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Songbird Season Page 7
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Page 7
She saw the relief on Uncle Frank’s face, and knew it was the right thing to do. It would cost some serious money to get the mess with the store’s lot resolved. Every bit would help.
She handed the cap to Doc. “What would you pay for one of these?”
“A good cap like that?” He turned it over and studied its construction. “I’d pay fifteen, for sure. Maybe twenty.”
“I think I’ve got just the right spot to display these caps. If you can bring them over this afternoon, Aunt Miriam, I’ll put them out right away.”
CHAPTER 6
The bracing northwest wind nearly ripped the aluminum foil off the brownies when Melinda stepped out of the back porch. A disheveled platoon of dried leaves, leftovers from last year, scuttled across the drive as she tried to pull up her jacket hood with one hand and balance her tray of treats in the other.
It was a relief to get into the relative warmth of her car. With the brownies settled safely on the passenger-side floor, she dropped her purse and book on the seat and adjusted her herringbone-patterned scarf, the one Diane knitted her for Christmas.
“I guess it’s a chance to wear this one more time, before it gets warm to stay. We’re into April now. But I wish it wasn’t so damp and chilly tonight. I hope it doesn’t hurt turnout at our first meeting.”
The empty gravel glowed in the headlights, and heavy shadows gathered in the ditches as the sun started to set. She slowed as she approached the creek bridge, her eyes darting from one side to the other in case some wild animal suddenly appeared. The thought of what might be roaming the pastures and creek banks made her a bit uneasy, but she certainly didn’t want to be the cause of any creature’s end. If nothing else, the neighborhood’s deer were surely out and about. She couldn’t be too careful.
Her own animals were certainly frisky these days. The sheep clustered at their closed pasture door every morning, as interested in those first small blades of fresh grass as their oats and hay. The ewes were as fidgety as their young lambs, kicking up their heels as they raced for the pasture’s boundaries. The chickens didn’t want to go into their coop at sundown, but Melinda wasn’t about to let them have nighttime access to their run, no matter how sturdy it was. With the snow gone, it would be difficult to track any predators that might cross her yard.
Prosper’s Main Street was nearly deserted, except for a cluster of trucks and cars by the Watering Hole. But all the lights were on inside the library. Nancy’s car was out front, and Melinda spotted Karen’s truck turning on to Main.
“Well, we’re all set.” Nancy’s brown eyes danced behind her glasses as she rubbed her hands in anticipation. “I’ve got the coffee on in the meeting room, I figured we could hang out there. There’s cheese and crackers, and I see you’ve brought dessert.” She hurried to get the door for Karen, who was cradling a small slow cooker in her arms. Karen’s long blond hair was escaping from its ponytail, and her pale cheeks were ruddy from the wind.
“What’s a party without little sausages and barbecue sauce? I know, I was going to bring chips and dip, but I just couldn’t resist. Where can I plug these in, once I get these layers off?”
“There’s a side table there in the meeting room.” Nancy was at the library’s front window, leaning forward to look up and down Main Street. “We’ve got more company. Great, it’s Amy; and she has someone with her, too.”
Amy Westberg was a teacher at Prosper’s elementary school. Her husband, Paul, was the pastor at the small Lutheran church two miles south of Melinda’s farm, but they lived in town. They had two young children, but the girl with Amy tonight was a teenager.
“Hi everyone!” Amy waved, then took off her coat. “This is Ashley Robertson, she lives across the street from us. She’s a senior, and the editor of the high school’s newspaper.” Ashley smiled shyly, then began to blush as the women congratulated her on her role.
“Welcome to our little group.” Nancy pointed toward the meeting room. “Just go on back, we’ve got the snacks set out. I’ll wait up here for the others, since it’s not yet seven.”
Melinda was asking Ashley about her college plans when she heard what sounded like a dog barking. The surprised look on Karen’s face told Melinda she wasn’t imagining things. Then came the sound of small feet padding across the carpet.
