Redeeming Her Montana Love

by Vella Munn

  Some wore T-shirts. None fit as well as Nate’s did over his muscled torso.

  Keeping her gaze and mind off his body was going to be impossible.

  “It’s choppy out there.” Nate indicated the lake then fastened his gaze on her. She felt the contact through her. “Fortunately, big as this boat is, crossing wasn’t a problem.”

  “At least there are no white caps,” she replied. If he wanted to talk about boating conditions, that was what she’d do. The alternative was to ask if there was a woman in his life and see where that took them, something she had no intention of doing.

  Yet.

  “You’ve been busy.” He tossed her the tie rope and nodded in what she took to be approval when she caught it. “You didn’t limb that tree all by yourself did you?”

  “Doc helped.” She secured the boat to a half-grown tree near the bank, snugging it tight so he could easily jump onshore.

  “Doc?”

  “Peter. I call him Doc,” she said. “He was a dentist for a long time. Then between the arthritis in his hands, wanting to make his life simpler, and having put aside money all his life, he retired. He was always good to my mother and recently I was able to do a favor for his family, so he’s determined to repay me.”

  Nate waved her aside. “I’m going to throw out my equipment. I don’t want to hit you.”

  Watching him toss a loop of flexible black pipe onto the bank, she laughed. “Have you ever had to do this in order to have what you need for a job?”

  He picked up a tool bag, swung it back and forth, and sent it toward the bank near the pipe. It thudded as it landed. “Can’t say as I have. Makes things interesting.”

  She didn’t say anything, just watched as the strong, healthy male clutched a large cardboard box to his chest and jumped onshore. Having him this close felt good—and nerve-wracking.

  “I think I have everything I need.” He indicated a cooler still in the boat. “Including a few beers for when I’m done.”

  She liked that he felt comfortable enough around her to have brought beer. She had wine in the refrigerator so might join him.

  “Where are you living?” she asked Nate as she picked up the lighter of the two bags. “Are the old trailers for employees still around?”

  “Yes. Fortunately, the word is that the owner is going to have them replaced this year.”

  “It’s about time. I need to spend more time at the resort and get a better idea of what’s being done.”

  “You haven’t checked it out? Being in the real estate business I thought you might have.”

  “My to-do list is crazy-long which is why I’m interested in changing things. What do you think of the Lake Serene project?”

  “It’s impressive.” Nate hoisted the other bag. “At least it’s going to be. Right now things are chaotic. Half-finished projects everywhere. I’m living in one of the housekeeping cabins because there aren’t enough trailers for all the staff. I’m not sure where they’ll put me once more than fishermen show up at the resort, maybe a tent.”

  “You aren’t being serious are you?”

  “I can think of worse places to live.”

  Because he’d been in them? The question made her admit how little she knew about him. “Summer would be all right for living outdoors,” she said. “Even late spring and early fall. Come winter, the snow would probably destroy a tent.”

  He nodded and started toward the cabin. “I’ve been in a couple of storms here. Mother Nature doesn’t mess around.”

  “No, she doesn’t. That’s part of what I’m going to miss if I sell.”

  “You can always visit. Montana has a great deal to offer in the way of outdoor experiences. If that’s what you’re interested in, you could spend the rest of your life not feeling the need to go over the state lines.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Walking beside him, she wondered how she’d react if he suggested they explore the Rockies together. As crazy as it was, the idea intrigued her.

  Nate dropped his burden on the front stoop and reached for the bag she was carrying. He opened it and pulled out a pair of coveralls.

  “You don’t waste time.”

  “Never have.” He shook out the coveralls and slid a boot into the wide pant leg.

  “That sounds like me.” She gave a nervous laugh. Lame. She usually did well in social situations. However, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d watched a tall, strong man put on work clothes so he could crawl under her cabin. “What can I do to help?”

  “If cursing bothers you, you’re going to be shocked.”

  She chuckled. “Believe me, there’s a lot in my line of work. We just do it in suits or heels.”

  He glanced at her tennis shoes. “I’ll never understand why women torture themselves wearing the stupid things. At the same time, I like how they make a woman’s legs look.”

  “A lot of men do.” Was he flirting with her? She wouldn’t turn and run but what had brought him here today defined a lot about their relationship which was employer and employee, at least until the job was done. “Don’t feel you have to censor what comes out of your mouth,” she said in an attempt to get the conversation back on track.

  “I won’t then.” His smile did fascinating things to her stomach. “That’s one of the first things the man I apprenticed under told me, that letting go with the occasional f-bomb will help me deal with the frustrations that go with the job.”

  “I’m pretty sure you already knew how to cuss.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  Just like that the light left his eyes. There was a serious note behind his comment, a reluctant admission that reminded her of what he’d said about having lived in less than desirable places. There was much more to him than plumbing skills and a firm rear end. The same was true of her, but she was familiar with her hang-ups and emotional baggage. Being confronted with someone else’s baggage called for some tiptoeing until he trusted her enough to open up, if he ever did.

