Noel, Alabama Read online

  Cheryl was married and lived less than a mile from town, so Seth had moved upstairs for the convenience since he’d lived on the ranch with his momma after his daddy passed to help with the workload. She’d recently sold the horses and the property and moved into a lovely home that required less maintenance.

  Everything Seth did either on duty or off was up for public scrutiny. And for gossip of course. He hadn’t lived his thirty years here not to understand that. So, he’d need to take care when it came to how he handled things with the whole movie circus coming to town. Bailey was the ringleader for all the chaos about to descend, and he’d need to keep his head on straight no matter how he felt about her.

  When they’d been kids and their daddies had been fishing buddies, their fathers had taken the two of them along in the boat and let them play together, fish together, and swim together. They’d been as close as siblings. Joella would have supper waiting for them, or if enough legal-sized fish were caught that day, she would fry them up outside with hush puppies and they would chase lightning bugs until the mosquitoes got too bad.

  Bailey had been a tomboy and tough as nails—always. Seth respected that about her. She’d never whined about getting a splinter when they climbed trees or picked blackberries out behind her house. Maybe because she didn’t have a mother to teach her how to be more girlish when she was young.

  Seth understood how much Bailey had missed her momma after she died. She’d even cried about it sometimes, which had made him uncomfortable, though he’d tried not to show it.

  Tonight, they’d had a simple conversation, and for a precious few minutes, the years fell away and it was almost like before. Back when they could debate or discuss something without all the years of baggage.

  She smelled the same too. Seth always loved how she smelled. Fresh, like she’d been out in the woods picking flowers. But he guessed she didn’t get to do that often in L.A. And that was a crying shame considering how much time she’d spent doing it throughout her childhood.

  Chapter Five

  Bailey’s phone alarm shrieked its usual awful noise. But it took her a minute to recognize the sound. Her first impulse was to fling the offending thing across the room a second before she realized the reason it sounded different today. Today it had woken her up. It never woke her up. Every other day, she’d set it as an unlikely precaution. Because she never slept until her alarm.

  Today, Bailey willed her eyelids to open and stay that way while the terrible sound continued. Her brain finally caught up with what was happening enough to tell her hand to reach out a finger to the touch screen to shut that infernal racket off. She rubbed her eyes and tried to remember going to bed last night. Bailey looked around the room with bleary eyes. Oh, yeah. She really was back in Alabama. But she’d slept like the dead. Which never happened. Like, never.

  It was quiet here in this old house overlooking the downtown of Ministry. L.A. wasn’t quiet, even in the dead of night. As soon as Bailey had been financially able, she’d moved to the city from Highland Park, where she’d initially had to share a one-bedroom apartment with two hopeful girls in the early stages of their acting careers. They’d met in college. Different paths, same industry.

  But sleep wasn’t the thing that drew Bailey to the city, obviously. That was something she’d given up ages ago. The ability to get to work at the studio without having to spend a ridiculous amount of time in traffic every day made it worth every cent. Well, almost.

  For a moment, when the realization hit that she’d gotten at least eight, unheard-of, uninterrupted hours of dead-to-the-world sleep, Bailey wondered if she’d gotten her priorities wrong. As she sat up in bed, and stretched better than she ever had in yoga, then yawned hugely, Bailey decided this night’s sleep was one of the best gifts she’d gotten in years. But she would keep that to herself. Should anyone find out she had something good to say about being home, they would hit her over the head with a great big, I told you so.

  And that was something Bailey avoided whenever possible.

  The heavenly smell of Mrs. Wiggins’s shortbread suddenly permeated her brain, but her glow of sleep excellence and sensory delight was harshly interrupted by the shrill sound of her phone ringing. The familiar number popped up on her phone as it did many mornings.

