Love on Maiden Lane (Romance)

By Patricia Gauthier

If there is such a thing as a guardian angel, Claire Ferguson’s had to be exhausted. She moved into her new condo for a fresh start. Everything was fine until she pulled her rattling, smoking car into her driveway. That was when the yelling started. Where the hell was the Welcome Wagon?
Lane Hartwell didn’t view himself as a grouch. So occasionally he yelled. Who didn’t? His sexy new neighbor was noisy and rude. He couldn’t work in chaos, and she was like a force of nature.
Love blossoms despite their differences, and their devotion to one another is unshakeable. Finally they can live happily ever after, except Claire’s kidnapper has other ideas. Horrible, twisted ideas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patricia Gauthier
• Release date: Sep 14, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311131140

Patricia Gauthier

Patricia Gauthier is a retired teacher. She has served the church in teaching, church leadership, church planting and speaking. She holds an MA from Wesleyan University and a MTS from Regent University, School of Divinity. She has published a thesis with Proquest LLC. One Baptism: The Power of Water and the Spirit is her first book written for a wider readership.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Claire tapped her hands on the steering wheel and sang along with the music blaring from the car radio. The wind whipped at her face and hair while she sang along with the song. She felt free and breezy. Her body buzzed with excitement. For the first time in her life she was on her own, making her own decisions and heading to her new home in San Francisco. It didn’t matter that she had no idea what she would encounter once she reached Maiden Lane, because it was still ‘away’ from North Dakota. The thought of living on her own in a new city and at a home that she owned outright made her giggle out loud. The icing on the cake was that the condo was fully furnished.

Claire sent a small thank you up to dear Mildred, who had bequeathed the condo to Clair without consulting her first. The generosity brought tears of gratitude to her eyes. Squealing and hissing from the back seat reminded her that not everyone was as happy as she was.

Beelzebub, hush up now. You have nothing to complain about. Besides, we’re almost there. Aren’t you the least bit excited? She rolled up her car window on the chance he didn’t like the breeze in his hair as much as she enjoyed the wind in hers. Rolled, as in with a handle, due to the old age of her car. The mangy, bedraggled cat pawed at the carrier door, making it rattle once again. His long black hair jutted out of every opening of the cage. Each time Claire looked back she vowed to put him on a diet. One missing ear, half of a tail, and one permanently closed eye, he was probably a good ten pounds overweight. Thank goodness he was black, or he’d look even fatter.

Come on, Bub. If you’ll be a good kitty for just a little longer I’ll give you a treat when we get there. Yeah, that diet will have to start another day.

Claire checked her Mapquest directions for at least the tenth time. The homes she saw looked way too affluent for anyone as down to earth as Mildred had been, God rest her soul. Who would have ever thought an orphan like she was would ever live in such a fine area? When she turned into a gated community she gasped. It was absolutely gorgeous!

She sat in her car outside the guard house and stared up at the neat rows of condos until someone tapped on her window. She nearly jumped out of her seat.

Her hand shook as she rolled the window down.

Hello. I’m not sure if I’m in the right place. Claire thrust her Mapquest papers at the uniformed guard.

He examined them without expression. Let me see…looks like this is the place, all right. Looks like you’re the new resident of the Harcourt place. His gruff voice belied his smiling face.

Yes. Mildred Harcourt left it to me. She’s ….gone, I’m afraid.

Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. She was a lovely lady, God rest her soul.

Yes, she was. I took care of her up until the very end, and I assure you her death was very peaceful and dignified. So I’m not dreaming? She really lived here and now I will, as well?

If you’re, He checked his clipboard and ran his finger down the page. Claire Ferguson, then you’re the new occupant of 344 Maiden Lane.

She put her hands over her face and rubbed vigorously for a second. This was a dream come true. She smiled back at the guard, whose nametag proclaimed him to be ‘Gus’.

Well, Gus, I’m pleased to meet you. She held out her hand to shake and was surprised when he took her hand into both of his.

My pleasure, Ms. Ferguson. I hope you enjoy living here. Your new home is all the way down Maiden Lane, last unit on the left.

