Home Again Read online

  Home Again

  by Lisa Emme

  Thank you for purchasing this ebook. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite authorized retailer.

  Thank you for your support!

  Copyright © 2016 Lisa Emme

  All Rights Reserved

  epub Edition

  ISBN 978-0-9948288-7-3

  Cover design by

  Jody Sie - Better Together Photograpy

  Photo Credit: ThinkStock

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s wild and crazy imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Visit Lisa at

  www.lisaemme.com

  Table Of Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  Last Word

  Coming Soon!

  About the Author

  Back Cover

  For my dear friend the FABULOUS Christina,

  my alpha reader from the start.

  Without your encouragement

  I wouldn’t even be doing this.

  More importantly, you pointed out

  that Mike would want his steak RARE.

  The bank was exactly the way she remembered it, from the high arched ceiling with small circular windows, to the large torch-like sconces that cast the light up high before it bounced back down, illuminating the large area below. When she was a child she used to imagine that the lights were real torches and she was inside a castle. After all, everyone knew that only castles had marble floors.

  The marble tiles were set in a pattern that reminded her of a checkerboard but with varying shades of white and grey instead of black. She could remember jumping from white square to white square – don’t step on the grey! – much like her five year old son was doing now.

  “Miss Daniels?” The woman was short and squat and, with her hand on the hip of her flowery-print dress, she reminded Allie of a teapot.

  “Yes, that’s me. Allison Daniels, but you can call me Allie.”

  “Good Afternoon, I’m Margie Hildahl.” She held out her hand in the limp-wristed fashion older ladies often adopted. Allie wondered if she was supposed to shake it or kiss it. Choosing the former, she grasped the dry, papery hand in a firm, but gentle handshake.

  “If you’d just follow me, you can wait to speak with Mr. Mason over here in the waiting area.”

  “Is there a problem? I thought I just needed to sign something.”

  “Oh, no dear, no problem. Mr. Mason just likes to meet all of our new clients.” She beamed at Allie, her lips turned up in a self-satisfied smile. “Gives things a more personal touch, don’t you think?”

  “Uh, yes. Sure. But I’m not really a new client just…” Allie shrugged, not wanting to go into detail. Glancing round for the small bobbing head, she called to her son, “Dougie, c’mon little man. Over here please.”

  “Coming Mommy.”

  The little boy skipped from square to square, teetering precariously over the occasional grey one before reaching her side.

  “Mommy, be careful! You’re standing in a shark zone.”

  Allie looked down. Sure enough, she was standing on a grey square. “Yikes! Can’t have that.” With an exaggerated sidestep hop, she moved over to a white square. “Whew! You saved my life.”

  Her son beamed up at her, pleased that she was playing along. Allie looked over at Mrs. Hildahl who stood waiting, a dumbfounded look on her face.

  “Sorry,” Allie said. “I was distracted by the sharks. You were saying?”

  “Hmmm, yes.” Mrs. Hildahl looked at Allie, her lips drawn in a thin line. “If you would walk this way.” With an abrupt turn, she waddled off. Allie bit her lip to keep from laughing. Either that woman’s skirt was too tight or her shoes were pinching. Visions of a Monty Python skit danced before her eyes. I wonder what Mrs. Hildahl would think if I really did walk that way? With a shake of her head at the silly thought, Allie gathered up her shopping bags and followed.

  Mrs. Hidahl led Allie and her son, still hopping from square to square, to a set of doors that opened to a side office. Beyond the doors, the marble floor ended, replaced by a worn, industrial grey carpet.

  “Ah nuts!” the little boy muttered when he realized that his game of ‘shark zone’ was at an end.

  “Dougie, manners please.” Allie looked down at her son and tried to keep the smile from her face.

  “Sor-ry.”

  Mrs. Hildahl stopped in the middle of the small waiting area and pursed her lips. “Here we are. Can I get you a drink? Coffee? Tea?”

  “Oh, no thank you. I’m fine.”

  “All right then. Mr. Mason should be with you shortly.” She turned and waddled back out the way they had come.

  “Mommy look! A toy box.” Dougie ran to the small box of toys in the corner of the room as Allie looked around.

  No illusions of castles here. The room looked like a doctor’s waiting room – something they had seen far too many of – with grey, fabric-covered chairs lined up along two walls on opposite sides of the room. The walls were a tired looking eggshell colour with store-bought, pre-framed inspirational posters hung at regular intervals. How depressing. With a sigh, she set her shopping bags down on the floor and took a chair on the opposite side of the room from the toy box, under a row of high windows. Couldn’t they just give me a toaster or something? I could use a toaster. I just want to finish up and get home.

