Hearts Reclaimed: Ardor Creek, #1

A Note from the Author

Hello, lovely readers !  I’m so excited to bring you this new series.  For those of you who’ve read and supported the Manhattan Holiday Loves series, thank you from the bottom of my heart.  That friend family is awesome and I love hearing how they made you smile and maybe shed a tear or two at points!

For this new series, I decided to do something a bit different.  I’ve wanted to write a love story about a widower ever since I fell in love with Jude Law’s character in The Holiday.  Of course, it’s a difficult subject with lots of complexities that must be handled with care.  I did my best to tackle the heavy themes with thoughtfulness and diligence, and really enjoyed writing Scott and Ashlyn’s story.  Here’s hoping you fall in love with them like I did.

I set out to make this new series fun and lighthearted but it turned out to be a bit more emotional than I thought.  Since the pandemic ended up being an emotional whirlwind for us all, I figured I’d embrace it.  I’m pretty sure Carrie and Peter’s book is going to be a tear-jerker too and I can’t wait to bring it to you.  For now, happy reading as you get to know Scott and Ashlyn!

Chapter 1

Ashlyn Rivers drove her sporty compact sedan through the small town square. The sidewalks were lined with businesses one would expect from any American hamlet: drugstore, diner, hair salon, and so on.  Mentally checking them off in her mind, she noted the immaculate signage and clean streets.  Grandma Jean had loved this town and had a fondness for the mayor, who’d passed several local ordinances to ensure the business owners hung signs with the same fonts and colors.  Ardor Creek, Pennsylvania had been Jean’s home for eighty-two years and now it was Ashlyn’s.

Heart filled with trepidation at starting over, Ashlyn took several deep breaths as she passed the tall clock situated at the northernmost point of the main square.  Veering onto the two-lane road, she continued down the street, not another car in sight, although it was three in the afternoon and the sun sat high in the blue sky.

Searching the horizon, she saw the small gravel road that led to her grandma’s house.  Turning onto it, her body vibrated along with the car over the rocky path.  After passing the woods that surrounded the home, she pulled up in front of the house, craning her neck to look at the dilapidated structure.

Well, Ashlyn, you wanted an adventure, she muttered.  Might as well get on with it.  Stepping from the car, she pushed the door shut and tentatively approached the house.  Sticking her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, she marveled at the project she’d undertaken.

Some might say she was running, and that was just fine.  They didn’t understand her circumstances and they’d never met Grandma Jean.  The woman was a firecracker and Ashlyn had loved her more than anyone.  When she’d passed away a month ago, Ashlyn had expected her to leave the house to her parents or her uncle.  Instead, she’d left it to her only granddaughter, shocking the family.  As her eyes wandered over the home, Ashlyn felt a tug deep in her bones.  A reminder of the times she and Jean had shared.  Grandma was convinced a spirit haunted the century-old home and Ashlyn had shared her beliefs.  Now, she was going to renovate so the house could be added to Ardor Creek’s haunted homes tour.  It was a popular fall attraction in the rural town and would give her some much-needed publicity for her mobile restaurant.

Somewhere along the way she’d gotten the idea that she wanted to buy a food truck and create an organic mobile restaurant...in a brand new town...two and a half hours from Manhattan in the middle of Pennsylvania.  Good lord, she was certifiably insane.

Rubbing her forehead, she continued to study the house, understanding it needed a ton of work.  Jean spent her last two years in assisted living and the house had been vacant that entire time.  It would need a complete overhaul and renovation.  Thank goodness she had a crap ton of money saved from the corporate job she’d resigned from two weeks ago.  It wouldn’t last forever but it was a healthy chunk and would help her get on her feet with the new business and the house.

Crossing her fingers inside her jean pocket, she willed that sentiment to be true.  It was okay to make mistakes—that was inevitable—but she couldn’t fall on her ass completely.  Success was her only option.  Lifting her chin with determination, she embraced her future.

All right, Ashlyn, enough staring.  Time to make good on all those promises you made yourself.  Steeled with determination from the self-pep-talk, she grabbed her bag from the car and trailed up the rickety front porch steps, spine straight and head held high.

Chapter 2

Ashlyn was pleased to find the water still worked, although it ran brown for a good five minutes from each faucet before finally turning clear.  She’d helped Jean with the bills and driven from Manhattan to check on the house every few months, so she knew it was habitable.  Still, it was old and full of creaks and groans, which she found incredibly exciting.  Ashlyn loved a good ghost story and was enthralled by the spirit that supposedly lived in Grandma Jean’s home.  Her home now.

