back.
After driving several miles past the store, Meredith’s curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she’d driven back and pulled in. Then she’d cut the engine and stepped out into the parking lot.
Aside from her car and the blue pickup, the place had been deserted. She’d walked in with a furrowed brow, unsure of what she’d find inside.
True to the sign out front, the store had been filled with furniture: chairs, tables, dressers, and bureaus. Many were plain wood, unstained, and several were still in progress. It appeared all the furniture had been built by hand.
The shop was comprised of one large room, with several support beams in the center to solidify the structure. There was a door in back, but it was closed, and as far as she knew there were no other buildings behind it.
After perusing the contents of the shop for a few minutes with no sign of the owner, she’d forced a cough, hoping to announce her presence. It was then that she’d heard the noise coming from out back—a slow, rhythmic scraping coming from behind the shop.
Meredith had walked out of the store and made her way around back. The area around the furniture shop was covered in field grass, with no other buildings in sight. If it weren’t for the several stores that she knew were about a mile down the road, it would almost feel like the building had been transplanted from somewhere else, thrust into nature without forethought.
When she reached the back of the store, she saw a figure in the distance—a man bent over a piece of wood, his arms moving in a repeated pattern. As she walked closer, she could see that he was using a hand plane.
She was ten feet away before he noticed her. When he did, he jumped.
“Hi,” Meredith said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
The man set down the plane and smiled.
“That’s OK. I needed a break anyway.”
He rose to his feet to greet her, dusting his palms on his jeans.
Meredith noticed several things at the same time: he was a lot taller than her, he was in great shape, and he was handsome. Before she knew it she was blushing, and she took a few awkward steps forward to meet his hand.
“I’m Meredith Tilly.”
“John Parish,” he said.
With the introductions over with, she shoved her hands in her jeans pockets, hoping he wouldn’t see her shaking. Normally Meredith was outgoing and relaxed, but something about him had her off her game.
“I love the store. When did you open?”
“Today, actually.”
“Really?”
“Yep. You’re my first customer.” This time it was his turn to blush.
“Hopefully I’ll be the first of many.”
John smiled.
“Where’d you move from?” she asked, recalling the Michigan license plate.
“Detroit.”
“That’s a long ways from Settler’s Creek, Oklahoma. How’d you end up here?”
John shrugged.
“This place isn’t exactly a commercial hotbed,” she said.
She immediately clasped her hand over her mouth.
“I’m sorry. That might have come out wrong. I guess I’m just surprised that you’d choose our little town.”
John laughed. “I know. I just wanted a change of pace. This is actually a lifelong dream of mine, believe it or not. I’ve been building kitchens and wall units for years, but I’ve always wanted to run my own furniture shop. I passed through here on a road trip a while back and I fell in love.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great here.” She smiled.
“Thanks. My plan is to manufacture most of my furniture here and then sell it at local shows and conventions.”
“I assume everything here is handmade?” she asked.
“Yep. And if you don’t see something here that you’d like, I’d be happy to build it for you.”
“I might take you up on that. I’m actually in the market for a new kitchen table and chairs.”
Meredith flashed a smile. In truth, she didn’t need a kitchen set, because she rarely had visitors. The furniture she had was in decent enough shape, and besides, she
After driving several miles past the store, Meredith’s curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she’d driven back and pulled in. Then she’d cut the engine and stepped out into the parking lot.
Aside from her car and the blue pickup, the place had been deserted. She’d walked in with a furrowed brow, unsure of what she’d find inside.
True to the sign out front, the store had been filled with furniture: chairs, tables, dressers, and bureaus. Many were plain wood, unstained, and several were still in progress. It appeared all the furniture had been built by hand.
The shop was comprised of one large room, with several support beams in the center to solidify the structure. There was a door in back, but it was closed, and as far as she knew there were no other buildings behind it.
After perusing the contents of the shop for a few minutes with no sign of the owner, she’d forced a cough, hoping to announce her presence. It was then that she’d heard the noise coming from out back—a slow, rhythmic scraping coming from behind the shop.
Meredith had walked out of the store and made her way around back. The area around the furniture shop was covered in field grass, with no other buildings in sight. If it weren’t for the several stores that she knew were about a mile down the road, it would almost feel like the building had been transplanted from somewhere else, thrust into nature without forethought.
When she reached the back of the store, she saw a figure in the distance—a man bent over a piece of wood, his arms moving in a repeated pattern. As she walked closer, she could see that he was using a hand plane.
She was ten feet away before he noticed her. When he did, he jumped.
“Hi,” Meredith said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
The man set down the plane and smiled.
“That’s OK. I needed a break anyway.”
He rose to his feet to greet her, dusting his palms on his jeans.
Meredith noticed several things at the same time: he was a lot taller than her, he was in great shape, and he was handsome. Before she knew it she was blushing, and she took a few awkward steps forward to meet his hand.
“I’m Meredith Tilly.”
“John Parish,” he said.
With the introductions over with, she shoved her hands in her jeans pockets, hoping he wouldn’t see her shaking. Normally Meredith was outgoing and relaxed, but something about him had her off her game.
“I love the store. When did you open?”
“Today, actually.”
“Really?”
“Yep. You’re my first customer.” This time it was his turn to blush.
“Hopefully I’ll be the first of many.”
John smiled.
“Where’d you move from?” she asked, recalling the Michigan license plate.
“Detroit.”
“That’s a long ways from Settler’s Creek, Oklahoma. How’d you end up here?”
John shrugged.
“This place isn’t exactly a commercial hotbed,” she said.
She immediately clasped her hand over her mouth.
“I’m sorry. That might have come out wrong. I guess I’m just surprised that you’d choose our little town.”
John laughed. “I know. I just wanted a change of pace. This is actually a lifelong dream of mine, believe it or not. I’ve been building kitchens and wall units for years, but I’ve always wanted to run my own furniture shop. I passed through here on a road trip a while back and I fell in love.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great here.” She smiled.
“Thanks. My plan is to manufacture most of my furniture here and then sell it at local shows and conventions.”
“I assume everything here is handmade?” she asked.
“Yep. And if you don’t see something here that you’d like, I’d be happy to build it for you.”
“I might take you up on that. I’m actually in the market for a new kitchen table and chairs.”
Meredith flashed a smile. In truth, she didn’t need a kitchen set, because she rarely had visitors. The furniture she had was in decent enough shape, and besides, she
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