1

      DRIVING THE RENTED moving van was a heck of a lot harder than Honor Brown had counted on. Not since high school had she driven a stick shift. More than ten years later, she’d clearly lost the gift. Wincing as she ground the gears, she ignored her friend Lexie, who rode shotgun and was having a grand time at her expense.

      After they bounced over yet another pothole, Lexie groaned. “I feel like we’re killing this truck.”

      Maybe because they were.

      While staring out the window to check out the new neighborhood, Lexie propped her naked feet on the dash and balanced a frosty can of cola on her midriff. “There are a lot of trees.”

      “I know. And they’re so big.”

      “Throwing shade everywhere.” She turned toward Honor. “You realize most of these houses look like a flashback to the sixties.”

      “It’s the landscaping.” And the cracked sidewalks and, yes, all those mature trees. “I’ll have to redo my entire yard.” Wrinkling her nose, she added, “It’s mostly overgrown and pretty...messy.” A grave understatement. The little patch of lawn in front of the house she’d bought held only weeds and dead bushes and debris. But who cared? She could buy shrubs someday, put in some flowers, maybe a bird fountain, too.

      The backyard was bigger, she reminded herself. Though just as messy, it supposedly led to a wonderful creek. There were beautiful trees that were strong and healthy and only needed to be trimmed.

      The most important thing was that she’d be on her own, and closer to her grandfather’s facility. Since she visited him once a day, sometimes more often, the convenience would be a godsend.

      “How is your grandfather?”

      Bless Lexie for always reading her so easily. Honor showed her gratitude with a quick smile, but the smile was sad at best. “Every time I see him, he’s a little worse. I just need to make sure he stays as comfortable as possible.”

      Lexie put a hand on her shoulder to show her commiseration. “I don’t suppose the angry mob is helping much?”

      Angry mob was one of Lexie’s many derogatory terms for Honor’s relatives. Given the general attitude of her two aunts, her cousin and sometimes her great-aunt, she wasn’t far off the mark. “They’re all busy, and upset with things, and—”

      “You’re a good person, Honor. You know that, right?”

      And that was her code for bullshit. Honor sighed. “I try, but I swear, sometimes my patience isn’t what it should be.”

      “Your patience is exceptional. They’re just evil.”

      “Old,” Honor corrected.

      “Hon-or,” Lexie drawled in that chiding way she had that drew out the syllables of her name. “Stop defending them.”

      Was that what she’d been doing? Maybe. Mostly just to keep the peace, though. This was a momentous day and she wanted it to stay happy and upbeat, not get dragged down with worries and animosity.

      They turned the corner on the quaint, older street and Honor could finally see the beautiful, wonderful, life-altering home she’d purchased thanks to the Ashwood, Ohio, Chamber of Commerce’s new mission—to rehab the town of Clearbrook through initiatives around marketing, business attraction and retention efforts.

      Supposedly they’d run off the crime element, cleaned up the streets and, luckily for her, offered special financing on run-down houses with the agreement that the owners would improve the property in a timely manner. She could hardly wait to get started.

      Funds would now be limited for a while, but a lot of what needed to be done required time and energy more than cash. Somehow, in the middle of the craziness called her life, she’d manage to find some of both.

      “Dear God,” Lexie muttered, losing her amusement. Her feet dropped to the floor and she leaned forward as far as the seat belt would let her. “Please tell me that’s not it.”

      “It is,” Honor confirmed with pride. Sure, it was a little