Anyways, every year folks teamed up and headed to Dooley’s to pick apples. The team that picked the most got to ride around in the back of his old farm truck downtown. No, it wasn’t much of a prize, but the whole thing was a lot of fun. Dooley and Dottie always served lunch. There was usually a band playing and kids running around. It was like a potluck after church services except with dancing.
Oh, well. Y’all might dance at your churches, but I grew up Baptist. There was no way in Hades they would dance. I don’t even think we were allowed to tap our toes to music.
“I can’t wait to pick some apples,” I said to Dooley, “but I’m guessing that’s not why you called.”
“Clem, we have a problem.”
I groaned. “Dooley—”
“Now, it’s not my problem, Clem. My daughter is looking to renovate a barn, same as I did. She’s got the barn. It’s all bought, but now she needs someone to do the renovating.”
“And I assume that you told her how much you loved working with me and are recommending me for the job.”
“You got it. She wants to meet you in a few days. Says she’s got Thursday open. How does that sound?”
“Sounds great.” I slipped out from under Lady and found a pen and paper. “Tell me where to be, and I’ll meet her there.”
Chapter 4
Thursday came quickly. In the past few days Malene had driven her Miata all over town. Everywhere she went, she just about ripped up the road behind her because she drove so fast.
Meanwhile, dressed in jeans, a brown sweater and boots, I hopped into my antique pickup truck and headed out of town to meet Dooley’s daughter, Hadley Hutto.
As soon as I turned onto County Road 211, my tires hit ruts that pockmarked the path. I avoided as many of them as I could, but it was pretty much impossible to miss them all.
After bouncing around for a good ten minutes, I spied the old barn in a clearing. I pulled onto the dirt driveway and saw Hadley waiting for me.
She was tall and resembled Dooley—had the same grim expression that looked like she was constantly disappointed by those around her. Well, I’d dealt with Dooley and survived. I was pretty sure that I could handle her, too.
Surprisingly she welcomed me with open arms—and a hug. “You must be Clem,” she cooed. “I’m Hadley.”
Hadley Hutto was slim with a great sense of fall fashion. She was working a scarf, knee-length boots and a long-sleeved sweater like she had been dipped in Southern style.
The hug took me by surprise, and I let her embrace me for a moment before slinking out of her hold. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” She smiled and it was like watching the heavens part, so bright was it. “I hope Daddy wasn’t too rough on you when he called.”
I shot her a pointed look. “Your daddy? Rough? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She threw her head back and laughed delicately. “You’re too nice. You and I both know that Daddy is a son-of-a-gun. Thank you for coming out. I was so moved by what you’d done for Mama and Daddy that I had to have my own barn renovation.”
I gestured to the graying wood-slatted structure. “Well come on. Show me around.”
Hadley and I talked for a good thirty minutes. We went around the barn, which was much more formal on the inside that it looked on the outside. This wasn’t a simple open space on the bottom level with a hay loft on top. Her barn featured stables on one side with an open space on the other. There was a very small loft above, but not nearly as big as what Dooley and Dottie’s barn had.
“I have to say, I’m loving this,” I said. “We can renovate the stables into individual bedrooms. Put the kitchen on the opposite wall and have the master bedroom upstairs. Or”—I flared out my arms to encompass the wall—“we can open up the walls between the stables and make this a place for your dining room. Can you picture a long table and lanterns hanging down? Maybe strew some lights across the top?”
Hadley beamed. “I love it. I absolutely love the idea of turning the space into an entertainment/dining room. I think that would be spectacular. I’ve always wanted a big space to entertain.”
“You’d have it right here.”
“Awesome.” She took a moment to study the surroundings. “Can you work up a quote for me so that I know what sort of expense we’re talking about?”
“Is my name Clementine?” I joked. “Absolutely. I’ll have it to you in a few days.”
We walked toward my car as a white minivan sputtered down the road. Gravel spewed behind its tires as the vehicle roared down the road faster than Malene in her Miata—which was saying a lot.
The van stopped on the road just past us before reversing and swinging into the driveway.
