Homespun Christmas Read online

  The mayor and his dad had searched everywhere, including Brooks’s safety deposit boxes, but the document had yet to surface.

  Joshua sat back, lost in thought. The company Myka was working to get off the ground would benefit from having rail service. That would really cut shipping costs, particularly on the larger items. It made sense for him to continue his dad’s work and see where it led.

  After a moment, Joshua checked his own email account. Most of the messages were spam, but two were from architectural firms he’d applied to. The first was a generic “thank you for your interest” rejection letter from an Albuquerque firm. The second, from a consulting company in Seattle, informed him that the owners had decided to retire and were in the process of closing down for good.

  He gazed out the window and, seeing the lights were still on at Myka’s, his thoughts drifted. He’d dreaded coming back, yet now that he had, he realized everything had changed, including his own perceptions of Independence and its residents. The only place where things had remained the same was in the landscape of his mind.

  As he watched, the lights over at Myka’s went out one by one. He’d hoped they could be friends, but the attraction between them was too strong. The longer they were around each other, the more dangerous the situation would become.

  He was falling in love with her all over again, and she might feel the same way. His plans were set—he was going to resume his career, which meant he’d have to leave Independence. Yet this was where Myka’s roots were firmly planted. If he stayed because of her—and that would be the only reason—he’d end up a failure, at least to himself. There was no guarantee that their love would endure anyway. And for Myka’s sake, he couldn’t ask her to give up all she valued and go with him. They just didn’t have a future together, unless he or Myka surrendered what each valued most. The sacrifice would come back to haunt them sooner or later.

  He muttered a curse and turned back to the computer. The sooner he got out of this town, the better. With that in mind, he got down to business, creating a plan that Myka could follow to set up her company. Once that was done, there would be no reason for him to stick around.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MYKA GLANCED OUT the window and saw Will’s squad car go by. Since the town hall meeting a week ago, he’d been driving past at night more often. She’d seen him cruising down the street at midnight last night, and now here he was at eight-thirty in the morning.

  Myka padded to the kitchen in her bunny slippers, poured herself another cup of coffee, then walked out onto the back porch with Bear. “Okay, guy, playtime.”

  As the dog wandered off, she sat down on the stoop and sipped her coffee. She was dressed comfortably in a pair of jeans and her favorite old, baggy wool sweater. Over the past few years, she’d repaired the worn spots by embroidering over them. The dark blue wool was now decorated with multicolored daises, their size depending on the hole that needed to be covered.

  Myka kept an eye on the dog as he meandered around, sniffing the various places that caught his attention. He stayed away from the sheep, who were feeding, and when he was finally done, he came back to her.

  Myka put her coffee down and hugged him. “I’m glad you’re here, Bear, and that you’re mine.”

  “Are you going to change his name?” Joshua’s voice came from the far side of the house.

  Myka jumped, and Bear placed himself between her and Joshua.

  “You almost gave me a heart attack,” Myka said. “How do you move so quietly?”

  Joshua stayed where he was. “That dog’s on edge. Maybe you should put him inside.”

  Myka placed her hand on the dog’s head and instantly his tail started to wag. “He’s okay. You startled both of us, that’s all. Believe me, if Bear had really considered you a threat, you’d be flat on the ground with him on top of you.”

  “I heard about his run-in with Daniel,” Joshua said.

  “So what brings you here this morning?” she asked, warming her hands on the coffee mug.

  “I made a list of items you need to take into account when you write up your business plan.”

  “I’m still trying to sort out the partnership details,” she said. “Everyone will get a share of the profits, but there should be some kind of incentive for the most productive members of the company, too.”

  “I’m sure there are business software packages that can be adapted to whatever formula you come up with.” He watched her for a moment longer. “But something else is bothering you, isn’t it?”

  She gave him a tired smile. “This morning I tried to expand my website to include the various kinds of merchandise we’ll be carrying, and everything crashed. I’ll have to revamp the entire site. On top of that, I still have to write copy and post an image for each new item and package current orders so they ship on time,” she said, her voice rising, though she was trying to stay calm.

  “You’ll need to start delegating some of those duties. If you apply for a start-up loan, you can hire someone. Let’s go to your computer, and I’ll show you where to begin.”

  She pointed down the hall. “My office is the first room on the right.” Myka followed Josh inside with Bear at her heels.

  “I’ve got a basic outline for your executive summary. Of course you’ll have to fill in the blanks, but I’ll help you as much as I can. You’ll also need a license and insurance. The sooner the better,” he said, taking a flash drive from his pocket. “If we start the paperwork right now, we can get the bulk of it done by the end of the morning.”

  “Slow down, will you? I haven’t even finished my coffee,” she said, and took a shaky breath.

  “Setting up an LLC can be complicated. Ask Robyn to come over and do some of the computer work while we take care of the rest,” he said. “I’ll upload the file and start filling out some of the forms while you contact her.” He inserted the flash drive into a USB port. “I’ve got this.”

  “Will you give me a minute to think?”

