “With you. You have a lot of energy, and you walk and talk fast. I’m happy to help in whatever way I can; in fact, I want to help, and I know we’ll see each other a lot in the coming days, so let’s get something straight: You don’t owe me. You won’t owe me. Understood?”

  She blinked. That was a lot of words strung together aimed at shaming her just a little. “Um, okay. But I’m a thanker. I will thank you when you assist me. Aames always taught me to tell people when I appreciate someone’s help. Are you good with that?” she asked, slightly miffed with his tiny lecture.

  The side of his mouth quirked up, like it had since they’d been kids. She called it his side smile. “I’m good with that,” he said. “Let’s get you in this Jeep. It’s not driven nearly enough, so I’m glad to see it get some use.”

  “It’s a beautiful automobile,” Bailey said. She could tell he’d put a lot of extra after-market accessories on the Jeep. Growing up here, she’d learned a lot about four-wheel-drive vehicles, since most families owned at least one to manage some of the rough terrain in the area. “It reminds me of the old Jeep you had in high school—just a little.”

  Bailey and Seth had driven up and down every dirt road in the county as teens in that old Jeep, the music turned up loud.

  They were both quiet for a minute, then Seth said, “Yeah, those were great times.”

  Chapter Three

  Driving to her daddy’s place a few miles outside of Ministry didn’t take long, but the last mile happened to be a rutted red dirt road, which precipitated the need for a tougher vehicle than the one she’d rented. Bailey silently thanked Seth yet again for the kindness in lending her his Jeep. The weather in recent weeks made all the difference in the last stretch of getting home.

  Home. Funny how coming back here put that word in her head, whether she liked it or not. But it was her home. Back in L.A., she could ignore the fact that she was from a dot on the map in Alabama where SEC football reigned supreme from fall until Christmas, depending on how the Crimson Tide fared versus the War Eagles of Auburn. Where homemade casseroles were the currency of family pride, and bless your heart may be murmured sympathetically because one lost a family member or more
likely muttered as a verbal eye roll.

  As she turned onto red dirt road, Bailey gave up fighting the memories as they washed over her. Coming back here was like taking a risk with her soul and her sanity. Yes, that was a bit dramatic, even for someone who worked in the movie industry, but that’s what it felt like. The loss of her mother when she was a little girl seemed to have planted the seed of insecurity that grew into something as massive as one of the giant redwoods in the northern part of the state where she now resided.

  Bailey’s momma had “gone to heaven” when she was barely six years old, or that’s what she’d been told by all the well-meaning folks around her. She’d been old enough to remember her touch; her smile, cookies, and hair-curling. But too young to remember the exact sound of her voice or the smell of her perfume. Almost though.

  The fork in the road brought her back to the present. Bailey veered right of the old oak that still bore the hand-lettered sign with the peeling paint that said, POSTED—NO TRESPASSING. If she’d gone left, it would have led her to the small lake and the cabins where all her camp memories lay.

  She gritted her teeth as the Jeep’s tire dropped deep into a rut in the road. “Aagh.” Why didn’t Daddy do something about this drive?

  With that thought, the house came into view and her heart sped up. It was the same as she’d remembered, an oversized, two-story log cabin. A porch ran the length of her childhood home. Bailey was hit with nostalgia that rivaled being mortared with a load of buckshot from her daddy’s 12 gauge. But in a good way.

  Home. She was home. Bailey barely had time to allow the overwhelming sensation to wash over her before Daddy appeared on the front porch, a huge grin on his face. God, how she’d missed him.

  Bailey slid the Jeep into park and hopped out to greet him. But before she started toward the porch, a deep wail nearly had her running for cover. Two enormous paws slammed her shoulders and pushed her backward against the vehicle. Bailey stared into the soulful eyes and saggy jaws of a massive hound.

  “Groucho, you get down there and mind your manners, boy.” There was a high pitch whistle and the big guy unpinned her, but not without leaving pawprints on her jacket.

  Bailey knew there was a new dog but hadn’t expected one quite so monstrous or adorable. “Groucho, huh? Yeah, that fits.” The black eyebrows against the hound’s tan fur gave him an animated expression—even more so than normal.

  “Come give your old dad a hug, why don’t you?” Daddy had made it down the porch steps to her by then.

  “Hey, Daddy.” She hugged him tight, inhaling the scent of him. His neatly trimmed beard had some gray in it that matched his hair perfectly. He’d turned fifty-seven this year. He was still fit and youthful and continued to work, though he threatened to retire every time his job added more regulations and paperwork to his daily routine.

  Aames Boone was an Alabama Wildlife and Fisheries Agent. He knew about the outdoors and all the animals. And hunting and fishing. So, that’s what they’d done when things got rough within their four walls during her childhood. They’d headed to the lake or the woods. Bailey’s education did not resemble that of her peers. She’d been able to outshoot, outfish, or outhunt anybody, male or female, in any nearby county. It wasn’t that she’d wanted it to be that way; it simply was. Bailey was involved heavily in 4-H and the local agriculture club.

  And she’d loved TV and movies. She watched them endlessly on their less-than-perfectly-clear picture tube television in the living room. That had been her refuge. That, and her imagination. Writing. Painting. She was a creative in a place where it wasn’t exactly celebrated.

  “Well, sorry about that. Groucho is still a pup even though he’s as big as a full-grown bear.” Daddy frowned down at the animal, who now sat dutifully at his feet. “He gets excited from time to time, but he’s a good one.”