“Good evening, ladies!” A middle-aged woman with rich caramel highlights in her long brown hair waltzed into the meeting room. One of her manicured hands clutched the leash of a perfectly groomed Pomeranian. Melinda nearly choked on a cheese cube when she noticed the little dog’s burgundy sweater matched its mistress’ turtleneck.
“Sorry to be late,” the woman added as she set her expensive tote on an empty chair. The dog settled on the other half of the seat. “It took Francesca a few minutes to decide on her outfit for this evening.”
Karen blinked, then found her voice. “Oh, hello, Mrs. Colton! I’m so glad you could make it.” Nancy soon appeared in the doorway. She raised her eyebrows at Melinda and gave a slight shrug of her shoulders.
“Oh, Karen, just call me Vicki.” The woman kept Francesca’s lead in one hand and reached around to offer friendly handshakes to the rest of the group. “My name’s Victoria, but it’s a little stuffy, don’t you think?”
She turned at last to Nancy, who Melinda knew had given up sweets for Lent but was now comforting herself with a brownie.
“You must be the librarian. I can’t tell you how excited I was when I saw the notice about the book club on the city’s website.” Vicki started to fill a paper plate with snacks. “We just moved here from Rochester last month. My husband, Arthur, is the new president of the bank over in Swanton.”
She took the empty chair next to Francesca, broke a sausage in half with a plastic fork, and offered a piece to the little dog. Francesca gently nipped it away and managed to eat it without dribbling sauce on her tiny sweater. She was amazingly calm, and sat quietly on her chair as her curious, dark eyes took in the startled faces of the people in the room.
“We looked at some beautiful homes in Swanton,” Vicki continued, “out there by the new golf course, but then the Realtor told us how wonderful Prosper was, and she was right. Arthur grew up in a rural area, you know, and he loved it from the moment we drove into town. Ben’s off at college now, so we decided to downsize a little. We got a wonderful deal on this charming little Craftsman, over on the corner of Oak and Second.” She turned to Melinda. “Oh, my! I just love that scarf. It’s stunning. Where did you get it?”
“Thanks. My mom made it for me.” Melinda knew which house Vicki meant, as properties rarely came up for sale in a town this size. The home was charming, for sure, but hardly little: The stately two-story had five bedrooms and had been constructed for one of the town’s founding families.
“We’re so glad to have you … both of you … join us,” Nancy said at last, giving their latest guests a warm smile.
“I just love to read.” Vicki put her purse on the floor, and Francesca took over the rest of the chair. “I got through this one in two days, then had to go online and order two more of the author’s books. Can’t believe I hadn’t heard of her before!”
When it seemed there would be no explanation for Francesca’s attendance, Karen felt compelled to speak. “Vicki and Francesca came into the clinic last week for an initial exam.” There was a note of apology in her voice. “I had suggested she join us, if she wanted.”
“Well, the more the merrier, I say.” Nancy had regained her composure and reached for another folding chair. “I think there’s two more people coming.”
Amy leaned down the table. “I’m glad you’re here. It can be hard to be new in town. I’m Amy, a teacher over at the elementary school. And this is my neighbor, Ashley. I’m not sure who else is coming, but …”
“Is this the book club?” A rotund man wearing a twill cap popped through the meeting-room’s door.
“Hey, Sam!” Nancy reached for the platter in his hands. “Thanks for
joining us.”
Sam Hayward operated the insurance office in the next block. He was rather quiet and never took part in Prosper Hardware’s coffee group, but had honored Melinda’s request to decorate his front window for the holiday festival. Sam kept the front steps of his modest brick building painted a smooth gray, and always had a pot of flowers on the stoop during the warmer months.
“Well, just as I expected.” Sam laughed good-naturedly and removed his cap, revealing a mop of white hair that matched his moustache. “Looks like I’m the only guy here. My wife warned me about that. She sent those cookies as a peace offering. So Nancy, will you keep me?” He put on a mock sad face.