  Bailey put the boss’s assistant, Jem, on speaker as she went in search of a Keurig. Jem could be a giant pain but also a necessary one to Bailey’s job. “Yes, Jem, I’ve arrived and am in the process of getting accommodations for everyone. I should know in a couple days about the talent trailers. I have to speak to the sheriff about the space available for them and the honey wagon.” The honey wagon housed the bathrooms, so required a way to run the sewerage, and it held small rooms for day players and stunt players while they were filming. There would be a hair and makeup trailer and a wardrobe trailer, not to mention producer, director, and teamster trailers. There were others as well, but right now, Bailey would take things a step at a time. She had a feeling there would be some improvisation necessary. She would know more after she met with Seth.

  The mere mention of Sheriff McKay brought to mind the mental picture of the grown-up Seth. And how he filled out his Wranglers. Yes, she’d noticed he still wore the same brand as when he was nineteen. They were utterly timeless in her opinion.

  Bailey rooted around in the kitchen but didn’t see a coffeepot. Not one from this decade. There was one, but it required knowledge from her childhood that she no longer possessed. As she eased Jem’s mind about the trailer space, she made a mental note to have Keurigs placed in all the rooms for the talent. There were levels of items that were required depending on the person’s title. Assistants got no Keurigs. They would either have to figure out how to use the antiquated coffeepots or wait until they got on set for coffee.

  It was a matter of the budget. If it were up to Bailey, everyone would be treated the same. But it wasn’t and they weren’t, so she would order what she couldn’t buy here in town. Hopefully, rural delivery would be within a reasonable window.

  “Wait, why do you need to speak to the sheriff about the trailers? How far out in the sticks were you raised?”

  She ignored that. “He’s currently the point person here in town,” Bailey said, hoping it would be a satisfactory explanation, while she slipped her sensible Chuck Taylors on. No sense in being laughed out of town by wearing something the locals would consider ridiculous. And she certainly wouldn’t want to be accused of “big-timing” them by wearing expensive brands and showing off. Of course, these items would be normal, everyday non-head turners where she lived. But there was no quicker way to have her efforts at cooperation around here fail at every turn.

  “Oh my. Your hometown is like an episode of Schitt’s Creek,” Jem said, referring to a popular show streaming on Netflix. Bailey could hear the horror/amusement in her voice. She and Jem were friends—sort of. Jem worked for the boss, Jeremy Stone. And when push came to shove, Jem was the arm of the boss.

  “I guess that’s a good recent comparable. I would’ve spoken to the mayor about all this but he’s out of town.” Honestly, the town reminded Bailey more of those old reruns of Andy Griffith set in Mayberry RFD, which nobody in her generation had ever seen or heard of. Daddy used to watch them all the time when she was a little girl. For some reason she’d loved them. There was a sheriff with a little motherless boy whom Bailey had identified with painfully.

  Jem laughed outright over her last comment. Jem would no doubt share this information with everyone in the office. Nothing was more amusing to city folk than backwoods country folk.

  “Careful where you step. And let me know when you get all the accommodations worked out.” Jem hung up still laughing at her own joke about stepping in cow manure.

  So funny. But not as unlikely as one might think.

  Bailey shook it off. Jem’s attitude wasn’t so different than her own with regard to this town during all the years she’d been away. She’d made her share of cracks about her
hometown in Alabama. But hearing someone else make fun of it in a slightly nasty way annoyed her.

  Bailey guessed it was like poking fun at your own family; all was fair game until someone on the outside piped up, then everybody came together to take them down. Or so she’d heard. Well, she’d watched a lot of movies and television. Growing up with no mother and no siblings hadn’t given her much sense of what that might be like. Her grandparents were long gone. She still had an aunt someplace in Atlanta. But Bailey was very protective of her daddy. Maybe that’s why she had a little hesitation when it came to his letting someone else in their very small circle. Heck, it wasn’t even big enough to make a circle.

  A text sounded on her phone, which brought her back to the task at hand. Her coworker, Alexis, was flying in today and would arrive around three o’clock. Bailey had needed this head start to make contact here in Ministry before her tiny, firecracker coworker arrived. They’d worked together in small towns several times, so Alexis, being the fast learner she was, understood that a different skill set was required here than in an urban location.

