Hometown Girl by Courtney Walsh

Hometown Girl by Courtney Walsh

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Author: Courtney Walsh
Genre: Contemporary Romance
File Name: hometown-girl-by-courtney-walsh.epub
Original Title: Hometown Girl
Creator: Courtney Walsh
Language: en
Identifier: MOBI-ASIN:B01N5P75XG
Publisher: Waterfall Press
Date: 1505750400
File Size: 581457.92

Beth Whitaker isn’t supposed to be a small-town girl. She’s always dreamed of leaving Willow Grove, Illinois, for the big city, but she feels trapped, struggling to make up for a mistake that’s haunted her for years. Just when Beth is finally ready to break free, her sister impulsively buys a beloved but run-down farm on the outskirts of town, and she begs Beth to help with the restoration. Reluctantly, Beth agrees to help—and puts her own dreams on hold once again.
Drew Barlow hasn’t been back to Fairwind Farm since he was a boy, and he’s spent all these years trying to outrun the pain of a past he thought he buried long ago. When he learns that the owner has passed away, his heart knows it’s finally time to do the right thing. Returning to Willow Grove, Drew revisits the old farm, where he attempts to piece together his memories and the puzzle of the crime he witnessed so long ago.
Both on a journey to find peace, Beth and Drew are surprised when they begin to experience a restoration of their own. But when long-buried secrets break through the soil and the truth unfurls, will it threaten their budding relationship—and the very future of the farm


Table of Content

  • 1. PRAISE FOR THE AUTHOR “Walsh has penned another endearing novel set in Loves Park, Colo. The emotions are occasionally raw, but always truly real. Readers will root for the characters to discover their potential and realize that love is right in front of them. It takes a little long to get to the point, but the journey is enjoyable.” —RT Reviews, **** “Walsh (A Sweethaven Summer) pens a quaint, smalltown love story, complete with an overbearing mother, an unscrupulous business partner, and a group of busybodies whose hearts are in the right place even if their actions are questionable. While certain elements are predictable, Walsh develops enough plot twists to make this enjoyable to the end.” —Publishers Weekly “Heartwarming! Paper Hearts is as much a treat as the delicious coffee the heroine serves in her bookshop. Courtney Walsh’s warm author’s voice tells a story of a doctor and a bookstore owner, both living in a town centered on romance, yet both disillusioned by love. Like the m
  • 2. Unnamed
  • 3. ALSO BY COURTNEY WALSH Just Look Up Paper Hearts Change of Heart A Sweethaven Summer A Sweethaven Homecoming A Sweethaven Christmas A Sweethaven Romance
  • 4. Unnamed
  • 5. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Text copyright © 2017 by Courtney Walsh All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher. Published by Waterfall Press, Grand Haven, MI. www.brilliancepublishing.com Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Waterfall Press are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates. ISBN-13: 9781542045636 ISBN-10: 1542045630 Cover design by Janet Perr
  • 6. For my dear friend Natalie Emenecker, with whom I share a love of Jesus, kids, theatre and romance. And who was gracious enough to share the name of her family farm for my fictional purposes in writing this book. Your real-life Fairwind Farm is full of the peace and simplicity this old soul needs. Thank you for sharing it with me and for being my friend.
  • 7. CONTENTS Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One AUTHOR’S NOTE ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  • 8. Chapter One Beth Whitaker hated flowers. Sure, they were pretty, and some of them even smelled good. The right assortment could dress up a dinner table, and she could appreciate how each one was different. But flowers were a sign of weakness. And death. People brought flowers to gravesites and hospital rooms. One of her earliest memories was being pulled out of kindergarten to attend her great-grandmother’s funeral. She didn’t remember the way Grandma had looked in the casket or who else had been there, but she distinctly remembered the smell of the flowers. It was the same smell that had filled Mom’s hospital room ten months ago. Floral sympathy left as sour a taste in her mouth as floral courtship. Pining over some man, waiting for him to bring flowers for no reason. Weakness. Now Beth sat in the small exam room, waiting for Dr. Berry to check on her mother. The checkup they’d been waiting for, the one that told them her mom had recovered from her stroke. But Beth knew better. After
  • 9. Chapter Two “My horse won’t go faster.” The whine seeped under Drew Barlow’s skin. He’d led a lot of trail rides, and he could usually tolerate the complaining, but if this kid dug his heels into Juniper’s sides one more time . . . “The horse isn’t supposed to go faster, kid,” Drew said. “She’s trained to stay behind mine.” “This is boring.” Drew blew out a stream of hot air. He took in a fresh breath and cast his eyes toward the Rockies. There. That was the reason he stayed on at the dude ranch every year. That and the seclusion of the off months. “Are we almost done? My horse is broken.” Lucky for the kid, they were almost done. Otherwise, Drew might’ve swatted Juniper on the backside and sent her off to show him how not-boring horseback riding could be. Up the hill and around the bend, Elkhorn Ranch came into sight. Elkhorn had been his home now for four years, and the owners, Doug and Cheryl McClain, liked Drew so much they made room for him year-round. He didn’t make much money, b
