Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
G enevieve Porter clung to the ladder with her right arm, while stretching her left trying to reach the empty spot on the bookshelf without having to actually move the ladder. It’d been a slow day at the library in Forest Grove, North Carolina, so she’d resorted to clearing the shelves and dusting as she went. Genevieve prided herself in the fact that while she was the head librarian, she would do any task needed to keep the library running smoothly. She’d already pulled out about twenty books that would go from the shelf to their monthly book sale.
She hated for the library to lose one book in its collection, even if there were several copies on the shelf already. But it had to be done. They didn’t have unlimited space. Genevieve consoled herself that for every book she removed, she was making space for a new book that would bring joy to a reader’s heart.
“Miss G? Whatcha doing?” She looked down to see Jeremiah, one of her favorite patrons. Jeremiah was ten and usually haunted the juvenile and young adult section, not historical fiction, where she was clinging to the ladder.
“Just organizing and cleaning, Jer.” She looked back to the shelf. The rows and rows of colorful books warmed her heart. “This is all the work we do that you don’t even see. I’ve got to keep this place looking nice.” Sometimes it seems like the library is all I have.
“Yes, ma’am.” Jeremiah frowned up at her. “Be careful on the ladder, Miss G.”
Genevieve sneezed from the thin layer of dust that lined the metal shelf. “I will.” Jeremiah turned and headed back toward the young adult section of the library, while she finished the task at hand. She scooted the ladder down the side of the shelf, sliding several books over to dust. She pulled a few duplicates out, cradling them in her left arm. Reaching with her right arm, she started to run her hand along the shelf when she saw him.
A tall, dark-headed man with a close-shaved beard walked directly toward her, his head bent down looking at the jacket cover of a book. He doesn’t see me. Instantly, Genevieve knew what was about to happen but couldn’t seem to move or talk fast enough to prevent the collision. She felt the ladder tilt and scrambled for something to grab, anything. The handsome klutz broke her fall, as she tumbled on top of him, causing him to trip backward as he tried to catch her. They landed in a tangled heap, but both seemed relatively unharmed. She stared down into his handsome face, taking in the caramel eyes and the hint of gray at his temples. He smelled amazing, like sandalwood. She couldn’t seem to breathe, much less move.
“Ummm, Miss, could you...” He struggled to get the words out, as she finally realized she was putting all her weight on his chest. Heat rushed to her face.
“What? Oh, yes, sorry...” She disentangled her limbs from his, smoothing her navy skirt and straightening her starched white cotton blouse. She stood up, then checked the pins in her hair, tightening her bun back in place. She patted the thin gold necklace her grandmother gave her that she always wore. Still there, thank goodness. “Pay attention to where you are going.” She took a deep breath. It was an accident. He didn’t mean to knock you over. She tried a smile, taking the edge off her words. “Someone could get hurt.” She’d been so snippy and short these past few weeks. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own. And Tim’s.
Gabe pushed himself up from the floor. “I’m so sorry about that. I love Danny Palmer’s books.” He held up the book, which was Palmer’s latest best-seller, and shrugged. “I was so sucked in by the description, I wasn’t even looking.” He stuck out his hand. “Gabe. Gabe Raf... Roberts.”
She took his hand, surprised at how small hers felt in his. He held her hand a little too long, making her stomach dance. She let go of his hand quickly. “Anyone who likes Danny Palmer is all right by me. Nice to meet you, Gabe. Genevieve Porter.”
“Genevieve.” He smiled. “What a beautiful name.”
His eyes held hers for a moment, while her stomach did one more huge somersault. Her cheeks burned. Calm down, girl. She took a sharp breath, trying to steady her nerves. “Thanks. It’s my great grandmother’s name.”
He winked. “That’s something we have in common. I’m actually named after my great-grandmother, too.”
She frowned. “Your great-grandmother was Gabe?” Weird.
He laughed. “Gabriella. I’m Gabriel, after her. Gabriel Edgar FitzFairfax Roberts. Might as well stick all the names in for good measure.”
He’s really cute. She giggled. “That is a mouthful. Bet that wasn’t the easiest name to learn in kindergarten.” She paused. “I’m Genevieve Merriweather Porter. Merriweather after a great-aunt who died young. The original Genevieve lived to be in her nineties, so I guess it could go either way for me.”
