Chapel bend, p.1
Chapel Bend, page 1
Chapel Bend
A Huckleberry Bay Novel
Kristen Proby
Contents
Title Page
Prologue
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
Epilogue
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Also by Kristen Proby:
About the Author
Chapel Bend
A Huckleberry Bay Novel
By
Kristen Proby
CHAPEL BEND
A Huckleberry Bay Novel
Copyright © 2023 by Kristen Proby
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author, and your support and respect are appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
* * *
Cover Design: By Hang Le
Cover photo: Wander Aguiar
This one is for me. Every word of this book was a delight to write. It made me laugh, and it made me cry. And it reminded me that I was once a young girl who dreamed of doing this job for the joy of it, first and foremost. I love this story, and I’m grateful to you for reading it.
Prologue
June
January 1, 2000
* * *
Dear Diary,
Well, here we are. I don’t really know what to write, but I promised Luna and Sarah that, as of today, I’d start keeping a diary with them. We found a really old leather book up in the lighthouse a couple of weeks ago that turned out to be a journal from some old lady, and I guess it’s kind of cool. Luna only wants to read it when the three of us are together, one journal entry at a time, so it’ll take us about thirty years to read it all, but that’s okay.
I just don’t know what to say. I mean, I’m only thirteen years old, and there’s not much of anything interesting going on. Well, I guess that isn’t true.
Apollo pissed me off. Again.
Here’s hoping my grandma doesn’t find this because she’d twist my ear for swearing. She says a lady shouldn’t use such language, but I hear her swear all the time. And, besides, I’m no lady. We all know it.
Anyway, Apollo is a jerk. He may be Luna’s big brother, and she loves him because he’s related to her, but he can suck it. I think he makes it his life’s ambition to hurt my feelings. He may be named after a god, and he definitely looks like one, but he’s an ass. I can’t believe that I ever had a crush on him. He humiliated me! So, now, he gets my wrath for all eternity.
Lucky him.
Oh, and I get to start woodshop this semester at school. I’m really excited. I like to build things. I know that the boys all sneer at me, but I’m way better at it than they are! They’re just jealous. Losers. I’ll show them. Girls can make stuff out of wood and fix cars and do whatever the hell we want.
Grandma’s calling me down for dinner, so I better go. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.
-Juniper
Chapter One
June
“Now, that is pretty.”
With my hands on my hips, I stand on the sidewalk in front of the chapel that I bought six months ago and smile. The leaves in Huckleberry Bay are starting to turn with the change of summer into fall, flanking my freshly painted white building with orange and red and yellow. It’s gorgeous.
The smell of salt from the ocean, which is less than a mile away, is heavy in the air, and I tilt my head up to the sunshine, close my eyes, and take a long, deep breath.
I love the sunshine, the bright blue sky, and most of all, I love that my schedule is finally lightening up enough that I can spend time renovating my own place rather than working on other construction projects.
Not that I’m complaining about the work. I’m grateful that the small construction company I started a few years ago has taken off as well as it has. But I’m dying to really dig into this chapel and rehab it into my own home.
“Nice paint job.”
My eyes open at the sound of the voice that never fails to make my knees weak, but before I turn to Apollo Winchester, I school my face into just this side of a snarl.
“What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t scowl. He doesn’t look confused. He just grins.
“You invited me, remember?”
“I must have been psychotic at the time because I can guaran-damn-tee you that I didn’t invite you to my home.” Of course, I did. I just don’t know how to interact with Apollo without giving him a hard time.
“You need me.” He pauses, a smirk still hovering over his sexy-as-sin lips before continuing, “To do your electrical.”
Doesn’t that just grate on the nerves? I’m going to have to run new electrical through the whole house, and Apollo is the best electrician in the county—maybe the state—and I won’t settle for anything but the best when it comes to my place.
“Right.” I roll my eyes and turn to walk up the steps to the double doors that lead into the chapel. Once I unlock the door, I push inside and take a deep breath. It smells a little musty and a little like saw dust. “Come on in, and I’ll go over my plans with you.”
“I can’t wait.”
I avoid eye contact as I turn on lights and then open a few of the windows to let in some fresh air.
“I haven’t been here in about a week so it’s stuffy.”
It’s one big room with a beautiful hardwood floor, which is original to the building, as well as a few wooden pews and an altar.
Those things will go or be repurposed, of course.
“No blood stain,” Apollo murmurs and then raises his head to meet my gaze.
“No. I had a company come in and clean the blood.”
