My Heart My Home (Love in Madelia Book 1) Page 2

  She turned the key in the front door and it opened with a creak. Not creepy at all, Kate mused to herself. She lugged her baggage over the doorstep and shut the door behind her. Madelia wasn’t really the kind of town where people locked their doors, and it looked like the clinic lock didn’t even work. She looked around the darkened waiting room, pausing to take in the faded wallpaper and the dead ficus in the corner.

  A project for another day, Kate thought, as she headed through the back office and up the stairs to the loft apartment.

  Upstairs wasn’t much better than downstairs, she quickly discovered, although it was less lacking in updates and more lacking in just about everything. The small loft apartment was where the previous physician, Dr. Peterson, had spent most of his time off, but any trace of the old man had been wiped away by the townsfolk after he had passed. A few pieces of his collections still remained, antique medical equipment that Kate was sure no one had known what to do with. Kate clicked on lights as she went, happy to see that although the tiny bathroom lacked any kind of decorations, there was still a shower curtain, and the sink and the shower worked.

  Stripping off her clothes, Kate switched on the shower and turned the dials to scorching hot. After just a minute of clanking and screeching inside the pipes, the small room began to fill with steam and Kate happily climbed behind the shower curtain.

  Kate sighed in relief as the hot water hit her face. The trip across the country hadn’t just drained her physically, it had drained her emotionally too. Stepping out and away from the life she had worked so hard to build had taken a toll on her. Admitting to herself that she wouldn’t be returning was even harder. As Kate stood beneath the steaming hot shower head, she felt herself truly relaxing for the first time since the shooting that had taken her friend from her. She let herself cry against the stream of water, and it was the cry of someone who hadn’t cried in a very long time. She cried in fits and starts, but found she couldn’t stop once the tears had begun to fall. She sobbed, loudly and angrily, alone in her tiny apartment with the comforting knowledge that no one would hear her and if they did, no one would care.

  Chapter Two

  LOGAN

  “Oh, Logan! I’m so glad you are here! This thing is giving me all kinds of troubles today.” Mrs. Shuster, the owner of Madelia’s only diner, wrapped her chubby arms around Logan like he was a long-lost child. In Logan’s more difficult days, she had indeed been something like a mother to him. She had always found a way to sneak him and his little brother food without making a big deal about it, and without expecting any kind of payment in return. Although they had never spoken of it to that day, Logan was sure that Mrs. Shuster had been more aware of his home situation than many others had been in the town. She did what she could, with what she had available, to help a stubborn boy who would never ask for help.

  “What seems to be the problem?” Logan asked as he knelt beside the aging oven.

  “It’s just refusing to heat up properly,” she replied, stomping her foot in disgust. “I don’t know why.”

  Logan bit his lip as he looked at the appliance. It was more rust than metal at this point in it’s lifespan, and he was sure the inner workings were equally disastrous. It was a miracle it had lived as long as it had, he thought to himself as he opened the oven door. Many a meal had been cooked in there over the years.

  Logan stood and wiped his hands on his jeans. “I’ll bring my tools over and take a better look at it for you, okay? But it might be time to start shopping for a new machine in here.”

  Mrs. Shuster batted at Logan’s chest playfully. “Oh, don’t tell me that, Logan. You’ll give this old woman a heart attack. You know I can’t afford a new oven right now.”

  “We’ll see what we can do about that.”

  Logan knew Mrs. Shuster couldn’t afford a brand new oven for the restaurant, but it just so happened that he had connections to a fantastic appliance broker one town over. On his way to his truck, he punched in the number on his phone and waited for it to ring.

  He was nearly to his truck when he saw something that stopped him in his tracks. A ghost. A vision from his past that punched him in the gut and nearly stopped his heart.

  He saw Katie Jacobson walking across the street, his street, for the first time in more than a decade.