  • 10. Chapter Three The following day, Beth arrived at work promptly at 8:00 a.m., same as always. She’d worked at Whitaker Mowers throughout high school, but she’d never expected to stay around Willow Grove after college. After she’d been passed over for a job in the city, she’d graduated and come back home to get her bearings. Then she’d found out about Michael. Her dad had reluctantly made room for her at Whitaker—to proofread ad copy, get coffee and restock the office supplies. By all accounts, she was a glorified secretary. He’d been against the idea from the start. “She needs to move past this or it’s going to define her,” she’d overheard him telling her mother. “She should move into the city and find a job there. Willow Grove is too small for someone like Beth.” He’d wanted so much more for her. More than struggling as a starving artist. More than a small, simple life. Never mind that he’d chosen this life after years of working in downtown Chicago himself. Somehow, he’d convinced her
  • 11. Chapter Four Whitaker family meetings were reserved for important family events. Dad’s will. Mom’s care. Their trusts. They weren’t typically called to discuss individual life events, but the day after Molly had summoned her to Fairwind Farm, Beth decided to call their oldest brother, Ben, to get everything out in the open. Ben rarely made it back to Willow Grove. After his career in professional baseball had ended, he’d made a life in the city—and he didn’t like the attention he got when he was home. But this was an emergency, and Beth needed his support. “Is it too much to hope you’ve called this meeting to tell me you’re in on my new plan?” Molly’s eyes practically sparkled with expectation. “I told you it wasn’t likely I’d change my mind.” Beth pulled two cans of beans from the cupboard. Molly stared at her sister. “Why do I feel like you tattled on me?” “I didn’t tattle, Molly. I just thought it would be good to have Ben’s input.” “And mine.” Their mom sat at the table with an afg
  • 12. Chapter Five Butler’s Bake Shop sat smack at the center of downtown Willow Grove. On either side of Town Hall Road, visitors perused boutiques, antiques and historical buildings. Cafés and sweet shops, like the old-fashioned ice cream parlor on the corner, drew tourists in from the city and beyond. But the locals preferred Butler’s. It was quaint without being overly charming, the kind of place the hometown crowd could appreciate. And for Beth, Butler’s was chock-full of memories. Being the best friend of the owners’ daughter, she’d practically grown up sitting on the last bar stool, closest to the kitchen, a plate of freshly made french fries between her and Callie. They’d watch Callie’s parents, JimBob and Verna Butler, maneuver their way from the kitchen to the main floor, chatting up their loyal patrons. If Beth didn’t know better, she’d almost think JimBob and Verna had no interest in appealing to tourists. They’d done little to keep the place updated, and they didn’t even have a
  • 13. Chapter Six When Drew had wandered into Butler’s Bake Shop, he’d hoped for a quiet breakfast to collect his thoughts. He quickly realized he’d picked the wrong place for that. According to the town gossips, Fairwind had already been sold. Worse, it had been sold to two nostalgic sisters who wanted to restore the old place and “give the town back their farm.” For a minute, he’d almost felt like he’d been at a Save Our Farm rally, the way they were carrying on. But all he could see was the potential for danger. The idea of Fairwind reopening, bringing in busloads of unsupervised children, set something off inside him. Panic? Everyone seemed intent on remembering Fairwind before tragedy had hit. Had they all blocked out the reason the farm eventually went under? He found Roxie patiently waiting for him in the passenger seat of his truck. “You wanna walk, girl?” He hooked a leash onto her collar, much to her dismay. “Sorry, Rox. City rules are different than country rules.” As if he could
  • 14. Chapter Seven Beth sat at her desk, latte in front of her, and prepared for another monotonous day at Whitaker Mowers. She didn’t often stop by Butler’s on her way to work, and she certainly didn’t drive to the office by way of Fairwind Farm, but after the week she’d had, she’d wanted to indulge herself a little. Instead, she’d been accosted by craziness. Darren Sanders, her father’s right-hand man, strolled through the office and stopped at her door. “Beth. You got a minute?” She glanced down at the sketch she’d been absentmindedly doodling in her notebook. The hand-drawn image of a large farmhouse with a wraparound porch stared back at her. Surely she’d lost her mind. “Sure.” He closed her door and sat down across from her. “How are you?” She’d been fine before he walked in, but now she felt uneasy. In all the years she’d been working at Whitaker, Darren had never once sat down in her office. “I’m fine, sir.” “Mother’s doing better, I hear?” “She’s recovering, yes.” “Good.” He looked
  • 15. Chapter Eight Drew ran at breakneck speed down the hill and into the barn. He could hear Jess behind him, laughing. “I’m gonna get you, Drew Barlow!” She’d never find him in here. She hated climbing the wobbly old ladder. The smell of hay and earth met him, but he barely noticed. Ran for the ladder and pulled himself up into the loft, where he ducked out of sight and waited for her to appear in the doorway below. At the sight of her shadow, he ducked lower, peering down at her from behind the bales of hay. “Drew, no fair! You know I don’t like this barn.” He stifled a laugh. He had her now. No way she’d win this time. She moved through the dusty space, searching in each stall, and then he heard it. A car door right outside. “Drew?” Fear echoed in Jess’s voice. Another shadow appeared in the doorway, and Drew stood. “I’m up here, Jess.” He rushed down. Before he could reach her, something came at him from behind, knocked him to the ground. The smell of hay and earth filled his nose agai
