Summer In Iron Springs Page 2

  The buildings were all either really old or they were built to appear that way. Looking at them, Phoebe felt like she had taken a trip back in time. She didn’t know a place like Iron Springs actually existed outside the movies.

  Norm stifled another yawn and his voice droned on. “To your right is the library. Back in the day, it was a tavern . . . a saloon . . . a, uh. . .” He raised his eyebrows at Phoebe.

  “I know what a tavern is.” Phoebe glanced out the window and rolled her eyes.

  “That’s the community center. That’s where all the kids hang out.” He directed his eyes toward a large brick building adjacent to a park. “I suppose you know your mom taught art classes there.”

  “She did?” Phoebe couldn’t believe her ears. She tucked her feet up beneath her and turned to face Norm. “I mean . . . my mother was an artist?” No one had ever spoken to her so openly about her mother. Not even her father; well, especially not her father.

  “Oh, heavens yes,” Norm said, nodding his head and smiling. “Didn’t you know that?”

  Phoebe shook her head, saddened by what she didn’t know. How could she not have known her mother had been an artist? Had she ever asked her father? Of course she hadn’t. He had made it clear years ago that the subject of her mother was off-limits. But, why hadn’t she pushed the issue? If she had, he would have told her about Bessie. Was it possible that she had intentionally avoided the subject? A pain shot through her heart as she realized that she and her father had spent the past thirteen years pretending Bessie never existed.

  There was a long moment of subdued silence before Norm spoke again. “Well, I’m not an authority and that’s for sure. But in my opinion, Bessie was one of the most talented artists ever born on God’s green earth.”

  Phoebe didn’t trust her voice to respond so she gave Norm a half-smile before returning her attention to the passing scenery. How could Norm—someone she’d met little more than an hour ago—know more about her mother than she did? Tears tumbled down her cheeks and she wiped them away.

  “Oh, little lady,” Norm said, glancing sympathetically at her. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  Phoebe sniffled and wiped her eyes. She couldn’t bear to have Norm feeling sorry for her. She felt stupid for letting herself get so emotional in front of him. She blinked hard and forced away the emotions that seemed determined to find a way of escaping her body. “So, what did Anna tell you about me?” Phoebe’s voice cracked and she hoped Norm hadn’t noticed.

  Norm gave her a sympathetic smile. “She told me to pick you up at the airport. She’d a done it herself, but she had a town council meeting she couldn’t get out of. She asked me to apologize for her.”

  “Did she tell you I was being forced to come here against my will?”

  Norm removed his dirty cowboy hat and set it on the seat beside him. “Nope.” He ran his fingers through his thick brown hair. “Would you like to tell me about it?”

  Phoebe studied Norm’s round face for a long moment. Was he telling the truth? Would Anna really send him to pick her up from the airport without giving her all the juicy details about her brush with the law?

  “That’s kind of hard to believe. I mean she had to have told you something.”

  Norm rolled down his window and waved at a passing motorist. “Believe what you like, little lady. I work for Anna. If she says jump, I ask how high. That’s how it works.” He put his hat back on and checked himself in the rear view mirror. He rested both hands on the steering wheel and let out another loud yawn. “She said to pick you up; that’s all. Like I said, you can tell me if you want.”

  Phoebe shook her head and stared out the window.

  Without skipping a beat Norm continued on with his sight-seeing tour. “Over that way is Park Street. That’s where the tourists go… lots of tourists here in the winter time. There’s shops, restaurants, skiing.” Norm pointed toward the ski slopes that had been carved into the mountainside. “Do you ski?”

  “No.” Phoebe studied the mountains that towered over the touristy shopping district. It was like a picture from a postcard.

  “Well, I’m sure you like to shop little lady. Course, I stay away from that part of town—too high-falutin’ for me.” He let out a loud chuckle. “But you can easily walk there from Anna’s house. There’s more shops than you can shake a stick at.”

  Shopping? Since her father refused to give her any money she probably wouldn’t be doing any shopping and since shopping was one of the things she was looking forward to doing in New York, the dreadful thought added one more entry to her ever growing list of cons.

