Chapter 11

11

JOCELYN

I t feels like my heart is ping-ponging back and forth. Walker and I make cinnamon rolls to take to his grandpa, since they're apparently his favorite. Yet I still don't quite know how I feel about being introduced to him. It feels very… relationshippy .

Nobody brings a partner over to a senior family member's house unless things are serious, right? And I can't allow myself to give into these extremely large feelings that are spiraling around my heart until my head catches up.

As we drive up the mountain through a breathtaking patch of forest, I honestly cannot believe that I confessed my fears to Walker. And admitted my pathetic financial situation.

I expected him to roll his eyes and pull away from me. Instead, it feels like he wants to ignore the whole issue. Which is irresponsible on his part, to be honest. Doesn't he care about his own finances? His reputation? His future?

He deserves better than some girl who overspent on her education and will be catching up for years.

A slight shiver runs over me as he squeezes my knee, and I think about how he had held me so closely, comforting me when I told him about my debt. He really does care for me. He shows it every time he touches me, and the way he looks so deeply into my eyes.

Plus, he asked me to be his girlfriend. This amazing man is smashing through all of my carefully constructed mental walls and making me want to believe that this could be real.

I desperately want that, but I'm also a realist. Which means… I just don't know. My heart and my head are having some kind of fight, and I keep shoving them aside so that I can focus on what's in front of me.

We drive up yet another long, sloped hill, then I gasp as a house comes into view. "No way!" I shriek. "It's an honest-to-frick log cabin !"

Walker reaches over to squeeze my hand. "That was my great-grandfather's house. Now it's kind of a guest cottage. The main place is just this way."

He drives past the cottage and turns slightly to the left, and I gasp. The house is right on the edge of a cliff, giving it a breathtaking view of the valley. It's all wood beams and plaster, with enormous windows. There's a massive garage to the side, and a covered walkway joining the two buildings.

We've barely gotten out of the car when a sturdy old man comes bursting out. "There they are!"

He gives Walker a warm hug, slapping his back. He's not much shorter than his grandson. Then he turns to me, his dark eyes twinkling in his rough, tanned face. His salt and pepper hair is short and thick, with sideburns that are a bit too long to be fashionable, giving him a quirky look.

"Look out girl, I'm a hugger." He opens his arms, so I dive in, laughing as he swings me around twice. Then he holds up a hand to his mouth, as if that prevents me from hearing him. "Walker, she's gorgeous. Look at those eyes ."

"Easy, Grandpa."

The older man grins. "I'm Shane. Lovely to meet you, Jocelyn. Let's go inside."

They give me a quick tour of the main floor of the stunning house, then we settle in front of the fire with coffee and our homemade cinnamon buns. "Your grandma is off at her knitting group," Shane says to Walker. Then he turns to me. "I don't know if they actually do any knitting. I'll bet you a nickel they're really just drinking wine and gossiping about those TV shows with the women with perfect hair. What do you think?"

He pops a last piece of bun into his mouth, then rolls his eyes in ecstasy. "Nice work, kids. Those were delicious."

"Grandpa, Jocelyn is doing a bit of research on Old Hemlock Valley?—"

He chuckles. "Yeah, I've been hearing all about the student girls prying into people's business." He leans forward to tap my arm. "Just kidding, Jocelyn. I know it's a town history kind of deal."

"Yes. I've been looking into how the Wolfes and the Dirtys are connected."

For a split second, his eyes narrow. "Digging into our family secrets, are you?" Then he chuckles, rolling his eyes. "Obviously, the Wolfe businesses have their names all over this town. But the Dirty family had to pick something else. Nobody in their right mind would want to get their bread from the Dirty Bakery or produce from Dirty Fruit and Vegetables."

I love that he's still amused by his last name. Most people would think it was an annoyance.

Shane reaches out to smack Walker's knee affectionately. "But I think we turned out all right. A lot of family pride, even with a silly last name that makes people look at us funny."

"We saw on some old maps that it looked like the two families bought a bunch of land at the same time," Walker says.

"And my friends and I are assuming that they moved here together," I add. "Which means they also probably emigrated from Europe together?"

"Well, yes." Shane scratches the back of his head. "But we don't exactly tell people about it these days." His eyes flick back and forth shiftily. "What I'm saying is, this doesn't need to be talked about in the middle of the next Town Hall meeting or anything. You got me?"

I nod solemnly. "Of course."

"It was Aiden Dirty's idea to come here and buy up a bunch of cheap land around 1860. He talked his buddy Adler Wolfe into coming too. They both found wives during the preparations to travel over from Ireland, so they were ready to start families the second they had their cabins built."

"Ireland?" Walker looks shocked. "I heard that the Wolfe family came from Hungary."

"I thought it sounded like a German name," I add.

Shane shakes his head. "Nope. Both men were Irish. And they were hearing about this great territory that had been partially settled, but there was a huge stretch of the mountain where there was still land for sale. Nobody could get at it until they blasted a road through, though. A bit harder to live here, a bit harder to farm. But the land is fertile enough and the water is clean, so they came here and decided to start their own town together."