  • 16. Chapter Nine Beth stood in front of the crowd that had gathered in the old barn, looking out over a sea of friendly, excited faces. She wiped her sweaty palms on the sides of her jeans, realizing she was more nervous than she should be. She’d lived in Willow Grove her entire life. Most of these people had known her that long—but maybe that was part of what made her pulse race. Would anyone take them seriously if they’d known them when they were little kids running around the playground at Page Park? Worse, what about the people (person) who didn’t know her then? What was Mr. Handsome from the diner doing here? He sat in the back row, quiet, unassuming. She could feel him watching her, studying her. It made her feel wobbly. “He’s totally into you,” Molly said as she passed behind her. “Will you stop it?” Beth waved her off. “We need to start.” “You’re the pro.” Molly motioned for Beth to take the stage. “His name’s Drew, by the way.” Beth glared at her. “Focus.” They’d been up almost th
  • 17. Chapter Ten Outside, Drew watched as people gathered rakes and hoes and trash cans from their cars, each moving purposefully toward whatever task they’d been assigned. He’d slipped out without a job, not quite ready to sign on to anything until he saw the old place for himself. Fairwind had changed. Twenty years, what did he expect? Behind the main barn, he could see the roofs of the outbuildings, outlined by trees whose leaves had filled out nicely for spring. He walked the same path he’d walked so many times as a boy, only this time he walked it alone. All those years ago, Jess had been right on his heels. “Keep an eye on her, Drew,” his dad had called after them. Drew had waved to let them know he’d heard. Of course he’d keep an eye on her; they weren’t interested in anyone else on the farm—and he needed Jess to remind him where the best fishing spots were. That’s how they’d spent their days. Fishing in the lake. Catching grasshoppers. Hide-and-seek. Bonfires. Everything had seemed
  • 18. Chapter Eleven Why did she even bother? Beth trudged back to the barn, feeling like an idiot for trying to talk to Mr. Fix-It at all. He obviously had the conversational skills of a monkey, but she’d kept asking him questions, as if at some point he’d quit with the perfunctory answers and actually share something about himself. Beth made her way to where the crowd had started to gather around the food. They hadn’t even rung a bell or anything; just the smell of the burgers lured people in from all different parts of the farm. Callie met her by one of the food tables, eyes wide, waiting for some explanation. She’d been the one to talk Beth into taking Drew the plate in the first place. So this was her fault, really. Beth felt stupid. A serial killer? Really? Just because he was grumpy and reclusive didn’t mean he was a sociopath. And even though she’d been half kidding, her sarcasm seemed lost in his reaction. “No-go?” Callie followed her into the kitchen. “What do you mean?” Beth reach
  • 19. Chapter Twelve Beth’s body was tired, but her mind worked overtime. The Community Work Day had come together quickly, and she hadn’t sat down once. Her feet and back ached, and even though she’d washed her hands three times, there was still dirt underneath her fingernails. The day had been a success. It was clear that, somehow, she and Molly had sparked a ripple of excitement in the hearts of the people of Willow Grove. However, it was also clear they were in way over their heads. And that continued to nag her. Ben’s ultimatum hung thick in the crisp night air above the bonfire, where several people huddled under blankets, toasting marshmallows and enjoying the songs strummed on Bishop’s guitar. Beth settled into the quiet away from the crowd as Molly attempted to wave her over. When Beth didn’t respond, her sister strolled her way. “You’re missing all the fun,” she said. “I know,” Beth admitted. “Come hang out. Pretend you don’t have anything to worry about.” Molly grabbed her hand an
  • 20. Chapter Thirteen Sunday morning came hard and fast. Before Beth even opened her eyes, she could feel that the aches in her feet and back had traveled to all of her extremities. She did her best work behind a desk at a computer, not in a field hauling branches bigger than her. She rolled over and let out a slight groan. “Stinks to be out of shape, doesn’t it?” Beth opened her eyes to find her sister standing in her room with two steaming mugs of coffee that smelled like heaven. “What are you doing up so early? And in my room? And dressed up?” “It’s Sunday. Church.” Beth rolled over. It had been their tradition for as long as she could remember, but somehow she’d thought she might get a free pass today—she wasn’t sure she could move. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead.” Obviously her sister had other plans. Ever since Beth had moved back in with their mom, Molly had insisted on coming over early every Sunday morning. Even when their mother was nearly immobile, they found a way to cart her to ch
  • 21. Chapter Fourteen Beth went to Whitaker Mowers Sunday afternoon and cleaned out her office, quietly leaving a resignation letter on Darren’s desk. As she closed the door behind her for the last time, she was struck by an unexpected sense of freedom—not sadness—that she wouldn’t be back. After her time in the chapel, she felt more willing to jump into this renovation project with both feet . . . even if it wasn’t the smart thing to do. Once she’d finished dinner that night, she and Molly retreated to Beth’s room and ran through the “what was next” of the whole project, clarifying their roles and talking through their plans. “How involved are you wanting me to be here? Do you want me to be a silent partner and just give you money?” Beth asked, surprised to find herself hoping that wasn’t what her sister wanted. “No way.” Molly propped herself up on her elbows. “I want you to manage the whole project. You’re the business mind. I’m just the looks.” She sprawled out and purposely gave hersel
