Home For Keeps

Grace immediately thought about checking out Nellie’s Treasures as she’d vowed to do the other day. Then again, Nellie was only one person. And she was already a resident.

“Any suggestions of where I can meet a lot of people at once?”

“There’s a fund-raiser social being given by the Ladies Auxiliary of First Presbyterian Church the weekend after next. They’re raising money for a new air-conditioning system for the church offices. And this Wednesday is Pancake Day. You definitely should go to that to meet people.”

“Pancake Day?”

“The Sparrow Lake Creamery and Dairymen’s Association have a Pancake Day every year during the kids’ spring vacation so everyone can come. It gets townspeople invested in supporting the local dairy industry—the butter and cream and milk produced in this area.”

“So it’s a breakfast?”

“All-day breakfast at the Sparrow Lake Farmers’ Co-op.”

Grace scribbled a note to herself even as she wondered if she would fit in at this kind of social event. “At the co-op?”

“Right. The building has offices and meeting rooms. That’s where the Dairymen’s Association is located. I’m going around noon. If you like, we can go together, as long as you don’t mind that I’ll be bringing the twins. I can introduce you to people you haven’t yet met.”

“Great. And I would love to see Addison and Taylor again.”

Heather eyed Grace’s designer suit. “You might want to...um...dress down a little.”

“So I fit in. Got it. Now at least I have a plan to influence people more than some transient ghost hunter. I can hope, right?”

Heather’s expression remained cautious.

Uh-oh. That didn’t bode well, Grace thought. “Is there a problem I don’t know about?”

“Just a little one. There’s another reporter going around town, trying to dig up a story about the ghost sightings.”

Grace groaned. “And I was just thinking what a nice day I had yesterday on the ‘haunted’ property. I say we get down to work before I lose my mind over this nonsense.”

At her invitation, Heather took a chair on the opposite side of the desk. As always, she was dressed casually compared with Grace, today in pale green chinos and a matching spring sweater. Her light brown hair streaked with blond was pulled back in a ponytail, and her face was makeup free other than a swipe of tinted lip gloss.

“So...yesterday...” Heather cleared her throat and with an interested expression lighting her pretty face asked, “What was going on?”

“Oh. I, um, gave Caleb Blackthorne a tour of the area.” Grace tried to keep her tone casual.

“Ah, I see.”

She simply blinked at the other woman’s knowing tone.

Heather went on. “Caleb Blackthorne is considered quite a catch to the unmarried women in these parts, you know. Good-looking, great job, beautiful home. Lucky you.”

“It wasn’t a date,” Grace was quick to assure her. “The other day, his daughter, Angela—or Summer Storm, as she calls her artist self—created some problems at Green Meadows.”

“So I heard.”

Sparrow Lake was a small town with an active rumor mill, Grace reminded herself. Probably everyone had heard. “I wanted to talk to Caleb about his daughter, to see if I could get some insight on why she painted that mural, and I learned he teaches environmental studies at the community college.”

“I know. I took a couple of his classes. Great teacher.”

Grace thought about telling Heather she’d been considering taking his classes, too, but something stopped her.

“At any rate,” Grace went on, “Caleb asked me about why we went green with the new community, and I offered to give him a tour of the place.”

“A tour that put a big smile on your face.”

“I enjoyed myself,” Grace admitted, then before Heather could question her more indicated the table along the wall. “That should give us enough room to spread out your blueprints, don’t you think?”

“That it does.”

Part of Grace wanted to continue discussing Caleb with someone who knew him—she wanted to learn more about him if she could—but she didn’t want to seem too enthusiastic about a man who didn’t necessarily feel the same way about her.

* * *

ANGELA WASN’T SPEAKING to him again, and Caleb was ready to pull out his hair.

He still couldn’t believe he’d come home the day before to find a rickety structure that passed for a sweat lodge in his yard. Not that he objected to the idea of his daughter building one, but she had been grounded for the entire spring vacation. Apparently she’d chosen to interpret what that meant for herself. He’d given her a stern lecture about following rules and taking responsibility. He’d been sorely tempted to order her to tear down the flimsy shelter before it fell down, especially when he’d learned she’d used their winter blankets to build it. But his daughter’s tearful, accusatory expression had torn at his heart. He’d merely told Angela she couldn’t use her sweat lodge until her punishment was over at the end of the week.

She’d refused to have dinner with him.

Or breakfast.

What was he going to do with her? They’d never been at odds like this until the past few weeks. He needed someone to talk to about his daughter—someone who could give him some guidance. A good reason to visit his mother. Angela wasn’t speaking to him anyway, so he was simply spinning his wheels walking through the house.

Stopping at her closed bedroom door, he raised his voice. “I’m going out for a while.”

No answer.

No big surprise.

“I expect you to stay inside the house.” He waited for a moment, then said, “I need to know that you heard me.”

“I heard you.”

Still sullen. What was he going to do with her? Hopefully Mom would give him some good ideas of how to handle his daughter. How to get her to open up and not simply in anger. He thought about calling Mom first, then just decided to surprise her.

Maddie Blackthorne was a member of the Sparrow Lake Chippewa Band on what was the smallest reservation in Wisconsin. The land was a little more than seven hundred acres, supported by three tiny family farms surrounding a single village. The band that had broken off from its Lake Superior cousins had fewer than a thousand members, only half of whom actually lived on the rez itself.

It was beautiful land, with a couple of hundred acres of meadows and unharvested old forest that he’d explored throughout his youth. His love of nature had inspired him to become an environmentalist. And a professor of environmental studies.

The Blackthorne family house was situated on a quarter acre halfway between the village proper and the untouched land. It was a simple two-bedroom with a living room and eat-in kitchen, but the garden surrounding the house would be spectacular in full bloom, the flowers intermixed with rows of vegetables. Caleb had helped his mother start the garden when he was a kid, before he’d begun finding ways to get himself into trouble.

He’d barely parked the truck before his mother came out of the house to greet him. She smoothed back the silver wings of her long blue-black hair, caught in the back with a clip. She was wearing her usual jeans with a long-sleeved pullover sweater. Mom’s clothing was always practical. A social worker, she spent her life taking care of other people rather than fussing over herself. He appreciated her dedication but wished she would fuss just a little. She deserved it.

“Hey, Mom.” Stepping up to the porch, he threw his arms around her.

She gave him a big hug. “This is certainly a surprise.”