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Book 6: Mill Pond

by Judi Lynn

Genres: Women's Fiction; Contemporary Romance; Romantic Comedy

Synopsis

In Mill Pond, Indiana, neighbors always look out for each other. And even though tourists are drawn to the small town’s charms, it’s the locals who fill it with warmth . . . Traveling nurse Karli Redding doesn’t have many fond memories of her aging grandfather, Axel—or of Mill Pond. But with Axel’s health in decline and Karli on a month’s hiatus between jobs, she volunteers to set him up with the help he needs. The house and her grandfather could both use some TLC. Good thing Keagan Monroe, the very attractive mailman next door, is always ready to lend a hand . . . Not a lot slips by a mailman, and Keagan appreciates Karli’s dogged attempts to spruce up the neglected property. Painting, fixing the sagging porch, delivering a constant stream of casseroles from caring neighbors—he’ll help however he can, all while keeping his feelings under wraps. A short-term fling just doesn’t fit into his schedule. But with each passing day, Karli’s bond with the town grows a little deeper. Has fate sent her exactly where she needs to be? Karli’s willing to find out, and the first step is figuring out the perfect route to Keagan’s heart . . .

Release date: November 7, 2017

Publisher: Lyrical Press

Print pages: 218

Sample

Chapter 1

The house looked deserted, but Karli Redding knocked on her grandfather’s door. Maybe the mean old coot had been carted off to a nursing home during the night and no one told them. He was lucky the house was still standing. It looked worse than the last time she was here. When was that? Ten, fifteen years ago? Its roof looked new, but paint peeled on the clapboards. The porch sagged where a column had rotted, and tall, dead weeds choked the yard.

She pulled her jacket closer. The air had a bite to it. When she exhaled, her breath misted, but it could be worse for the first of November. She knocked again, waited, and turned to leave, then decided she’d better call Mom first and check in. “I’m in Mill Pond. The place looks deserted. No one answered the door.”

“Dad can’t get around much anymore,” her mother warned. “He’s pretty much confined to his bed or wheelchair. Just knock and let yourself in. That’s what everyone does, according to Keagan’s phone call. Keagan was going to meet you there. Maybe he got hung up and is running a little late.”

It was the first time Mom had given her a name. “Who’s Keagan?”

“He lives on the farm next to Dad’s. I’d have come to deal with this, but I’m in the middle of a project at work.”

Yeah, right. That’s what Mom kept saying. Not that Karli blamed her. Mom was a strong woman, and she’d overcome a lot, but memories of living with her dad still haunted her. No one wanted to be around him, and Mom couldn’t make herself come back to face him again. Axel could make a saint want to strangle him. Thankfully, Karli had only seen him on rare visits when she was young. More than enough. Not so much that she couldn’t do what needed to be done. It would be easier for her than Mom and she was between traveling nurse jobs. Not that she’d meant to spend her time off dealing with a pain-in-the-ass geriatric.

Karli took a deep breath, bracing herself. What a depressing place! The farm fields spread as far as she could see, all of them neglected. The barn’s roof needed to be repaired. It had taken all the determination she had to return to Mill Pond. No wonder her mom couldn’t force herself to. Only bitter memories clung to this place. Mom had gotten out of town as soon as she finished high school and only drove back for visits until her youngest brother finally graduated and fled his parents, too. Axel Crupe was eighty-three years old now, and he hadn’t improved with age. As far as anyone knew, he had no friends. His wife, Eloise, had given him twelve children, and Karli’s mother could only remember her as pale and pregnant.

“She flinched a lot,” Mom said, “because Dad liked to backhand her.”

“Why did she stay with him?” Karli could hardly remember her grandmother. She’d died five years ago, but Karli had no clear memory of her. When the family visited Mill Pond, Eloise sank into the background, unremarkable and easily forgotten, never calling attention to herself. Maybe after having a dozen children, it took all of the oomph out of you. That, and living with Axel.

Her mother sighed. “I don’t think Mom was too bright, and she was easily intimidated.”

“A wimp.”

“A sad shade of a woman,” her mother corrected.

Understandable. Axel was a banty rooster with an attitude. Karli knocked on the door with more force, ready to push it open, when a tall, lean man cracked it wide for her. She stepped back and stared. Not hard on the eyes.

He nodded a welcome. “You must be Karli. Your mom said you’d come to help settle things with Axel. I couldn’t come to the door earlier. I was helping him back in bed after changing his sheets.” Karli raised her brows and he said, “They weren’t wet, but he ate crackers and they were full of crumbs.”

The house had that old-people smell. Keagan acted immune to it. He didn’t look like someone who’d live in Mill Pond. He wore his golden-brown hair pulled back in a short ponytail. Looked artistic. Of course, plenty of artists owned shops in town. At least, that’s what she’d heard. Her family never stopped by any of them, but that’s why tourists came here. She stared, riveted by his cobalt-blue eyes and long lashes; hardly even noticed the puckered skin and scars on the left side of his face.