"So why does everyone think that Adler Wolfe founded it singlehandedly?" I ask.

He shrugs, settling back in his easy chair and taking a sip of coffee. "Well, according to family legend, they had different opinions on quite a few things. Aiden was an adventurer at heart, but he was also a bit quiet. Didn't want to stick out, you know? Not just because the name can't really go on a business sign. He didn't want people looking up to him as a role model, or a figurehead or anything. He was just a man who wanted to get this town going."

I glance at Walker, the strong, focused man who volunteers to drive people in their moments of need and shrugs it off as if it's nothing. Now I see where he gets it.

Shane turns to me. "You're here running a background check, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?"

He laughs as if I'd just told a five-star joke. "Don't play shy with me, missy. Y'all have just started dating, and you're checking out his family history to make sure he's a worthy man. I get it."

"I didn't… I wouldn't…"

He reaches out to pat my arm. "It's fine . His grandma did the same thing. It's smart. You don't hitch your horse to a cart until you know the cart isn't half-busted."

He sits back, waving his hand in the direction of the twenty-foot vaulted ceiling. "We keep our wealth quiet. Our houses are a bit further out of town. People know that we own Valley Auto, because the boys work there, but they don't seem to twig that the men in our family tend to retire around forty-five, then just work on little projects for themselves."

Suddenly I feel like a bad researcher for never asking about Walker's dad's work. I guess he doesn't have any.

"People don't know it, but we donate half of the operating expenses to keep the town running every year. We also own the grocery store with no name, Jim's Pizza, and The Bakery on Main."

" What? "

Walker reaches over to squeeze my hand. "I'd honestly forgotten about Jim's, sorry."

"So…yes," Shane continues. "Walker is a quality man. I wasn't going to let any of my kids or grandkids grow up spoiled, no matter how much money we have squirreled away. They all went to school and got good grades, traveled a bit to learn about the world, then came back here to do some hard labor for the people of this town."

His proud grin is adorable. "When people in our family get married, they get quite a good inheritance. That way they can retire early and really be there for their kids. Plus, the kids will never want for anything. You know…as long as they work hard and don't turn into assholes."

He shoots a dark look at Walker. "Which is why your cousin Larry was encouraged to move away. Greedy lazy jackass."

Walker chuckles, but my head is reeling. He's even wealthier than I thought. "But…wait… If someone doesn't get married, they don't get the money?"

Shane shrugs casually. "Oh, I'm always there when someone needs something. But getting married and setting up a home worthy of a quality woman usually takes a chunk of cash." He smirks toward Walker. "This one here never asked me for a thing past the age of ten?—"

"And yet ," Walker bursts in, "When I began shopping for a house with my own money because I could afford it now, the realtor only showed me houses that were, unbelievably, all priced at just one dollar. It was almost as if she was hiding something."

I laugh in pure shock. "Small-town people are weird. Y'all know that, right?"

They both laugh uproariously, then Shane pulls out some truly ancient maps to photograph. They're pretty much the same as the ones I already had, but they're in better condition and they have some nice drawings around the edges.

After a few minutes, an old TV show theme song rings out, and Shane pulls out his phone. "Your grandma will be done in a half an hour." He grins at us. "Want to come out to the garage and help me choose the most embarrassing car to go pick her up?"

Two minutes later, I'm pointing at a scarlet Pontiac TransAm with the thunderbird emblazoned on the front in hot orange flames.

"Classic. Perfect."

We walk back out past a Jeep, a pickup and four other cars, then Shane hugs us both goodbye. As he's squishing me, he whispers into my ear, "You're a lovely girl. Smart and sassy. I hope you've noticed how he stares at you with cartoon hearts in his eyes."

Once we're rolling down the driveway, Walker casually asks, "Would you like to come to my place for dinner?"

My head is spinning, and I'm afraid I might say something weird if I don't sort things out in my brain first. "I think I'd like to go home, if that's okay. I'm tired, and I have some catching up to do with one of my freelance jobs."

"Sure."

I'm not sure whether I sense disappointment in his tone. Maybe not. It feels like Walker already understands that I need alone time every so often.

He walks me to the front door, then pulls me into his arms for a long, snuggly hug. "I honestly didn't know that Grandpa drops cash on people when they get married. And because we have no direct connection to it anymore, I forgot about Jim's Pizza. He has a way of doling out information in little bits and pieces over the years when you least expect it."

"He really is a character."

"That he is." Walker beams. "You should see his eyes light up when he slides triple the money for a box of cookies when kids sell them in front of the grocery store in the fall. But he always pretends it's a big, dark secret."

He kisses me gently, as if he already guesses that my head is spinning with all this new information. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, sweetheart. Have a good night."

Even though there probably isn't a living soul for miles, he stands and waits until I'm safely inside with the door shut before returning to his truck.

Walker really cares about me. There's no question about that.

But with all of these strange family secrets and discovering that the money discrepancy between us is even more cavernous than I thought, I'm really going to have to take some time to think about whether my old nag of a horse is worthy of being hitched to his super shiny and not at all busted cart.