One Day in Apple Grove Read online

  Copyright © 2013 by C.H. Admirand

  Cover and internal design © 2013 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover illustration by Tom Hallman

  Cover photo © Luciano Bibulich/Dreamstime.com

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  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

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  Contents

  Front Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Buttermilk Pie

  Apple Grove, Ohio

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Blueberry Pandowdy

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Back Cover

  This book is dedicated to my personal handyman: my darling husband, Dave. In the thirty years since we’ve lived in our home, we’ve done most of the work ourselves, with the help of our families before we had kids…and our kids once they were big enough.

  I already knew how to paint, put up wallpaper, and garden—and knew the difference between a Phillips-head screwdriver and a flat-head screwdriver—but since I’ve been married to Dave, I’ve learned how to mix concrete, put up sheetrock, and even install a wood laminate floor in our kitchen this past fall. But more importantly, I learned NOT to take photos in the middle of a project that was not going according to plan. I still have this image in my head of the frame for the shower plumbing flying out of the bathroom and hurtling down the cellar stairs. Yep, now I take pics before the project…when he goes outside for more materials…and when it’s done. :)

  When we were dating, he needed me to remove the alternator from his Fiat 124 Spider—smaller hands were needed for that tight fit—then there was the time he taught me how to change the oil filter in my first car, but that’s another story for another day…

  And to the real Jameson, a.k.a. Jamie, who healed our hearts after losing our faithful shepherd/rottweiler Ginger, with his exuberance, lavish puppy kisses, and his little black lips and underbite.

  A Taste of Home Cooking from Apple Grove

  Buttermilk Pie

  Makes two pies

  This recipe has become a favorite of my guys, discriminating pie experts. Pie—it’s what’s for breakfast! ~C.H.

  1 tablespoon butter

  4 tablespoons Heckers unbleached flour

  3 egg yolks, beaten

  1 cup sugar

  2 cups buttermilk

  1 teaspoon concentrated lemon juice

  Your favorite piecrust—or mine, if you email me!

  Blend the butter and flour and add egg yolks and sugar, stirring until smooth. Slowly add the buttermilk and lemon extract until thoroughly mixed.

  Line two eight- or nine-inch pie plates with piecrust and pour in filling, dividing equally. Bake in a 425 degree oven for ten minutes. Lower temperature to 350 degrees for twenty to twenty-five minutes, or until set.*

  *Remove and cover with meringue (recipe on next page), baking for an additional ten to twelve minutes, or until the meringue is lightly browned.

  **Alternative topping: freshly whipped cream and raspberries—easier and just as delicious!

  Meringue Topping for Two Pies

  3 egg whites

  3 tablespoons white sugar

  1/4 to 1 teaspoon concentrated lemon juice

  Beat the egg whites until soft peaks form; slowly add the sugar and lemon juice and continue beating until stiff. Spread over the tops of both pies, forming tiny peaks if you’re feeling creative; if you’re pressed for time, like me, just spread it out flat. Bake in a 350 degree oven for ten to twelve minutes.

  © 2001 C.H. Admirand

  Apple Grove, Ohio: Population 597

  Apple Grove has always boasted that it’s a small town with big-town amenities. Some of the local hot spots are:

  Honey’s Hair Salon—Owned by Honey B. Harrington, who has weekly specials from cuts to coloring and likes to advertise the weekly special by changing her hair color every week. (She’s been trying to snag Sheriff Wallace’s attention for the last fifteen years, but he’s firmly holding on to his bachelorhood.)

  The Apple Grove Diner—Owned by Peggy and Katie McCormack, featuring Peggy’s Pastries.

  Bob’s Gas and Gears—Owned by Robert Stuart, former stock car driver who doubles as the mechanic.

  Murphy’s Market—Owned by the lovely widow Mary Murphy (who has her eye on Joseph Mulcahy—and he has his on her), where you can buy anything from soup to nuts—the metal kind—but it’s her free-range chickens that lay the best eggs in Licking County and have people driving for miles to buy them.

  Trudi’s Garden Center—Owned by eighty-year-old Trudi Philo who likes to wear khaki jodhpurs and Wellingtons everywhere; she specializes in perennials and heirloom vegetables and flowers, and has been planting and caring for the flowers in the town square since she was in grade school, taking the job over from her grandmother Phoebe Philo, when she passed the business on to her fifty years ago.

  The Apple Grove Public Library—Run by Beatrice Wallace, the sheriff’s sister—open three days a week!

  The Knitting Room—A thriving Internet business run by Apple Grove resident Melanie Culpepper, who had to close up her shop when she became pregnant with twins.

  Slater’s Mill—Built circa 1850, this converted mill and historic site is a favorite among locals both young and old. Famous for its charcoal-broiled burgers and crispy fries served in the first-floor family restaurant, it’s also been a favorite place for the younger set to congregate at the mile-long bar on the second floor.