  “Go call Robyn. I’ll handle this part.”

  “Stop it. You’re issuing orders.”

  He glared at her. “I’m trying to help you.”

  “You’re not. You’re taking over,” she snapped.

  He rose to his feet, his hands trembling slightly. “Handle it on your own, then. I’ve got other things to do. See you around.” He strode out the door without looking back.

  Alone in her office, Myka listened to the silence, then bent down to hug the dog. “He doesn’t get it, Bear. Taking over and helping are two very different things.”

  The dog sighed softly and wagged his tail.

  * * *

  STILL ANGRY AT the way things had gone with Myka, Joshua grabbed a printout listing the properties Mayor Allen had included in his contract. He had work to do, so why was he still thinking about her? Even if he had come on too strong, he’d only been trying to help.

  He pushed Myka from his mind. Today, he’d go and take some photos—starting with the Brooks Mansion.

  Grabbing his pocket camera—he’d sold his expensive Nikon during the attempt to save his business—Joshua went outside. As he walked to his pickup, he glanced at Myka’s house. No one was about.

  Josh slipped behind the wheel. Next stop, town hall to pick up the keys.

  * * *

  SEVERAL MINUTES LATER, Joshua parked his pickup on Main Street in front of the Brooks Mansion and climbed out. The estate was comprised of two sections. This structure, a blend of Moorish and Spanish Mission architectural styles, had been the business offices of Brooks Enterprises. The rear structure, the residence, was traditional Territorial, and they were linked by a tunnel in the form of an arched corridor.

  Joshua stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the imposing doorway, which featured an ogee arch. The double doors were thick oak, five panele
d, and chip carved by hand. The lock, however, was modern and secure. He took a step up and inserted the key.

  Once inside, he looked around and smiled. The front room was spacious and meant for entertaining. Large chairs and benches were scattered about, but he paid little attention to the furnishings. Instead, he concentrated on the mosaic tile bordering the large fireplace and the Southwest landscape fresco on the largest wall. He brought out his cell phone and began taking pictures.

  As he walked from room to room, he noted the places where ceramic flooring tiles were missing or loose and checked for thin lines on the walls showing where masonry was cracked. These were all minor cosmetic problems, however; not structural issues.

  Next, he headed for the underground corridor. The passageway between the two structures was built in a New World Spanish Mission style with a plain white arched hallway, brick floor and very few decorations. The light fixtures were leafy, wrought-iron wall sconces with electric candles.

  A large oak door gave access to the residence, up one flight of stairs. Inside, the older adobe house was solid but simple. There were nichos, boxlike hollows built into the walls, used to display religious icons.

  Several of the rooms had kiva fireplaces, and all but the smallest featured vigas—large, peeled round logs used as ceiling beams.

  There were a lot more drawers, cabinets and storage spaces here. He opened a few out of curiosity, wondering if the missing will and other papers might be hidden in one of these. Then again, his father had undoubtedly searched through them already.

  Finally, he stepped out to the courtyard, floored with brick and tile, and decorated with stone tables and metal chairs. There were five small, bare trees surrounded by a thick blanket of leaves. Organic debris had blown everywhere, and nearly filled the empty compound circling the decorative fountain. Josh could tell it wouldn’t take much to restore what had been a quiet retreat.

  He put away his cell phone, having taken dozens of photos already. Then he looked at his watch, knowing he still needed to check out the other properties. After that was done, he’d come back and spend some more time exploring. The Brooks Mansion had exceeded even his childhood imaginings. Someday, perhaps, a son or daughter of his would be sitting beside a fountain like the one out there, dangling their toes in the cool spray and laughing with the innocence only a child could have.

  * * *

  MYKA WAS SITTING at her desk looking through Joshua’s file when she heard a knock on the front door. Answering it and finding Sophie, Myka invited her inside.

  “I saw Josh leave about an hour ago,” Sophie said with a tiny smile. “Did he spend the night?”

  Myka drew in a sharp breath. “Are you nuts? No! We’re just friends—at least we were. Right now I’m not so sure.”

  “You two have a fight?” Seeing Myka nod, she added, “Did you get into it as friends, or were you arguing with the company’s consultant?”

  “Both—I think,” she said, walking back to the kitchen with Sophie and offering her a cup of coffee.

  A moment later they sat at the table, mugs of fresh brew in front of them. “Okay, fess up. What happened this morning?” Sophie asked.

  Myka explained, then added, “I hate being rushed into making decisions. It reminds me of what happened after Tanner passed on, when the insurance people and lawyers came out of nowhere, all wanting me to give them instant answers.”

  “To do things the right way, you’re going to need his input, Myka. Don’t shut him out.”

  Myka took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I know. You’re right, but having Joshua tell me what to do was hard.”

  “Because he’s so hot?”

  “That’s not what I was going to say,” Myka answered, biting back a smile. “It was difficult because I wanted to prove to myself that I could handle it, not just follow directions.”