  But it might behoove Bailey to remind her again before Alexis hit the ground running. The tiny but efficient woman spoke fast, moved with stealth, and was a problem solver who didn’t take no for an answer. Which might not go over so well here. Here, everything was a negotiation.

  So Bailey texted Alexis: Keep in mind you’re traveling to a slower-paced world. These are people I grew up with. Go easy…

  Alexis: Oh good Lord, Bailey. Glad I packed my Xanax.

  Alexis would do fine. It might take a day or two, but she understood how to relate to people. It was her job and she loved her job as much as Bailey loved hers.

  So far, Bailey had gotten ten of the fifty or so of the rooms for the next four weeks. She’d better get cracking. And she really could use three or four cups of coffee.

  Bailey headed downstairs and knocked on Mrs. Wiggins’s door, the aroma of shortbread now enveloping her. The diminutive woman answered the door holding a live feline that stared at her with pale yellow eyes that could quite possibly see into her soul.

  “Well, good morning, Bailey Boone. I hope you slept well on your first night home.” Mrs. Wiggins blinked up at her and opened the door wider as if she should enter.

  “I actually did sleep well, thank you. I wanted to give you the paperwork and find out if I could get your electronic deposit information to make the rent payments.”

  Mrs. Wiggins frowned. “We don’t do that here, dear. I take checks or cash. You can pay on the first of each month.”

  “Oh. Okay. I’ll need to speak with my boss’s production assistant and get a paper check overnighted.”

  “It’s alright. I trust you, dear. I’ve got some coffee made. Let me pour you a cup.”

  Before Bailey could protest about not having time to stay and drink it, the woman had moved toward a percolator like the one in her room and snagged a cup off one of the tiny hooks that held one of many mugs.

  “Oh. Thank you. I didn’t take time to make any this morning.”

  “Cream? Sugar?” Before she could decline the heavy cream and real, white sugar, Mrs. W had spooned in two teaspoons of it and added at least a tablespoon of cream from her tiny crockery.

  “Oh—sure.”

  It was pure heaven. Bailey tried to stay away from the real stuff, instead, ordering her skinny latte with almond milk. But—holy moly—was it worth the sacrifice all these years?

  Before she could take a second sip, a tiny plate appeared in front of her with a single slice of shortbread. Weak. She was weak. And tried to use her best manners in not devouring the cookie in one bite.

  Bailey used the proffered napkin to wipe her mouth. “This was such a treat. Thanks again for accommodating us. I’ll bring the check to you as soon as I get it. I assume the post office is still in the same place?”

  “Yes, it’s still where it was. Where it has been for the last fifty years that I know of.” The elderly woman smiled as if having Bailey in her kitchen was the best thing ever.

  Bailey experienced a warm, cozy sensation at Mrs. Wiggins’s kindness. “That’s my next stop then. Thanks for breakfast.”

  “Have a nice day, dear,” Mrs. Wiggins said, then she added, “Oh, and if you see my kitty, Scarlett O’ Hara while you’re out, would you see her home for me?”

  “Oh, is she missing?” Bailey asked. “What does she look like?” She hadn’t remembered seeing the live feline around.

  “She’s a large calico. You can’t miss her.”

  “Okay, I’ll keep an eye out.”

  “Thanks, Bailey. And do have a lovely day.”

  It was as if she had a grandmotherly angel wishing her well for the day after feeding her delicious sugary treats. And as much as she should feel guilty about drinking heavy cream and eating who knew how much butter and sugar in that one slice of shortbread, Bailey decided to simply appreciate the kindness and move forward.

  She had brought her running shoes though. It might be a good idea to plan for more running if she was going to eat her weight in shortbread while she was here.

  *

  Seth had just returned from a call that consisted of a neighborly dispute right outside of town. Cows. Darn cows. They continued to break out of their fencing and poop on the neighbor’s yard. It was a recurring problem.

