by Joan Kilby
She stood back to watch Angus as he pushed the log into place. His broad shoulders strained the seams of a white T-shirt, and bronzed biceps flexed. Below his work shorts his thighs and calves were strong and well muscled, and a leather tool belt was slung low on his hips. What was it about a tool belt on a hot guy?
With the log in place, Angus looked up and saw her. “What do you think?”
“I’m thrilled to see the walls going up,” she said. “I didn’t expect to find you actually working, though. I thought you would be, I don’t know, directing.”
“Standing on an upturned milk crate like an orchestra conductor, waving my hammer like a baton?” he said grinning. “I’m keeping an eye on what everyone’s doing, don’t worry. But we don’t have enough men for me to sit back.”
“Is it really that bad?”
“Depends on whether you want it up by the festival or not.” He took off his hard hat and wiped a gloved hand across his damp forehead.
“The blossoms are going to be ready, so the hall needs to be, too.” She hoisted her bag of food. “I brought us a picnic. If you have time.”
He squinted at her sideways, his eyes half-closed against the sun. “For you, I always have time.”
They walked along the path to Finley Park. All the tables were taken but they found a bench beneath a maple with new leaves of spring green. Brianna set the bag between them and pulled out a submarine sandwich stuffed with roast beef, arugula, and tomatoes. She handed it to Angus.
“My favorite,” he murmured. “Thanks.” A lock of dark hair fell over his brow as he bit in voraciously and she had to resist the urge to brush it back.
She got out her own half sub of turkey and cheese, and while they ate, she told him about how some of the blossom photos people had sent in over the weekend looked like they were at stage three.
“I ride through the orchards on my cycling route,” he said. “Next time I go, do you want to come along so you can check on the blossoms in person? If you still have your bike, that is.”
“I haven’t ridden in a while, but I kept my bike. It’s in my garage.” When she was with Angus, the waves of nostalgia kept coming. After he’d left Sweetheart, she’d stopped cycling and had taken up jogging. She liked jogging but she missed bike riding. “Are you sure you have time?”
“We’d have to go early, before work.”
“No problem.” Doing things with him took her back to a happier time in her life. She felt as if she was unfurling from a long dark winter, like a new shoot reaching for the sun. Coming alive. At this moment she couldn’t for the life of her remember why she’d ever been mad at him.
“Have you got a pump?” he asked. “I can come over and help you oil it up and stuff.”
“No need. I can manage.” She didn’t want to get used to having him around, doing things with her, and for her. Then she put her wistful hankerings firmly out of her mind. She had bigger problems to solve than their star-crossed romance. “So, about the crew. Did you talk to my dad?”
“Not yet,” he said. “First I want to find out if Coates has guys available. I’m going to Polson to talk to him later this afternoon. Do you want to come?”
“I can’t,” Brianna said, packing up the rest of their lunch. “I’m babysitting for Sarah. She’s got a little boy, Jeffy, who’s eighteen months old.”
“I heard she’d been widowed,” Angus said. “What happened to her husband?”
“Len was a fire fighter,” Brianna said quietly. “He died during a wildfire trying to evacuate a hermit who refused to leave his shack.”
“I’m sorry,” Angus murmured. “That’s so sad.”
Brianna squeezed his hand. Angus had also grown up without a father from a very young age, and she knew things had been tough for him and his mom.
“I have dessert,” she said, changing the subject. She delved into the bag again, and brought out a bakery box, another old ritual of theirs.
“Are those bear claws?” he said as she passed him the box. “You know my weak spots.” He opened the box, and groaned. “Too bad I’m on a diet.”
“You are not! You don’t have an ounce of fat on you.” She couldn’t resist squeezing his hard bicep, as her gaze drifted over him in appreciation.
“If I do gain weight, it’ll be all your fault.” He reached for a pastry and took a big bite.
Brianna was entranced by the sun gleaming on his rich dark hair and his blissful expression at the taste of the sugary confection.
