There wasn’t much he could do, except work. Work had saved his father and his grandfather many a time. It was almost like he could hear Grandpa Bauer say, “Work until you’re ready to break—then the good Lord has something to work with.”
Chet slid on his worn leather gloves and shut the door behind him as he headed out to the fields.
Chapter 10
Mercedes and Cat dragged themselves out of the car toward Big C’s. It was a small square building with a large patio in the front. There were tables crowded together, and a few families with small children ate outside.
The girls had pushed through the exhaustion, muscle pain, and discouragement to finish the master bedroom. It had taken them all day, but they’d put their heads down and pressed on through. Now, they were too tired to consider cooking.
“Grandpa’s going to love the paneling.” Cat’s smile was there one second and gone the next.
Mercedes’s smile hung out a bit longer. “He’d better. I’m not taking it down.”
That earned a longer smile from Cat. “The crown molding was a nice touch. Those corners were a nightmare, but I think they turned out good.”
Mercedes pulled open the door and a cool blast of air hit her face. Ah, air conditioning. She’d spent some long days in the sun helping her grandpa maintain and improve his apartment buildings. Whenever she went inside after a day like that, she swore she would never take air conditioning for granted again. Today was no exception.
Inside Big C’s, terracotta tiles lined the floor, a tan Formica counter was off to the right, and a few booths sat to their left.
“What can I get for you?” asked the lanky teen in the yellow- and black-striped shirt. His company-issued ball hat showed the Big C’s logo on a black background. He looked up from his register and did a double-take. “Hey, I know you.”
Mercedes and Cat exchanged a look. “You do?” asked Cat.
“Yeah. You guys moved into the old Callaway place by Aiden, right?”
Cat eyed him wearily. “Yes.”
“Cool.” The kid nodded like a David Ortiz bobblehead.
Did all boys’ heads come loose when they checked out a girl?
Cat cleared her throat. “I’ll take a number four with curly fries and a water.”
Mercedes kept her tired grin to herself. Cat would never drink soda; she’d eat a burger covered in cheese and fries cooked in grease, but she thought a carbonated drink would kill her. “I’ll have the same, but can you change my drink to a chocolate-marshmallow shake?”
“I’ll have to charge you extra.”
Mercedes sighed the sigh of a woman who was out of fight. “I’m fine with that.”
He gave them their total and then slid a plastic number across the counter. “We’ll call you when your food is up.”
“Thanks.” Mercedes snagged the number and they moved toward the only open table.
Cat laid her head on her folded arms. “I may never get up again.”
“I’m not gonna make you.” Mercedes rested her chin on her hand and shut her eyes. Just for a moment. Don’t fall asleep.
The empty clunk of a plastic tray landing on their table pulled Mercedes’s eyes open. She followed the beefy hand up an equally thick arm until her eyes landed on Sam’s concerned face.
“Where’s Chet?”
Mercedes didn’t have the energy to fight off sleep tonight, let alone Sam. “Um …” She couldn’t come up with a response.
“If he’s not coming, I think I’ll sit with you guys.”
Mercedes panicked.
Sam didn’t wait for an invitation to slide into the booth next to her.
Mercy scooted as close to the wall as she could get. Cat sat back and slouched in her seat.
“You two look like you’ve been horsewhipped and dragged behind a steer.”
“Thanks for the compliment.” Mercedes covered her yawn with her hand.
“This is your food.” He pushed the tray between the two girls. “Mick called your number a couple of times, but I think you were asleep.”
Mercedes and Cat divvied up the burgers. “I wish I was. Although, this smells really good.” She looked at Sam, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.
“Don’t wait on my account.” Sam gestured for them to dig in.
Cat shrugged and took a large bite. Mercedes’s mouth watered, and she figured if she was eating, Sam wouldn’t expect her to talk.
The burger was everything she’d hoped it would be. Snagging a few fries, Mercedes dunked them in her shake. Cat did the same and Mercy didn’t even protest sharing her ice cream.
