Page 61 of Hometown Girl

Up ahead on the east side of the property was one more outbuilding. As far as they knew, it had been used only for storage, so clearing it out didn’t even make his list. Only now as he walked toward it did he realize there might be things of use inside.

He whistled for Roxie, and she met him on a path that took him off to the left toward the barn. But before he cleared the trees, the sound of someone singing halted his steps.

“Rox,” he hissed. The dog circled around, then sat at attention.

He stilled, listening closely, wondering if he’d imagined it. Great. Now he was losing what was left of his mind.

But after a few seconds, a woman’s voice rang out, cutting through the silence of the woods at dusk.

He glanced at Roxie as if the dog could tell him how to proceed.

He took a few steps closer and realized the voice came from inside the outbuilding—a barn where Harold had stored his tractors. Smaller riding mowers were kept in a shed near the house—he knew because he’d had to stop work to show Molly how to mow the lawn. Twice.

The voice seemed to come from the second story. He glanced up at the windows lining the top of the structure. What would someone be doing out here in this old building?

For a split second, a wave of fear washed over him. But he quickly reminded himself that no woman, no matter how off-key, could really do him any harm.

Unless she, say, knocked him on the back of the head with a shovel.

He quietly pulled open the door, took a garden rake off a nearby hook and motioned for Roxie to stay close.

As he looked over the open space in front of him, a memory flashed in his mind. He’d been here before. He couldn’t wrap his mind around when or why, but as he inhaled the musty stench of dirt, familiarity washed over him.

The barn door opened directly underneath the second-floor loft, which covered only the right side of the structure. Dust particles danced on the waning light that filtered in through the windows, crisp and clear to match the outdoors.

The singing started up again. He startled, then inched to the left, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever was up there before whoever was up there caught a glimpse of him.

As he inched into the room, eyes scanning the loft above, he saw easels and artwork lining the ledge built around the loft space. The smell of bubblegum flooded his senses, and he closed his eyes for a long moment, trying to place the whirl of memories that assaulted his mind.

Nothing.

He dared a step farther into the barn, the only way to get a better look above. A wooden staircase jutted out in front of him, and he leaned in closer.

With one foot on the bottom step, he drew in a breath, preparing to intrude on whoever was up there, but before he could make a move, a woman’s face appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Hey!” she yelled as Roxie started barking. The chaos and surprise of the entire scene sent Drew backward, where he landed on the ground with a thud.

“Who are you?” the old woman shouted. She bounded down the stairs and stood above him, her frizzy red hair springing out in all directions. She wore a long robe of a dress. Strands of beads were piled around her neck, clanking together as she swung a long plank of wood around her head, agitating Roxie, who would attack if Drew gave her permission.

He wouldn’t.

“Roxie,” he said. The dog let out one more bark as if she couldn’t help herself and then stood, unhappily waiting for Drew to release her.

“Answer me,” the woman said.

“I work here.” He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the pain that shot down his backside. “I think a better question is: Who are you?”

The woman’s jaw went slack, and she gripped the wood plank a little tighter.

He grabbed the end of it. “Can you put this down?”

Her shoulders slumped as she sighed, allowing him to remove the plank from her clutches.

“Fine. You caught me. Call the cops.” She turned and walked back up the stairs, leaving him staring at Roxie, unsure what to do next.

“I can start packing now, I guess,” she called down.

He started up the stairs, cautiously. For all he knew, she was waiting above, ready to smack him on the head with another wood plank. He inched in carefully.

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