“You have to eat, too.” He pressed the bear claw to her lips. “Come on, open up.”
Brianna laughed, spluttering flakes of pastry everywhere. “Now look what you’ve done.”
“Made you laugh?” he said, grinning.
A bright bubble of happiness enveloped her. He did make her laugh. Since he’d been in town she’d laughed more in one week than in months.
A morsel of sugar clung to his bottom lip and she had a strong urge to lick it away. To taste him. To have his breath ruffle her hair. The sun beat down on their hands where they touched. If he were to kiss her now she wouldn’t have the will to say no.
Angus moved closer, his gaze holding hers, the bear claw forgotten. Brianna lifted her face.
A snuffling and panting noise broke the spell. A golden Lab, soaking wet from paddling in the lake, galloped up and planted his sopping paws on the bench between them, sniffing at the food.
With a shriek, Brianna leaped up, grabbing the bag.
Angus pushed him down. “Easy, buddy.”
“I’m so sorry!” A woman came running with the dog’s leash. “Atlas, come here you bad boy.” She clipped the leash to his collar and dragged the dog away. “I’m really sorry.”
“No harm done,” Angus said.
“It’s fine. He’s adorable.” Brianna smiled at the woman. As for no harm done, that was debatable. She and Angus had almost kissed. Whether that was good or bad, she couldn’t say but the mood was broken, and he was looking at his watch.
“I’d better get back to work, anyway.” Impulsively, he wrapped his arms around her in a brief, warm hug. “Thanks for lunch. I’ll let you know what I find out from Coates.”
Brianna watched him walk away, the construction worker-turned-architect who didn’t mind getting his hands dirty. He was going over and above to help her, her family, and their community. How could she have implied he lacked commitment to the town? With a shamefaced twist of her mouth, she realized she’d really meant a lack of commitment to her. Five years ago she hadn’t stopped to think how her enthusiastic encouragement for him to go away to college might appear to him. Less support for his career, and more, go away, I’m done with you.
She’d forgotten how special he was. And because he was so special maybe he was right and she needed to delve deeper into those painful emotions she was so good at avoiding.
Chapter Seven
That afternoon after knock-off, Angus drove to Polson to have a chat with John Coates. Gordon might not like it, but Brianna was counting on him to get the hall finished in time for the festival and he didn’t want to let her down.
Going to see Coates got him to thinking about the job in Sacramento. It was his dream job but the thought of leaving Sweetheart again was starting to weigh on him. He’d forgotten how much a part of the town he felt, how deeply its traditions and the people were embedded in his history, beliefs and attitudes. He’d deliberately made himself forget, so he wouldn’t feel the loss so deeply when he was away.
His long absence hadn’t diminished his feelings for Brianna. If anything, more life experience and a bit more wisdom had made him appreciate her even more. They still had great moments, like today at their picnic. For the first time, he’d sensed that given a chance, her feelings for him could blossom anew, and that their love could be even richer, deeper, and stronger than before.
John Coates ushered him into his lavish office with an effusive welcome. John’s tan was golden against his thick silver hair and a diamond gli
nted on his pinky ring. “I’m glad you called. I was going to email your employment contract for you to sign, but now that you’re here, you can do it in person.”
“Oh. Sure. Great.”
John buzzed his secretary and asked her to print out the document and bring it in to him. Hanging up, he turned back to Angus. “What can I do for you? The contract wasn’t why you came down here.”
“No, it’s not,” Angus replied. “I’m working on a small job for Sweetheart Log Homes as a favor to my old boss.”
“And your old girlfriend?” John winked. “That Brianna’s a looker, but quite a handful, am I right?”
“The hall I’m building has a tight deadline,” Angus said, ignoring John’s innuendo. “Blake’s got a big project that’s using most of their workforce. I need to subcontract three or four men experienced in log construction until the end of the month. Have you got people you can spare?”
John frowned and sat back, tapping his desk with manicured fingers. “Is this request coming from Gordon?”