Mick called another number, and Sam rose to get his food; then he plopped right back down next to Mercedes. Cat gave her a questioning look. Honestly, Mercedes didn’t care if she never got out of the booth; she could sleep right there. Besides, Sam wasn’t hitting on her or Cat. He was just there ... which was kind of strange. Not as intimidating as having him loom over her at the feed store but odd nonetheless.
Looking down, she realized the burger was gone. Besides the first bite, she hardly tasted it she’d been so hungry. Now she felt like an inflatable inner tube. She groaned and slouched in her seat.
Sam took a pull on his drink. “I gotta ask, what do you two do—besides remodel old houses? I mean, two beautiful women, such as yourselves, have got to have something else in your life.”
Mercy kicked Cat under the table. It was her turn to deal with Sam.
Cat used her napkin. “I have a teaching degree.”
“What grade?”
“Eighth-grade English.”
Sam nodded once, as if her answer made perfect sense.
“And she writes books,” chimed in Mercedes. She jerked her legs to the left, avoiding Cat’s kick. Maybe it was the big sister inside Mercedes, but she believed that if Cat was going to be an author, she needed to start acting like one. That included telling people about her writing.
“Nice.” Sam looked expectantly at Mercedes.
“I have a business degree.”
“And she paints.” Cat stuck her tongue out at Mercedes.
Mercedes sat up straight. Unlike Cat, she’d own it. “I do.” She lowered her eyebrows. “Although, I haven’t picked up a brush since we got here, except to paint the walls.”
“Well, you’ve been busy,” Sam excused her.
“No, it’s not that. I’ll stay up all night if that’s what it takes.” She ran her spoon around the inside of her cup, picking up the last bite of ice cream. “I haven’t felt driven.” She gave Cat a worried look. For years, she had to paint or sketch on a daily basis or she’d go nuts.
“How long has it been?” asked Cat.
“We’ve been here two weeks and it took about two weeks to pack up and make all the arrangements.”
“So a month?” Cat dropped her napkin on the tray.
“No, it was before that.” Mercedes rubbed her temple trying to remember the last time she’d put color to canvas. Her last piece was of the Boston Marathon. The marathon she’d gone to watch Jeremey run. All the sudden, it hit her. “Three months.”
Cat’s hand stilled. “If I ever see that two-timing son of a—” She glanced at Sam. “—gun again, I’m going to make him lose an octave.”
Mercedes burst out laughing. “Now there’s a moment worth painting.”
Sam shook his head but he had a smile on his face. “I’m sure there’s a story in there, but I’ve got to get going. I promised a neighbor I’d help him milk tonight, and I can’t keep the ladies waiting.” He stood and settled his straw hat on his head. “See ya later.”
The sisters watched him leave. “He’s an odd duck, wouldn’t you say?” asked Cat. “Sitting down like he was invited and then leaving like that.”
Mercedes shrugged. “Maybe he’s just lonely. You know, like those kids on the playground who don’t have any friends, but when you try to be nice to them, they don’t have the social skills to interact.”
Cat tapped her fi
nger on the table. “Maybe.”
“You ready to head back?” Mercedes gathered up their garbage.
“Ugh. I don’t know if I can make it home.”
“That shake must have been full of sugar, because I’m totally awake. I’ll drive.”
Once in the car, Cat leaned her seat back and closed her eyes. Mercedes’s thoughts turned back to her lack of painting. Part of the reason they were out here was so she could build a portfolio she could take home and present to different galleries. That wasn’t going to happen if she didn’t get started.
It wasn’t hard to pinpoint the reason her inspiration had dried up. Jeremey had stomped on her heart, and things like that took time to heal. However, if she was honest, she didn’t feel the pain anymore. Even the dull ache was gone. Not that she’d forgiven him: she just wasn’t there yet and if he came around, she’d be more than happy to let Cat have a go at him. But the cloud that had descended after their embarrassing breakup had lifted as soon as she’d decided to come to Snow Valley. She believed she was content, if not happy with her current situation.
So what was holding her up?
It was probably the seclusion. Back home, there were hundreds of people around to use as subjects. Here, it was just her and Cat. And the Bauer family. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.