He nods, and we’re both thinking of Sarah, whose ex-husband almost killed her in this chapel six months ago. It was a terrifying day, but my dear friend is safe, and her ex is tucked away in a maximum-security prison, so we can all put that behind us.
“Some people wouldn’t want to live in a place where something like that happened.”
I frown and shake my head. “It’s not the chapel’s fault. Besides, Sarah didn’t die, thank all the gods, and it was only a little blood to clean up. It’s fine.”
Apollo nods and looks around. “This is going to be really cool, Juniper.”
God, I love the way he says my name, and I normally hate being called by my full name. Everyone calls me June.
But not Apollo.
No, he has to say my full name like it’s sweetness on his tongue. He finds ways to slip it into conversation here and there, and it slides along my nerves like warm honey. Which only irritates me.
Unfortunately, after a night of bad decisions three months ago, I know exactly what it sounds like when he says my name in the middle of some mind-numbing sex, and I don’t think I’ll ever fully recover from that. Why, oh why, did I have to give in to temptation and accept his offer of going home with him at the bar that night? I wasn’t that drunk.
Except, I know why. It’s because the chemistry between us, despite my ferocious disdain for him, is off the charts, and I thought I could work him out of my system.
It didn’t work.
“Juniper.”
I blink and raise my eyebrows. “Sorry, what?”
He studies me with narrowed eyes. “What were you thinking about?”
“How annoying you are. What did you say?”
“How many rooms are you going to frame in?”
“Two bedrooms, one and a half baths.” I walk around, pointing out where I picture everything going. “There’s an office through that door that I’m going to turn into a laundry and mud room. And there’s a basement, but I don’t know what I’m going to do with it.”
“There’s a basement?” He sounds surprised, but then he nods and shoves his hands into his pockets. The movement makes the muscles in his arms and chest flex, and I have to take a long, slow breath. “That’s right. I’ve seen the small windows in the foundation. That’ll be good because we can run most of the wiring down. That’ll work for plumbing, too. Who do you have doing that?”
“Maxwell Tilly.”
Apollo nods in satisfaction. Max does a great job, and I was lucky that he could fit me into his schedule.
“Are you replacing the stained glass?”
Behind the altar there is a beautiful, arched piece of stained glass featuring Jesus on the cross. On each of the two walls perpendicular to that one, there are five more windows that display different scenes from the Bible.
“Yes. I thought long and hard about it, but I need more light. Not to mention, I absolutely don’t want Jesus watching every move I make, you know?”
“I can understand that. What are you going to do with them?”
“I’m selling them to a church in Portland who’s building a new place. They were excited to get these windows since they’re antique, and the
“That’s a good idea.”
“I didn’t want them to get chucked. So, I’m glad they’re going to a new home. They should have a crew out here to take them out next week.”
“That soon?”
“Yeah. I’m ready to get going on this project, Apollo.”
“I don’t blame you. Okay, well, I’ll have an estimate written up and sent over to you in the next couple of days. I can work in stages as you get things done. I know that’s not usually how we do it, but I think that once you get your hands into this, it’s going to go quickly.”
“That’s my hope. I’m still finishing things up over at the inn. Luna’s been impatient and disappointed that we hit some snafus.” I sigh. “There was way more outside work than I anticipated, and there was nothing I could do about it.”
“Luna’s fine,” he assures me. “My sister’s a smart woman, and she understands what delays and back orders on products can do to a project. Besides, she gets to have her big, fancy opening in time for Christmas, so she’s excited about that.”
“I am, too.” I nod and look around the room once more. “I’m hoping to be living here by Christmas.”
“Whoa. It’s the middle of October.”
“Yep.” I turn to him and offer him a bright smile. “So, we’d better get busy.”
Apollo’s phone rings at the same time as mine does, and when I check mine, I see it’s my crew at the inn.
“I’d better get back to work.”
“Me, too,” he replies. “I’ll be in touch about the estimate.”
“Thanks.”
He pulls up short and narrows his eyes at me.
“What?”
“You just thanked me. Do you have a fever?”
Now, my back is up, and I feel bristly. “Because I’m a fucking professional, Apollo. Now, get out of my chapel.”
“That’s more like it,” he decides with a nod and walks out ahead of me. I leave the windows open to let the place air out some more, but I make sure the door is locked before I walk to my truck.
Apollo is standing by his own truck, watching me with dark eyes that roam up and down my body.
“What?”
“Are we ever going to talk about it?”
