N. Walters - By the Book

Whether he wanted to or not, he’d keep an eye on her until her business with Elizabeth was settled. Not that it would be any hardship, but it might get downright uncomfortable. His balls tightened in agreement.

“Are you ready, Elizabeth?” He inclined his head toward Amanda as he pocketed her business card. He’d definitely check into her past and her business.

“I’m ready.” Elizabeth turned to Amanda. “Thank you for doing this. I know you’re not quite ready for customers yet. But when Alicia mentioned you to me, it was too perfect an opportunity for me to pass up.”

He hadn’t known that Alicia Flint, Elizabeth’s divorce lawyer, had recommended Amanda. He’d have to ask his sister about that. Or maybe he’d talk to Alicia.

“It’s really no problem.” Amanda’s easy smile sent Jonah’s blood pressure skyrocketing. Objectively, she was cute, even a little average in looks. But his body didn’t seem to care. There was something about Amanda that called to him on the most basic of levels.

They all walked to the door and Amanda said goodbye to them. As Jonah pulled his truck away from the curb, he couldn’t resist glancing in his rearview mirror. Amanda was still standing in the doorway watching them leave.

Whoever had said that owning a home was easy had obviously never owned one. Not that she didn’t love her new house, because she did. Amanda loved the fact that it had stood for a hundred years. It had history. It was the same thing that she loved about the antiquarian book business—the sense of history, of connection with the past.

She loved the thick moldings in every room and the hand-carved newel post at the bottom of the stairs. She absolutely adored the scuffed hardwood floors and the large slab of oak that acted as a mantelpiece over the tiny stone fireplace in the living room.

Sure, it all needed work and a little tender loving care, but that was fine by her. She wasn’t afraid of hard work. Was looking forward to it. She’d even stopped by the hardware store and picked up some paint chips the day before. There were so many colors to choose from.

No, the fact that it needed some work wasn’t the problem. She loved her new home.

What she didn’t like was the finicky electrical system.

Amanda grabbed her flashlight and opened the door to the basement. Holding tight to the railing, she took a deep breath and started down the rickety steps. This was definitely something she’d have to have fixed. Eventually. Right now, she had bigger concerns. Namely that two of the electrical outlets in the front room didn’t work.

She was praying it was just a tripped breaker, but she was very much afraid it was something more.

“You checked on the plumbing before you bought the place because you wanted to make sure you had plenty of hot water, but you didn’t think to check on the electrical system,” she muttered as she shone the flashlight into the gloom.

She hated basements. They were dark and dingy and sometimes damp. They almost always had a musty, closed-up smell about them, and this one was no different.

If she remembered correctly, there was a light switch at the bottom of the stairs.

Something else she needed to add to her to-do list. She definitely needed a switch at the top of the stairs.

Flashing the light along the wall near the bottom, she gave a crow of triumph when she found what she was looking for. “Gotcha.” She flicked the switch and smiled when the bare bulb came to life. “Damn it,” she muttered when it flickered out two seconds later.

She almost retreated up the stairs, but held her ground. “You’re a homeowner now,”

she reminded herself. “You’ve got to learn how to deal with these things.”

Amanda swore she could practically hear Seymour telling her to buck up and get on with it. “Too bad you’re not here, you old goat. I’d make you do this.”

Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them back. Seymour wouldn’t want her to cry. Even on his deathbed, he hadn’t wanted her tears. “I’ve lived a long and interesting life, girl. I’ve got no regrets. Now it’s time for you to live life to the fullest.”

When she’d protested, he’d scowled at her. “Don’t think I don’t know the only reason you’ve stuck around here all these years is because of me. You don’t need to have some old man taking up all your time. You’re young. You need to get out there in the world and live a little.”

Amanda rubbed her eyes as the memories threatened to overwhelm her. Seymour had been family. The only one she’d every really had. After shuffling from foster home to foster home for most of her life, Amanda had been emancipated at the age of eighteen.

As a birthday gift, she’d been booted out of the home she’d been living in for the last six months, as the state would no longer pay for her upkeep.