“Let’s hope you take after Genevieve.” He smiled, and Genevieve’s heart beat faster. He had perfect white teeth that were either a gift from God or great orthodontics. She had to make herself focus on making coherent conversation.
She pulled the cuff of her shirt sleeve down tight, then smoothed a hand over the sleeve. She glanced over at the checkout area to see a line forming, as Kayla, one of the pages who worked for the library after school, was the only one manning the front desk. “Is there anything I can help you with, Mr. Roberts?”
“Gabe.” He grinned again. His caramel eyes seemed to reflect the harsh fluorescent light in a way that made his eyes almost glow.
Goodness. He’s drop-dead gorgeous. “Sorry, yes... Gabe.” I don’t think I’ll be forgetting his name anytime soon.
“Well, actually, I’m new in town and need a library card.” He held up the Danny Palmer book. “I’ve got to find out how Danny solves this case now.” His eyes crinkled when he smiled, giving him a distinctively boyish look.
Okay, library card. I can do that . Her frazzled brain rattled off the requirements instinctively. “Sure, all we need is proof of residency. Like an electric bill.”
“An electric bill? Umm...”
He looked perplexed. Cute, but not sharp. She nodded. “You do have running water and electricity, right?” She grinned so he would know she was teasing him.
He frowned, then smiled. “Yes, of course. I’m still getting settled. Not sure if I’ve actually gotten any bills or statements yet.” He searched through his wallet unsuccessfully.
They usually mail them or email them, buddy. Genevieve waited for him to put his wallet back in his pocket. “Oh, okay. Where are you from?”
He hesitated, almost as if he was processing the question. Maybe the elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top. He sure is easy on the eyes, though . “England. I just wanted a change of scenery. I’m renting Bramblewood Cottage.”
Genevieve perked up at the mention of her favorite cottage in Forest Grove. “Bramblewood? I love that place. I’ve always said if I ever hit the jackpot, I would buy it.”
Gabe beamed. “I love it, too. It just felt like home when I saw it.” He paused. “Have you ever been inside the cottage?”
Genevieve’s heart swelled at the thought. “No, I’ve just seen the outside. My mother stayed there once as a teenager and talked about how it was the perfect mountain home. All secluded and tucked away in all those trees. We drove up to it once when it was for sale years ago but couldn’t go inside because it was locked.” She could still remember the disappointment.
“I think I have the lease paperwork at my cottage. Would that suffice as proof of residence?”
She was having a hard time focusing on his words because she was so distracted by his face. She brushed a stray piece of hair away from her cheek. “Yes, that’s fine.”
Gabe smiled that million-dollar smile. “Great. And maybe you could come tour the cottage some time.”
I would love to see the inside of that cottage. She glanced at the clock. “That would be nice.” Is he hitting on me? Or just being nice? Someone who looks like that doesn’t hit on someone like me. “We’re about to close, but you could come by tomorrow and drop it off. Stock up on some books before the big storm.” She eyed the front desk again. I really need to go up there.
Gabe’s eyebrows shot up. “Big storm?”
She looked at him in disbelief. He can’t not know about the storm. “Have you not been watching the news?” Who hasn’t heard about the storm? They’ve been talking about it everywhere for the past two days.
Gabe shrugged. “I guess with all the moving and unpacking, I haven’t paid much attention.” He frowned. “What kind of storm?”
Genevieve tried to control her expression. Don’t let him see that you think he’s dumb. Cute but dumb. “A snowstorm. They are saying we could get at least ten inches. A few websites are claiming this storm could rival the 1993 Storm of the Century.” She bit her nail. I’ve got to get to the store tonight or tomorrow and get supplies. She put her hand down. Biting her nails was a nasty habit that she was trying to give up.
“Storm of the Century?” Gabe’s eyes grew wider. “I’m... wait, what? I’m not used to this. We don’t have this kind of weather in Del... England.”
