Small-Town Dreams and The Girl Next Door: Small-Town Dreams / The Girl Next Door. Kate Welsh

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      “Mountain View Hotel? Is that what he said?” She chuckled. “Oh, he’s a card, that Earl. We don’t have a hotel here in Mountain View.”

      Horrified, Cassidy stared at the woman. She’d given up on reaching the mountain resort of her daydreams, but she had to stay somewhere. “Then where will I stay? Earl made it sound as if I could be stuck here for days.”

      “In summer I sometimes rent rooms at the parsonage. Sort of a bed-and-breakfast kind of arrangement. That must be what he meant. That tease! You’re welcome to stay with us, even though I don’t usually rent in fall or winter. I can adjust the regular rate for the off-season, or leave it and include three meals either here or with the family.” She named what Cassidy thought sounded like a very fair rate and described a room that didn’t sound like a luxury suite but at least sounded comfortable.

      “That sounds fine. Can you tell me how to get to a local shop? I need to buy some clothes and personal items. This was an unplanned trip.”

      Irma pursed her lips. “Hmm. Well, there’s The Trading Post across the road. You can stop and get personal items and underthings there, but as for clothing, there’s nothing in town open in the off-season except the church thrift shop. I’m sure you could get by with what you find there.”

      Cassidy’s heart dropped. No little designer shop? No cute little mountain boutique? “A thrift shop?”

      Irma didn’t seem to notice Cassidy’s hesitation. “It’s a little ways on up the road. Last building out of town. Our home is right next door. The shop’s in back of the church building. You can’t miss it. It looks like a little version of the church but a lot newer. My son built it last summer.”

      Cassidy was appalled, but didn’t want to show it after Irma had been so kind. She felt small and petty to balk at wearing clothes from a thrift store. But this was the complete opposite of what she’d imagined, and she didn’t think she’d be able to wear something a stranger had worn and discarded. “A thrift shop,” she repeated.

      “There are some really nice things. You’ll see.”

      Nodding, Cassidy said, “I’ll go over after I eat. How long will it be before I can get into my room? Maybe if I sleep, this headache will go away.”

      “I’ll call Josh and warn him that you’re on your way over. He and Henry can get the room ready by the time you get there. I’ll go get your soup and be back in a jiffy.”

      

      “Hello, St. Luke’s Thrift,” Joshua said as he put the telephone receiver to his ear.

      “Josh, it’s Ma.”

      Joshua smiled. “Hi, Ma. I was just about to close up shop here and go in to wake Henry.”

      “I need you to do a couple things for me. Make sure the ivory-and-lavender bedroom is all made up and sparkling. We’ve got a young lady coming to stay a few days. She’ll be needing some things from the shop, too.”

      “Another lost soul?”

      “Smarty,” she scolded with a smile in her voice. “She’s a paying guest, so, no, not lost in the usual way, but…”

      Now Josh heard compassion enter Irma’s tone. Here it comes, he thought, and sighed. “But what?”

      “Well, I guess that having enough money to pay your way isn’t everything in life. I’m not sure she’s real healthy, either, but I can see she’s not happy even when she smiles. You’ll see. She should be there in a while. I just gave her a bowl of soup and a cup of tea.”

      Chuckling, Josh hung up the phone to once again help Irma give aid to a needy person. He wanted to tell her to worry about herself for a change. She worked too hard. Relaxed too little. But how could he try to curb her from bringing home her strays after all she’d done for him?

      Of course, there wasn’t a thing amiss in the room Irma had asked him to see to, so after waking Henry, Joshua returned to the thrift shop to await the woman.

      A few minutes later the bell above the door tinkled. Joshua looked up, not knowing what to expect. Then he just stared. He might not have known what to expect, but it certainly hadn’t been anyone like the young woman who entered and approached the counter. Joshua stood automatically.

      “Hello,” she said as she stalked toward him. “Irma from the diner sent me here. I’ll be renting a room for a few days. She said I might find a few things to tide me over till my car is finished. Can you direct me to the size eights?”

      Joshua couldn’t seem to respond. Had Irma lost her mind? This was her lost soul? This take-charge woman in the two-thousand-dollar suit? He had no idea how he knew what her suit must have cost, but he often knew things without knowing how he knew them.

      “Excuse me?” the young woman said, now standing directly in front of him.

      Joshua realized he was staring straight ahead at her navy suit, and looked quickly up into the sweetest face he’d ever seen. It was heart-shaped, and her skin looked like translucent silk. Her bottom lip was full and the top a perfect bow. She had a nose that tipped up, giving her the look of a woodland sprite. The face did not match the attitude.

      Then he looked a millimeter higher into the saddest eyes he’d ever seen. They were gray-blue and shadowed with unhappiness and even a hint of physical pain, as well. Yeah. Irma was right once again. The woman could certainly pay her way but she was just as certainly a lost soul.

      “May I help you?” he asked, knowing she’d asked him a question yet unable to recall it.

      “The size eights. I asked where you have the eights,” she said slowly as if he were deaf or too dull-witted to understand her.

      Joshua felt his hackles rise. Then he looked again at the woman. Irma thought she needed help. He guessed he could show enough Christian charity to swallow his anger at being patronized.

      “Everything for women is in the front of the shop. All jeans are in the middle. Men’s to the left. Women’s to the right. The men’s clothes are behind the jeans. Kids’ clothes are all the way to the rear.” He pointed to the signs hanging above each section. With the Lord’s help, he managed not to put voice to his anger.

      Joshua watched her walk through the room as if she might catch something from clothes once worn by others, and his anger flared anew. “Ma washes everything before anything gets added to the stock,” he said through gritted teeth before he could stop himself.

      She pivoted toward him and her cheeks flamed. “I’ve never had to—” She took a deep breath, shook her head slightly and tried again, “I’m sorry. I’ve just never been…”

      “Down on your luck? Hard up enough to wear hand-me-downs?” Joshua sat back down on the stool behind the counter and leaned his back against the wall, his arms crossed.

      He could actually see her temper slip its restraints. “Not having faced tough times financially isn’t a crime. I’m not used to shopping like this. So shoot me! I need some clothes and these are all that’s available. I can roll with the punches as good as the next guy.” Her hand came up to squeeze her forehead. “I’m sorry. Could we start over?” She returned to the counter and reached her hand out to him. “I’m Cassidy Jamison.”

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