  Norm exited the paved road and headed down a narrow dirt lane where he slowed to a stop after angling the truck into an open space beside a much newer, much shinier, red truck. “Here we are!” he announced. “Your summer home, little lady.”

  Phoebe glanced out the window and studied the log cabin. It was much bigger than she’d imagined it would be. The lower section was built of flat, neutral colored stones in different shapes and sizes and the upper section was constructed of large brown logs with giant wooden pillars supporting the second story’s wrap-around porch.

  Her eyes were drawn to a huge window that revealed the over-sized blades of a ceiling fan whirling in circles. She studied them for a long moment before letting out a long sigh and opening the truck door.

  “I’ll grab your bags; you head on inside.”

  Phoebe swallowed hard to clear the lump in her throat. “I can get my own bags.” Her voice quivered, and Norm gave her a sympathetic glance.

  “Suit yourself,” Norm said.

  Phoebe stepped out of the truck just as Anna Walker, an attractive, slender woman in snug blue jeans, a western style shirt, and leather cowboy boots walked out the front door. She was followed by a golden retriever who limped slowly across the large wooden porch. Phoebe recognized her aunt from photographs but she had no memory of ever having met the woman.

  Norm grinned as he passed Anna on the porch steps. “She’s a pistol.”

  Anna gave Norm a nod and made her way down the stairs. She approached Phoebe and wrapped her arms around her. “What a beautiful young lady you’ve become,” she said, holding Phoebe in a long embrace. Then, pulling back slightly, she stared into Phoebe’s chocolate brown eyes, cradled her cheeks in the palms of her hands and smiled. “You look so much like Bessie.” Anna’s voice cracked and her eyes became moist.

  Phoebe shrugged. The fact that she resembled her mother was not news to her but she wasn’t used to hearing it aloud. She’d also seen enough pictures of Anna to know that the two sisters, though five years apart in age, looked almost like twins. Looking at Anna now, seeing her wide brown eyes, it was almost more than Phoebe could take. She imagined this was what it would feel like to look into her mother’s eyes. She took a step back and stared over her aunt’s shoulder at the mountain side. The golden retriever limped over and nuzzled his wet nose in her hand and she gave his head a pat. His eyes were tired and he looked worn out.

  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t pick you up from the airport. I had a meeting that I was unable to get out of.”

  Phoebe noted the smile lines on either side of Anna’s mouth and the faint wrinkles around her eyes. There was tenderness in Anna’s words that told Phoebe her aunt was not the wicked witch she had made her out to be when her father informed her that Anna had agreed to have Phoebe live with her for the summer. “Don’t worry about it,” she said coolly.

  Anna nodded and said softly, “Come inside and let’s get you settled. I’m sure you’ve had a long trip.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Phoebe let out a sigh, retrieved her luggage from the bed of the truck and followed her aunt up the porch steps. They walked through a set of tall wooden doors and into a large open foyer before heading up a towering staircase. “This is where you’ll stay, Phoebe,” Anna said as she opened the last door on the right side of the long hallway.

  Phoebe’s eyes were drawn immediatel
y to huge windows that gave a stunning view of the mountainside. “This is my room? Are you serious?” She raised a hand to her mouth. The words spilled out before she had time to form them, and she immediately regretted the excitement in her voice. While taking in all the details of the beautiful room, she made a mental note to do a better job of keeping her emotions to herself. She set her suitcases down on the wooden floor and walked to a set of open patio doors where extra-long, white silk drapes swayed gently in the cool summer breeze. This is amazing; she thought as she stepped onto the balcony and took in the stunning view.

  “It’s incredible isn’t it?” Anna said, joining her on the balcony. “Bessie just loved the view from this spot.”

  Phoebe peered over the side of the balcony while inhaling the fresh smell of pine and the sweet perfume of lilacs. She allowed her eyes to follow the river’s rushing water as it snaked down the canyon. It really was an unbelievable view and for a split second, the artsy side of Phoebe reveled in the beauty of it all. How wonderful it would be to capture it all with her paints and brushes—if only she had them. If only her father hadn’t taken them away as part of her punishment.

