Reflecting Love's Charms (Bellingwood Book 14) by Diane Greenwood Muir

lumber. She wanted to pat it and tell it how happy she was that it was here, but thought that might be too much.
    Another truck pulling into the driveway drew her attention. Polly had no idea what GPR stood for, so she waited for the young man to get out. She began to feel a little foolish when he didn't open the door right up and she realized that he was texting or checking email or doing something on his phone. So, she sent another text to Henry.
    "What's GPR?"
    "Nice timing," he sent back.
    "What is it?"
    "Ground penetrating radar. Barry owes me a favor. He's going to check the yard for more underground rooms."
    "Really? This fast?"
    "Tell me what you're doing at the house today?"
    Polly wondered why he was asking. "I was going to start ripping into the shrubs on the side of the house."
    "Exactly. You are on a mission and I can't keep you out of that place. It's easier to just get on it and know you're safe."
    "Oh." She chuckled. He really did know her well. "He's finally getting out of his truck. I'll talk to you later." Polly sent the text and walked over to the young man who had studiously ignored her as he opened the back of his pickup.
    "Hello there," she said. "Are you Barry?"
    He stuck his head around the truck and said, "You Henry's wife?"
    "I am. He says you're checking for underground rooms."
    "Yeah. He told me you fell in one yesterday. Don't want that happening again. I'll check for telephone and cable while I'm here. Might as well know where everything is."
    "You probably won't find much," Polly said. "No one's lived here since the nineteen-forties."
    He nodded and stuck his head back into the truck.
    "I'll be around," Polly said. "Let me know if you need anything." She waited a moment for a response and when none came, walked away.
    "Chatty fellow," she texted to Henry.
    He came back with, "LOL."
    "You're chatty too," she muttered. "I hate texting that man when he's busy."
    Two hours later, Polly retreated to her truck for something to drink and a break from the heat. Barry hadn't said anything to her yet and she had no idea how long he was planning to work. There was no way she was leaving before him, just in case he had interesting information to reveal. The door to her truck stood open and she rolled the window down on the passenger side. The cool breeze was relaxing and she leaned her head back and shut her eyes. Just for a minute.
    "Are you Miss Giller?"
    Polly popped her eyes open and sat up straight. "Hello there," she said and put her hand out. "Yes I am."
    "My name is Pat Lynch," the older woman said. "I haven't had a chance to get down to meet you since we got back from Florida last month." She nodded down the street. "We live just around the corner there in the brown house with red shutters."
    Polly nodded. "You spend winters in Florida?"
    "Every year," the woman said with a smile. "But we miss home and our friends, so as long as we can make the trip back and forth, we will. Betty said you all bought this old place. It looks like you've taken on quite a task. It's about time someone decided to do something. My Albert used to trim the bushes along the sidewalk until he couldn't do that any longer. Don't know why the city didn't take better care of it." She chuckled. "Maybe they were scared of the ghost. That was quite a lot of excitement last fall."
    "Did you know Mr. Bridger?" Polly asked.
    "I sure did. His mama, too. Me and Albert, we've been married and living in our house for fifty-three years. We raised three kids and now we have eight grandkids and three great grandchildren. They're one of the best reasons for coming back to Iowa. Well," she said. "One of our granddaughters lives in Tampa. She has two babies, so we see her during the winter. Betty says you have a couple of older kids. But they aren't yours. Did you adopt them?"
    Polly watched helplessly as Barry put his equipment in his truck. Without so much as a look her way, he climbed back into the driver's seat, backed out, and drove off.