Pity rose in her chest. He looks so worried. It must be hard to be in completely unfamiliar surroundings . “We get snowstorms every few years, but they are saying this could be dangerous. Not much else to do but prepare. The storm in 1993 was... well, epic. I hope it’s nothing like that, but we need to be ready, nonetheless.” She wrinkled her forehead. “I was six years old when that storm hit, and I can remember being stuck at home with no power for days. It was fun and scary all at the same time.” Tilly Jackson, her best friend and their research librarian, waved at her from across the room, signaling that it was time to shut the library down. Genevieve smiled at Gabe. “I’ve got to help close up the library. Bring the paperwork tomorrow. And, Gabe...” She looked into his velvety eyes. “Prepare for the storm, okay?”
Worry creased his face. “I will.” He handed the Danny Palmer book back to her. His hand brushed hers, causing her fingertips to tingle. “Thanks for everything.” As he walked out the door, Genevieve couldn’t help but watch until he was gone.
She shook her head. Enough mooning over the new guy in town. Lots of work to do before we get out of here. Genevieve herded Jeremiah out from his usual spot on one of the old bean bags in the young adult section, giving out a few pieces of candy to him before he left. She helped Tilly and Kayla check out the last few customers and put up a stack of returned books. Genevieve made fast work of counting the cash in the drawer. Once everything was in its place, she flipped the lights off, set the alarm, and locked the door behind them. As she walked out to her car, Genevieve couldn’t help but look forward to seeing Gabe again.
Genevieve pulled into her grandmother’s driveway. Dinner at Nana’s was a standing weekly date that she always looked forward to. No matter what was going on in her life or the world, being at her grandmother’s house always seemed to make things a little better. Nana’s house was a small, cozy red brick home off of Main Street. Genevieve pulled the edges of her red jacket tighter as she ran up to the front door. The wind cut through her jacket, leaving her shivering. She gave half a knock before pulling the door open.
“Nana, it’s me!” She slipped off her dark loafers and dropped her jacket on the sofa.
Nana stuck her head around the door from the kitchen. “I’m in here.”
Genevieve padded across the floor, then plopped down at Nana’s small breakfast table. She smiled thinking of all the memories made and problems solved at this table. Instinctively, Nana passed her a steaming cup of hot cocoa.
“How was your day, dear?” Nana smiled kindly as she stirred the contents of a big pot on the stove. Even at eighty, Nana was slim, trim, and always dressed to the nines. Genevieve admired how she looked chic in her oversized cream sweater, slim black pants, and chunky black boots.
“Busy but good.” A vision of Gabe flashed across her mind. She sipped her cocoa and tried to calm the butterflies that flitted in her stomach at the thought of him. “I fell all over myself in front of a handsome man today.”
Nana laughed. “I’m sure you weren’t that bad.” Nana tasted a sample of the soup and murmured her approval.
Genevieve’s eyes widened. “No, I mean I literally fell all over myself. As in fell over and fell on top of him.” Her cheeks burned at the memory of his body under hers. She sat her cocoa down and fanned her hot face.
Nana gave the pot another quick stir. “Well, there are worse things to fall on top of than a handsome man. Anyone I know?”
“No, he’s new to town.” Genevieve paused. “What’s in the pot?”
Nana pulled out a small serving spoon and ladled out the contents of the pot. “Homemade beef stew.” Nana tasted the stew again, a small purring noise escaping from her lips. “Pretty good, if I do say so myself.” Nana reached into the oven and pulled out an iron skillet filled with cornbread. After fixing their plates, they sat down to dig in.
“Have you talked to your parents today?” asked Nana. As always, Nana had a smaller serving of both the soup and cornbread than Genevieve. She always joked that you don’t stay slim after fifty without cutting portion sizes.
Genevieve nodded, wiping her mouth with her plaid cloth napkin. “Dad said they made it safely to Dallas about an hour ago.” Her parents were in Texas for an accounting continuing education class that her father had signed up to attend.
Nana smiled. “I’m glad. I know they are glad to not have to worry about this storm. But they worry about you. Your father’s already called me twice to see if I could convince you to stay with me when it moves in.” She looked over her glasses at Genevieve. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay tonight? We could drink cocoa and watch old movies.”
