“A History of Clear Creek by Tom Turner,”she read. “Land sakes, how long has this been in circulation? And does Mr. Turner still live here?”
“I believe so. I think he rents a house from the Cookes and lives on the ranch.”
Grandma paled. “Did you hear that, Irene?” she called across the storefront.
“Yes, I heard,” Irene called back. She hurried over to rejoin them. “I suppose this means we’ll have to pay old Tom a visit.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” Grandma mused. None of them had any idea who else might be here. They weren’t the only ones who’d experienced the same thing that had prolonged their lives. She shot Irene a worried look, then gave her attention back to TJ. “How are things at your folks’ place? How’s the ranch doing?”
“You know my folks?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “Didn’t you tell Lila that you all just came back to town?”
“Yes, we’ve been traveling,” Irene said, nudging Grandma with her elbow.
“Right, traveling. And we’ve come to help out Tilly and Jack, and also the folks that own the inn. We refurbished it, you know.”
“Oh yes,” Mr. Jensen said, wagging a finger at them. “Now I remember you. That was a nice thing you did, fixing that old place up and then selling it to that nice young couple. They’re a lovely pair.”
“Talia and Grayson,” Grandma said with a smile. “Yes, they are. Anyway, we might settle here.”
Irene gasped, then coughed. “Yeah, maybe, if we can find the right place. But we travel a lot.”
“That’s no problem around here,” Mr. Jensen said. “You can always find someone to house-sit. Folks still try to take care of each other. That’s one of the reasons my wife and I have never left this place.”
“Clear Creek has changed over the years, but at least it’s still a nice town,” Grandma said. “You wouldn’t happen to know of any places for sale, would you?”
“Sure,” Mr. Jensen said. “There’s a house over on West C Street just went up for sale, a grand old Victorian. If you liked the inn, you’d like this place.”
“West C Street?” Irene looked at Grandma. “I wonder.” She turned back to Mr. Jensen. “Is it that big pink Victorian?”
“Yes, it is. That place has been pink for decades. No one dares paint it any other color. It’s too iconic in this town.”
Grandma looked at Irene and smiled. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Yes, but it’s going to take some finagling… and maybe no small amount of begging.”
TJ picked up a pair of socks and examined them. “You’ll have to talk your husbands into it?” He grinned. “If you buy a place, are all of you going to live together?”
“If there’s enough room, we will,” Irene said. “We’ve done it before, and we get along great. That’s the important thing.”
TJ nodded, and Grandma smiled. “How long are you in town, son?”
“For a few weeks, then I need to head back to England.”
“Do you like it over there?” Mr. Jensen asked.
“I do, though it’s very different from here.”
“Do you think you’ll stay?” Mr. Jensen handed him another pair of socks. “Here, you might like these. They’ve got dolphins on them.”
TJ took the socks and smiled. “There are some job opportunities I’m seeking, and some great research centers.”
“Too bad you aren’t going to stay. I’m sure it would make your mother happy,” Grandma said. “But a young man has to do what he has to do, right, Irene?”
Irene nodded, then continued to look around the storefront, her eyes landing on the curtain separating the front and back of the building. “Anyone renting the apartment upstairs?”
“Yes,” Mr. Jensen said. “A young couple. They’ve been there about six months. He works at Stone’s Emporium, and she works at the bank.”
Irene exchanged a look with Grandma, and Grandma knew Irene was disappointed. She was going to ask if she could see the apartment. Poor thing. What Irene needed was something to do. And Grandma had just the thing.