  • 22. Chapter Fifteen Drew practically ran away from Beth, away from the house, away from the past. He’d seen the old barn in his dreams the night before. He could smell it, and when he’d woken that morning, a torrent of anger flooded his mind. Why couldn’t he remember? What couldn’t he see? He’d spent hours sweeping and cleaning it out Saturday, and it had done nothing to stir the old memories. Today, walking through the woods, the barn seemed to call his name, begging him to come in for one more try. Foolishly, he thought the past would give him the answers he’d been waiting for. But as he stood there, begging for the truth, his mind was blank. Too much time had passed. He’d felt like an idiot for trying. Why did he think he would ever find closure? In that moment, he’d considered leaving. He could get in his truck and drive back to Colorado. It would be like he’d never even come. But something had gotten ahold of him—something wouldn’t let him leave. So, he took the job. If he had any hop
  • 23. Chapter Sixteen “A sheep, Molly?” Beth stormed toward the farmhouse and followed Molly inside. “What were you thinking?” “I was thinking this is a farm. It needs animals.” Molly leaned against the kitchen counter. She ignored the piles of dishes behind her, which Beth had pulled out of the cupboards for damage assessment. “We agreed we weren’t going to make any decisions without consulting each other,” Beth said. “That’s the only way this can work.” She pulled her yellow dish gloves back on and knelt down in front of the fridge. Molly sighed. “I got a really good deal on her. I couldn’t pass it up.” “How do you know what constitutes a ‘good deal’ on a sheep?” Beth took her frustration out on a nasty stain in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator. She’d moved her cleaning efforts indoors when she realized she didn’t have the muscle strength to do any good outside. “She was free. I’d say that’s a pretty good deal.” “What are we going to do with a sheep?” Molly reached into the Butler’s b
  • 24. Chapter Seventeen Drew’s first night sleeping in the farmhouse was restless and strange. His mind played tricks on him in the darkness, and the house creaked in the wind. In the morning, he’d given his chore list to Beth and went outside to work while she looked it over. She’d brought coffee and pastries again, and he thanked her, unsure how to process her kindness. He’d started the week expecting Fairwind to yank away every brick he’d carefully built around his heart, but as the days wore on, something unexpected happened. Yes, the nightmares still plagued his sleepless nights, and yes, he spent too much time trying to force the memories he’d worked for years to forget, but his days weren’t spent in quiet solitude the way they usually were. At Elkhorn, he’d been pretty much left alone, with the occasional interaction with guests or other ranch hands. Here, though, there were always people around. Molly, Beth, their friends. By the end of the week, he knew all their names. They drank c
  • 25. Chapter Eighteen It had been a week and a half since Beth and Molly hired Drew, and he’d been working with a skeleton crew of volunteers who showed up when they could. Still, he’d made considerable progress on the main barn and inside the farmhouse. Every morning when she arrived with coffee and Danishes, Beth knocked on the side door and he let her in. She set up a makeshift office in the kitchen, giving her a somewhat obstructed view of the yard, where she could watch him work. He never stopped. Even when the volunteers stopped, he kept going. He hardly even took a lunch break. As an employer, she was thrilled. As a person, she was concerned. She’d start on paperwork, but she almost always ended up in the yard, though she often felt a little useless out there. Now, she sat in the kitchen with papers spread out across the table. Numbers stared back at her, daring her to calculate them again, as if they might give her a different answer this time. She’d taken Drew’s estimates and run t
  • 26. Chapter Nineteen Monday morning, the beginning of their fourth week of work, Beth sat in her car in the parking lot of Willow Grove Community Bank, replaying the meeting she’d just had with Linda Dorset, the loan officer she’d been working with for years. A loan officer who knew her personally as well as professionally—Whitaker Mowers did a lot of business with the bank. Why, then, had Linda chosen now as the time to get stingy? While a loan was just about the last thing in the world Beth wanted, she’d owed it to herself to at least explore the possibility—only she’d discovered it wasn’t one at all. Drew had been working at the farm for two full weeks, and he’d done just about everything he could on his own. They’d had a steady stream of volunteers, but he’d politely asked for skilled help. She’d agreed, and as with everything else he did, Drew wasted no time assembling a crew of possible workers, many of whom she knew. But she had no idea how she would pay them. And no idea how to bre
  • 27. Chapter Twenty Evenings at Fairwind Farm were too quiet. Drew had spent the last three weeks surrounded by people—volunteers, and now his crew of guys—but when the sun went down and the place was covered in moonlight, that’s when his mind played tricks on him. That’s when the real nightmares started. He’d cleaned the old farmhouse, repaired broken doors and cabinets. Two nights ago, he’d fixed the downstairs toilet, and next week, he’d paint the walls, then refinish the floors. Now, with another day waning, he used the old hand-pump well behind the farmhouse to clean up. Beth stood off in the distance, watering the seeds she’d planted in the raised beds. She wore cutoff shorts, a white tank top and a button-down shirt tied in a knot at the side. And that goofy-looking garden hat she’d found in the house. He couldn’t decide if she looked ridiculous or adorable. He’d seen the magazine clippings in Beth’s notebook on the table when his mind had been especially anxious. He’d needed a proje