In fact, the few times she’d felt the tug to sketch were at Chet’s house. Maybe her heart was trying to tell her something and she’d been fighting against it.
Chapter 11
The next Thursday, Chet was running late. He glanced at the clock on his dash again. Yep, late. After four days of pushing himself, he had a good handle on the ranch. The cattle were well-fed and happy, the crops were growing, and the horses were healthy. He had inspected the north field and found the hay coming in thick. It wasn’t particularly high, but the flowers were swelling and he guessed they’d burst in a week, maybe ten days, and then he could cut. It would take four to five days for it to dry out. Then he could rake it and bale it. He already had a buyer lined up, thanks to his dad’s contact list. With any luck, he’d make it through the summer.
He pushed his old truck as hard as he dared on the dirt road. He’d had to replace the struts a couple months ago and he needed them to last a while.
He slowed down to pull into Mercedes’s drive and was surprised to see Mercedes and Aiden standing inside a new frame for the front porch. The old porch was completely gone. There was a miter saw set up on a stand, with an orange extension cord wrapping around to the back of the house. Mercedes wore a pair of overalls that looked brand new over a tight fitting T-shirt that looked older than the house. Her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she had a carpenter’s pencil stuck behind her ear. For a moment, Chet just stared. He’d never seen a girl, let alone a woman of Mercedes’s caliber, build a deck before. Sure, his sisters helped with the irrigation, could drive tractors, and handled livestock, but they never wielded a nail gun. A shotgun? Sure. But, when it came to keeping the house in good repair, the chores fell to him and his brothers.
Mercedes checked the board to see if it was level, hooked the drill with her foot and tossed it up, grabbed it with her free hand, and used it to secure the brace.
Holy. Cow.
Chet cut the engine and climbed out.
“S’up?” Aiden gave him a quick lift of his chin before focusing on the screw he was trying to place while Mercedes braced the board.
“S’up?” Mercedes gave a pretty impressive impression of Aiden, followed by a big grin to let him know she was teasing. For a moment, she looked like she was happy to see him. Then her face clouded over and she focused on her project.
“Hey,” Chet called loud enough to be heard over the tool. He rubbed the back of his neck as he inspected the new frame.
Aiden finished and Mercedes dusted off her hands.
“Are those the original supports?” Chet pointed to the concrete footings poking up about six inches from the ground.
“Yeah,” said Aiden. “Mercedes checked ‘em and said they were still good, so we could use those and just replace the boards.”
Chet nodded in appreciation. “She was right. They’ve held up well.” He did a quick once-over of the frame and found that he was truly impressed.
Mercedes measured the corner and marked off a two-by-six, which she handed to Aiden. “Okay, cut this on the angles I showed you and we’ll put it here to reinforce this corner. Then we can start putting on the joists.”
Aiden moved around to the saw stand and worked to adjust it.
“Did you teach him that?” Chet asked.
Mercedes gathered up a few tools. “He’s a quick learner.”
Chet scanned the supplies. Besides the decking for the porch floor, there was a bag of joists, a couple boxes of different types of screws, a can of stain, and a bunch of brushes. He looked around but didn’t see her car. “How’d you get all this here?”
“I traded my sister and her car for your nephew and a truck.” Mercedes flipped her hand like it was no big deal.
“You did what?” With the saw going, Chet had a hard time hearing Mercedes.
“Whitney called this morning to say they wanted to pay for a new railing. I told her there was no way they were paying to replace something we were going to rip out anyway. She tried to insist, but I worked her down to trading me a truck and Aiden for the afternoon.” She pointed to Aiden, who was just finishing up at the saw. “He’s a good worker and we’ve had a great time. Cat’s helping Whitney make bread and clean out her root cellar.”
Chet wondered why Whitney hadn’t called to tell him the change of plans. It was obvious Mercedes didn’t need his help. She had the project well in hand. He was disappointed. “In that case, maybe I’ll just head home.”