He shrugged. “When I was a kid, I pulled a pan of boiling water off the stove when my mom wasn’t looking. It takes people a while to get used to how I look.”

She blinked. “I was staring at your eyes. They’re beautiful.”

His lips curved in a smile. “Mom said your mother was short and plump with straight, blonde hair. Not a bit like you.”

She raised an eyebrow. Was that an innocent comment? A compliment? Men noticed her coloring—thick, black masses of long, curly hair and brown eyes. She was a little overweight and didn’t give a damn. If a man wanted a model, he was sniffing after the wrong girl. Most men didn’t seem to mind.

She looked him up and down. Khakis instead of jeans. A thermal shirt that showed off his muscles. The man seemed awfully secure in his own skin. “Are you the Keagan my mom talked about?”

“Yup, that’s me. Mill Pond’s mailman. I know everyone in the area, and I notice changes when they happen. Axel hadn’t emptied his mailbox for a few days, so I decided to check on him. Just down with the flu, thank God, but his stove was on. It’s a good thing no pot was on the burner. I don’t know the last time anyone’s mowed the yard. He’s reaching a point where he shouldn’t be alone, so I called your mom.”

A gravelly voice called from the back of the house. “Damn you, boy! Couldn’t you just mind your own business? Leave me in peace?”

Keagan looked amused. “Sure, if I didn’t bring you groceries once a week and watch your house fall down around your ears.” He turned to Karli. “Don’t let the old man fool you. He’s like a kid. He has supersonic ears. I’ve found his stove on three times when I arrived, and the man doesn’t even cook.”

He was talking her language now. As a nurse, she liked assessments and specifics. “Hopefully, I can set up some kind of home care for him. If that’s not enough, I’ll help him choose a good nursing center.”

Keagan raised an eyebrow, doubtful. “He’s never made anything easy. You’ll be lucky if he cooperates with you.”

No matter. “If worse comes to worse, I’ll have to call in health services, but thanks for alerting us to the problem.”

He laughed. “I deliver mail. I’m Mill Pond’s watchdog.” He opened the door wider and stepped back. “Come on in.”

She crossed the threshold and stopped. Good grief. The inside of the house was worse than the outside. The rooms she could see looked as though no one had set foot in them for years. No one had dusted in a decade and cobwebs hung from corners. It smelled musty, and a faint scent of urine drifted from a back room.

Keagan pressed his lips in a grimace. “It’s not pretty. A woman comes in to clean his room every other week, but he won’t let her touch anything else. I fetch groceries for him when he needs them, but I think he stopped cooking a while ago. The only empty containers I’ve seen in the trash lately held applesauce, cottage cheese, and Ensure.”

Karli turned a serious gaze on him. “You’re awfully nice to a mean old man.”

The voice called again. “Mean, huh? Which one of Donna’s miserable kids did she send? She was too much of a chicken shit to come herself.”

Karli was glad she could spare her mom this. She could have dealt with it, but thankfully, Mom had put her growing up pains behind her. Why stir them up again?

“I don’t see any other kids lining up to rescue you!” Karli followed the voice toward the back room—a depressing journey. The kitchen had worn linoleum flooring and a grease covered, four-burner stove. Flies buzzed around an open can of peaches. She shook her head. “Can he get around?”

Keagan nodded. “Everything’s set up for his wheelchair, but he’s moving less and less these days.”

* * * *

Keagan kept walking until they stepped into a three-season room. Axel sat nearly upright in a hospital bed, cranked so that he could see out the windows. He had on stained pajamas, and his steel-gray hair hadn’t been washed. A black garbage can sat close by, and the corner of an adult diaper drooped over its edge.

“For God’s sake, shut the damn thing!” Keagan cracked the lid and let the diaper slide inside, then quickly shut it.

Axel looked a lot like she remembered him—average height, lots of long, messy, gray hair, and a stubbly chin. But his shoulders were stooped, his frame withered, and his legs thin and frail. Age was taking its toll.

He glared at her. “I don’t need to be rescued!”

“The hell you don’t. You need to be hosed down—and with lots of soap.” She looked at Keagan. “Does he ever wash?”

“I help him in the shower every Sunday and lay out clean clothes for him.”

“You go above and beyond duty. Why bother with him?”

The man shrugged. “We’re neighbors. My folks live on the next farm, and I help out during the busy seasons. Besides, Mill Pond takes care of its own. Well, everyone but Axel. He never won any kindness awards.”

Karli looked around. “Why is he back here? This is a three-season porch, isn’t it?”

“He likes looking outside. It’s glassed in and comfortable, at least, until winter. That way, he has a view, and he’s close to a bathroom.”

Not that he seemed to use it. “Does he change his own diapers?”