  • 28. Chapter Twenty-One At the beginning of their fourth week of working together, Beth arrived at the farm with coffee and pastries, but Drew was already out in the field, working. She watched for chances to talk to him throughout the day, but he seemed to purposely make himself scarce. By the time she left that evening, she’d given up and left him a note with questions about the orchard and when they could meet with an expert, something that had been near the top of their list since they’d started. The following morning, she arrived with Molly and Callie, who’d agreed to help with the Fairwind Farm Market. When she knocked on the side door of the farmhouse, there was no answer, and she could only assume Drew was already outside somewhere. Never mind that up until yesterday he’d always waited to get to work until they touched base in the mornings. She’d grown to enjoy their little tradition. What had changed? She pushed the door open. “Why don’t we get started in here?” she said to Molly a
  • 29. Chapter Twenty-Two “Well, that was hot.” Callie handed Beth a bag of ice for her throbbing hand. “Me punching a guy in the face?” “No, Drew saving you like that.” She let out a breathy sigh, walking just a few steps behind Beth on her way back to the farmhouse. “He didn’t save me,” Beth said. “I’m the one who punched that loser.” Callie jogged ahead of her and opened the side door leading back to the kitchen table, where they probably should’ve stayed put all along. “He’s the one who got him out. For you. I think he likes you.” “I’m sure he would’ve done the same thing for any of us, Callie. He’s a gentleman.” “Yeah, but he wouldn’t have had that look in his eyes if it were me or Molly.” “What look?” Callie’s brows raised. “You must’ve seen it. I think it can only be described as passion.” Beth rolled her eyes. “You read too many trashy romance novels.” “I’m telling you. There’s something there.” “Well, I disagree. Can we get back to work?” Callie reluctantly agreed, and they spent the
  • 30. Chapter Twenty-Three Downtown Willow Grove bustled with activity on Saturday morning. The high school’s senior class was throwing their annual school carnival and bake sale, the last big event before tourists took over their little town. Locals came out in droves to support the event, partly for nostalgic reasons and partly to raise funds for whatever the graduating class decided the school needed most. This year, they wanted a new scoreboard for the football field. Beatty Park, with its open fields and ample shade, had proved to be the best place in town for an event like this, complete with carnival rides, games and local food vendors who showed up early to aid a worthy cause. Though Beth was exhausted, she knew showing her face at the carnival was important. These were the same people she hoped would support not only their barn sale, but the farm itself. Besides, she couldn’t miss the carnival. It was a tradition. She loved the artistic spin the Willow Grove locals put on a school f
  • 31. Chapter Twenty-Four So she was human. Drew had started to wonder. Listening to Beth unload the baggage she’d been carrying around had been a sort of therapy for him. Somehow, knowing he wasn’t the only one with massive regret weighing him down had done him good. It would probably do her good too, to know that she wasn’t alone, but he just couldn’t go there. Not yet. Probably not ever. Not only had he kept the truth from her, but the truth was awful. Working didn’t dull the pain of it anymore, not the way it used to. What would he do if he couldn’t find a way to keep the thoughts at bay? He’d spent hours in Harold’s hidden room. He’d read and reread every scrap of paper the old man had collected over the years. Nothing but nightmares came. Now, standing in the seats outside the band shell, waiting for Beth, he wondered if it was time to get back to his real life. Back to Colorado, where at least he wouldn’t be faced with the memory of Jess every time he walked outside. “Do you have time
  • 32. Chapter Twenty-Five “I really can’t believe this woman would continue to use the barn knowing there were new owners. It’s just common sense, really. And how did she stay hidden this whole time? We’re out in the yard nonstop. What barn is she using?” Beth prattled on as Drew drove in silence, two barking dogs in the bed of his truck. He wished he had a way to warn Birdie she was about to be evicted, though he had reason to believe the woman would not go quietly. And if she let on that he knew she was there, what then? Would Beth kick him out too? His mind spun with excuses. He should just come clean. He should tell her everything—that he knew about Birdie but didn’t have the heart to make her leave, partly because she was the only person he’d met who’d been around at the time Jess went missing. But an admission like that would require the whole truth—not just about Birdie, but about why he was there in the first place. And he wasn’t ready to get into all of that. He didn’t want to show
  • 33. Chapter Twenty-Six Beth sat on the steps, trying to calm her competitive self down after the adrenaline rush of racing Drew back to the farm. If she could look like she’d been waiting a while by the time he finally arrived, all the better. When his truck appeared on the gravel road, she steadied her breathing, certain it would be her last chance to do so until she left the farm that night. “What kind of crazy driver are you?” He flashed one of his rare, genuine smiles. A part of her felt honored he’d saved it for her. Unlike Beth, who was serious by nature, Drew had a playfulness about him. She saw it sometimes in their back-and-forth banter, but he always seemed to catch himself and shut it down. Like he didn’t think it was right to show her (or anyone else) that side of himself. But then, didn’t she do the same, always insisting on being professional and proper? Hadn’t that earned her the Ice Queen nickname? She drove people away. “My dad used to drag race.” Beth attempted to keep he