With Chet’s help, they’d get the porch done in half the time. Mercedes was still tired from finishing the master bedroom, and though the guys at Home Depot loaded the lumber, she and Aiden had unloaded it.
Now that Chet was here, there was no way Mercedes wanted him to leave. Whitney had mentioned he might stop by around six. When the time had come and gone she figured he’d decided not to show. Her arms ached, and if Chet was offering help, she would gladly take it.
There was another reason she wanted him to stay. After her talk with Sam and Cat last night at Big C’s, she wondered if the Lord really did have a plan for her in Snow Valley. If she could paint, she could get back on track. The only times she’d felt the desire to do so had been when Chet was around. She wanted to test the waters and see if spending time with him encouraged her fleeting inspiration.
“Sorry, didn’t I mention you were part of the bargain?” she asked.
A smile tugged at Chet’s, lips but he held them in place. “I was?”
Mercedes’s pulse quickened. “Yep, and since you’re late, I’ll have to dock your pay.” She took the piece of wood from Aiden and fitted it into the corner.
“Well, shucks,” he drawled. His eyes danced, and she fumbled with the wood.
She closed her eyes. Of course, she hadn’t considered the fact that Chet may have an effect on more than her desire to paint. If that’s how she responded to him, she’d have to be careful with the saw when he was around.
Mercedes checked to make sure the piece of wood was level and then screwed it in place. “Go on, get to work.” She indicated the far frame. “I’ve marked a line for the joists’ hangers. You can show Aiden how to install the ones on that side; then we can fit the joists and install the hangers on the other side.”
Chet nodded. “Yes’m.”
He has got to stop being adorable.
Chet grabbed a handful of joist supports and hooked them in the loop on her overalls. He was close enough that she could smell the earth and fuel on his skin. It was a new scent to her, and she thought it would turn her mind to mush, it was so manly. That moment was worth all the teasing Cat had dished out when she’d put the overalls on this morning. They weren’t designer j
eans, but Chet didn’t seem to mind as he gave the loop a little tug and winked. If she hadn’t had one hand on a very sturdy porch frame, she would have wilted.
She listened as Chet explained to Aiden the importance of a joist hangar and how they needed to be installed right so the floor joists would be level. He was patient as Aiden’s first attempt was too low. They pulled the nails out and tried again.
In the meantime, Mercedes moved to place her marks on the opposite side. By the time Aiden got the hang of things, Mercedes was done. She leaned back against the frame to watch Chet work. He kept one eye on his hanger and one eye on Aiden. She enjoyed watching the two of them together. Aiden was serious about listening, and Chet was clear in his praise.
She caught herself sighing at the scene. What a painting the two of them would make, with their intense focus and matching coloring. She traced the lines of Chet’s body with her eye, contemplating which brushes she could use to create the right lighting effect. Maybe she should pull her paints out tonight.
Chet caught her watching and winked. His wink was not unlike his nephew’s—full of flirt. Where Aiden’s winks make her laugh, Chet’s made her cheeks burn. She ducked under the frame and hurried out to the wood they’d unloaded earlier. Unhooking the measuring tape from her back pocket, Mercedes measured the two-by-six. When she went to lift it, Chet was on the other end.
“I can see where Aiden gets his manners,” said Mercedes. “He wouldn’t let me lift a board on my own the whole time we were working.”
“Good.” Chet smiled. “You should tell his mom; it would make her day.”
“Ah, he’s a good kid.” Mercedes lined the board up on the saw and cut on her mark. Together, they carried the beam to the frame, and Chet ducked inside to move his end to the right hanger. Once they had it in place, Mercedes showed Aiden how to secure the loose end, and she and Chet went to fetch another beam.
They worked easily together, and Mercedes was surprised at how comfortable she felt with these two. Mercedes couldn’t help but wonder what they thought of a woman who could build a deck. Every once in a while Chet would look at her and shake his head. Maybe he thought she was strange—or unfeminine. Old insecurities reared. None of the men she’d dated appreciated her ability to fix a sink or install trim. More often than not, they discouraged her from even talking about it.
Lucy McConnell's Snow Valley Box Set Page 17