  Home. It was funny how they, whoever they were, said you couldn’t go home again. And yet, here she was. Home. She frowned. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been back before. Even though she had moved away to the city, she still had managed to visit as often as she could to help out with the farm. But now Allie was back and there was no other home to go to. For better or worse, she was home. Home to the small town she thought she had left behind. Home to the gossip and closed-minded thinking that seemed to go hand in hand with small towns. Home to the memories of schoolyard bullies and disapproving stares.

  Of course, growing up here hadn’t been all bad. She couldn’t really complain about her childhood. Despite everything, her aunt and uncle had made sure she had a loving environment in which to flourish. She had friends too, f
riends that didn’t care about the gossip and the dirty looks. She glanced over at the little chestnut-haired bundle of energy digging through the toy box. Home. It would be a good place to raise a child. I hope.

  Allie squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. It was not as if she had much choice. She was home, at least for the foreseeable future. She was sure it wouldn’t take long for word to get out that she was back and she wondered how long it would take for her to become the centre of town gossip again. First she lost her job when the company she worked for folded, and then…she shivered not even wanting to think about it. Mrs. Hildahl is probably activating the gossip line right now.

  The sound of footsteps outside the door snapped her out of her reverie. At last! Let’s get the personal stuff done so I can get out of here. She looked at the doors expectantly and remembered the last time she met Mr. Mason. He had been the bank’s Assistant Manager then. Tall and thin, with an equally thin mustache, he had stood over her like a vulture as the teller counted out her meagre savings and closed her account out. You would have thought it was his money I was taking.

  She was still picturing Mr. Mason’s pencil thin mustache and greying sideburns when the doors swung open. But it wasn’t Mr. Mason who appeared. Hello, Mr. Yummy.

  Lean and athletic, maybe a little short for her taste, but still taller than her, the man practically dripped sex appeal. He was holding the door open for Mrs. Hildahl.

  “Ladies first,” the man said with a smile.

  Mrs. Hildahl giggled. She actually giggled like a schoolgirl, her hand resting on her chest. “Oh, aren’t you a gentleman.” She swished into the room. “Now you just wait here Dr. Finn. Mr. Mason would like to greet you personally. Shall I get you a refreshment?”

  “Why thank you. I would love a glass of water, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

  “No trouble at all, Doctor.

  Mrs. Hildahl turned on her heel and Allie was sure she added an extra wiggle to her waddle as she left the room. She looks like a giant penguin in a dress. Unable to help herself, she laughed out loud and then covered her mouth in embarrassment. The man looked over across the room and smiled. Wow! He had the most gorgeous eyes Allie had ever seen. They were green, bright green, like the colour of newly mown grass. Realizing she was staring, she blinked and nodded a hello before turning away to watch her son.

  ***

  Mike held the doors open for the older lady, Mrs. Hildahl, who giggled. He was used to having women flirt with him, but this was ridiculous. She’s old enough to be my grandmother.

  His throat was dusty from the ride into town on his Harley, so he asked for a glass of water. As the older woman turned and left, a feminine laugh caught his attention. He looked across the room. Hello, beautiful.

  Mike looked at the attractive blonde with appreciation. Now there was a woman who looked good without even trying. He never liked the way some women made themselves up with too much makeup. But not this beauty, she was a natural. Her dark blonde hair, cut short and shaggy, was already beginning to lighten with the summer sun. She was wearing khaki, crop-legged pants that hugged her curvy hips, accentuating her slender, but not too skinny, waist. Her green top clung to the curves of her breasts, not too ample, more like a good handful. The smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks spoke of a childhood spent out in the sun and she had the creamy complexion of someone who would probably burn first, tan later. She self-consciously tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear as their eyes met. Mike stood, mesmerized. The woman blinked and stiffened, then gave a quick nod hello before suddenly turning away.

  ***

  Allie let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding as the man walked across the room to a chair opposite of where she was sitting. He had a worn, brown Stetson in his hand, which he placed on the chair beside him. He pulled something from his back pocket and threw it down beside the hat and then ran a hand through his shaggy, light brown hair.

  From the corner of her eye, Allie watched him settle into the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. He was wearing beat up cowboy boots that looked as worn as his hat and his jeans looked like they had seen better days too. A brown, waffle patterned crew-necked shirt completed the look. Even though it was still early summer, his arms, where the long-sleeves had been pushed up to his elbows, were already the deep brown of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors. She realized she was staring again and quickly looked away, pretending to be absorbed in the Bald Eagle poster that told her to ‘Dare to Soar’.

  ***

  “Are you a real cowboy doctor?”

