Hometown Sweetheart. Lenora Worth
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hot under the collar. Or maybe it was the scalding takedown he’d just been given by Miss Shanna that had him hot under the collar. Either way, he refused to stand here and be insulted after he’d taken the time to help her.
Simon glanced over at the kids, noting that some of them were actually enjoying cooking their hotdogs on sticks. Then memories of another picnic not far from here swirled like embers in front of his eyes. He could hear Marcy’s sweet laughter, see her sparkling eyes, feel her in his arms as he tried to keep her warm. An acute anger and longing filled his heart, causing him to step back from the scene in front of him.
“I won’t bother you again if you promise to leave me alone,” he said.
And without a word, he hurried back to the studio where Shiloh whimpered at the door. Simon let the big dog out. The dog could go entertain the neighbors. He wanted to be alone. Completely alone. So he shut the door and cranked up the country music he liked to listen to while he worked.
And with a determined effort, he put Shanna White and her seven charges out of his mind. Or at least as far away from his thoughts as he could, considering that for the rest of the long afternoon, he heard her occasional bursts of tingling laughter, even over the twang of the somebody-done-somebody-wrong love songs.
“That young man certainly had a burr in his bonnet,” Janie said after Simon was out of earshot. “Or more like, a burr in his cowboy boot.”
“He doesn’t like being around other people,” Shanna said. “It distracts him from his work.” And his pain. Shanna knew why he was hiding, and it caused her to be more sympathetic.
“Maybe he needs distracting,” Janie said. Then she turned toward the cabin and walked away, smiling.
Shanna watched as her new neighbor hurried inside his big barnlike studio, his faithful dog waiting for him. But he let the dog out then shut the door in the dog’s face, too.
No surprise there, she thought with an amused smile. She’d been warned that her neighbor was reclusive and standoffish. Her friend Cari Duncan—now Cari Duncan Adams—had also warned her about Simon’s dark good looks and even darker not-so-friendly scowls. Cari was newly married to Simon’s younger brother Rick. Rick, along with his mother Gayle, ran Adams’ General Store and Apparel in the quaint village of Knotwood Mountain about ten miles to the south.
But his older brother Simon stayed holed up out here on the family compound near the Chattahoochee River, creating handmade one-of-a-kind boots for everyone from celebrities and politicians to construction workers and cowboys. His work was famous but apparently so was his notorious seclusion. He didn’t venture out to get clients. They came begging to him. Everyone wanted a pair of Simon Adams boots. But not everyone could afford them. Including Shanna. And apparently, everyone cowered and tiptoed around his dark moods. Not including Shanna. She had seven unruly wards to worry about. She didn’t have time to bow down to His Highness or his demands.
The man made beautiful boots, no doubt about that.
Too bad his attitude toward the entire human race wasn’t so beautiful. Cari had explained why Simon was this way. And Shanna sure wasn’t going to ask him to get over it. He’d been through the worst.
Telling herself to cut him some slack and pray for him instead of belittling him, Shanna thought about what Cari had told her when she and Rick had insisted Shanna could use this cabin, rent-free, for a week over the spring break.
“I have to explain about Simon,” Cari said one night after a church meeting. “He lost his wife Marcy to cancer a few years ago and well, since then he’s become a bit of a recluse. He’s an artist, so he’s naturally temperamental and hard to live with. But Rick told me when we first started dating that his brother hasn’t gotten over his wife’s death. He’s bitter, Shanna. So he might be nasty to you if you approach him. He won’t like having neighbors for a week but even the mighty Simon Adams can’t dictate who his brother rents that cabin to.”
Shanna thought about Cari’s words now as she glanced over toward Simon’s workshop. No, Simon couldn’t keep people away from his brother’s property but he could make trouble for her. Especially if this rat pack of wayward teens and younger children bothered him.
She’d talk to her seven charges and explain the rules:
Leave the big man next door alone.
Stay off his property.
Don’t get too loud.
Don’t mess with the dog.
And no matter what, don’t go inside that studio.
Just pretend he’s not there.
After seeing the man firsthand, she’d have to remind herself of all those rules, too.
A loud crash inside the cabin caused Shanna to turn and rush inside. This was not going to be an easy week.
Chapter Two
Shanna was up the next morning with the first rays of sunshine. She loved early morning. It was the best time to talk to God while she had a clear head and some quiet time. Being a high school teacher meant she didn’t have any spare time during her hectic, structured days. And this week, she wouldn’t have much time to herself at all since she was going to be busy each day with a new task for her seven charges.
But right now, she only wanted to voice her prayers to Christ. So she sat in the big comfy chair by the wall of windows in the open den, the fire she’d started earlier crackling, her coffee cup in her hand and her morning notes on her lap. She jotted a few gratitude statements first—Thank You, Lord, for providing us this cabin. Thank You for Rick and Cari and please continue to bless them in their new marriage. Thank You for these children You’ve brought me to and help me to show them the way to Your love.
Holding her pen in midair, Shanna looked out across the way toward the big looming brown barn with the mural of a pair of cowboy boots on its side. Those giant boots with the famous golden soles were the only sign that Simon Adams actually was a real live human being.
Smiling, Shanna jotted one more thing in her journal. And thank You, Lord, for Simon Adams. He brings people joy with his art and his creations, even if he does have a bad attitude right now. Help him to heal, Lord.
Shanna shut the journal with a clap then closed her eyes for a prayer to get her through the day. She’d call Aunt Claire and give her an update and chat a while before the kids woke up. Then they’d start out with a long hike so she could show the kids that God’s world was beautiful in spite of the struggles in their lives. She’d also planned a picnic out by the river—just sandwiches and chips—no fires involved. She planned to sing praise songs and give a short devotional followed by some heart-to-heart discussion.
She wanted these kids to have a happy camping experience. Most of them had problems with either school or their life at home and parents who were too busy and frazzled to take them camping. Amazing to think that some parents were either too busy or self-absorbed and bitter to give their children the simple pleasures in life. Or worse, some took out their frustrations on their children. Katie’s stepfather had done that, using the child as a punching bag. Katie was safe now, living with her grandparents. And even though she was young, she’d so wanted to come on this trip.
Shanna remembered her own upbringing. She knew firsthand how a child could suffer because of neglect and abuse, didn’t she? But she’d overcome all that. She wanted to show these children they could do the same. Especially Katie.
No wonder these kids were confused and troubled. But Shanna couldn’t judge them or their parents. She’d seen and heard all kinds of excuses in her five years of teaching in Savannah. Why would things be any different here in Knotwood Mountain?
When she heard a door slamming, she opened her eyes to see Simon Adams emerging from his cabin, a cup of coffee in his hand and that adorable dog trotting at his side. Using this opportunity to spy on him, Shanna stood up to take her own sweet time looking at Simon. He wore jeans, battered boots and a lightweight denim jacket he’d probably