Alone and desperate, Amanda had answered an ad in the local paper. It had simply said, “Assistant wanted.”

She’d been fascinated by Seymour Morton and his books from the moment she’d stepped into his jam-packed store on Mission Road. Books had always been Amanda’s escape from reality. The thought of being able to make a living and support herself while being around books was intriguing and very appealing.

Seymour had taken one look at Amanda and scowled at her. She’d scowled right back at him. Tall and thin to the point of being gaunt, he was an intimidating sight with his wild shock of white hair and his bushy white mustache. But she didn’t care. She’d been in the foster care system too long to show fear. To show fear was to give another person power over you, power they usually abused.

The strangest thing had happened then. Rather than be angry with her for scowling at him, he’d smiled, flashing two gold teeth in the front. “You’ve got spunk. I like that.”

From that day forth, she’d worked beside him, soaking up all his knowledge, which he’d shared freely. He’d become her teacher, her friend and the family she’d never had.

Now he was gone and she was alone again.

“Buck up, Amanda.” She walked down the final step and moved into the basement, flashing the light along the wall. The electrical box was somewhere on her left. She remembered that much from when she’d toured the house before she bought it. “You’re having an adventure.”

Although, this was the kind of adventure she could have done without. She shivered as a cold draft skated over her face. No doubt about it, she didn’t want to be down here, especially with nothing more than a flashlight.

She quickened her pace. The faster she found out the problem, the faster she could get out of here. The electrical box was right where she remembered it. Holding the light steady, she opened it and peered inside. There didn’t seem to be anything amiss.

This was so not good. Why hadn’t she checked the electrical system before she bought the house? “Because you were so in love with the house you would have bought it no matter what,” she muttered.

Slamming the door to the panel shut, she whirled around and bolted for the stairs.

What she needed was an expert. The electrical system was nothing to fool around with.

She needed to make certain she wouldn’t fry her computer system. That definitely wouldn’t be good for business.

The light in the kitchen seemed unusually bright after the pitch darkness of the basement and Amanda blinked several times to accustom her eyes. The mug of coffee she’d poured before she’d gone downstairs still sat on the kitchen counter. She laid aside the flashlight and picked up her mug, taking a large swallow. She hoped it would chase away the cold shivers.

She’d unpacked the coffee pot, supplies and her large sunflower motif mug first thing this morning. Amanda couldn’t imagine starting her day without coffee. After Elizabeth and her sexy brother, Jonah, had left yesterday, Amanda had spent the remainder of the afternoon making notes and running to the local stores. She’d bought cleaning supplies and some basic groceries, most of which were still in bags.

Her plan this morning had been to start cleaning the kitchen before she unpacked enough pots and dishes to get by on. She wanted to paint before she settled in.

Yes, she still had to work, but a couple hours a day on her laptop would take care of everything that needed to be dealt with. She’d worked hard preparing for this move during the past few months since Seymour’s death, and she had scheduled several weeks off to allow for painting and minor repairs.

She guessed this qualified as a minor repair. At least she hoped it was minor. She had a sneaking suspicion it would be anything but.

The big question was, who did she call?

She laid down her mug and stared at the boxes and bags piled in the middle of the kitchen. “Where did I put that phone book?” A quick search turned up absolutely nothing.

Amanda was slightly disgusted with herself. She was usually much better organized, but she’d been a bit scattered lately.

Picking up her cell phone, she dialed the one number in town she knew by heart. At the last second, she checked her watch and swore under her breath. It was only quarter to eight in the morning.

“Stone Manor, how may I help you?” A deep voice reverberated through the phone line. At least Cyndi’s husband, Shamus, was up and around.

Cyndi O’Rourke was the reason that Amanda had moved to Jamesville. She’d met the woman almost a year ago when she’d handled the library of her late father’s estate.

They’d become immediate friends. Cyndi hadn’t been married to Shamus then, but Amanda had known it would happen. A blind man could see how much in love the two of them were.