“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Angus admitted. “I wanted to sound you out first.”
“I’d have to check with my foreman.” John picked up the phone again.
Angus rose, leaving him to his conversation, and wandered over to a wall of framed photographs. Among the pictures from years gone by, was one of a football team. Polson Broncos, 1976 State Champions. John Coates and Gordon Renton stood center front with their arms around each other’s padded shoulders, grinning at the camera. Well, what do you know? They hadn’t always been feuding.
Hearing Coates put the phone down, Angus turned and pointed to the photo. “You and Gordon played football together. Were you friends?”
“Best friends.” Far from smiling, the lines around Coates’s eyes and mouth tightened.
“That wasn’t high school, I take it,” Angus said. “I know Gordon came to Montana when he was in his early twenties.”
“The state had a community-based league with teams in different towns,” Coates said. “It’s since been disbanded.”
“You don’t see much of Gordon nowadays,” Angus said, a polite and roundabout way of fishing for information without mentioning a feud.
“We’re both busy men.” Coates shrugged it off. “He has a problem with me. Sour grapes, envy, maybe. I don’t know.”
Angus had gotten the impression it was the other way around, but he didn’t comment.
There was a knock and a young blonde in a tight sweater entered, carrying a sheaf of papers. “Here’s that contract you wanted, Mr Coates.”
“Thanks, Jen.” John watched her walk out before gesturing to Angus to resume his seat. “Sign where the flags are.”
Angus sat and drew it toward him. He leafed through the pages, scanning the legalese. The generous salary package almost had him reaching for a pen on the spot. Almost.
“The Sacramento gig is awesome, but you wouldn’t happen to have an opening in your Polson office, would you?” he asked. “Something I could do from Sweetheart?”
With a guffaw, John rocked back in his big padded swivel chair. “You’d rather stay in that Podunk town instead of going to California?”
“It’s my home, and this is a beautiful and thriving region.” Angus paused, and then pointed out the obvious. “You live here.”
“If I could do it all again, I would get out,” Coates said. “What’s the matter, not enough money?”
“The money is fine. I’ll have my attorney look it over and get back to you.” He placed the contract in his satchel. “What did your foreman say?”
“We could sub a few guys, but it would cost you.” Coates named a figure that was double the usual charge out rate.
“I’ll talk to Gordon,” Angus said, hiding his surprise. Was this how Coates treated his old friends?
“Have him call me directly.” John’s smile was oily. “I want to hear him ask.”
O-kay. That was definitely malicious. Angus rose and held out his hand. “Thanks for your time.”
Coates walked him out through the reception area, a hand clapped on his shoulder. “How is Brianna? I bet she wants you back now that you’ve got a degree and a high paying job.”
“Brianna has her own degree, and her own job,” Angus said stiffly. “She’s not mercenary like that.”
“Take my advice and don’t lose your heart,” Coates said. “Women are fickle, not to be trusted.”
“In my experience, women are very trustworthy. I’m sorry if your experience was different.” Angus struggled to contain his antipathy. Did he really want to work for this man? At least Coates lived in Polson and Angus wouldn’t have to deal with him on a daily basis.
He started to reach for the exit door when something occurred to him. “You grew up around here. Did you know Anita Renton, too, when you were young?”
A bitter expression flashed across Coates’s face for a fraction of a second and then vanished, replaced by a dismissive smile. “Anita Cummings, she was then. Nah, she wasn’t my type.”
Angus drove off, still thinking about the photograph of two young men in football uniforms, John’s uncalled for warning about women, and his strange reaction to the mention of Anita. From what Angus knew of Anita, she’d been a loving and loyal wife to Gordon for over thirty years of marriage. But maybe before that, she’d dated John Coates. What if John still carried a torch for her? That might account for his dislike of Gordon.
Angus sure hoped he didn’t end up like Coates, bitter and alone, and pining over Brianna. He’d always felt she was his soul mate. They laughed at the same things, enjoyed the same activities, had the same values of family and friendship. Yesterday at the park, he’d almost kissed her. And he would have, too, if not for that dumb dog. Well, cute dog, but wrong place, wrong time.
