Chapter 3 #2
“Margaret and Myrtle Shelley established a high-class establishment right after World War II ended in 1945,” Ruth began, her voice taking on a storyteller’s cadence.
“Both had lost their husbands in the war, and I suppose they decided their prospects for remarriage were slim. They opened this place and simply called it Shelley’s.
And my goodness, did they do a thriving business. ”
Ruth’s eyes softened, taking on a faraway look that spoke of cherished memories—moments filled with youth and joy.
“When the authorities started cracking down on such establishments in the 1950s, they cleverly transformed the business. They converted the basement into a private club, and the place became one of the most exclusive social venues in the region. I was barely seventeen when I first visited, newly married to Jake’s grandfather and greener than spring grass.
The Shelley sisters were significantly older by then, but still formidable women. ”
A wistful smile curved Ruth’s lips as she sipped her forbidden soda. Faith felt as though she was witnessing something precious and intimate, a glimpse into a world long vanished.
“My Mitch was such a handsome man,” Ruth continued, her voice tender with remembrance.
“A true gentleman. I felt like I’d stepped into a fairy tale the first time I saw him.
He was worldly in ways I wasn’t, which I’ve always been thankful for, but once we exchanged vows, he was devoted to me until his dying day.
I lost him in a military training accident.
He was a test pilot—fearless and brilliant. ”
Faith blinked away unexpected tears, her heart constricting. She couldn’t imagine experiencing such profound love and devastating loss in such a compressed time frame. Her own grief over Steve had been complicated by guilt and regret rather than love’s absence.
“Don’t look so sad, dear,” Ruth said kindly. “We had five wonderful years together and brought two beautiful children into the world. I see him every time I look at Jake—it makes the memories sweeter somehow. And I’ve been blessed with many more adventures since then.”
Faith found herself in awe of this remarkable woman who had faced life with such courage and openness. What must it have been like to marry so young yet embrace life so fully? Faith had spent thirty years constructing protective walls, careful never to risk too much or feel too deeply.
“You understand, someone of my social standing would have faced severe consequences had my parents discovered I was frequenting a house of ill repute,” Ruth continued.
“They would have disowned me without hesitation if I’d brought scandal to the family name.
But my husband managed the details, and I learned to play cards, enjoy good cocktails, and keep my husband thoroughly captivated so he never had reason to visit the upper floors where the Shelley sisters still conducted their original business.
It was the worst-kept secret in town. Probably because the sheriff and mayor were both clients. ”
“That’s incredible,” Faith said, genuinely impressed. “Your secrets are safe with me.”
“It hardly matters anymore,” Ruth chuckled. “My parents have been dead near forty years now and all my friends keep dying too. It’s darned inconvenient to get old, let me tell you.”
Jake observed the two women from the doorway, his heart full.
His grandmother had been his anchor through a turbulent childhood, her home the only place where he’d felt truly safe and wanted.
And now, watching Faith’s animated expressions as she listened to Ruth’s stories, he felt something shift inside him.
Who would have thought that Jake Murphy, confirmed bachelor and renovation expert, might fall for a petite enchantress with a smoky voice and compassionate heart?
“Ready to head out, Gran?” he asked, stepping into the kitchen.
Both women looked up with identical expressions of annoyance at the interruption, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
He turned to Faith, his expression softening.
“Your house has good bones. The foundation isn’t as compromised as I initially feared.
It needs reinforcement and leveling in a few spots, but there aren’t any major structural cracks.
We’ll start by shoring up the weak areas and replacing the damaged floor joists.
I can have a team here first thing tomorrow morning to begin stabilizing everything.
I think you’ll have a beautiful home by the end of the year. ”
Faith nodded, hoping his confidence was well founded. The way his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners when he spoke about the renovations revealed his passion for restoration. It was oddly comforting.
“Wow, the end of the year,” she said. “That’s only a few months.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’re going to spend that limitless budget.
You strike me as a woman who doesn’t want to waste time.
I can pull crews off other jobs for a priority like this one.
I want to see it finished just as much as you do.
Houses like these are my passion, and they don’t come along every day. ”
“So it’s that bad, huh?” she asked.
“Yep, one of the worst I’ve seen,” he said, excitedly. “I’ve moved your belongings to what appears to be the sturdiest section of the house. Should minimize the risk of any more bathroom fixtures landing on your head.”
“Thank you,” Faith said, flustered by the intensity of his gaze. He was looking at her as though he could see beyond her professional facade to the uncertain woman beneath. For someone who made her living with words, she felt strangely tongue tied.
“What time do you need to be at the station tonight?” he asked.
She caught a hint of his cologne—something woody with notes of cedar and bergamot. It suited him perfectly. “I have a pre-show meeting at five, and I’m on air from six to nine. I’m usually home by ten.”
“I’ll come back this evening to begin addressing the wood rot,” he said. “That gives me time to return to the office, finalize the paperwork, and coordinate the necessary crews. I’ll send you the contract and get a digital signature. I can start getting permits first thing in the morning.”
He didn’t mention he’d have to pull in every favor he had to make the end of the year deadline, or that he planned to personally oversee most of the work—something he rarely did these days.
“We should be able to restore water and electricity service sometime next week as long as nothing catastrophic happens.”
“That would be wonderful,” Faith sighed with relief. “My neighbor, Mrs. Larsen, has been letting me use her bathroom to prepare for work, and I’ve been surviving on takeout until I have functional living space.”
Jake had wondered about her living arrangements and had been prepared to offer his own place if necessary.
He realized with startling clarity that he wanted to spend as much time with Faith Hartwell as possible.
There was something about her—vulnerability beneath strength, warmth behind professional reserve—that drew him like nothing had before.
As he helped his grandmother to her feet, Jake found himself mentally rearranging his entire schedule to make room for this project.
Jake hadn’t felt this immediate pull toward someone in longer than he could remember.
Faith Hartwell presented two restoration challenges—her beloved house and her carefully guarded heart.
And as he guided Ruth toward the door, casting one last glance at Faith over his shoulder, he knew with absolute certainty which project would prove the greater challenge—and the more rewarding success.
He was coming back tonight, and not just to shore up rotting floorboards. Jake Murphy, confirmed bachelor and master builder, was suddenly very interested in laying a new foundation of an entirely different kind.