First, she needed to secure a contractor.  After hours spent combing the internet, she’d decided upon Scott Grillo of Grillo Design and Construction.  The firm had rave reviews and seemed to be the most prominent in Ardor Creek.  If she was going to blow her money on renovations, might as well blow it on the best firm.  After a sound sleep on the freshly washed sheets she’d thrown upon her grandma’s bed, Ashlyn rose with the sun and headed into town to get a quote.  Her former job as a pharmaceutical sales rep had instilled her with a love of negotiation—and successful negotiation was always best achieved face to face.

After parking her car in one of the empty spots that ran along Main Street’s sidewalk, she located the business and headed inside.

Can I help you?  The receptionist gave her a warm smile under a mop of curly red hair that fell to her shoulders.

Yes, I’d like to meet with Scott Grillo please.

The woman’s green eyes widened.  "Do you have an appointment?’

No, Ashlyn said, maintaining her polite but assertive tone, but I’m new in town and figured I’d take a shot at tracking him down in the office.  I was hoping he wouldn’t be out on a job yet since it’s still pretty early.

The receptionist blinked a few times, processing.  Where are you from?  Her jaw moved as she worked the gum in between her teeth.

New York City, although my Grandma Jean lived here for over eighty years.

Jean Rivers?

Yep.  Did you know her?

Oh, man, she was sweet and salty at the same time.  I loved seeing her at all the parades and town gatherings.  I heard she passed about a month ago.  I’m so sorry, sweetie.

Ashlyn gave a sad smile.  Thank you.

Standing, she extended her hand.  I’m Carrie Longwood, Scott’s assistant.  I just adored Jean.  We all did.

She was one of my favorite people in the world, that’s for sure, she said, shaking her hand.  I’ve moved into her home and am looking to renovate it.  Seems like Mr. Grillo is the best and I don’t want to settle for anything less.

He sure is.  Lowering into the chair, she maneuvered the mouse and perused the computer screen.  He’s not here yet but should be in any minute.  He won’t be doing site visits until later today.  But I have to warn you...

Yes? Ashlyn asked when she trailed off.

Well, Scott’s a little surly.  Glancing to the ceiling, she contemplated before returning her gaze to Ashlyn’s.  Actually, he’s a lot surly.  Doesn’t really deal with new customers face to face.  He usually has me or Peter do that.

Peter Stratford?  I saw his name on your website.

That’s him, Carrie said with a nod.  He grew up here but moved to the city to become a fancy Wall Street broker.  Eventually, he burnt out and moved back home.  Scott snatched him up to utilize those fancy financial skills and good looks at GDC.

Ashlyn glanced at the business cards atop the counter, realizing that GDC stood for Grillo Design and Construction.  I understand but I also have a background in sales and always found it’s best to negotiate with the decision-maker.  So, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to wait until Mr. Grillo comes in and speak to him directly.

White teeth flashed as Carrie smacked her gum.  Oh, yeah.  He won’t know what to do with you.  You just sit right down over there and we’ll catch him when he walks in, Ms. Rivers.  It is Rivers, right?

Yes, Grandma Jean was my Dad’s mom, but you can call me Ashlyn.

Well, pleasure to meet you, Ashlyn.  I like your New York City swagger.  We don’t get many city people out here.

I’m pretty blunt but also want to make a good impression.  Tell me if I’m blowing it, okay, Carrie?

Ten-four, she said with a salute.

Shooting her a grin, Ashlyn sat down in one of the plastic chairs, pulling out her phone to scroll through Instagram while she waited.  Tamping down the urge to search Robert’s profile, she absently kicked her crossed leg as she caught up on the posts.  The bell above the door rang and a man entered carrying a briefcase but otherwise dressed semi-casually in jeans and a button-down shirt.  His lips twitched—not quite a grin—at Carrie before his gaze fell to her.  Brown irises roved over Ashlyn beneath his brown-rimmed glasses.  Glancing back at Carrie, he muttered, Why is there a strange woman sitting in our office?

Standing, Ashlyn approached, extending a hand.  Ashlyn Rivers, Mr. Grillo.  A pleasure to meet you.  I’m here to hire you to renovate my grandma’s home.

Chestnut eyebrows drew together as he studied her, staring at her outstretched hand as if she were offering him a palmful of poisonous snakes instead of a handshake.  We’re not taking on new clients until August.  Carrie, set up an appointment for her to meet with Peter.  Dismissing her, he turned and began to charge toward the back.

