Don't Open That Door - GoM 1

Echoes - 4

Father Jason's Ford Ranger was parked outside Pete McKayne's workshop. Alex parked the Hilux behind it, with the table she'd just picked up at Clarisse's in the back. Pete came out with Father Jason to the cool, bright morning, while Alex removed the tarp covering the table. The carpenter saw it and went back in to call his son for help.

"Morning, Alex," the priest greeted, approaching the Hilux. "I've just seen the shelves you ordered. You should be ashamed of hiding such fine cases under books."

"I can't, Father. I've got a whole lotta books coming!"

Pete and his son Harry joined them to unload the table. Father Jason waited for them to head back into the workshop, carrying the heavy table, and turned to Alex again.

"Listen, Alex, I have to go now, but I'd like to have a word with you. Can you come see me later today?"

"Sure, Father. Does it work for you after the noon service?"

"Yes, perfect. See you at noon, then."

The priest smiled and headed to his truck. Alex swallowed a sigh. She knew what he wanted to talk about, and she needed to find a way to speak her mind without offending the priest.

Inside the workshop, she found Pete inspecting the table. His big fingers paused at every scratch and mark, like memorizing them.

"This junk doesn't need restoring, Al," he said. "It needs a damn miracle. Look! Somebody scratched letters on it!"

"I only need the legs and sides to look good, Pete."

The carpenter spotted the varnish can in her hand and frowned. She held her eyes with a little smile.

"You ain't expecting me to use that."

"It's the same hue, Pete."

"Says who? Clarisse? Like she knew anything about woods!"

"What is it with you two? She refused to go to prom with you a century ago or something?" Alex chuckled when the carpenter stiffened and scowled. "Forget about her, Pete. This is my table, and this is the varnish I want you to use on it."

Pete took the can, grunting under his breath. His son Harry joined them, phone in hand to take pictures of the table.

"I like to keep the before-and-after of the furniture we restore," he explained to Alex. "Don't worry, I won't steal its soul."

Alex chuckled again, nodding. "Gotta go now. Don't forget the cases, Pete. I have the first books coming in a couple of days."

"Then your pretty junk will have to wait."

Alex held his eyes, raising her eyebrows a little. Pete snorted and looked away.

"Okay, okay! I can finish the large case in two days. The others will be ready next week."

Alex didn't even blink.

"Fine! The large case and the table."

Alex's lips curled up in a bright smile. "Thanks, Pete!"

She left before the carpenter could change his mind and headed to the bank, to pick up the few things she still had there.

There were moments when she felt out of breath, trying to process all the sudden changes in her life. Only a month earlier, things were just like they'd been for years. She worked fulltime at the bank and Claire worked the mornings at Jill's diner, like she'd done since she'd finished high school. She did it mostly to help Jill, because her daughter was gone to college, and to keep learning from Jill's cook Polly, the best in town, following her plan to open her own diner in a few years.

Before their vacations in Montana, Alex would meet her friends a couple of times a week at Clyde's, and lately, those get-togethers would end with some time alone with George. Which made them so much better. Even though George barely knew her, he seemed to have a sixth sense to perceive what Alex needed, and he always managed to deliver. Being with him helped Alex let go of anything worrying her or upsetting her, and that was only one of the things she liked so much about him.

As for Claire, she and Ollie were going through one of their breaks, but everybody knew it wouldn't last much longer, because those two just couldn't function away from each other.

Their lives flowed in a quiet, nice routine Alex cherished.

And then, in a heartbeat, everything had changed.

First what had happened in Montana. And they were hardly back when George had given her the surprise of such a perfect place to fulfill her dream of opening a bookstore.

So a week earlier, after eight years, Alex had quit her job. Jimmy Olson, the bank manager, had repeated she could have her post back whenever she wanted to, even part-time. It was so nice of him, but Alex hoped the bookstore will hit the ground running and she wouldn't need a part-time job to make ends meet.

That morning, on her way out of the bank offices, she stopped by Olson's to say goodbye. The manager was talking with Rod Smith, and she overheard them talking about the late Neil Logan and the mortgage debt he'd left behind. Looked like Kat was about to receive more bad news.

She found George completely absorbed before his drawing board, Cold Play whispering in the air, ink-stained hands on his hips, a marker in his mouth and another behind his ear, a serious frown on a blueprint. However, a smile lit up his face when he saw Alex come into the small studio upstairs from the broker's office.

"Hey!" he said, taking the marker from his mouth.

"Hey."

Alex knew he expected at least a peck, but she kissed his cheek and turned to board.

"What are you up to now?" she asked. "I'm not an expert, but I can tell that's not the Palmer house you're restoring for Markus."

"Oh, no, this is something I'm working on my spare time." George motioned for her to approach his desk and showed her what he had on screen. "What d'you think?"

"George Carson! Did you flee your big city to come build developments here?"

Her scold made him laugh. "It's not a development! It's a campground, see? Six cabins and a camping area."

"We already have Vincent's campground, and Boulder Creek's."

"And they're always overflowing in summer. This is a small complex to be built just south of Boulder Creek."

"That's a protected area."

"There are private facilities at the north end of Baker Lake, so I should be able to get this approved too. And this complex would make tourists spend their money here, in town. I'm working on a general view to show to Mayor Dickinson."

"Major Dick is in?"

George chuckled, like every time he heard somebody call the Mayor that way. Everybody loved the man, who had been in office for ages. Yet, their particular sense of humor made them call him that as a token of their support.

"Sure he's interested. It's a good way to create new jobs and increase the town's income."

"I always said we should close our border."

George slid an arm around her waist, bringing her closer. "You're not exactly hostile to outsiders," he said, kissing her before she could argue. "Did you have lunch? I've been up here all morning and I'm starving."

"I'm on my way to meet with Father Jason, but we can have lunch later, if you can hold on a while longer."

"Okay, I'll wait for you."

Alex decided to ignore the hundred meanings of his words. "Great. I'll text you when I'm done. We can meet at Jill's and see what's on Claire's menu for lunch."

"Sounds like a plan."

She left with one last smile and George turned to his board, letting out a heartfelt sigh. Alex had been avoiding any kind of intimacy with him ever since she'd come back from Montana, to the extent that they were only meeting at public places. His gut advised patience, but sometimes he felt like giving her some kind of ultimatum. Which, he knew, would only backfire in his face.