  KATE

  Her apartment was so lacking in basic necessities that Kate made it her first priority to track some down in town the next morning. She woke up with the dawn, stretching across her bed and thankful that she had remembered to bring her own sheets and pillow, and had gotten dressed and ready for a day of shopping.

  Shopping in Madelia was certainly less exciting that shopping in New York City, but Kate was determined that she would get what she needed to make that tiny apartment into a home. There might only be 2 or 3 shops in the town, she thought to herself as she crossed Main Street, but what they lacked in variety they made up for in product.

  Kate had purchased soaps shampoos and creams from the grocery store, which in addition to having the basic foodstuffs, also had on stock toilet paper, sturdy plastic dishware, and a small box of plastic silverware. Everything she needed to make her new little house a home.

  After running back into the store for cleaning supplies, Kate took Main Street back to the clinic.

  Being able to get everywhere she needed to go by foot definitely went in the plus category for Kate, who had missed the simple joys that came with strolling along the avenue. She spotted Mayor Johanson coming out of the hardware store a block down, and increased her steps to a light jog to catch up with her.

  “Mayor,” Kate said as she came up alongside the stout older woman.

  “Oh, Katie, I’m so glad you made it! How did you find the place? Is it okay?”

  Kate smiled and gestured to her shopping bags. “Just fine. Needed a few supplies to keep myself going, but it’s a nice little spot. Thank you, for all of this, Mayor.”

  “Oh, if you don’t start calling me Stacy, we’re going to have problems here. Do you need any help getting your stuff up?”

  “No, thank you,” Kate replied. “Besides, you’ve got more than a few bags of your own.”

  Indeed, the Mayor was carrying six or seven bulging white shopping bags, emblazoned with the hardware store logo. “Oh, yeah. Well, ‘tis the season and all that. We do the holidays in a big way around here nowadays.”

  Kate nodded, remembering that the town had always had lights strung between lamp posts, and festive wreaths on nearly every door from Thanksgiving to New Years. She looked back at the hardware store and briefly considered stopping in to grab some lights of her own for her loft apartment, but reconsidered when she adjusted the weight of the bags in her hands.

  “I’ll have to stop in and grab a few things myself, decorate the clinic and my space too,” she said with a smile.

  “Oh, that would be wonderful! I know just the guy to help you too. Hold on,” Stacy adjusted her bags to her left hand and dug her cell phone out of her pocket with her right. She pulled her wooly mitten off with her teeth and quickly dialed a number.

  Kate considered making her break for it as the phone rang; she really wasn’t getting any warmer and her bags were not light. But her mother had drilled some basic manners into her head at a young age, and they hadn’t included walking away from your elder before being able to say your goodbyes. So Kate waited. She heard the ring of Stacy’s cellphone turn to a gruff “hello” on the other end.

  “Oh, I’m so glad I caught you,” Stacy said into the phone. “I’d like to hire you on to do up the clinic in lights, maybe some decorations too.”

  Kate couldn’t really hear the other side of the conversation without visibly eavesdropping, so she contented herself with people watching down Main Street. There were hardly any cars, just happy families all bundled up in their winter warmest and holding hands as they traversed the icy sidewalks. Kate lost herself in thoughts of warm fires and toasted marshmallows as she thought about the lives t
hose strangers might be living. She forgot about Stacy and the conversation she was having, and was confused for a moment when the Mayor tapped on her shoulder to get her attention.

  “Dear, would this next weekend work for you?”

  “Work for me?” Kate replied dumbly. She wasn’t even sure what her schedule was, as the acting doctor of the small town clinic. Did she work weekends? Did she work this next weekend?”

  “For the decorations. Logan says he can drop by on Saturday, around 9am, if that works for you.”

  “I-Sure, I think that would be fine,” Kate said, in attempt to say anything.

  “Okay,” Stacy replied, into her cellphone. “She’ll be there for you.”

  Stacy hung up and stuffed the phone back into her pocket before donning her glove again and readjusting her shopping bags. “I have to be going now, Kate, but you let me know if you need anything, okay? And Merry Christmas!”