Um, excuse me, she said, grabbing his arm.  But I’m only interested in meeting with you.

He froze, slowly rotating to glare at her fingers encircling his forearm.  Lifting his hand, he extricated her grasp, finger by finger, until she released him.

Sorry, but this project is going to be expensive and I won’t settle for anything less than the best.  I’m pretty stubborn so it’s probably best if you just sit down and meet with me for a few minutes.

Silence blanketed the room, the only movements a tick of a muscle in his firm jaw and the rhythm of the second hand on the large clock that hung on the wall.  Finally, he spoke, the words low and annoyed.  Listen, lady, I don’t care who you are, how stubborn you are, or what the hell you think you’re entitled to.  I run my business in a systematic manner and Peter Stratford conducts our new client meetings.  You can meet with him or you can consult some other contractors.  Have a good day.  With a nod, he pivoted and stormed to the back, disappearing into what she assumed was his office.

Sucking in a breath, Ashlyn expelled it through puffed cheeks.  "Well, that didn’t go as planned."

Carrie’s eyes sparkled with excited mischief.  Oh, yeah.  This is good stuff.  Okay, come here.  She crooked a finger and Ashlyn leaned on the counter.  Carrie dragged the arrow around the screen, irises darting over the schedule.  He’ll be at the new construction site from three to six this afternoon.  It’s over on the annex that runs off Cyprus street.  Most of the guys leave at three so you should have a pretty good chance of cornering him.  He likes to go in once the work is done for the day and check on things.  Look up ‘perfectionist’ in a dictionary and you’ll find a picture of Scott.

You’re a saint, Ashlyn said, thrilled the woman was helping her.  I can’t thank you enough.

No prob, Carrie said, leaning back in her chair.  Scott’s been stuck for a while and I have this strange feeling you might just be the one to slick him up again.

Oh, no, Ashlyn said, hands lifted, palms facing Carrie.  I have no interest in anything but the house.  I just got out of a disastrous relationship and I’ve sworn off men for good.

"So have I, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want them to at least try to get into my knickers."

Laughing, Ashlyn shook her head.  Not me.  I’m done...for a while at least.  But I appreciate the info.  How mad will he be when I show up there?

Squinting at the ceiling, Carrie said, Somewhere between a hornet and a rattlesnake.

Ashlyn grinned, wondering why the idea of ruffling the stoic man’s feathers gave her such an excited thrill.  Awesome.  Wish me luck.

Good luck, honey.  Give him hell.  Stop by again sometime and tell me how it went.

Will do.  Grabbing a business card, Ashlyn all but skipped out the door, stretching her arms wide under the morning sun.  Birds chirped back under the late-March sky and a car lazily trailed down the quiet main street.  Phase One, underway.  Nice job, Rivers.  Keep it up.  Ready to face the day, she grabbed a sandwich at the deli before heading home to resume cleaning her new house.

Chapter 3

Ashlyn resembled a tornado in the hours that followed, wanting to ensure the house was spotless.  Of course, parts would be torn up during renovation but she still liked living in a tidy home.  As she assessed the two-story dwelling, she took stock of what needed to be done.  Both bathrooms needed to be completely gutted but the two upstairs bedrooms were fine.  The fireplace in the living room needed work but, otherwise, she could leave that room alone for now.  She wanted to completely redo the den and make it into an office and the kitchen needed to be revamped with a bigger oven, new cabinets and counters, and updated appliances.  The upstairs attic would remain untouched but the front porch needed to be completely redone.  Satisfied with her assessment, she looked at the list she’d written in the notebook wondering how much it was going to cost.

You’ll just have to negotiate, Ashlyn, she murmured, trailing her finger over the black scribbles, trying not to hyperventilate at the amount of money she was going to spend.  There was always reward at the end of risk—she firmly believed this—and was determined to see the renovation through.

Peeking at her phone, she realized it was almost four o’clock.  Well past time for her to track down Mr. Grumpy Contractor and try again to solidify his commitment to work with her.  Trailing to the bathroom, she applied some eyeliner for good measure.  One thing she’d learned during her tenure in sales was that it never hurt to sharpen one’s appearance.  Giving her reflection a satisfied nod, she grabbed her purse and headed toward her car.

After locating the construction site on the map application of her phone, she plopped it in the holder attached to the dashboard and began her journey.  Ten minutes later, she pulled to a stop on the dirt road in front of the half-built home.  Stepping from the car, she slid her phone in her back jeans pocket, thinking it would be good to have handy just in case.