“Of course, of course, everyone’s welcome.” Nancy gestured for him to take a seat, then turned to the rest of the group. “Sam’s one of the library’s most-prolific readers. I’m sure he’ll have much to add to our discussions.”
Sam did a double-take when he spied Francesca, but didn’t say a word. Melinda decided that after decades of serving clients from all around the county, it would probably take more than a dressed-up dog attending book club to faze him.
He settled his coat on a chair and got up to grab some coffee. “I saw the notice on the bulletin board when I was in here last week, and decided I’d give it a try. I thought discussing books might be a nice change from all the gossip that blows around when people in this town get together.” He suddenly turned to Melinda. “Oh, no offense.”
She waved his worries away. “None taken. I’m always telling the coffee guys that they’re just a bunch of busybodies. I don’t put much stock in some of the stuff they come up with.”
Sam nodded, as if she had just confirmed everything he suspected. “Well, I prefer to get my fictitious stories from books,” he said, to another round of laughter. “I like Westerns, a little science fiction and anything that makes me think.”
Vicki offered Sam her hand. “I’m Vicki, new to town. I think we’re on opposite ends of the reading spectrum. I’m a big fan of romance novels, myself. I just love happy endings.”
This was going to be interesting. Melinda wondered how Nancy planned to choose the books for each month’s meeting. Depending on which works were included, the group might lose a member or two before it ever got off the ground.
“Looks like this might be everyone, so let’s get started.” Nancy added her plate to the table and pulled up the last chair. “I hope the first Tuesday of the month works for everyone. I chose this first book because I thought it reached across several genres. Going forward, we’ll draw from members’ suggestions. I think this is going to be fun; it looks like we’ve got a wide range of interests here.”
Melinda munched a cracker so she could keep a straight face. Would Francesca get a vote?
“Everyone is welcome to bring whatever snacks they choose,” Nancy continued. “The library will provide the coffee and napkins and such. Some of you know each other, but let’s go around the table before we dive into this book. Amy, will you start us off?”
Amy was talking about her third-grade classroom’s literacy project when the library’s front door opened and closed. Someone was wiping their shoes on the mat.
“Hello? Hope I’m not too late.” A booming voice echoed through the library.
Nancy leaned out of her chair. “We’re just getting started, come on back!”
A sturdy woman in a drab canvas coat appeared in the meeting room’s doorway. Her shoes were missing, and the striped socks on her feet didn’t match.
“Terribly muddy these days,” she said to no one in particular. “Thought I’d better leave my boots up front.” The woman reached for one of the folding chairs waiting along the wall. Nancy and Sam scooched over to make room at the table.
Her ragged stocking hat was once the blaze orange favored by hunters, but long ago had faded to a dull peach. Underneath was a spiky nest of iron-gray hair. Her hands were calloused and she wore no makeup, but her faded sweatshirt and jeans were clean.
“Name’s Beverly Stewart, but everyone just calls me Bev.” She offered a firm handshake to Nancy, then kicked her feet out like she planned to stay. “Sorry I was running late. Had to put out more bedding for the horses and then the old truck was acting up. Hadn’t taken it anywhere in days, and it didn’t want to start.”
Karen came around the table. “I’m Karen, one of the veterinarians in town. My truck’s been fussy lately, too. This damp weather doesn’t help. Would you like some coffee?”
“That’d be just the thing. Thank you.” Bev glanced around the table, and her easy grin faded away. She crossed her arms. “What’s that dog doing here?”
For a second, no one moved. Melinda thought she might burst.
“Francesca goes just about everywhere I go, don’t you, baby?” Vicki cooed. And then, at what had to be the worst possible moment, she wiped the sauce from another piece of sausage and offered it to the dog. “I’m Vicki, by the way. My husband’s the new bank manager at First Federated in Swanton.”
“Figured as much,” Bev snorted, but graciously accepted the cup of coffee offered by Karen. “Thank you, dearie. Yes, I’ll take some sugar.” She worked on opening the little paper packet as everyone watched. “So. What did I miss?”