  After finishing her coffee, Sophie left, and Myka went in search of her boots. She had to check the water for her sheep, then lay out some more hay. The pasture was getting a bit bare, and with winter coming on, she needed to compensate.

  Once she finished with that, she’d go talk to Joshua. Sophie was right. This was no time for sore egos.

  She thought of all the work he’d put into the business plan and the research that had involved. She needed to thank him and apologize.

  She was the real problem, not him. Joshua’s energy and his relentless pursuit of whatever goal he fixed on made him exciting to be around. He was strong, masculine and sure of himself, and she’d have to fight not to get swept up in all that.

  She stopped by the hall mirror and took a hard look at herself. The truth was as clear as the image staring back at her. Although she needed to keep it strictly business between them, a part of her longed for more than was wise.

  * * *

  TWO WEEKS PASSED in a whirl of activity and she still hadn’t caught up to Joshua. He was seldom home, and when he was, she was invariably busy. People had been dropping by practically nonstop, bringing all kinds of handcrafted items and hoping to take part in the online shop.

  Hearing a knock and realizing it was ten in the morning—time for the package express guy to come by—she stepped away from the keyboard, where she was writing advertising copy, and went to greet the delivery man.

  She opened the door, but instead of the driver, she found Robyn.

  “Hi, Robyn. I guess my deliveryman’s late this morning. Come in. Did you bring me more of your mom’s pieces?”

  Robyn shook her head. “I need to talk. You have a minute?”

  Myka gave her a wan smile. “No, but I’ll make time anyway. Tea or coffee?”

  “Coffee would be great.”

  They sat down in the kitchen and Myka brought the coffee pot and cups to the table. “So what’s on your mind?”

  “I spoke to Joshua earlier at the post office. He said you got upset when he tried to help, that you were finding it difficult to delegate responsibility.”

  “There’s some truth to that,” she admitted.

  Robyn glanced around the front room, filled with boxes, and shook her head. “Myka, this place looks like a warehouse. If you try to do everything on your own, work will bury you. You have to get a staff.”

  “Staff? Are you kidding me? Where would they work? I barely have room to walk down the hall.”

  “You need to accept Josh’s help setting things up. If he’s a little heavy handed, it’s probably because he has a lot at stake, too. Josh lost his business, and by helping us run ours, he’s getting a chance to make a place for himself here in town.”

  “I don’t think you’ve got Josh figured out. He’s helping because he wants to stay busy until he decides what’s next. The future of Independence directly affects him, too, because he’ll eventually sell his father’s house and he wants a fair price for it.”

  “Maybe so, but the bottom line’s still the same. We need his help, and you need to delegate some of the work. I’ll handle the marketing, write copy and take care of the updates on the website. Ask Sophie and the others to pitch in, too. They can package orders and everyone will need to get busy promoting our site online.”

  Myka shook her head. “We can’t take on any more business, not yet anyway. There’s a problem I hadn’t foreseen—raw materials. I’ve been supplying people in town with the yarn they need to make our products but I’m almost out of wool. I’ll have to call around and see if anyone who raises sheep has some wool on hand we can process.”

  “That may take contacting people outside Independence. No one here has a large herd. Let me look into it.”

  “Winter’s coming up, and shearing time is still months away,” Myka reminded her.

  “So it’s bound to be a challenge,” Robyn said. “Don’t worry. I’m up to it. If there’s raw wool out there somewhere, I’ll find it.�
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  Myka was walking Robyn to the door when a loud knock sounded. Robyn reached it first and opened it.

  Joshua stood there with a box of Grandma Medeiros’s handmade doughnuts.

  Robyn sniffed the air and smiled. “I know what’s in the box, and I’m not leaving unless you share.”

  Laughing, he lifted the lid and offered her a doughnut.

  As she took one, the scent reached Bear. He pushed past Myka and nudged Joshua.

  “Forget it, guy,” Josh said.

  “If this is your idea of a peace offering, remind me to pick a fight with you as often as possible,” Robyn said. “I’ll get back to you, Myka, and don’t worry. I’ll hurry.” Robyn headed toward her car.

  “What’s up? Is something wrong?” he asked Myka.

  She nodded, glad to see him, and waved him inside. “This morning I realized that we’re running low on wool. I’ve been selling my yarn at reduced prices to Liza and Millie and some of the other women. They make the sweaters, afghans, bedspreads and crafts we’re selling online. I was also selling some of my hand dyed skeins under a special label, but with increased demand, my wool’s almost gone.”

  “So you’ve got a crisis?”

  She nodded. “I didn’t realize how fast I was going through my reserves. Before, it wouldn’t have mattered as much. We would have waited until next shearing season and, in the interim, used commercial yarn. Now it’s different. We sell high-end merchandise for top prices, and we promise customers completely handcrafted products. We’ll need to buy first-rate wool and process it ourselves.”

  “So, how many people in town raise sheep?”

  “Only two, but their flocks aren’t much bigger than mine. I have a feeling that what they could offer us won’t be nearly enough.”

  “I have relatives on the Rez who raise sheep. Let me put out the word,” he said.