  Seth climbed out of the SUV and was deciding what to do about his boots. Change them or clean them? Cheryl would give him the devil of a hard time if he went in with them on as they presently were. They had an agreement: Don’t stink the place up. No tuna sandwiches or cow manure on your boots; and a few other items not worth mentioning. It was a pretty simple verbal contract. He’d broken it more than once and decided the price was more than he wanted to pay currently. He appreciated Cheryl’s honesty and friendship. She appreciated clean air. And he despised tuna; the mere whiff of it made him gag. So, unless he wanted to live with the stench of it for the next week as her lunch, the poop boots were an outside deal.

  So embroiled in his current dilemma, he’d nearly missed Bailey crossing the street toward the post office. Ministry had been set up long ago for convenience. The original planners had laid things out like the old Western towns. The bank, post office, sheriff’s department, inn, town bar, and various other businesses sat right along the main drag downtown. And off to the side was the town greenspace, or the square where folks congregated. It was where they put up the giant Christmas tree during the holidays and where fireworks were enjoyed on the Fourth of July and New Year’s Eve. There was a large fountain in the center where coins were thrown and many wishes made.

  So when Seth did spot Bailey out of the corner of his eye this time, he covertly lowered his focus back down to his boots as if he’d not noticed her. The last thing they needed was to get people in town talking. Because that was never a good thing.

  And his surprising her when she arrived home last night wasn’t exactly a smooth move.

  Seth reached for his number two pair of boots in the back of his vehicle hoping he’d not already, well, gotten some number two on them. But they appeared alright. A little crusty, but nothing he couldn’t knock off on the curb before heading inside. The current ones would require hosing off, so he carried them out back of the office and set to work.

  As the hosing commenced, Cheryl came over the two-way on their dedicated channel. “Sheriff, we’ve got an out of towner making her way toward the Pizza Pie. Looks like a jaywalker to me. I’m a little busy right now with important city business. Thought you might want to cover me. Over.”

  Good ol’ Cheryl. She had his back whether or not she liked to admit it. “Ten-four, Chief. I’ll be there as soon as I finish rinsing off these offensive-smelling boots. Thank you for your efforts. Over.”

  City offenses might always be considered county offenses since they occurred inside the county lines. There were technicalities in every line of work. But the sheriff and the chief of police worked together to keep th
eir citizens safe; that fact was undisputed here in Ministry and its surrounding areas.

  *

  Bailey had a long list of people to talk to and things to cover today. She’d made mental lists to add to her physical ones, even as she’d relaxed in the most delightful tub of hot water and bubbles. One item she’d added to the list was to swing by the Pizza Pie for old times’ sake and say hi to Joella.

  Bailey really was happy about their budding relationship. Daddy was alone here and getting older. It relieved her that he had somebody. It had bothered her that he’d spent his days going to work in the woods or on the lake—alone.

  So, before she got in the Jeep, Bailey decided to take a step back to the past, where she’d spent so much time during her formative years in Ministry.

  The Pizza Pie had bells on the door, still, and they jingled almost pleasantly as she entered. The place hadn’t changed as far as the vibe went. Its walls were still painted bright blue with neon slices of pizza adorning them, with other neon curly cues here and there. The upgrades were that it was clean as a whistle and had newly installed booths and tables.

  Of course, it was also decorated for Christmas, like all the businesses and homes in Ministry. There were green, red, and blue lights strung all around, and wreaths hung on the front doors. It was still a super-groovy lunch spot, and the smell of Pizza Joe’s incredible crust made Bailey’s stomach growl.

  “Good morning, Bailey. What a pleasant surprise.” Joella came out from the back at the sound of the bells, she assumed. Joella wore a white apron with reddish-orange spots of what Bailey assumed was pizza sauce. Joella stood behind the counter that had been there for decades.

  “Hi there. The place looks amazing, Joella. Brings back lots of memories.” And it did. Most of them involved Seth, of course. The two of them as kids hanging out together in the summers sharing a milkshake with money they’d scrounged up between them while their parents were at work. When they weren’t working at Camp Grandview on Bailey’s family property. It truly did have a grand view.