Nancy was the first to regain her composure. “Well, we were just going around the room and telling a little bit about ourselves. Amy’s a teacher …”
“Good to hear it.” Bev vigorously stirred her coffee. “Used to be one myself. Got my degree down at the college in Cedar Falls, then came back home and Clyde and I got married. First two years I taught here in Prosper, then at Eagle River for over two decades. Clyde and I farmed until last year, when he got sick.” Bev turned quiet, but only for a moment.
“We still have our horses and dogs up there in Rockwell Township. I saw the ad in the paper. Not much in it these days, but you’ve got to support anything that encourages people to read. I decided it’s time to get out more, I’ve been sitting at home too much lately. Well, that’s me.”
As everyone processed this deluge of information, Sam was the first to speak.
“You have horses. So, do you like Westerns?” He smiled and offered his hand. “I’m Sam, I run the insurance office down the street. And I really like Westerns.”
“Good to meet you, Sam. I do love a good Western. Anything from Louis L’Amour to Larry McMurtry, that suits me just fine. I think you and I are going to have a lot in common.”
While it became clear the new club’s members had varied tastes in books, it was also obvious everyone enjoyed robust discussion and debate. The hour passed quickly, and the night wrapped up with Ashley’s suggestion, a classic thriller, being drawn for the May meeting.
Nancy showed the last visitor to the door, then helped Melinda and Karen straighten up the meeting room.
“Well,” Nancy sighed, “that was interesting.”
Melinda and Karen looked at each other and burst out laughing. Then Nancy joined in.
“The library’s mission is to provide programming for everyone, regardless of age or background. Based on that alone, I think our little experiment is going to be a success.”
“It’s a diverse group, that’s for sure.” Melinda carefully rewrapped the few brownies left in the pan, as she could hear the wind rumbling on the roof now that the library was back to its usual muffled quiet.
“Animals are technically not allowed in city buildings, I think,” Nancy said as she wiped down the meeting room’s table. “Francesca might be a registered service animal, but I didn’t want to ask Vicki in front of everyone. She’s an adorable little dog, and very well-behaved.”
Karen sighed as she wrapped her slow-cooker’s cord around its base. “Well, I can assure you Francesca is up-to-date on her shots and in excellent health. When Vicki brought her into the clinic last week, she mentioned the book club and I told her everyone was welcome. I guess she took me at my word.”
CHAPTER 7
After months of hoping and worrying
, it all came down to twenty minutes in a quiet back office at First Federated Bank in Swanton. A stack of documents, a handful of signatures, and the farm was finally hers.
Melinda found herself teetering on the edge of her chair as the various papers were passed around the table, expecting at any moment that something, or someone, would suddenly appear and derail her dreams. She’d braced herself for more skeptical commentary from the loan officer, a dour man who’d raised several concerns at her pre-approval meeting in November. But even Don Hawkins was finally on board. Mostly.
“Well, I guess you made it through the winter out there.” He accepted her down payment check with a barely audible chuckle. “Maybe you’ll be able to carry on, then.”
Horace dropped his pen on the conference table and stared intently at Don with those piercing blue eyes. Melinda could feel Ron’s dread from across the table.
“There’s no one else I’d want to take over our farm,” Horace said in that calm, unhurried tone of his that made people listen. “Melinda’s going to take care of things. She’s like family, you know.”
Don’s smirk vanished. “Of course, of course.” His tone was suddenly apologetic. The Schermanns had been patrons of this financial institution for over a century, including back when there was a branch location in Prosper. “Now, Mr. Schermann, if you’ll just sign here. And while you’re in the bank today, we have a special on some certificates of deposit.”
“We need to stay on schedule.” Horace steadied the document with a veined, wrinkled hand before he added his scrawl to the bottom. “Got lunch reservations. That’s why I’m all dressed up.”
Ron raised an eyebrow at Melinda and fought back his laughter. Horace had insisted on a new blue plaid shirt for the occasion, and paired it with some rarely worn khakis. In all of his ninety years, he’d never set foot in the bank wearing jeans. Why start now?