Thank you, Gus. Bub screeched from the backseat. That’s my cat, Beelzebub, but I call him Bub for short. He’s a little crabby right now, so I'd better get going. Nice to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you around. Claire accelerated and winced at the loud rattling noise her vibrating muffler made. She kept meaning to look into that, but with everything happening so fast it had completely slipped her mind.

Slowly she pulled into the driveway, put the car in park and absorbed her new surroundings. The condo was so beautiful it brought tears of joy to her eyes. Its Victorian styling and neatly manicured lawn butted up to a small woodsy area that she knew Bub would just love. Yes, even Bub might be happy here. Claire was always happy, no matter where she lived. As an orphan she had learned to appreciate every seemingly small thing along with the big things. This fell into the colossal category. An angry sounding knock on her half-closed window made her jump.

A man stood next to the driver’s side window and waved his hand in front of his face to clear the grey cloud of exhaust fumes. Through the fog she could barely make out a pair of long legs clad in well-worn jeans.

Shut the damn car off! He coughed. I’m trying to work, but this death trap’s racket is very distracting. I’d think with the price of gas being so high you’d be more careful about your consumption.

Claire shut off her engine, a little rattled by this man’s vehemence. When she looked up to apologize he was already entering the condo next door. Well, that could have gone better, but she wouldn’t let it dissuade her. Geez, and I thought Bub was cranky.

Come on, Bub, lets take a look at our new digs. She opened her door and slid from her vehicle. When she slammed the door the piece of rust that clattered loudly to the ground at her feet made her wince. Oops, she probably shouldn’t have slammed it that hard. She opened the back door and grabbed Bub’s carrier before slamming that door shut. She had no choice, since it didn’t close unless she gave it her all.

From an upstairs window of the condo next door a man shouted, Quit slamming the doors!

She stuck her tongue out toward the neighbor’s open window before marching to the front door of her new home. She took a deep breath, then unlocked it. A gasp of awe and surprise escaped her lips as she set Bub’s carrier down in the foyer.

The house was exactly as she had dreamt it would be, right down to the throw-rugs and finished wood floors. It was perfect. Slowly Claire strolled around the main floor, occasionally caressing various objects with the tips of her fingers. Antiques filled the beautifully kept home. The thought of the history each piece held awed her. She felt as if each embraced her very soul.

Oh, Mildred, how in the world will I ever thank you for all of this? Tears streaked down her face as she remembered the lovely woman who had given her far more than she’d ever dared to dream she would have. No wonder you always spoke of wanting to come back home. She spoke to the ceiling, hoping a part of Mildred still lived on in the house.

I promise I’ll do my very best to make you proud of me.

When Bub screeched she went back to the cat carrier and opened the door. Half-way out of the door the cat froze, his nose twitched in the air while he absorbed all the new scents. Once he was reassured that nothing dangerous would attack him he began to explore his surroundings. Claire chuckled to herself when she saw him walking as gingerly as a drunk who was pretending to be sober.

After a full hour of exploring her new home Claire headed outside to unload her meager possessions from the car. This time she made sure she didn’t slam too many doors.

Frowning, she remembered that Mildred had told her an elderly gentleman lived next door. The man she’d met certainly wasn’t elderly, not with a fine ass like his. Maybe he was a grandson or someone caring for the old man. The thought of that grouch caring for anyone made her cringe. Maybe both men were of the same temperament. Or maybe the old man was driving the younger one crazy. Anything was possible. Claire decided to keep as quiet as possible. She wanted to avoid becoming enemies with her neighbors. What was the saying…Fences make for good neighbors? Or something to that effect.

Claire wandered around the house and opened the windows to air it out. Not that the smell bothered her. It smelled like old wood and potpourri, and it somehow comforted her. This was the way she’d imagined a grandmother’s house smelled, though she would never know for sure. Bub hopped onto the table in front of the window and scanned the wooded area on the other side of the screen. Every once in a while his half tail swished back and forth wildly. She opened the wooden back door off the kitchen and scanned the backyard. She the woodsy aroma of the cool air. Claire opened and closed the cupboard doors while she took a mental inventory. She shook her head in astonishment. The kitchen lacked nothing. It even had a nifty hot water dispenser at the sink! Now all she needed was food. She plugged in the refrigerator and smiled at the quiet hum it made as it sprang back to life.