“About what?” I’m not oblivious. I know what he’s referring to. An amazing night of sweaty sex and laughter and about twelve hours of truce where we did nothing but enjoy each other.
The next morning, he was gone, and we were back to our normal relationship.
“You know what.”
“I’m not going to stand here and play games with you. I have a job to do.”
I move to open the door of my truck, but Apollo jogs over to me, pushes the door closed, and pins me against the side.
“Pushy much?”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about.”
Against my will, my eyes drop to his lips. I can’t help it. They’re so firm and hot, and they did things to me that I didn’t know existed outside of romance novels.
But they do. They so do.
“We’re not going to talk about it,” I whisper, still looking at those lips. “Not ever. We agreed on that at the time, and you know it.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve reconsidered.”
“No.” My eyes meet his now. “You don’t get to change the rules just because you have an itch to scratch. I didn’t agree to be your friend with benefits, Apollo.”
“That’s not—”
“I have to get to work.”
I push him away and get into my truck. With all of the will in my body, I do not look out the window at him as I start the engine and drive away.
It isn’t until I’ve hit the end of the drive that I relent and allow myself one glance in the rearview. Apollo is still standing there with his hands on his hips and a scowl on that magnificent face as he stares after me.
I never promised him anything. In fact, before I even left the bar with him that night, we had agreed that nothing would change and that it would be just one night of sex. That’s it. No promises.
Now that it’s been a few months, he wants to talk about it? Unacceptable.
Absolutely not.
We’ve gone back to disliking each other, which is exactly the way it should be.
Shaking off that altercation with the annoyingly sexy Apollo, I roll down my window, take a deep breath, and shake it off.
Huckleberry Bay is quiet today. It’s a weekday, and we’re finally outside of the heart of the tourist season, so I can drive through town without having to find a back road to avoid delays. I love that I can see the ocean as I drive through town, and when I glance toward it, I can make out a few people on the beach with kites.
While it might be a sunny day, it’s not calm. We always have wind here on the ocean.
Before long, I’m through town and on my way up Lighthouse Way, the long road that leads up to the lighthouse and Luna’s new inn. I pass by her husband’s personal garage and see that two of the big doors are up and cars are being worked on in there.
Wolfe was a successful racecar driver for a long time, but last year, he was injured and had to retire. So, he came home to heal from his injuries and fell in love with Luna.
I can’t blame him. Luna’s damn lovable. She and Sarah have been my best friends since kindergarten.
As I drive up the hill, the lighthouse comes into view first, but then I can see the inn. It used to be an old barn on the property that hadn’t been used in many years, but we are almost finished remodeling it into a gorgeous bed-and-breakfast.
It should be open already, but I ran into problem after problem this summer with everything from landscapers to stonemasons to finishing carpenters. I laid my first patio all on my own because I was told that I’d have to wait for spring.
No way, no how.
Luna’s had to wait long enough as it is, and I wasn’t going to ask her to wait until spring for the patio off the gorgeous kitchen to be finished.
All that aside, it’s all finally coming together, and Luna should be ready for customers by November first.
Just in time for the holidays.
She’s often said that she wants to throw big, lavish holiday parties at the inn and invite everyone in Huckleberry Bay to attend. This year, that can happen, and I can’t wait to see how she dresses the place up.
I park under the little portico in front of the entrance of Luna’s Light and cut the engine, frowning when I see Wally, my finishing carpenter, leaning against a column.
“Shouldn’t you be inside?”
“It’s happening again.” His jaw tightens, and then he swears under his breath. “It’s damn unnerving, June.”
“Do you smell the roses?”
“That, and the doors have been shutting themselves and then opening back up again. I never agreed to work with a ghost.”
“I get it. Having Rose around can be disconcerting.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
I take a deep breath. I don’t want to lose Wally, so telling him to man up and tell the ghost to take a hike probably isn’t the best solution here.
“Let me see what I can do.”
I walk inside and hear some hammering upstairs as well as some movement in the small dining room.
Then I smell the roses.
I know for a fact that Luna hasn’t started the weekly flower deliveries yet, so this is all Rose, the ghost of a woman who died about a hundred and fifty years ago.
“Rose,” I say firmly, trying to sound authoritative. “I need you to stop scaring the workers. I know that you’ve saved our butts in the past, but I promise you that there’s no danger here to anyone. We need to finish up so Luna can finally open for business.”
“People would be nuts to stay here,” Wally mutters behind me, and he’s answered by a loud slamming door upstairs.
