“All the time.”
“Then it’s my pleasure to prove we’re not all country-bumpkins around here, even if we don’t always look both ways before crossing the street.”
TWO
Chancy pulled up the winding, dusty drive and stopped her van in front of the two-story Collins farmhouse. It was a relic of a bygone era with the same kind of charm as the quaint antiques that filled her shop.
Hester had planted tall, colorful hollyhocks along a southwest-facing wall. The pale pink peonies were almost ready to flower and clematis vines had begun to creep up the archway framing the access to the front door. Soon after the peonies were done, an enormous hydrangea bush next to the raised porch would begin to droop under the weight of mop-head flowers in varying shades of pink and lavender. The overall effect was charmingly reminiscent of picture postcards prevalent in the forties and fifties.
Before Nate was fully out of the van his grandmother came dashing off the porch with a screech of delight and gathered him up in an ample welcoming hug. “I’m so proud you’re here!”
Blushing, he nevertheless returned her affectionate embrace. “I’m happy to see you, too.”
“Well, come in, come in.” She smiled at Chancy. “You, too, girl. Get out and come on in. You’re always welcome.”
“Thanks, Miss Hester. But right now I’ve got more stuff to pick up from the auction. Nate said we might be able to borrow your farm truck to haul it, if you don’t mind.”
The old woman’s gray eyebrows arched above the frames of her glasses and her smile widened as she looked from Chancy to Nate and back again. “’Course not. You two just go right ahead and take the truck. I’m glad to hear that some of poor Jewel’s precious things found a good home. Ted didn’t want me to go to the sale and I suppose he was right, I just wish…”
Breaking off, she glanced at the porch where her husband lounged in a white-painted rocking chair with the shaggy, black-and-white dog lying at his feet.
“If there’s anything in the van you fancy I’ll be glad to save it for you,” Chancy offered.
“I know it’s foolishness to value earthly possessions. Still…” Hester stood on tiptoe to peer in at the collection Chancy had amassed. “If I had just one special thing to remember Jewel by, it would do this old heart good.”
Nate spoke up. “We really should be getting back to the auction. Chancy left a big pile of stuff and we don’t want it to walk off while she’s gone.”
“’Course you don’t.” Hester backed away from the van. “You go on, now. I don’t need nothin’.”
Nate had replaced the short stack of framed pictures and photos on the passenger seat when he’d gotten out. Chancy leaned over, gathered them up and passed them to Hester through the open window. “Here. Look through these and keep all you want. I know there are several nice pictures of Pete and Jewel in the pile. I just bought them for the old frames.”
“Bless your sweet little heart,” Hester said with tears in her eyes. “What do I owe you?”
“Not a thing,” Chancy replied. “It’s my pleasure.”
“Then you have to come back for supper tonight. I fixed Nate’s favorite. Pot roast. We’ll eat as soon as y’all are done haulin’ and unloadin’.”
The look she shot her flabbergasted grandson allowed no argument so he immediately swallowed his objections and formally backed her up. “Yes. Please join us. I know you must be too tired to go home and cook.”
“That’s the truth,” Chancy said. “All right. I’ll be happy to come for supper. Thanks for asking.”
As Nate turned and headed for the pickup truck, he was shaking his head. Somehow, his well-thought-out plans for a serious talk with his grandparents had been sidetracked big-time. Well, it couldn’t be helped now. All he could hope for at this point was a peaceful meal and not too much inane conversation.
He snorted in self-deprecation. Anybody who recalled his detested nickname from a good fifteen years ago was probably full of colorful remembrances about his escapades as a wild teen; events he hoped his grandparents had either forgiven or forgotten. Or both.
The first thing he was going to have to do was win over Chancy Boyd and ask her not to make any embarrassing references to his past. The best way to ensure that, he reasoned, was to help her haul her auction purchases in Ted’s truck and then also offer to unload them.
It wasn’t a task Nate particularly relished volunteering for but in his view, some serious PR work was called for.
The auction was over and traffic had thinned by the time Chancy and Nate arrived back at the Hawkins place so they were easily able to find parking places. She drove past the closest one and left it for him so they could more efficiently load the truck.
Gesturing and pointing as she walked back toward him she called, “Over there. By that lilac bush. That whole pile is mine.”
“Wow. When you shop you don’t kid around, do you?”
Chancy had to chuckle at his astounded expression in spite of the fact she felt the same way when she looked at the enormous stack of bags and boxes. “Nope. When they group items like they did, it’s almost more trouble than it’s worth. Still, every once in a while I discover I’ve bought something really rare or valuable that I didn’t even know was there.”
“I hardly know where to start picking this up.”
“I know what you mean.” Pausing, hands fisted on her hips, Chancy scowled as she perused the haphazard pile of merchandise.
“What’s the matter?” Nate asked.
“I don’t know. It looks kind of messy, like somebody stirred it.”
“How in the world would you know?”
“I suppose you’re right. It just seems worse than it was when I put it here.” She shrugged. “Oh, well. Just grab any old box and let’s start stacking them in your truck. I don’t think there’s anything breakable. All the glass and china is already in my van.”
“Gotcha.” He grinned at her. “I mean, yes, ma’am.”
“You can drop the fake Southern charm,” Chancy said, mirroring his amiable expression. “Just keep up the Southern gentleman act for a while longer and I’ll be satisfied.”
Nate passed her carrying a precarious-looking stack of tattered cardboard boxes. “What makes you think it’s an act? Maybe I’m a true Southern gentleman. After all, Ted’s my granddad and you already said you liked him.”
Laughing lightly, she gathered up an armload of old blankets and quilts and followed Nate. “That’s true. And kinship is very important around here.”
After she’d unceremoniously crammed the blankets into the pickup bed, they started back to the main pile together. “Lots of young people leave the Ozarks, thinking things must be better in faraway places, then