When Claire noticed the radio/CD player mounted under the cabinet she grabbed her CD collection and began looking for the appropriate mood music. Hah! Perfect! Springsteen’s Born in the USA poured from the small but powerful speakers. Bose, no wonder it sounds so good. Claire couldn’t resist the beat as she danced through the kitchen while she sang along. She pulled the rubber-band from her hair and let her long tresses swing around her head while she danced.

I sure hope you’re not here to start a singing career.

She whirled around and found herself staring through the screen door at the handsomest, albeit grouchiest, man she had ever seen. For the first time in her life she couldn’t think of a word to say. His silhouette filled the doorway. His muscular shoulders were straight and his hands rested on his narrow hips.

After a moment of blatant adoration Claire realized she had just been insulted and stiffened her spine before answering.

I sure hope you’re not planning on a career as a peeping Tom, because you suck at it, she shot back.

What’s your complaint now?" She folded her arms over her chest.

The music’s quite loud, don’t you think? His dark eyebrows rose as he spoke.

If I thought it was too loud I would have turned it down. Notice I didn’t do that. Claire moved closer to the door. If you would like me to turn it down you don’t have to insult me. All you have to do is ask nicely, which I’m sure is a stretch for you. Claire knew she should have been nicer but, damn it, she was pissed.

Fine. Please turn down the music. It was phrased as a request. The tone sounded more like an order, but he did say please, so she obliged. When she turned the volume down by half she turned to ask if it was now at an acceptable level, but he was already gone. Asshole.

She refused to let him dampen her spirits. Switching to loud humming, she resumed her dancing, this time picking-up Bub to dance with her. The cat hated dancing so much. He moaned in her arms to the beat of the music. Too bad, so sad.

CHAPTER 2

That woman had to be the most infuriating creature on the face of the earth. Lane couldn’t believe the elderly woman who was supposed to live next door had hired such an inconsiderate cleaning woman, not to mention the fact that instead of cleaning she was dancing around in the kitchen. Where were the people with a work ethic? With resolve he wrote down the date and time of each of their encounters. He intended to let the old biddy know how she’d been ripped-off by her employee.

When Lane bought his condo the relator had assured him that a sweet little old lady lived next door. Hell, he’d even checked for himself with the condo association and learned her record was clean. Never a complaint from anyone in the ten years she had lived there. Yet here he was, dealing with the loudmouth dancing, music blaring, muffler- rattling creature. He looked at his watch and couldn’t believe she’d only been there for two hours. Huh, one complaint per hour was excessive, even for him.

Immediately he justified his behavior. His work required complete concentration. Computer programs with one false stroke could mess-up an entire corporation. Lane prided himself on his stellar reputation as an independent computer consultant. He couldn’t let one little woman mess that up, even if she was…attractive. All right, make that gorgeous. He had allowed his anger to downgrade her beauty, but he couldn’t lie. She was a knock-out. Too bad she wasn’t his type. All that happy, bouncy dancing and her perpetual smile, even when she was telling him off, got on his nerves. What had his last girlfriend said? Oh yeah, he was anal. Whatever the hell that meant.

Good thing he’d sworn off women. They were too complicated and…needy. They clung like little suction cups to a window until you needed a butter knife to pry them off you. And they were expensive.

Who needed to put up with that shit? He’d been perfectly happy hooking-up with an occasional one night stand or a hooker to satisfy his sexual needs. Who in his right mind needed all that extra baggage? He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before reaching into the fridge for a beer. Now that he’d lost his concentration he might as well sit on the patio and relax. Without thinking, he glanced next door and watched the cleaning lady dance while she put away groceries. Wow, the old lady must really like peanut butter. He watched the young woman put three jars into the pantry, then dance her way out again. Where the hell does she get all that energy?