  “Merry Christmas,” Kate replied, even though November was barely halfway over. She crossed the street and headed back toward the town clinic, as the mayor continued on the direction she was heading.

  LOGAN

  He glared into his phone as if it were to blame for the inconvenience, before shoving it back into his jacket pocket and heading back towards his house. It wasn’t as if he had a lot going on this next weekend, or even that he minded helping out Mayor Johanson when she asked. He knew she’d pay him, even if he insisted that she didn’t, and all in all he usually enjoyed stringing up Christmas lights and making the town a little brighter. So why did the thought of decorating up the town clinic give him such a twinge between his eyebrows?

  Might have had something to do with the woman in charge of that clinic now, and after talking with the Mayor he was certain was who he had seen a few hours earlier. Katie friggin Jacobson was back in Madelia, looking ice cold in her thin jacket and no hat. He had watched her cross the street, from the town clinic over to the shopping district, and nearly had to pinch himself to convince himself that he wasn’t dreaming. How many nights had his mind wandered to thoughts of the Katie of his past? How many dreams of the times they had spent together-nearly spent together-had occupied his brain to the point of madness?

  Logan shook the cobwebs from his head and wrestled open the door to his pickup truck. It whined from lack of oil and heat, but it got the job done and soon he was heading back to the outskirts of town, determined to get Katie Jacobson off his mind.

  KATE

  It was just past noon when Kate got back to the loft apartment, and with a grumble of her stomach she realized she had skipped over breakfast and nearly lunch. Before getting down to cleaning, she decided to whip up something quick. She’d already purchased the basics, and putting together a turkey sandwich on bakery bread wouldn’t be winning her any culinary awards, but it satisfied her hunger and gave her a little energy boost.

  “Okay, time to get cleaning,” she said to herself. With grim determination, she tackled the kitchen first, clearing out the dust and grime of disuse, before moving on to the tiny bathroom.

  When she finally took a break, Kate noticed with awe that she’d worked for 2 hours straight through. Her muscles ached in that good way that said she’d gotten something accomplished, and she had a fine sheen of sweat across her brow. Shoving a stray hair from her forehead, Kate sat up on her knees from the center of the tile floor in the bathroom and peeked out into the main living quarters.

  The living room wasn’t what anyone would call spacious. More like cozy, Kate thought to herself. Not overly large, but the windows that let in the frail winter sun made it livable. If she had her way she would replace the aging carpet, maybe see if there was hardwood hiding under the pale blue, and maybe replace the faded window curtains as well. Back home in New York, Kate had invested in the black out shades, the kind that had thermal insulation to block out the cold, as well as the noise, of a busy bustling city below. She supposed she wouldn’t need that in Madelia so much, but the newness of curtains could go a long way to brighten up the loft apartment in a big way.

  Main living areas done, Kate moved on to the small bedroom. It didn’t look like it had been used much as a bedroom, which Kate had realized early on from the sag in the living room couch. The previous clinician must have crashed out there instead of in here, she thought as she pulled back the curtains and a flurry of dust swirled around her.

  The bed would definitely have to go, as the springs were noisy and not very comfortable. She pictured in her head how it would look; a new mattress, some new sheets, maybe jersey knit. Some firmer pillows too, she realized, and new curtains in here as well.

  Satisfied that everything was doable, Kate flopped down on the lumpy mattress and in spite of herself, fell into a midafternoon nap.

  Chapter Three

  LOGAN

  The diner was nearly full when Logan entered, customers who had come in for an early lunch still lingering over their coffees, while those who arrived looking for a late lunch, like Logan, were just arriving.

  He loved the smell of the diner, from the ancient peeling vinyl on the booths, to the black and white floor tiles, kept shiny in places by constant foot traffic.

  Logan caught the eye of Daisy Hewitt, the diner’s only waitress, and she smiled and nodded when he pointed at the booth in the corner. He sat opposite of a serious-faced little boy, his dark hair swirled on top of his head like frosting on a cupcake.