  “Let me show you around, dear,” Anna said. “And then I’ll let you rest; you must be exhausted.”

  “I’m sure I can find my way around. Besides, I’m kinda tired.” Phoebe forced a small smile before turning and heading back inside. She stood just inside the balcony doors and scanned the walls in search of something to focus on. Eventually, her eyes settled on a collection of four beautiful paintings.

  “Well, I’ll give you some time to unpack then. Call me if you need anything.” Anna walked toward the door. “Dinner’s at seven.”

  The door closed, and Phoebe was alone at last. For a long moment, she simply stood with her eyes glued to the paintings. Focusing her attention on them would keep her from obsessing about where she was, or more importantly, where she wasn’t. She moved closer to the wall and glanced briefly at each of four paintings before noticing that, although it displayed a winter scene, the largest one had been painted from her balcony. Her eyes moved from the painting to the mountainside and then back to the painting. The scene was breath-taking and Phoebe found herself caught up in it.

  Exhausted, and filled with more emotion than she knew what to do with, Phoebe fell on the bed and closed her eyes. In moments, she was sound asleep.

  Two

  The next morning, when the sun peeked through a tiny break in the closed drapes, Phoebe’s eyes opened, closed, and opened again. Slowly she scanned the room.

  Iron Springs. Ugh.

  How badly she wanted to be in New York. Her father knew how much the opportunity had meant to her. Why did he have to be so unreasonable? How could he force her to turn down the chance to work side-by-side with some of the world’s most talented artists? He had always refused to acknowledge her talent and this was just another instance of him showing her that he did not want her to be an artist.

  She drew the comforter over her head, curled into a ball and urged darkness to return. But even the thick blanket wasn’t enough to drown out Norm’s bellowing voice.

  “Food’s on the table little lady. Come and get it.”

  Phoebe let out a loud groan. What is he doing here? The grumbling in her stomach prompted her to glance at the clock on her nightstand. Seven thirty. She had slept for over twelve hours and she felt like if she closed her eyes, she could sleep another twelve. She considered skipping breakfast and staying holed up in her room. But, when her stomach growled again—reminding her she’d missed dinner the night before—she let out a long sigh and sat up. After yawning, stretching, and turning every which way trying to scratch an annoying itch in the middle of her back, she put on her slippers, stood up and staggered to the bathroom.

  She splashed cold water on her face until she felt at least somewhat awake and then, after running a brush through her hair to remove the tangles, she pulled her hair into a ponytail. Wetting a tissue under the faucet, she removed a smudge of mascara from beneath her eye before pulling her robe on and heading out the door. She glanced at the framed photographs that lined both sides of the hallway. When she saw the one of her mother, she stopped to look at it, surprised she hadn’t noticed the day before. The size of this picture—the largest one Phoebe had ever seen—made Bessie look so . . . alive. Phoebe reached up and ran her hand over her mother’s pretty face. Then, swallowing the lump in her throat, she headed downstairs.

  “Hello again little lady,” Norm said when Phoebe entered the dining room. “I hope you got some rest.”

  “I did,” Phoebe said, sliding into an empty chair before glancing around the room. What is this, a bed and breakfast? And who are these people? She tightened the belt on her robe and tucked her feet beneath the chair in an effort to hide the fuzzy green slippers that suddenly seemed like a really bad idea.

  “Don’t you boys know it’s impolite to stare?” Norm spoke to the two men whose eyes had settled on Phoebe. Phoebe was thankful when the two men returned their attention to Norm.

  “Hey, you slackers, thanks for leaving me to do all the work.” The kid she’d seen yesterday at the orchard walked in and gave Norm a playful punch in the arm. “Just because it’s Saturday doesn’t mean you get to sleep in.”

  In what universe is seven-thirty considered sleeping in? Phoebe thought to herself. She glanced at the boy. His damp hair looked darker than it had yesterday—sort of ash blonde. It fell forward in a tousled mess that looked like he hadn’t bothered combing it. Despite this, he still managed to look hot. He glanced at Phoebe and their eyes met. Her eyes held his for a long moment before she shifted her gaze to the multi-colored placemat on the table.

