Page 1 of Organized Chaos

CHAPTER ONE

Sarah Pierce often found herself in one adventure or another. Life was meant to belived,and she had no problems letting the road take her wherever it willed. Today, that road led north. Farmland undulated in rolling hills topped with green grasses. A crisp bite in the wind caused her to reach for the sweater she’d discarded earlier. She maneuvered to the side of the road and slipped her arms into the warm sleeves. Her grandmother’s rosemary perfume tickled her nose, and she allowed herself a moment to breathe in the aromatic scent.

A bird cawed overhead and began to circle over her truck. “Oh no you don’t.” Sarah pulled back onto the road and glared at the bird as she trundled away. “Can’t stop for half a minute without the vultures circling.” She tsked and shook her head, then slammed on the brakes. Her truck fishtailed but Sarah paid it no mind. She had bigger things to consider, like the absolutely fantastic behemoth of a house perched on a hill. Even from this distance, she spotted the sagging porch and blown-out windows. It screamed “I’m abandoned! Come find my treasure.”

Sarah rubbed her palms together and gave her best villain cackle. It died quickly with no one around to hear. She wheeledinto the drive. “Please, Lord, let there be someone around.” She bounced over the gravel drive, topped a small hill, and spotted a pristine ranch house tucked away beneath a row of trees just beginning to green out with spring. A barn sat behind the house, and tiny figures that might be horses dotted the fields.

She pressed harder on the gas and sped toward the house, where she arrived in a spray of gravel and a shuddering cough from her old truck.

A man stepped out of the barn, glanced her way, then began a slow approach.

Sarah grabbed her business card—the only one she had left because she’d forgotten to order more—and hopped from the cab. She met the man halfway, held out the hand with the card and gave him her mega-watt smile. “Morning. I’m Sarah Pierce. I refurbish old furniture, giving it new life. I saw the house over there and wondered if you’d let me check it out.”

The man looked at her card, then her, then the house to his left. He scratched his cheek with one knuckle and tipped his cowboy hat back. “You want to go in the old homestead?”

“Yes.” So much yes that her heart fluttered just thinking about it. She rocked from her heels to her toes and back again. “If I find pieces that I’m interested in purchasing, I’ll offer you a fair price.”

Her words seemed to confuse him, but he held out the card while nodding. “Alright then. Be careful out there. Place is falling apart.” His mouth thinned into a flat line. “You’re not planning on getting hurt out there, then suing me, are you?”

Outrage jolted her into snapping her head side to side. “I wouldn’t dare, sir.” She motioned over her shoulder. “I have a form in the truck that waives all responsibility on your part if something does happen. I’d be happy to sign it and leave it with you.”

The rancher gave her a short nod. “I’d appreciate that.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Well, my son will. He’s the one who thinks of stuff like that.”

Sarah rushed to her truck and grabbed the paper from her bag. Thank goodness she’d remembered to bring it, or she’d have to pass on the gorgeous potential that waited for her in the old house. It was going to be a gold mine. She felt it in her bones. A quick scribble of her name and she thrust the paper back at the man. “I didn’t catch your name.” Probably because she’d forgotten to even ask for it.

“Roger Williams.” He folded the paper and shoved it into his jeans’ back pocket. “Pleasure meeting you, but I’d best get back to work.”

Sarah didn’t bother waiting for him to walk away before she hopped into her truck and floored it down the overgrown drive. Her heart rate increased with every turn of the wheels. The house had to be over a hundred years old. Her palms itched with the need to create. Her online crafting business needed an influx of new pieces. She’d gotten wrapped up in transforming a couch and let her inventory fall to a staggering low number.

The beast of a house stretched two full stories overhead, and she spotted a pair of doors near the ground that told her there was at least a cellar underneath the structure, if not a full basement.

She killed the engine, grabbed her bag, and slung it over her shoulder. Oak trees spread out in a long line toward another, smaller house on her left. Sarah buffed her arms as another spring breeze rattled tree branches and cut through her sweater. “Treasure, here I come.” She clapped her hands and reached for the doorknob. It stuck under her hand, and she wrenched it around. The door was swollen from the damp air and lack of use. It groaned as she put her shoulder against the thick oak and heaved.

A high-pitched screech sounded as the door grated over the wooden floors. Sarah grunted and shoved harder. The door gave way, sending Sarah sprawling. She stumbled forward several steps, banged her knee on the corner of a narrow table and crashed into an enormous hutch. Her palms thudded on the thick glass. “Thank you, Lord, that it didn’t break.” That’s just what she needed, to slice her arms to ribbons. Again.

She used the tail of her shirt to clean her handprints from the glass then turned to fully survey the room. Her mouth popped open, and a squeal of delight bounced around the room. “Yes. This is perfect.” She patted the hutch behind her. “And I won’t forget about you.” She could already imagine the hutch cleaned up and repainted a solid white. Maybe some flowers along the corners to soften the harsh lines.

Sheets covered other pieces of furniture on the other side of the room. Sarah rushed over, caught her toe on a rise in the rug, and landed in a heap on the floor. A rugburn sent pain flaring up her arm. She hissed through her teeth and eyed the red skin. Grunting, she rolled upright and unslung her bag to grab the tube of Neosporin. A quick dab and a band-aid later, she stood and tried again to make her way over to the shrouded objects.

Dust billowed when she grabbed a sheet and yanked. The yellowed fabric pooled at her feet and she waved a hand in front of her face to clear the air. A cough tickled the back of her throat, but the object she’d revealed made it worthwhile.

The dresser had to be six feet long and three feet wide. Thick, ornate drawer pulls gave it an antique look that complemented the dark wood. Okay, now this was a piece that she’d simply restore. It was too beautiful to cover with paint.

Sarah trailed her fingertips over the glossy wood. “What kind of stories would you tell?” If only furniture could talk. She giggled at the idea and abandoned the rest of the furniture for a peek upstairs. “Who knows what’s up there.” She enjoyed thesound of her own voice drowning out the solemn quiet. She’d never been afraid of entering old spaces by herself. In fact, her job choices had waffled between scrounging old furniture for her online business and filming abandoned buildings. This way she got the best of both.

The steps creaked and groaned as Sarah crept upstairs. There was a hint of something heavy in the air, and for the first time, Sarah got the feeling that she was trespassing. This had once been someone’s home.

She rolled her shoulders and continued her ascent. The hallway stretched long and narrow, with doors on either side. The first door opened with a quick twist of her wrist, and she stepped into a nursery.

Downstairs, a floorboard creaked.

Sarah tipped her head toward the noise, then heard a scratching in the walls. Her breath rushed out. Rats in the walls. Nothing she hadn’t dealt with before. She backed out of the room and moved on to the next. Twin beds sat on opposite sides of the room with a bay window decorated in pink curtains between them.

The scratching sound came again, followed by a longer creak. Must be one big rat. Sarah planted her hands on her hips and faced the open door. “I’m not leaving. You can stop with the eerie noises. I’m not afraid of you.”

A tickling sensation slid over the back of her neck. Sarah stiffened and reached back. A spider skuttled over her knuckles and ran down her arm, right past her eye where she’d arched her hand behind her. She screamed loud enough to shatter windows and tore from the room. The steps shuddered under her running steps. Rats she could handle, but she didnotdeal with spiders.

She slammed into something solid and bounced back. Her eyes smarted and her nose hurt where she smashed it. What hadshe run into? She’d thought her path to the front door clear. Sarah blinked and swiped at her eyes to clear them.

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