  • 34. Chapter Twenty-Seven What had he done? Drew closed the door behind Beth, wishing he could pull her back inside and tell her everything. Every moment he stayed quiet only put more distance between them. He knew it, so why hadn’t he just explained everything? He had much more to lose than he’d thought he did. Birdie had seen it—why hadn’t he? “When are you going to tell her how you feel?” She’d dotted her paintbrush on the canvas in front of her. “About what?” She’d tossed the brush into the jar of paint water and glared at him over the top of those reading glasses she wore. “Don’t play dumb with me.” “She’s my boss.” “And?” “I don’t have feelings for her. I respect her, but that’s all.” “You’re either lying to yourself or lying to me or both.” Birdie had shaken her head, tsk-tsking him as she did. “I just hope you wake up before it’s too late. That girl won’t be around forever.” Maybe he’d been chewing on the whole idea a little more than he should’ve been. As it was, Beth was just abou
  • 35. Chapter Twenty-Eight The nerve of that guy. Beth stormed out of Davis Biddle’s ostentatious mansion—which had no business in Willow Grove at all—and drove in silence back to the farm. This man, this cunning businessman, had a reputation of brilliance. Why then would he want to buy Fairwind but not invest in it, especially when, as she saw it, he’d already invested so much in the upkeep of the orchards all these years? It didn’t make sense. To make matters (and her mood) worse, Drew hadn’t said a word about yesterday. And he’d given her no indication that a kiss like that would ever happen again. The thought of it lodged a lump in the center of her throat. They pulled into Fairwind’s parking lot and found Molly sweeping out the main barn, no doubt preparing for the Fairwind Farm Market, which was now only a few weeks away. They’d begun collecting items from the house and other barns, and soon they’d assemble it all together in a nicely ordered booth for people to browse. “How’d it go?”
  • 36. Chapter Twenty-Nine The next day, when she arrived, Beth knocked on the front door again. Drew had made up his mind not to be so distant with her today—even if it seemed awkward. Yesterday had been brutal, and not knowing where he stood with her was killing him. He’d figure out a way to tell her who he really was tonight. He owed her that much. He pulled the door open and found her eyes, which asked permission to come in. One look at her and his self-control unraveled. “Good morning.” She shoved a coffee at him. “Good morning.” He took the cup. “Listen, can you tell me what’s going on here?” She motioned at herself, then at him. She’d taken on her business tone, same one he’d witnessed when she talked to Davis Biddle. He watched her for a few long seconds until she looked at him again. He couldn’t help it—he smiled. “You’re smiling.” “You’re cute when you’re confrontational.” She gave his shoulder a shove, and he held on to her wrist, pulling her close. “I’m serious,” she said. “I can’
  • 37. Chapter Thirty Drew stared at her, pain radiating behind his icy blue eyes. He looked at her, then at the photo in her hands, then to the room where she sat—a tiny room she hadn’t intended to find. When she’d cleared away the clothes, there it was—and what she saw inside looked like the work of a madman. “This is why you’re here.” He turned away, took his hat off and raked a hand through his hair. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.” “You could’ve told me weeks ago.” She scanned the wall of photos, newspaper clippings and random scribblings on napkins. Most of the items were old and weathered, undoubtedly the work of Harold Pendergast. But some of those things, like Davis Biddle’s business card, were brand-new. Those things told her Drew not only knew about the secret room, he knew about the wall. He’d contributed to it. Was he a madman too? Beth waited for an explanation, but as usual, Drew seemed unable, or unwilling, to speak. She stood and walked toward him. “Drew, what’s goi
  • 38. Chapter Thirty-One The emptiness of the farmhouse seeped into the loneliest parts of Beth’s soul. After too many long minutes crying on the floor of the hidden room, her phone rang, forcing her to pull herself together. A number she didn’t recognize showed up on the caller ID. “Hello?” “Beth? It’s Dina. I just got your email about the barn sale.” Beth had sent that email weeks ago. “It got lost in our server—long story—anyway, I had my team work something up. A logo, a website and an ad campaign. Look it over and send me the names of the vendors so I can put the finishing touches on it and make it live. I would say send me your changes, but the sale is in just a couple of weeks. We should probably just go with it as it is.” “Dina, you shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble.” She thought about the gossip she’d heard and wondered if it was true. And if Harrison was leaving her, how was Dina handling it? Her own heart ached at the thought of losing Drew—and their relationship had barely
  • 39. Chapter Thirty-Two Drew sat in a folding chair across from Bishop’s desk at the Willow Grove Police Station, waiting for the officer to return from patrol. Four desks were positioned in haphazard fashion around the room, and he was pretty sure the woman who’d escorted him back here still stared at him from her desk at the entrance, but he pretended not to notice. She seemed to think Bishop would be right back, but Drew had already been waiting fifteen minutes, and there was no indication Bishop even knew he had a visitor. Every so often, the police scanner came to life. In the time he’d been sitting there, he’d heard reports of a stray dog running down the highway and the ice cream truck’s new route. This place likely never saw much excitement, but he supposed that’s how most of the people who lived here preferred it. Outside, the sky had grown dark, no trace of blue underneath the thick gray clouds. “Hope your windows aren’t down,” the woman called back. She stood at the front window.