Lane took a sip of his beer and looked away briefly. With nothing else of interest to look at he went back to watching the neighbor’s house. At least it was something to do on a Saturday night. He shook his head when he realized how lame that thought was. Maybe he should take some night classes. He vowed to check out the community college offerings tomorrow, even though he knew he wouldn’t follow through. He never had before, why would today be any different? Except it was different. The first step to getting help was admitting one had a problem or, in his case, no life outside of work. Sad, but true.

Lane took the last swig of his beer and looked next door again. The lights had been turned off and the house looked to be locked-up tighter than a drum. Apparently the floor show was over. He listened for the loud muffler to start up again, but it never did. He’d never heard of a sleep-over cleaning woman, but he guessed anything was possible nowadays.

Claire fell into bed exhausted. Bub paced around the bedroom restlessly, as if he wasn’t sure where to settle in for the night.

Bub, come in bed with me. You’re driving me crazy. He leaped up and curled onto the pillow next to hers.

When she woke the next morning Bub was still in the same spot, snoring slightly because of his pushed-in nose. He wouldn’t win any beauty contests, but he was a wonderful companion.

Claire shuffled into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and undressed quickly, dreaming about the fresh coffee she would brew. Without testing the water she stepped fully under the showers spray and screamed loudly. Crap, the water was ice cold. Moaning, she realized she’d forgotten to light the pilot on the gas water heater last night. Clinching her jaw, she washed in the frigid water as fast as humanly possible. Even the fluffy towel she’d wrapped herself in didn’t warm her. On the up side, she was now wide awake.

Claire dressed hastily and ran downstairs to the kitchen. The aroma of the coffee beans made her moan with pleasure. Usually she was very frugal with her money, but good, fresh coffee was her one extravagance.

When the coffee was done brewing she poured herself a strong cup and headed out into the backyard with Bub on her heels to explore. The morning fog swirled around her ankles and settled onto her hair and body like a blanket. She squinted into the fog as she struggled to make out the different shapes of objects. It was no use. She sat on the patio swing and waited for the fog to lift before exploring and planning her flower beds. With her one leg tucked underneath her, she gently pushed the swing into motion with her other dangling foot. The sound of the chains' low moan had her making a mental note to oil the springs and links. Although she found the sound comforting, she knew it would irritate the guy next door, and she didn’t want to deal with him today. Taking a deep sip of her coffee she, moaned with pleasure while her eyes closed briefly. Perfect.

Claire sat and made a mental list of the things she wanted to accomplish today. Unpacking topped the list, then cleaning the entire house. But before she could finish her list she heard Bub meowing and hissing loudly. With the heavy fog she couldn’t see him, so she set down her mug and followed the sound to the neighbor’s house. Crap. Crouching low, she whispered to him as she strained her vision, trying to make out his figure through the fog.

Bub! Bub, where are you? Don’t you dare get me in trouble today, mister. Come to me. Come here, Bub. Her head hit some immovable object and caused her to plop unceremoniously onto her butt. Two large, masculine bare feet stood between her legs. Slowly her eyes traveled up. Way, way, up, over jeans that were zipped but not buttoned, to a very muscular, manly chest, then into dark chestnut eyes and sandy blonde hair. His hunky arms were extended out in front of him. An angry and howling Bub dangled out and away from his body. Disgust and anger were written all over the man's face.

Is this…thing yours? He waved Bub around a little and the cat hissed louder.

Claire stood and dried her hands on the front of her jeans before taking Bub from her neighbor and cradling him to her chest.

Yes. And he has a name. It’s Beelzebub, but you can call him Bub. She stroked Bub's soft fur behind his ear as she soothed him.

Well, the name certainly fits. You better look-up the phone number for the local animal shelter and keep it by the phone, because if I… He sneezed four times in succession before finishing. Find him in my yard again I’ll be calling them for a pick-up. He pulled a tissue from his pocket and blew his nose loudly. How much longer are you going to be here? He stuffed the used tissue back into his pocket and rested his hands on his hips. An angry scowl took over his handsome features, and if looks could kill, both she and Bub would be done-for.

I don’t know what you mean. She turned and walked back to her door and put Bub in the house. Crabby