  Mike looked down at the small boy who had come to stand beside him. The boy gestured to his hat.

  “Well, I don’t know about that. More like a cow doctor than a cowboy,” Mike said, smiling kindly.

  “Huh?”

  “I think he means he’s a veterinarian – an animal doctor,” the woman, who must have been the boy’s mother, said to her son. “Now why don’t you bring a toy over here and quit bothering the nice man?”

  “Don’t worry. He’s no bother.” Mike reached over to the object he had placed beside his hat. It was a stethoscope. “Do you know what this is for?”

  “Sure. That’s a stethscope so you can listen to my heart beeps.”

  “Well, aren’t you a smart one. Do you want to give it a try?”

  The boy looked at his mom pleadingly. “Can I, Mommy?”

  “Sure, but be careful. It’s not a toy.”

  “No worries, it’s not that breakable.” Mike helped the boy place the stethoscope to his ears then sprang up from his chair in a graceful motion.

  ***

  Allie blinked and jumped to her feet as the man rose gracefully from his chair and began to cross the distance between them.

  “Name’s Mike. Mike Finn.” He stuck out his hand confidently, a broad smile on his face.

  “Allie Daniels and that’s my son, Dougie. You must be the new vet working with Doc Mundy.” She took his hand and shook it firmly, Mike noted approvingly. He always hated the wimpy handshakes some women felt they should give.

  “That’s right. Just got into town the other day.”

  “We’re new too. Did your house get burned up like ours did?” asked the small voice that suddenly appeared at his side.

  Mike looked down at Dougie in confusion. “What? No, no my house didn’t burn down,” he replied.

  “Our whole 'partment did because the bad men’s grass got burned up and now we have to live here and all our clothes stink even though Mommy has washed them twice.”

  “Dougie! What have I said about over-sharing?” Allie felt the blush staining her cheeks.

  “Sor-ry.” The little boy hung his head and she reached out to ruffle his hair affectionately. She bent down to give him a kiss on the forehead and sent him on his way back to the toy box.

  Embarrassed, Allie stood and looked at Mike, feeling the urge to explain. “We were living in the city. Our apartment was destroyed when the unit below ours caught on fire. Seems our neighbours were into recreational horticulture, if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh…OH! That must have been some fire.”

  “I think the whole neighbourhood was high for a week. Unfortunately, just about everything we owned went up in smoke.”

  “That’s awful.”

  Not wanting to see the concern in his eyes, Allie glanced away, quickly changing the subject, “Yes, well….Thank you. For the distraction I mean.” She gestured to her son who was in the process of trying to listen to the heartbeat of the large plant in the corner.

  Mike laughed and took a step towards the little boy. “Hey partner, plants don’t have heartbeats.”

  “Oh, that’s good ‘cause I thought it must be dead.”

  “Miss Daniels?”

  Startled, Allie turned to the voice b
ehind her. It was Mr. Mason. “Yes, Mr. Mason. It’s nice to see you again,” she said, reaching out to shake his outstretched hand.

  “If you’ll just step into my office.” Mr. Mason gestured towards the office door then turned to look at Mike. “Dr. Finn, this won’t take but a minute.”

  Allie looked over to her son who seemed to be engrossed in conversation with Mike. Mike looked up and smiled at her. “Go ahead. We’ll be fine here,” he said.

  She looked over to the open door of Mr. Mason’s office. It had a direct view of where Dougie and Mike sat. “Okay. Thanks.” She smiled at him gratefully. “Dougie, you stay here with Dr. Finn. I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay, Mommy.”

  ***

  When Allie stepped back into the waiting room a minute or two later, she found her son giggling at the face Mike was making. Sprawled in a chair, with his mouth set crooked, his eyes closed and his tongue sticking out, she assumed that he was ‘playing dead’.

  “You look like the dead skunk we saw this morning. He smelled awful.” Dougie laughed again.

  At Allie’s chuckle, Mike jumped to his feet. “Well, I hope I at least smell better.”

  Allie took a deep breath, her eyes fluttering closed. Yep, he did smell good - a spicy combination of soap and hard-working man. Mmmm, like sex on a stick. When she opened her eyes again, she found herself looking into his incredible green eyes. Mike’s mouth twisted in a wry grin, as if he knew what she was thinking.

  “Come on little man. Time to go.” Embarrassed again - get a grip girl, you just sniffed the man - she held out her hand to her son. “Thank Dr. Finn for letting you try his stethoscope.”

  “Thank you,” Dougie said, reluctantly handing the stethoscope back to Mike.

  “No problem, kiddo.”

  Gathering her shopping bags, she nodded to Mike. “It was a pleasure meeting you Mike.”