  Chapter 1

  Dr. Jack Gannon closed the door to his office, looked down Main Street, and smiled. Spring in his hometown meant green and growing—nothing like the Middle East desert peppered with hiding places where insurgents had lain in wait. He shoved those thoughts, and his years as a navy corpsman, back into the tiny box he’d visualized so many times while lying helpless in that hospital bed.

  After all the stories he’d heard from this father, Jack had been the first one in the navy recruiter’s line all those years ago. But none of the places he’d traveled as a hospital corpsman held a candle to the town he called home—Apple Grove.

  A soft breeze caressed his face, a loving touch and gentle reminder that he had so much to be grateful for. The marine he’d been struggling to save when they’d been hit filled his mind. Struggling to bury the memory, and the guilt, deep, he foc
used on one of the lessons he’d learned early in life: There is a time and purpose for everything. He remembered floundering when he’d woken up strapped to a gurney as he was rushed into surgery. A year and a half later, he’d been able to stand, to walk and was alive—applying his experience in the navy toward college credits and then med school—he had a life…choices…unlike the marine he’d tried to save but couldn’t.

  Growing up in a town where farming was a way of life for most, he’d come to appreciate that spring was the season for growth. Sinking his shriveled roots back into the warm, rich, life-giving soil of his hometown just might satisfy his need for personal growth. No one in town knew the depth of his pain or the extent of his injuries. To them, he was simply old Doc Gannon’s son coming home to pick up where his father left off, taking care of the people in this tight-knit community. If he could continue to keep a lid on the roiling pot of guilt, pain, and uncertainty, no one would ever have to know the truth—that he should have been the one to die.

  The wind shifted, clearing his head of the thoughts haunting him. He caught the fleeting, teasing scent of fresh-baked pies wafting toward him from the open door of the Apple Grove Diner. Glad to redirect his thoughts, he wondered if the diner was still gossip central. It had been for as far back as he could remember—the latest news, good and bad, served up with a man-sized slice of pie, a hot cup of coffee, and a smile. “God, I really missed this place.”

  As a teenager, he couldn’t wait to leave; now he took the time to admire Miss Trudi’s flowers, a riot of color circling the gazebo in the town square, the focal point of countless Founder’s Day Picnic speeches. One of Apple Grove’s more outspoken octogenarians, Miss Trudi was a marvel. How she managed to do so much at her age amazed him. He’d have to stop by and check up on her this afternoon…without letting her know what he was up to, or else she’d never let him hear the end of it. A more capable woman over the age of eighty simply didn’t exist.

  The breeze rustled the broad green leaves of the sugar maples lining Main Street. The trees graced the sidewalk and shaded his steps from the front door of his office clear down to the sheriff’s at the other end of the street. He’d make a point to see Mitch, Sheriff Wallace, today as well. His day was rapidly filling up with people he needed to see, not all of them for medical reasons. He had to start that list—which was the main thing he intended to discuss with Mitch—of some of the older people in town and schedule routine check-ins—even if they were likely to be crabby about it. But in Apple Grove, people always wanted to help.

  The tantalizing scent of baked goods was stronger as he drew closer to the diner. Stepping through the open door to the diner, he paused at the threshold, drawing in another deep breath. Freshly brewed coffee and the scent of just-baked sweetness beckoned to him. Jack smiled, knowing it would be a McCormack who would greet him.

  “How was your flight back?” Peggy McCormack asked. “You flew right through that rainstorm.”

  “Uneventful,” he said, smiling at the older of the two sisters. “Just the way I like it.”

  “How many broken hearts did you leave behind, Doc?” Peggy’s sister Kate asked. When he just shook his head, she added, “There are plenty of women in town who’d be more than happy to take the edge off…if you know what I mean.”

  “Don’t scare him off when he’s only just arrived,” Peggy told her. “We haven’t gotten any news from him yet.” Making a shooing motion toward the coffeepot, she smiled at Jack and told her sister, “Grab some coffee for Doc.”

  Jack hesitated, wondering if he should leave now, before they picked his brain clean, or if he should stick around for a slice of heaven on a plate.

  “What?” Kate frowned, reaching for the coffeepot and turning back around. “How many women have you heard make that offer while waiting for our hometown hero to return?”

  Jack raised his eyes to the ceiling and fought his embarrassment. He should come back later, when it was busy and he could be ignored.

  Peggy’s question interrupted that thought. “How ’bout a piece of our grandma’s buttermilk pie to go with your coffee?”

  Kate motioned for him to sit down while Peggy sliced a piece of pie for him. A stronger man than him could forgo the flaky confection calling his name. Where pie was concerned, especially from the Apple Grove Diner, he had no choice. He gave in, had to have that pie.

  “Thanks.” Taking a seat at the counter, he shifted on the vinyl stool until he was comfortable—his leg ached—they’d be getting rain by nightfall. Doing his best to ignore the pain, he looked up when a fragrant cup of coffee and a megaslice of pie appeared like magic.