“Yup, and he makes it to the toilet for number twos.” Keagan sounded so matter-of-fact, it surprised Karli.

“You’ve been through this before,” she guessed.

“My grandmother lived with us for a few months before she passed.”

That explained it. If Karli remembered correctly, there were five big bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. When she stopped to think about that—a dozen kids and their parents in a two-bathroom house—she cringed.

Axel narrowed his eyes, studying her, and frowned. “Which kid are you?”

“Karli, Donna’s older daughter.”

He sniffed. “Your mom couldn’t have a boy. Just two silly girls. Weak.”

“Women are every bit as strong as men, so shut it.”

Axel’s lips turned down. “Are you sassing me, girl?”

“Maybe. I sure don’t agree with you.”

He moved slightly and winced, then rubbed his butt. “I think I’m gettin’ another bedsore. It’s starting to seep.”

Every nurse’s nightmare. She went to lift his light blanket to check on him, and he reached forward, grabbed her skin, and twisted it, hard. She remembered that from when she was little. He’d pinch her until she cried. Without thinking, she pinched him back, harder, and he yelped. Not a smart thing to do. She was a nurse. If he reported her, she’d be in trouble. But he didn’t know that, and she’d be damned if he’d ever pinch her again. She held up a finger to get his attention. “Don’t ever hurt me again. I don’t like you, and I don’t have to be here, but you’re going to let me help you, whether you want it or not.”

He looked stunned.

She put her hands on her hips. “Do you have a bedsore or not?”

He shook his head.

Keagan threw back his head and laughed. “You deserved that, old coot! You’d better be on your best manners. I don’t think you’re going to be able to bully your granddaughter.”

Axel’s shoulders stiffened and he turned away from them to look out the window.

Keagan shook his head. “What now? I doubt you want to stay in this place tonight. This is the only room that’s tolerable—barely. What’s your next move?”

“I saw a motel closer to town. I’ll try to get a room there, then come here early tomorrow morning and clean some place to stay in. I brought an air mattress, in case. I’ll set that up. There’s no way I’m using one of the beds.”

Keagan gave a small nod of approval. “My mom’s going to send over a casserole tomorrow to get you started. I’ll drop it off when I deliver the mail.”

“Thank you.”

He grinned. “You won’t believe me, but Mill Pond’s a pretty friendly place except for him. Here.” He opened his cell phone and punched in the name of the local motel. “Nick and Meg own it. I hope they have an open room.”

She was in luck. When she handed his phone back to him, she looked surprised. “They only had one vacancy tonight. They’re full for the rest of the week.”

“Tourists. Mill Pond is a happening place. You’re lucky it’s not leaf season. We’re mobbed when people come to the National Forest to see the trees in their glory.” Keagan grabbed an empty carton of microwaved mac ‘n cheese off Axel’s TV tray and carried it to the kitchen to throw away. “Good luck with everything. If you need something, holler.” He gave her his cell phone number.

She watched him drive away, then went to make a slow inspection of the house. The refrigerator was clean inside, stocked with Axel’s Ensure and cottage cheese. As for the rest of the house, she might as well have signed up to be a charwoman. She returned to the back room and noticed the TV remote on Axel’s cluttered tray. The house might be ready to fall around his ears, but the flat screen mounted across from his bed took up most of the wall.

He glared at her. “The sooner you leave, the better.”

“Then find a nice nursing home, and I’m out of here.”

“Never gonna happen.”

She smiled. “Then it sucks to be you. Until you show me that you can take care of yourself, I’m going to be in your business.”

His hand shot out to pinch her again, and she raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead. Make my day.” A Clint Eastwood quote, but appropriate. He folded his arms over his chest, and she said, “Let’s get you cleaned up before I go to the motel.”

“Keagan takes care of that.”

“It looks like you need to be washed again.”

“That’s not gonna happen. No woman’s touching nothing of mine.”

“I’m a nurse.”

“You’re a girl.”

She could argue, but he wouldn’t change his mind. He’d been living alone and taking care of himself this long. Another day wouldn’t matter. She started for the front door. “See you tomorrow.”

“Not if a semi hits you first.”

“You’re not that lucky.”

Chapter 2

At night, in her motel room, Karli called other motels around the area, hoping to find a place to stay, but Keagan was right. Mill Pond was a happening place. Every room was taken. Seems tourists came in November to buy handcrafted items for their Thanksgiving tables and to hike the trails in the National Forest before the snows fell.

She’d never been to the shops in Mill Pond. When her parents came to town, they drove straight to Axel’s farm, stayed as short a time as possible, and then left. Even at its best, the farm had been nothing to brag about. Eloise kept the house clean, raised her children, and cooked food that filled bellies. End of story. Karli wondered if her grandmother had always been so dispassionate or if being married to Axel had drained her of all hope and stamina.