Maybe I should stay. Genevieve shook her head. “I really would like to, Nana, but I really need to get my house cleaned up. I haven’t even unpacked from going to see Aunt Tracey last week.” I haven’t felt like doing any housework lately, and the house is a disaster. She brightened at the thought of staying with Nana for a few days. “But I will come to your house Thursday as soon as I get off work. If the storm hits that night and we get snowed in, there is no one I would rather be with than you.” She meant it, too. Genevieve adored her grandmother, and she feared the day that Nana wouldn’t be around anymore. Although judging by her spunky spirit, healthy eating, and regular exercise routine, Nana planned on making it to at least one hundred.
“Well, you are welcome to stay tomorrow night if you want.”
Genevieve swallowed her bite of soup. “Thank you, but I’m meeting Tilly and Sarah for dinner to talk about the blog. We always meet on the last Wednesday of the month to go over our plans for the next month.” She owned a book blog with her friends for the past two years.
“Well, that will be fun, dear. Tell the girls I said hello.”
Genevieve and Nana clinked glasses and continued their meal as the wind rattled the windowpanes. Even with the heat running, the fire in the living room burning, and the heat from the recently used oven, the kitchen had a chill to it. Genevieve shivered as she thought about the impending storm.
After cleaning up the kitchen, Genevieve sat down on the sofa and watched the embers of the fire spark and flame. Her mind drifted to Tim. Tears pricked her eyes, but she wiped them quickly. Not quick enough.
“Are you thinking about that sleazeball again?” Nana raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t deserve a minute of your time.”
Genevieve forced herself to smile. “I know he doesn’t.” She rolled her shoulders, trying to release some tension in her neck. “I just still haven’t gotten over the embarrassment of it all. I mean, we did meet online. Tons of people do that nowadays with no problems. Tons of people marry people they meet online.”
“Nothing for you to be embarrassed about, darling.” Nana wrapped her in a big hug. “How were you to know he was married and had a family?” Nana smoothed Genevieve’s hair back from her face. “He should be ashamed of himself.”
He doesn’t have a conscience. “He’s too much of a jerk to be ashamed.” She sighed. “I just feel so guilty, even though I didn’t know. And I feel like everyone thinks I’m some tart who would actually date a married man.” It was that thought and the thought that she was too stupid to see it that kept her up at night. She didn’t trust herself or her judgement in men anymore.
Nana glowered at her. “No one, and I mean no one, in this town thinks my sweet granddaughter is a tart.”
Well, she may not be in this town, but I’m sure his wife does. If he’d even told her the truth. Who knows if he’d even done that? Genevieve shrugged. “I hope not.” As much as she tried, she couldn’t forget the image of his wife and child standing in the doorway when she went to Tim’s house to surprise him. She swallowed hard. Enough, think about something else. She smiled flimsily. “But onward and upward, right, Nana?”
Nana hugged her. “Onward and upward, baby girl.”
The smell of gardenia swirled around Genevieve as she hugged her grandmother. She breathed her in, soaking up the familiarity and comfort of her grandmother. “Thanks, Nana. I love you.” Nana pulled back from the embrace. “I love you too, dear.” Nana picked her the dainty flowered china teacup that was resting on the side table. She took a sip then smiled. “Now, tell me more about this Gabe fellow.”
Genevieve laughed. “He’s from England and just staying in town for a while at Bramblewood.” She paused. “I didn’t even ask why he came here. He just said he wanted to a change of scenery.” Maybe he has a wife and child at home too. She sighed. Not everyone is Tim. Don’t judge him until you know him.
“Well, there is no better scenery than Forest Grove,” said Nana. “I fell in love with this place the minute I saw it. I knew it was where I wanted to live until I took my last breath.” She sipped her tea. “I’ve never once been tempted to leave.”
Genevieve smiled. “Me either. Forest Grove is home. I’ll never leave.” The thought seemed unfathomable to her. “There is no place like it in all the world.”
Nana smiled. “I agree.” She paused. “We’ll have to make your new friend feel welcome. Once the storm is over, we will get him over here for supper. Welcome him to the neighborhood.”
Genevieve rolled her eyes. “He’s not my friend. He’s just some guy I met at work.”
Nana scowled. “Well, honey, no need to be rude.” She looked knowingly at her granddaughter. “This young man is new, and it’s our responsibility as good citizens of our fair community to welcome him with open arms.” She pointed at Genevieve. “You be nice to that man.”
Genevieve laughed. “Yes, ma’am.” There was no sense in arguing with Nana. She always got the last word and was always right.