Celebrating the release of the Sweet version of A Wedding in Apple Grove, Sweet Small Town USA Book 1!
This book is dedicated to Sue Grimshaw, whose vision, insightful edits and attention to detail gave new life to the residents of Apple Grove, Ohio ~ Small Town USA. The Mulcahy Family and I thank you.
I like to use family names in my books. My Grandfather's sister (my Great Aunt Margaret married Frank Mulcahy. My Mom used to have great stories about her uncles Frank and Joe Mulcahy. Years ago I connected with one of Great Uncle Frank and Aunt Margaret's granddaughters on Ancestry.com and realized we had the same picture!!! ~ ~ ~
A Wedding in Apple Grove
Small Town USA Book One
Excerpt from Chapter One
Small Town USA Book One
Excerpt from Chapter One
Daniel
Eagan downshifted then accelerated through the curve. Weeping hemlocks and spruce trees grew side
by side with oak and maple trees lining the road leading him to his new
home—and life in Ohio. The sheer size and number of the trees were daunting.
The
shades of green melded into a blur as he picked up speed on the straightaway.
“No sidewalks.” He knew he was getting closer to the town of Apple Grove but
still hadn’t seen more than a handful of homes along Route 70. Up ahead, there
was a break in the trees so Dan slowed down to see if it was a driveway or the
street he’d been looking for: Eden Church Road.
It
was a pond just a few feet from the edge of the road. The weathered split-rail
fence by the road was covered with vines. He couldn’t guess what type of vine
it was—he’d have to wait until spring. He checked his watch, saw that he’d made
good time and could slow down to admire his surroundings. There was a brightly
colored, inflatable, kid-sized canoe on the other side of the pond next to a
beat-up rowboat, with a fence just beyond. Horses grazed on the other side of
the fence. He wondered if the owners competed in equestrian events, like his
friends back home in Sussex County, New Jersey. He’d have to find out later,
but for now he wanted to get to his destination before late afternoon.
He
began to wonder if he missed his turn when all at once he noticed the bright
yellow water tower looming ahead. Almost there. He drove past a cornfield with
a ship’s mast and crow’s nest and pulled over. Chuckling he snapped a picture
with his cell phone to send to his cousin back home.
As he
drew closer to the water tower, he noticed writing on the side of it—painted in
bold green letters it read: Marry me, Edie, Love Bill. He wasn’t sure if it was the John
Deere color scheme or the fact that someone would write a marriage proposal on
the side of a water tower that tipped him off to the fact that he wasn’t back
East anymore—life was definitely different in the Midwest. He only hoped he’d
fit in. He couldn’t go back, he could only go forward.
A few
miles later, he saw the sign for Eden Church Road and slowed down to make the
turn. He smiled at the county name at the top of the street sign—Licking
County—noting it just added to the charm.
The
road ahead wound through gently rolling hills. Ten minutes down the road he
noticed a farmer’s wall—stones piled a few feet high and deep—outlining the
property he could see up ahead. A huge barn, corral, and freshly painted white,
two-story farmhouse, complete with the requisite wraparound porch and rocking chairs,
were off to the left. As he drove past, he saw a crowd of people gathered out
on the lawn. He slowed down and took it all in—the women dressed in myriad
colors standing amid the background of grays and dark blues of the men in
jackets and ties. There were long tables clothed in white and folding chairs
sporting ridiculously large bows. Everyone seemed to be talking, laughing, and
having a wonderful time. A wedding—he wondered if it was Edie and Bill from the
water tower.
As he
drove past, he saw a figure up ahead and laughed. “Must be my perspective.” A
few more feet and he saw he wasn’t hallucinating. A young woman walked along
the top of the fence as if it were a balance beam.
His
heart stuttered as the figure windmilled her arms to keep from falling, barely
regaining her balance. Swerving to the shoulder, he shifted to neutral, pulled
up the hand brake and shoved open the door. He ran toward her as she lost her
balance again. This time she pitched backward off the fence into his waiting
arms.
Warning
bells sounded as she turned her head. The sprinkling of freckles across the
bridge of her nose captivated him. He nearly got lost in the endless blue of
her eyes. Unable to pinpoint her age without asking, he pegged her as
seventeen—eighteen tops.
Reason
returned and he set her gently on her bare feet. His gaze dipped down. She’d painted her toenails a bright
green…another tip off she was in her late teens.
Irritation
tangled with thoughts he had no business thinking. “You could have been
seriously injured,” he ground out. “What were you thinking, pulling a stunt
like that?”
She
tilted back to look up at him. “I didn’t ask you to stop.”
He was here for a new teaching job, and used
to being the boss. Kids, and their parents, respected his authority. Why was
this disconcerting young woman giving him a problem? “You could have broken an
arm or leg.”
She
put her hands on her hips and gave him a measuring look. He wondered if she was
older than he’d first thought. She dressed as if she were, but he remembered
some of the teenagers he’d taught back home dressed as if they were in their
thirties. Looking for another clue to her age, he focused on her face. The
freckles hinted at youth, but he just wasn’t sure. He shook his head
and demanded, “Does your mother know you walk on fences?”
Her
smiled slipped as tears filled her eyes. She looked away, but answered, “She
used to.”
Now
he’d gone and done it. It was obvious she’d lost her mother recently. “Can I
call someone to pick you up?” He was reaching in his pocket for his phone when
she brushed a fiery strand of hair out of her eyes. Damn him for noticing. If
the local law caught wind of the thoughts he was having, they’d slap him in
cuffs and take him downtown.
He
had to put some distance between them. “Here,” he handed her his phone, but she
shook her head, declining his offer.
“I’m
just taking a walk then heading back to my friend’s wedding.” She tilted her
head to one side and asked, “Are you driving through Apple Grove or staying
on?”
“Moving
here. I’m Dan Eagan,” he said holding out his hand, “your new phys ed teacher.”
At
her lilting laughter, he withdrew his hand. He didn’t like to be laughed at.
While he searched for the diplomatic words to put her in her place, she crossed
her arms and said, “Well, Dan Eagan, you would have been a welcome addition to
the teaching staff a dozen years ago when I was there. Mr. Creed didn’t have
the high school girls’ hearts all aflutter, like I am sure they will be when
you walk into class.”
She
smiled and he noticed the fine lines around her eyes and the maturity that
comes with living life. Relief speared through him. “You’re not one of my
students.”
This
time, she held out her hand. “Meg Mulcahy. Welcome to Apple Grove.”
~ ~ ~
I wanted to give my heroines something different...and edge if you will...so I decided on handymen as their father only had daughters to pass the family legacy/business on to. If you have read my Apple Grove series already, this time around is even better! Love this new sweet version. Thanks to Sue!
~ ~ ~
To celebrate, I'm giving away 2 copies of A Wedding in Apple Grove, Book 1 in my Sweet Small Town USA Series. To enter, leave a comment.
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