  “Did you know one of the hardest parts of leaving town was missing Grandma McCormack’s pies? You can’t get service or baked goods like this where I’ve been.” He took a bite and sighed in pleasure.

  “It’s been a while in between your visits home,” Kate said while he ate. “Peggy and I were trying to remember how long but can’t.”

  With his mouth filled with the decadent combination of lemony-flavored custard and delectable meringue topping, he couldn’t answer right away, so he chewed, swallowed, and said, “A while.”

  Forking up another bite, he gave in and let himself enjoy the flavors dancing on his tongue. It had been quiet for a few minutes before he realized the sisters were watching him closely. He lifted a forkful of pie and said, “Delicious.”

  “Thanks,” Peggy said. “So, how many years were you in the navy?”

  Blowing across the surface to cool his coffee, he paused and glanced up. “Almost ten.”

  “And then you went to school,” Peggy added.

  He took a sip of his coffee and said, “I had earned plenty of college credits, so finishing up and going to med school didn’t take as long as I’d thought it would.”

  “Do you miss it?” Kate asked.

  “The navy or med school?” he asked.

  “The navy,” Kate said.

  “Why couldn’t you spend the last two years doing rehab here?” Peggy wanted to know. “Couldn’t your dad have taken care of you?”

  Jack nearly snorted up that last mouthful of fragrant brew. Had he really thought they wouldn’t touch on the parts of his military career he hadn’t wanted to discuss? This was one aspect he hadn’t missed—being grilled so that the midmorning crowd coming into the diner would have fresh fodder to pass along.

  He didn’t want to talk about it, but maybe if he told them something no one had heard before, the sisters would be satisfied for the next little bit.

  Jack met Peggy’s gaze and said, “They didn’t think I’d survive the plane ride home.” While the reality of his comment hit home, he looked at Kate and hoped to distract her by saying, “My mom and dad wanted me to say hello for them and to ask how your parents and grandmother are doing.”

  Peggy was the first to recover from the gossip-worthy bomb he’d dropped. She grasped his hand and squeezed it tight before letting it go. Her nod told him that she’d let the subject drop. “Are your parents really going to buy that house in Florida?” Peggy asked. “Wouldn’t it be better to keep renting? They might change their mind during another wicked hurricane season.”

  “Mornin’, Miss Kate. Mornin’, Miss Peggy.” Deputy Jones walked into the diner and smiled at the sisters before turning to look at Jack. “Morning, Doc. Heard you’re meeting with the sheriff later today. It’s a good thing you’re doing for Apple Grove.”

  Jack shrugged. “When Mitch was filling me in on the latest emergencies at the office, we got to talking about how to avoid some of them. We think it’ll work.”

  Deputy Jones was fighting not to smile when he added, “We may catch some grief from the people on that list.”

  Jack agreed. “Most of them won’t mind, but there are a few independent curmudgeons who will.”

  “What have you two cooked up?” Kate asked.

 
; “You have been busy,” Peggy said, at the same time, handing a paper bag and two coffees to go to the sheriff’s right-hand man.

  “Duty calls. Thank you, ladies,” Deputy Jones said with a wave and was gone.

  Kate sighed as she watched him leave, while Peggy waited for Jack to answer.

  Jack finished his pie and the rest of his coffee. “My dad planted the idea. Mitch called me right after I hung up with my dad, and between the two of us, we figured out a way to implement it.”

  He reached into his pocket, but before he could take his wallet—or his hand—out of his pocket, Peggy patted his arm and said, “It’s on the house.”

  “You won’t make any money if you keep giving away what people will pay good money for,” he warned her.

  Peggy and Kate smiled, and he knew there was one more reason why people in town flocked to the diner—the friendly smiles and caring that lay beneath the sisters’ need to spread the news.

  “Now you sound just like him,” Peggy said.

  He tilted his head to one side and asked, “Who?”

  They laughed, drawing the attention of a few early morning regulars. “Old Doc Gannon,” Kate told him.

  He smiled. “So what does that make me?”

  Kate grinned. “Young Doc Gannon.”

  “Hey, wait!” Peggy said, as Jack got up. “Aren’t you going to tell us who is on that list?”

  He shrugged. “I thought I gave you enough to talk about this morning.”

  “Hot roast turkey sandwich platters are the lunch special today,” Peggy said.

  He paused in the doorway. “With cranberry sauce? Corn bread stuffing?”

  Peggy nodded.

  He’d missed home cooking most of all. “I’ll be back after my noon appointment. Save me some.”

  “Doc?” Kate called out.

  He paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

  “Apple Grove has really missed having your dad taking care of what ails us.”

  His dad had told him of his search and finally finding a replacement. Had Doc known the physician wouldn’t stay, leaving the job waiting for Jack when he was ready for it? Knowing his father, he probably had.