He gathered his things, finding his socks and shoes by the front door. When he drove up to the house, he could see instantly what the problem was. Every piece of furniture on the wide front porch had been cut to pieces with the axe that normally sat in a log on the side of the house. Some of it had just been tossed into the yard. The planters his mother had always filled in the spring with brightly colored flowers were in pieces all over the yard. He’d continued the tradition of filling them with plants every year since her death.
Even the sign that hung above the front doors, which he and his father had made years ago, had been yanked down and snapped in two.
Daryl was standing on the steps waiting for him.
“Have you been inside yet?” he asked Daryl.
“No.” He sighed. “Too bad you had me keep Lenny and Squiggy down at my place last night. They might have scared off whoever did this.”
“Willy,” he said, unlocking the door. “This was Willy.” He groaned as he stepped inside.
“I’ve called the police,” Daryl said, stopping just inside the door.
The inside matched the outside. Most of the furniture was broken. Mirrors, glass vases, picture frames, and small tables.
Nick made his way through the house and noticed the back door torn completely off its hinges.
“I guess this will teach me about staying away,” he said softly as he kicked a pan that lay on the floor.
As he made his way through the house, he realized just how pissed Willy must have been to destroy so much. Not a single room was left untouched.
Most of the special items his mother had set around the house were destroyed. All of the small feminine touches that he and his father had left after her passing were now gone. And it really pissed him off.
By the time the police arrived, he’d checked every single room. All but the guest room upstairs had been gone through. Willy hadn’t bothered with clothes or closets or thankfully the pantry full of rows and rows of glass jars. But he’d smashed every single mirror. Every single picture frame was destroyed. All of the dishes lay in pieces in a pile in both the kitchen and the formal dining room.
The end tables and chairs were nothing more than kindling now. There wasn’t a lamp left in the entire house. Some had even been thrown out upstairs windows, smashing the double-paned glass and frames.
Kyle and Gary walked through all of the rooms with him, then informed him that he’d have to make a list and take pictures of all of the destruction. He knew he would have to do that anyway for his insurance company, thanks to a phone call to Stephen.
He signed a police report, then shot off a copy of it to Stephen as the cruiser pulled out of the drive. He watched as Kara’s truck stopped at the entrance while she chatted with Kyle for a moment.
Then her truck flew up the driveway, and she rushed to hug him on the porch.
“Kyle told me. I’m so sorry,” she said into his chest.
“It’s just things. They can be replaced,” he said, more for his benefit than hers.
She leaned back and cupped his face. “Most of it was your parents’ memories.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “What can I do to help?”
He thought of telling her he could handle it, but he realized he wanted her around. Even if she didn’t return his feelings. Yet. He was a patient man. For something as good as she was, he figured he could wait a very long time for.
Chapter Fifteen
It took them two entire days to clean up his house. On the third day, she had to get ready for the farmers market but knew that he would make the rounds at her farm to feed and water the animals as he promised.
It ate at her that she hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to him about… what he’d told her the night of Liz’s birthday.
She’d wanted to return the words, but her fear had stopped her. Fear that she had never said those words to anyone before. Did she feel the same for him that he felt for her? Could it just be lust?
In the end, she had kept her mouth shut and helped him haul out every broken item. He’d burned the broken pieces of furniture. The rest had been hauled to the dump by Daryl or one of his workers.
Since there wasn’t any proof that it was Willy that broke in, all the police could do was visit him and give him a warning. Even his father was released the following day to await his trial, which was rumored to take place sometime after the holidays.
She knew Nick was determined not to give either of them another chance at his place, so there wouldn’t be a repeat of the other night anytime soon. Which was a complete shame.
She wished more than anything to wake up each day like she had that morning next to Nick.
Even as she and Liz spent the day in the kitchen baking, preparing everything for the farmers market, her mind replayed that night and morning she’d spent with him.
Liz had, thankfully, stepped up big time. Not only had her friend helped her bake, but she had also spent the night for much-needed friend time. Liz agreed to help her at the market the following day as well since the salon was closed on Sundays.
Even as they packed up everything for the market, she continued to dwell on her feelings about Nick’s confession.
Did she love Nick?
She didn’t have the answer to that question. Not yet. Sure, she loved being around him. He’d pretty much been there her entire life, at least the part that she could remember. He’d been an enemy to begin with. He’d shifted to a friend sometime much later. Then, he’d been… well, competition after her parents’ left for their vacation. Now, he was an interest in other ways she wanted to keep exploring.
She enjoyed his company. Enjoyed the sex. Liked his humor. His work ethic. Not to mention the way he filled out his jeans. And all those pretty muscles he let her play with each time he took his clothes off.
“Earth to Kara?” Liz snapped her fingers an inch from her nose.
“I’m here,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“I think we have everything,” Liz repeated, glancing around the kitchen.
Kara had been baking since two that morning and was on about her sixth cup of coffee.
“The market starts in an hour. We’d better head into town if we plan on having all of this set up by then.” Liz waved her hands at all the containers of pies, breads, cookies, and rolls she’d made.
“Right.” She took one more glance around and then locked the door behind them.
“So, do I get a cut of today’s profits?” Liz asked as Kara drove into town.
“I think you ate your share of profits this morning,” Kara joked.
“Hey, no one would blame me. Those cinnamon rolls are delish.” Liz glanced back to the back seat.
“No, you can’t have another one,” Kara said dryly, causing Liz to groan and cross her arms over her chest in a pout Kara knew all too well. “You can have some cookies after you’ve finished helping me set everything up.”
Liz smiled. “Deal.”
It took them a little while to find the booth that Cheryl had set up near the pavilion in the center of town. The middle-aged woman was one of the biggest health fitness gurus in town. She ran her own yoga studio out of her garage on the weekends and made jewelry when not homeschooling her three young children.
Both Kara and Liz had purchased many items from her in the past few years. Not once, however, had either of them known that Florence’s Jams was actually Nick’s business.