  “At least we know who’s getting the biggest bonus after the harvest,” the boy said, taking a seat across from Phoebe.

  “Oh you think so do you?” Norm asked, laughing loudly. “Do you know who signs those checks?” Norm pointed a finger to his chest. “I do, and you won’t be getting any bonus if you don’t get the far end pruned.”

  “Don’t worry. It’ll be done in plenty of time,” Billy promised.

  “Well, everyone . . .” Norm stood up and motioned a hand toward Phoebe. “We have company. This little lady right here is Phoebe Levick. She’s come to spend the summer with us.”

  Phoebe glanced at Norm. Why does he keep calling me little lady? Doesn’t he know I have a name?

  Norm put a hand on the shoulder of the lady seated beside him. “I’d like you to meet my fiancée. This is Gina.” His face beamed when he looked at Gina and Phoebe could hear the pride in his voice.

  “It’s nice to meet you Phoebe,” Gina said.

  “Nice to meet you too,” Phoebe said, glancing from Gina to Norm. Norm had a fiancée? And she was actually very pretty. Their relationship, Phoebe quickly decided, must be where the phrase opposites attract came from. Gina was petite and cute and stylish. Her thick brown hair was cut in a bob that framed her pretty face and the navy blue blouse she wore enhanced her light green eyes. She smiled at Phoebe and, as Phoebe gave a quick smile in return, she couldn’t help but wonder what on earth Gina saw in Norm.

  “And this here’s John Stanger.” Norm held his hand out to the large man seated across from him. “I call him The Gentle Giant. I’m sure you can see why.”

  John stood up and extended his massive hand across the table. “It’s nice to meet you Phoebe.”

  Phoebe accepted his hand in hers. “Nice to meet you too,” she said. John was tall, well-built and imposing. His commanding features didn’t match the soft tone of his voice. Phoebe gave John a small smile and when he smiled back, she could tell he was definitely a gentle giant.

  “And this is Stephen Hansen. He’s been here the longest,” Norm continued. “Almost thirty years, right?” To Norm’s question, Stephen nodded his head slowly. “Stephen doesn’t talk much but he’s a real hard worker.” The man’s face flushed and he smiled a wide smile when he heard Norm’s words. “And this you
ng chap right here is Billy Hall. Billy’s the baby of the group; just turned eighteen last week.” The boy flashed another smile at Phoebe. “Billy likes to think he works hard.”

  Norm laughed loudly and the others joined in, even Billy. He had a good sense of humor—even when the joke was on him. In Phoebe’s book, a guy who could laugh at himself was attractive. If she’d had her list with her, she would have added one more check to the pro column.

  “And this guy,” Norm held out a hand to the golden retriever who’d just made his way to the dining room. “This is Bandit—in dog years he’s older’n any of us.”

  Bandit gave Norm’s hand a sniff before limping over to where Phoebe was sitting and curling up at her feet.

  “Bessie named him Bandit cuz he used to steal her stuff,” Stephen said. The man’s words came out slowly, like he was considering each word before he said it. “Now he’s too old so he doesn’t do that anymore.”

  Phoebe squirmed in her chair. She glanced at Bandit. My mother named the dog?

  Norm laughed. “I remember once he chewed up one of your mom’s favorite shoes—he must have known he was in trouble because Bessie found him hiding behind the couch with the half-eaten shoe dangling from his mouth.”

  “Breakfast is ready everyone.” Anna came into the dining room carrying a large platter of pancakes.

  Norm stood up. “Let me get that, Anna.” He took a platter from Anna and, after placing it in the center of the table, he headed for the kitchen. “C’mon boys; give me a hand.”

  Phoebe was grateful for the distraction. Having spent her life treating the subject of her mother as though it were forbidden, she wasn’t sure she could ever get used to hearing Bessie talked about in casual conversation. She glanced again at Bandit, looking into his tired eyes. A lump formed in her throat when she thought of her mother scolding the dog for stealing her shoe. It was the first time she’d ever really thought of Bessie in a human moment—doing an everyday thing like searching for a shoe. She swallowed hard and tried to force away the emotions.