  • 40. Chapter Thirty-Three After half an hour underneath the pews, Beth could tell the rain had mostly stopped. The thunder and lightning seemed to have moved on, but neither she nor Drew moved. At some point during the storm, he’d pulled her closer, enveloping her in his arms, and now, still lying beside him, hand resting calmly on his chest, she wished they could continue to hide away. But they had to face reality at some point. “I suppose we should go check on the farm.” Dread resonated in his voice. All that work—his work—was on the line. “Not knowing is worse than facing it.” Somehow she had the feeling he wasn’t talking only about the damage from the storm. She drew in a deep breath, then inched her way out of his arms. “I guess you’re right.” He scooted out from under the pew and stood, staring at her. They’d hardly spoken since he’d arrived, opting instead to listen to the storm as it beat on the sides of the chapel, praying the roof wouldn’t cave. But now, when she looked at him, sh
  • 41. Chapter Thirty-Four Beth stood on the porch, watching as Ben’s truck pulled into the parking lot next to her Audi. Moments later, Molly’s VW Bug appeared at the farm’s entry. A Whitaker family meeting was in order, and Beth had a feeling it wouldn’t go smoothly. Yesterday’s storm had upended their plans, and her brother and sister needed to see it for themselves. She and Drew hadn’t discussed the future of the farm. He’d spent every waking minute since they’d left the chapel clearing away the debris that had rained down on their beloved Fairwind. Never in her life had she known someone to work with such diligence, especially for something that wasn’t his. Why couldn’t they just crawl back underneath the chapel pew and pretend none of this was happening? Molly and Bishop got out of the VW as Ben opened the door of his truck. Under different circumstances, it might have been a nice gathering. Beth greeted everyone, the mood decidedly somber. “I asked Callie to join us too,” she said, wat
  • 42. Chapter Thirty-Five Beth sat in one of two Adirondack chairs she’d salvaged after the storm, staring at the empty fire pit and trying to figure out how to let the farm go. Why had God chosen to take this away from her, just when she’d begun to love it? She didn’t understand it, but she chose to trust He had a plan. In the past, she’d been so angry when things didn’t go her way—if she’d learned anything, it was that anger had turned her into someone she didn’t want to be. Her phone rang, and she saw Dina’s name on her screen. Beth hadn’t told her the barn sale was off. And she’d probably been working round the clock to spread the word. Beth let out a heavy sigh, then clicked the phone on. “Hey, Dina.” “Beth, have you had a chance to check your email? I’d love to know what you think of the mock-ups. And you’ll be happy to know Midwest Living and Country Life agreed to promote the sale online in exchange for advertising, which I’d be willing to donate.” “Dina, you don’t have to do that.”
  • 43. Chapter Thirty-Six Beth had been sitting in the kitchen when she saw the squad car pull in. She imagined Molly had hitched a ride out to the farm, but when Bishop got out of the car alone, she realized this wasn’t a social call. She met him on the porch, noticing the manila envelope in his hand. “What’s wrong? You look freaked out.” Beth moved aside so he could come in. “Remember how there was a witness to Jess’s kidnapping?” He knew about Drew. Beth took a deep breath. “I already know, Bishop.” “And you didn’t tell me?” “I’ve been a little busy with a tornado and the crushing of my dreams.” She sat down at the table. “Well, now you just sound like your sister.” Beth rolled her eyes. “What is there to tell? He witnessed something terrible twenty years ago. He was a kid.” “So why’s he here now?” Beth had wanted that question answered so many times, but this time, she chose to trust. “I don’t know yet.” “I think I might.” Bishop was paid to be suspicious. “He was at the station the day o
  • 44. Chapter Thirty-Seven “Was his face long or round?” Drew squinted. “Round. Pudgy. And he had freckles across the top of his nose and cheeks.” Beth sketched, feeling rusty. “I feel like someone else would be better at this.” “It doesn’t have to be perfect, remember?” But it felt like it did. There was so much riding on this. She listened closely as he told her what he remembered. Every once in a while, he’d get quiet, lost in a memory. She’d wait patiently for him to continue, praying this brought him the closure he needed. “Have you ever told anyone about any of this?” She kept her gaze on the sketch pad as she shaded the man’s left eyebrow. “No.” The one word said so much. He’d bottled it up all these years, but he’d trusted her enough to break his silence. “I’m glad you told me.” “I am too.” She prayed he saw that self-preservation, not cowardice, had driven him to bury these memories. That lie he’d believed had robbed him of years of living. Beth stopped shading the face of a pudgy m
  • 45. Chapter Thirty-Eight Birdie’s words hung in the air. Beth paced the kitchen floor, feeling like they had to piece together puzzles from two separate boxes. She recounted her conversations with Davis to Bishop, who scribbled notes in a little black notebook he pulled from his back pocket. Molly showed up at the door, confusion all over her pale face. “Bishop said you were all out here. Why didn’t you call me sooner? Was there a break in the case?” Beth ignored her. Not the time to be dramatic. “Why are we just standing around?” Drew paced the same six feet of the white linoleum, his brow knit. “I want to have all the facts so we don’t barge in half-cocked,” Bishop said. “Molly, I need you to tell me everything that happened the day Davis Biddle’s assistant gave you that business card.” Molly went over it again. “He obviously wants this property for something,” Beth said. “He’s gone to a lot of trouble to make that clear.” He’d made offers before and after the storm. Good offers that any