  “Hey there, Mason,” he said as he sat down. “What’s good today?”

  Mason looked up from his stack of coloring pages for a moment. “Everything’s good, Logan. Momma says so.”

  “Does she now? And how do we know that’s true?”

  “Momma doesn’t lie. Not ever.”

  Logan chuckled. The boy returned to his coloring as his mother, Daisy, approached.

  “Logan! Good to see you. What are you feeling like today?”

  “I’m starving. A BLT the size of Mason’s head sounds pretty good to me right now.”

  Daisy giggled and ruffled her son’s hair. “Big as this one’s head? I dunno, that’s pretty big.”

  “Momma,” Mason whined. “You’re messing up my colors.”

  “Don’t be messing up the man’s colors,” Logan said sternly, although he struggled with covering his smile. “That’s serious business.”

  “Right. Well I’m gonna leave you two men with your serious business and go whip up some head-sized BLTs. That sound good to you too, Mason?”

  “Yes Momma,” the little boy replied. “Thank you Momma.”

  “So damn polite. No idea where he picked that up,” Daisy said.

  “Maybe I’m rubbing off on him,” Logan replied.

  Daisy laughed out loud at that one. “You? Polite? You are a lot of things, but I don’t know about that one right there, Mister Logan McAllister.” She kept laughing all the way to the kitchen, her voice a light trill that fit right into the general air of the diner.

  Logan had been coming to the diner since before Daisy worked there, but he had to admit she made the place a whole lot more appealing. From what he remembered, she’d started on as a waitress not long after she got pregnant, in high school, and her mom kicked her out of the house.

  Mrs. Shuster had been more than happy to take on the sullen, hormonal 16-year-old, just like she’d taken special interest years before in Logan and his little brother Daniel. Some women were just like that, he mused to himself. They took on the world’s troubles, and managed to make something really wonderful out of bad situations.

  Mason had been born into love instead of the trailer park, and his momma had worked her tail off for the diner from the very beginning. She’d made herself a home here, and Logan was damned happy to see her and her son thrive. At 3 years old, the kid was brighter than he had any right to be, and Logan saw a lot of good things in his future.

  Hey, just because he wasn’t particularly interested in having kids of his own didn’t mean he couldn’t bask in the bright futures of the k
ids around him. He figured taking some of his meals with Mason was what it must be like to have a nephew. Eventually he saw his little brother settling down with a wife and kids of his own, and he’d get to see what having nieces and nephews around to spoil was really like, but for now Daniel was having a blast and living the soldier’s dream. Settling down wasn’t even on his radar, any more than it was on Logan’s.

  And for his part, Logan enjoyed the single life way too much to think about picking one girl for the rest of his life. He much preferred a fun tussle in the sheets in the evening, followed by the blessed silence that came with an empty house by the time the sun came back up.

  “Do you want to color with me?” Mason was staring at Logan now, his inquisitive eyes the same brilliant blue of his mom’s.

  “I’d love to. Can I color that fire truck one?”

  “Sure,” he said, handing over the black and white line drawing of the fire truck, along with a handful of brightly colored crayons. “Just don’t do silly colors like momma does. Fire trucks are red.”

  “Roger than,” Logan replied. “One red fire truck, coming up.”

  He’d nearly finished his picture when Daisy returned, balancing two plates piled high with BLTs, pickle spears and crunchy house-fried chips.

  “Here you guys go, Mason can you scoot the paper and the crayons over a bit?”

  “Come sit with us, momma,” Mason patted the seat next to him.

  “Oh hunny, I don’t think I can right now,” she glanced around the full diner. “It’s pretty busy in here today.”

  Logan waved a hand at the rest of the diner. “It’s busy in here every day. I’m pretty sure your customers can handle a few minutes without their favorite waitress waiting on them hand and foot. Come sit, I’m betting you haven’t eaten a whole lot today.”