  “He’s adorable,” Bailey said. That set Groucho’s tail to wagging. “Who’s a good boy?” she asked. But Bailey remembered her training commands and reminded Groucho to stay even as she showed affection.

  “I’m glad you’re finally home. Heard you been stirring up trouble in town already,” he said, but there was a grin on his face.

  “As in, I stopped by the sheriff’s office? Word does travel fast around here.” He started to grab her bags and she placed a hand on his arm.

  “I’ll be staying at Mrs. Wiggins’s place in town since I need to be on site for work.”

  “Hmmph. I heard a rumor about that too. Well, I hoped I would get at least one night with you here before you moved to town.”

  “I promised her I’d stay there tonight and pick up the leases for all the rooms I’m renting for the crew. I’ll spend time out here whenever I can. Maybe before everyone arrives. After filming starts, it might be harder to get away.”

  They entered the house, and Bailey was hit with another heavy wave of nostalgia and the scent of home-cooked food. She inhaled. “Smells heavenly. Red beans and rice with sausage?”

  He ruffled her hair like she was back in grade school. “You got it.”

  “I try to avoid meat most days, but—”

  “Avoid meat? Since when? Lord, I wondered when California was gonna get to you.”

  Bailey held up her hand. “You didn’t let me finish,” she said. “I know your sausage is wild-caught and organic all the way, so I’ll definitely make an exception.” If Bailey was honest, it was easy to maintain a diet with little meat where she lived. There were so many vegetarian and vegan options in L.A. But given her current options, red beans, rice, and deer sausage smelled and sounded perfect.

  “Come on in here while I stir the pot. You can make the salad,” he said.

  Bailey nodded as they moved toward the kitchen. She looked around as they walked through the house. The smiling photos of her and her dad far outnumbered any others. But there were a few of her momma. Those were precious.

  The aroma hit Bailey squarely in the face when they entered the kitchen. Daddy didn’t know much about little girl things but he knew how to cook. In fact, Bailey was surprised he hadn’t remarried after she’d flown the coop. Ministry was kind of known for being woman heavy. As in, the town had a higher population of single women than men. And her daddy was a catch, as things went here in Ministry.

  “So, how are things in L.A.?” he asked while adding a healthy dose of Creole seasoning to his simmering kidney beans.

  Bailey pulled out a head of lettuce, a couple tomatoes, a cucumber, and a red onion from the fridge and brought them to the large island workspace, pulling up a barstool to do her salad crafting. “I mean, it’s L.A. Things are humming along. Most people are going vegan and checking Twitter regularly to make sure they haven’t done anything wrong.” Bailey shrugged.

  He grinned and shook his head. “I guess everybody has to ‘do them,’ right?”

  She nearly dropped the knife. “Wow, that’s some big progress, Daddy.” Whenever she’d flown him to the city, he’d regularly poked fun at the differences between their two worlds.

  “What? It’s not like I don’t have the internet, or Netflix, for that matter.”

  “You have Netflix out here?” Bailey wondered what variety of space aliens had come and replaced her father with this modern man. Had she noticed a new flat-screen television when they’d gone through the family room that had been the home of a twenty-five-year-old dinosaur picture tube set he’d bought when she’d turned five?

  “You act like I don’t know what’s happening in the world, but I do, or at least now I do.”

  Bailey narrowed her eyes. “Why now?” she asked.

  He shrugged and turned off the burner under the pot of beans. The rice cooker sat nearby, its light showing that it was no longer cooking, but keeping the rice warm and ready to serve. Daddy said nothing else about his newfound self-awareness.

  “Salad’s ready,” Bailey announced. She went in search of dressing or makings for a simple vinaigrette. It was while she stood peering into his refrigerator she noti
ced some odd items: white wine, olives, and fancy cheese. Her father hated olives. And he only drank beer. And she’d never seen any cheese fancier than pepper jack. Bailey’s radar beeped wildly but she held her tongue and pulled out a bottle of organic raspberry vinaigrette. Another oddity.

  The oven timer beeped, and Daddy pulled out a cookie sheet with what was obviously bread. So much for her grain-brain good intentions. The garlic butter sizzled atop the crispy baguette. “Ah. That looks so good.”

  “Your favorite, honey.”

  Bailey’s stomach growled loudly at that moment. “Okay, let’s eat.”

  “Hello?” A female voice called as someone entered the house. “Have I missed dinner?”

  Bailey vaguely recognized the voice as the woman appeared.

  *

  Joella McKay, besides being Seth’s momma, had always been special to Bailey. She’d stepped in when Bailey was a little girl and had desperately needed a soft touch. And now, she was here, obviously invited by Bailey’s daddy to dinner on her first night home.

  They were sitting at the dining room table, something Bailey had rarely done with her daddy. “Bailey, I’m thrilled you’re here. Ever since we found out you were coming home, Aames has talked about nothing else.”

  Bailey smiled politely and answered, “I have a hard time believing that.”

  “Your coming home is a big deal to me; you should know that. I hate that you won’t be staying here. I’m trying to declutter a little around here and do some updating of the house,” Daddy said.

  When had the word declutter entered his vocabulary? Then it clicked. He and Joella were dating. They were an item. She was the catalyst for the changes. White wine. Stinky cheese. Olives. Decluttering and Netflix.

  Joella had been someone she’d really cared about throughout her childhood. It was odd now though, her sitting with them at the dinner table. After all, she was Seth’s mother.