  • 46. Chapter Thirty-Nine Beth called Davis and asked to see him right away. She explained that they were desperate and had made a decision, but they had a few questions before they could finalize the deal. As expected, he invited her right over. She and Drew arrived ten minutes later, with the understanding that Bishop would come after twenty minutes. Knowing Molly, she’d likely sneak into the back seat of the squad car when he wasn’t looking—to her, this was all terribly exciting. To Beth, it was nauseating. Her stomach rolled as Drew shut off the truck’s engine. “You okay?” he asked. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” “I’ll be okay,” he said. “Long as you’re okay.” “What if Monty was a tool his father used?” Beth asked before they got out of the truck. “What if Monty delivered Jess to his father?” Drew looked away. Thinking about it had to hurt. Walking in there, asking questions—all of it would hurt. She hated that he had to go through this. They walked to the door, which opened before th
  • 47. Chapter Forty Drew stood in the driveway of the Biddle estate, watching as officers led Davis and Monty to squad cars whose lights shined flashes of red out into the darkness. He was weary and worn, and Beth was at his side, where she’d been the entire night. She wound her arms around his waist and let her head fall to his chest. “It’s over.” He liked the way she fit perfectly in his arms, as if they’d been made to go together. Could he ever let her in the way he wanted to? He kissed her forehead, and she lifted her chin, found his eyes. “What is it?” He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised she could sense that he was still unsettled. He loved her for that. He loved that he wanted to tell her instead of burying his feelings, giving them the ability to haunt him later. “All this time, I knew Jess was gone,” Drew said. “I guess I just expected to keep on hating the man who killed her. But now that I know who he is—I sort of feel sorry for him.” Beth leaned into him and wrapped her arms mor
  • 48. Chapter Forty-One Two Fridays later, the day before the Fairwind Farm Market, Beth awoke early. Her nerves kicked up when she realized the weight of what lay in front of her. Today would not be like every other Friday. This weekend would not be like every other weekend. Special moments deserved to be amplified, so Beth made a conscious effort to do that. Every day that week, members of the Willow Grove community had joined them on the farm, rebuilding what the storm had stolen and helping them set up for the sale. She’d been woefully absent from the preparations, deciding instead to focus her attention on something possibly even more important than saving their dreams for Fairwind Farm. Still, sacrifices were being made on their behalf—the weight of that didn’t escape her. She’d become a part of this community, not because she was a disappointment who had no other option, but because she loved it here. This was exactly where she belonged. Now, she walked practically on tiptoes, careful
  • 49. AUTHOR’S NOTE Dear Reader, I love writing stories. I love everything about it except the parts where I get stuck. I love dreaming up names for people who will become so real to me in my own mind, I almost forget they don’t live next door. I love creating a new town and filling it with people, and I especially love pulling in elements from my own life along the way. I first had the idea for Hometown Girl when I was visiting an apple orchard about an hour from my hometown in Illinois. I’m a Midwest girl through and through, and apple orchards are a staple in my world. Every fall, we make at least one trip to the orchard for cider and apples and our favorite, apple-cider donuts. If you’ve never been to an orchard, you may not be able to fully appreciate the ridiculously delicious taste (and smell) of an apple-cider donut, but truly, there is nothing like it. And if you can get it warm and fresh—well, you might as well just freeze time right there. I loved the idea of exploring family rela
  • 50. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS It’s with the utmost gratitude I offer thanks . . . To my sweet family, who cheer me on, celebrate my successes and don’t complain too much when I announce it’s “fend-for-yourself night” for dinner. Again. To Adam, you are everything. It’s your creativity that inspires me, your encouragement that pushes me forward and your kindness that makes me better in every way. Thank you for loving me. To my kids, Sophia, Ethan and Sam. I just love you all with every fiber of my being. And I’m so thankful I get to be your mom. To my parents, Bob and Cindy Fassler, who still pray for me and who have always taught me so well. To my sister, Carrie Erikson, who helps me learn more about Jesus just by living her life. I’m so grateful for the uncontrollable belly laughs (you are the loudest!), the violent sneezes, the encouragement and the wisdom you share with me. I am grateful to have you for a best friend. To the Emenecker family: Trent, Natalie, Alex, Addison, JT and Tyler, for answe
  • 51. ABOUT THE AUTHOR New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Courtney Walsh is a novelist, artist, theatre director, and playwright. Hometown Girl is her seventh novel. Her debut novel, A Sweethaven Summer, was a Carol Award finalist in the debut author category. She has written two additional books and a novella in the Sweethaven series, as well as three small-town romance novels: Paper Hearts, Change of Heart, and Just Look Up. She lives in Illinois, where she and her husband own a performing arts studio and youth theatre. They have three children. Visit her online at www.courtneywalshwrites.com.

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