The feel of her arms around his neck, and his around her waist as they’d hugged goodbye, came back to him in a wave of well-being. He recalled her scent and how she felt so soft. A hug was almost as good as a kiss.
He smiled. A hug was definitely progress. Stage three.
*
“Aren’t you a big boy!” Brianna hoisted Jeffy onto her hip. He reached for her pendant necklace and she flipped it to the back of her neck. He gurgled, thinking that was funny, and tried to grab it again. “Stop, or the tickle monster will get you!”
She bent him over and started to tickle his armpits, sending the toddler into a wriggling mass of giggles.
“Jeffy’s drink and a snack are in the fridge. I won’t be more than a couple of hours.” Sarah rushed around her kitchen, strands of slippery dark brown hair falling out of her ponytail. “Where did I put my keys?”
“Is everything okay?” Brianna, noting Sarah’s panicky movements and her uncharacteristically messy house, frowned. “You seem distracted.”
“I’m meeting Daniel for coffee,” Sarah said. “Len’s brother. I haven’t seen him since the funeral.”
“It’s nice that you stay in contact,” Brianna said. “Don’t you want to take Jeffy, though? Daniel would probably like to see his nephew.”
Sarah gave Brianna an odd glance. “No.” Then she moved into the dining room to search the drawers in the china cabinet for the keys.
Brianna followed her. She’d never seen Sarah so scattered. “Doesn’t he like kids?”
“I guess he does, I don’t know. A-ha.” Sarah pounced on a set of keys next to a pot of purple cyclamens.
Brianna knew that Daniel was a professional football player but not much more. “Is he an okay person? Are you worried about meeting him?”
“No, not really, I guess.”
“No, he’s not a good person, or no, you’re not worried about meeting him?”
“He’s a big-shot ball player, attractive and entitled, yes, but not an ax murderer.” Sarah slipped her feet into flats and picked up her handbag. “Len and Daniel had a falling out around the time I got pregnant with Jeffy. A couple of days ago Daniel called out of the blue and asked to see me. He
wouldn’t say why.”
“If he makes you uneasy, you don’t have to go,” Brianna persisted. “Or I could come with you. I’d watch Jeffy while you and Daniel talk.”
“Thanks, but this is something I need to do alone.” Sarah kissed her son on top of his fluffy brown hair. Jeffy reached out his arms and clung to his mother’s neck. Sarah unwound his chubby hands and kissed him again. “Be good for Auntie Bri.”
“We’ll go for a walk in the stroller, okay, Jeffy?” Brianna said. “My parents live just down the road.”
“There’s a house key in the hall table. At least, I think there is.” Sarah checked, found it, and breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m not completely crazy.”
“Say bye-bye to Mommy.” Brianna waved the boy’s hand for him as Sarah ran down the steps and out to her car parked in the driveway.
Brianna waited until she’d driven off, then loaded Jeffy into the stroller, stuffed a bag with toys, and set off for her parents’ house.
The little boy babbled to himself as Brianna pushed him through the quiet residential streets. He made her chuckle, but he also gave her a pang of regret. She might not draw up five-year plans, or plot her life out in detail like Angus did, but she’d thought she would have been a mom by now.
She used to wonder what her and Angus’s children would look like. Would they have his dark coloring, or would they be blonde and curly-headed like her? A mental image of Angus holding a baby sharpened the ache in her heart. He would make such a great father.
Funny that Sarah didn’t want Daniel to see his nephew. If the two brothers had had a falling out then Jeffy would hardly know his uncle. With his daddy gone, it seemed a real shame not to have another close adult male relative in his life.
She came to the end of the street and hesitated. Her parents’ house was to the right, but Kylie’s boutique was only a few blocks down Finley Road to the left. Maybe she would take a quick peek in the window and see if the wedding dress had been sold yet.