When hunger struck, Karli drove to a McDonald’s. She usually avoided fast foods, but she didn’t have the energy to engage with anyone at the local diner, and she had a feeling people around here were friendly. Probably far friendlier than she was.

Her room at Nick and Meg’s Hotel had a pamphlet that listed local attractions, and she was amazed to read about the trendy resort on the lake, Harley’s Winery, a microbrewery with specialty hot dogs, and the many shops on Main Street. Art’s Grocery caught her eye with a long list of local offerings available in his Olde Time Store. The butcher’s counter stocked ducks, Guinea hens, and fancy cuts of meats—all organic. She paused when she saw Handmade Dinnerware on display by Keagan Monroe. How many Keagans could there be in Mill Pond? Was it Grandpa’s neighbor, the mailman? He did strike her as artistic.

She glanced at her watch and was surprised to see that it was already eight-thirty. It had been a long day. She called her mom on her cell. “Axel hasn’t improved with age,” she told her.

Her mom sighed. “I didn’t expect him to.”

“You never told me what a nice, little town this is.”

“Mill Pond? We hardly ever interacted with anyone, except for school. Even there, we were sort of the odd kids out.”

“I can see that. Is that why you always drove home to see your youngest brother?”

“I felt sorry for Charlie. Everyone left as fast as we could, and he was stuck there with Dad until he graduated. Then he left, too.”

Karli wondered if Axel would be worse or better to the last kid in the family. She’d bet on worse, since Charlie wouldn’t have anyone to defend him. “How did that go for him?”

“Charlie’s a sweetheart. Everyone loves him. People had him spend the nights at their places most of the time. He wasn’t home any more than he had to be.”

The word “sweetheart” made her think of Keagan. “Your neighborly mailman’s sure a decent guy. Do you remember him?”

“Never met him. I went to school with his mom, though, a wonderful woman. She’d smile at me whenever we passed in the halls.”

Karli shook her head. “That’s as good as it got for you?”

“We wore clothes about twenty years out of date, hardly ever left the farm, and everyone cringed when they saw our dad. My older brother, Kurt, and two of my sisters had Dad’s temperament but worse. Kids avoided us.”

Karli’s heart hurt for her mom. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it made me a stronger person, but don’t let Dad bully you. He won’t make anything easy about making arrangements for him.”

“I’ll manage. I don’t have to take his crap, and he knows it.”

There was another sigh on her mom’s end of the phone. “Thanks for doing this, Karli. He won’t appreciate it, but I do.”

“I’m used to uncooperative patients.” She didn’t have to live with them, though. “Let me take care of this, and I’ll see you before you expect it.”

“If you need help, call me,” her mom said. “I can drive to Mill Pond in half a day. We’ll miss you in Indy.”

“Miss you, too. ‘Night, Mom.”

With that, she turned off the bedside light and nuzzled into her pillow. She was tired. There was nothing to do but clean a room for herself at Grandpa’s house tomorrow and get things settled as fast as she could. She’d wake up early and get a fast start. And since she was stuck here for a while, she might as well look around the town. It seemed as if Mill Pond had a lot to offer.

Chapter 3

Keagan drove to his parents’ farm early in the morning. Heavy frost covered the fields, and fog swirled in the low spots on the way. It was only a twenty-minute drive from the two-story that he rented in town with his roommate, Brad, and he knew every inch of the way. He’d been looking for property to buy for a while now, but farms were too big and ranch houses in town with tiny yards were too small. He’d better find something soon, though, because his landlord was getting the itch to convert the rental into a bed-and-breakfast. He’d make more money, for sure.

No lights were on in either house—the old homestead or the ranch his sister and her husband lived in. The fields were all harvested. Hopefully, his dad and brother-in-law were sleeping in this morning. Keagan cut his headlights so they wouldn’t shine in the windows and drove to the far shed where his studio was. He could only spend an hour here before he had to leave for work at the post office, but he’d hand-painted eight dinner plates last night. The paint would be dry by now, setting off the pattern he’d embossed in them, and he wanted to glaze them today. The woman who’d ordered them at Art’s Grocery had chosen the fall leaf pattern with hues of rust, red, and gold, and she wanted to collect them this coming weekend when she made a return trip to Mill Pond.

When he walked into his studio, the smell of wet clay greeted him. The heavy blocks were sealed in thick bags, but somehow, the odor always permeated the room, and he loved it. He glanced at his pottery wheels and long, drying counters. The teapot in the shape of a cat sat ready to be painted in the corner. The customer wanted the teapot to look like a tuxedo cat—black with a white chin, nose, and paws—just like the picture she’d given him. He’d paint that after supper tonight.

He pulled on a work apron and got busy, finishing ten minutes before he had to leave for work. His cell phone rang and he glanced at his mom’s number.

“Hey, K, when you stop t. . .