  That worked both ways.

  “I’m going to start by going under so I’ll have a clear idea of what I’m dealing with.” He put on a head lamp.

  “It’s bug central under there.”

  “I’m used to them.”

  Of course he was. She was crazy to think she could protect him from his job’s realities. He pulled aside the board that covered the opening in the foundation and dropped to his knees. He sucked in a deep breath and his hands became fists.

  His reaction was so extreme it made her cry out, “Wait! You don’t have to do this.” She barely resisted grabbing hold of his shoulders and pulling him away from what she was certain he didn’t want to do. This speed-loving and competent man was obviously claustrophobic.

  “This is hardly the first time I’ve gone into the dark. Just takes…” Instead of finishing, he lowered himself onto his belly and worked his shoulders through the space. She stood to the right of his legs, leaning over, hoping to see more. If she knelt near him, she’d be in his way but maybe her presence would help him deal with his fear. Maybe she could get him to admit what he was experiencing.

  “Yeah.” His voice was muffled. “That’s pretty much what I expected.”

  Instead of telling her what he was looking at, he wiggled all the way into the scant space until she could no longer see him. Admiration for his determination to push himself had her wishing she knew how to tell him. Just minutes ago he’d been in the middle of a lake surrounded by open space. Now he was trapped. She was the only thing between him and total isolation.

  “Okay,” he said. “Okay. Man, that’s going to be tight.”

  Please don’t push yourself. I’ll get someone else.

  He started scooting back. When his torso was out from under the cabin, he kneeled straight up. His coveralls were muddy. His chest rose and fell several times. Bruce, who’d shown little interest in Nate until now, pressed against his side. At first Nate didn’t respond. Then he looped an arm around the dog�
�s neck. The connection between man and animal couldn’t be more intimate.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Fine.” He breathed again. “I’ve seen worse. Been through worse.” Still holding onto Bruce, he shook his head. “It’s going to take a while.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Short of going under there that is.

  “Later, when it’s time to do some testing.” He rubbed Bruce between the ears. “Now I need you to stay out of the way. Unfortunately that means you too, big boy.”

  Even though she understood it, she was a little stung by his dismissal. Bruce, who wasn’t known for his long attention span, licked Nate’s cheek then headed back to the sunny spot he’d been resting in. Bruce turned in a circle, settled himself, placed his head on his front legs, and stared at Nate.

  She watched while Nate positioned first his tools and then himself under the cabin. Like the first time, he was reluctant to crawl into the confined space. When she could no longer see him, she got down on her hands and knees and peered in. Several inches of water were on top of the dirt around the rusty looking water pipe. Less than three feet of space existed between the foundation’s underside and the ground. Vertical support beams placed throughout forced Nate to move snakelike around them. The pipe was strapped to the cabin so it wouldn’t touch the dirt. Suspended the way it was, further compromised Nate’s ability to get around. Without the headlamp, he’d be in darkness.

  What was he thinking? Did he let anyone know what he was going through?

  Knowing she wouldn’t ask if he was proving something to himself, she stood. He needed to concentrate on his task, not battle fear but that might not be possible.

  I’m here. Hopefully my presence helps.

  She didn’t know what to do with herself, just that she would stay close. Downtime had always driven her crazy. Fortunately, a glance at the closest cabin wall provided her with a task. As she started scraping the flaking paint, she recalled the last time she’d done this. She’d been in the eighth grade. Drugs had alleviated some of her mother’s depression and Alisha had reluctantly given in to her father’s insistence that she spend the summer here with her mother. He’d come up a few weekends but, for the most part, it had just been her mother and her. Despite the isolation when she’d rather be with her friends, in retrospect, she was glad she had her memories. Mother and daughter had prepped and hand painted the entire cabin. They’d teased and challenged each other, followed by arguing over who deserved the first shower the most.

  And laughed. Maybe more laughter than any other time in her mother’s life.

  Well versed in sidestepping those emotional landmines, Alisha put down the scraper and checked the campfire. The branches she’d put on it before Nate arrived had burned, leaving only coals. After raking the debris to the center, she selected several large limbs and placed them on top of the coals. More than once her mother and she had sat out here at night, looking at the stars while sipping hot chocolate.

  Memories. So many of them.

  Between keeping the slash fire going and paint scraping, she killed what she figured were a couple of hours. Nate had spent most of the time under the cabin. Even when he was working on the outside pipe that had first alerted her to trouble, he said little about his progress. When she asked how things were going he said, “Coming along.” It was almost as if he’d forgotten she was here.

  She didn’t want that.

  Rusted metal pipe sections emerged from the crawl space and sleek flexible black piping disappeared into the dark. She heard sawing sounds and several grunts. Every time she saw him, sweat was sticking to his forehead and throat and his hands were filthy. Mud covered the front of his coveralls. He’d scraped several knuckles, making her hope the cabin’s first aid kit was intact. Maybe he wouldn’t want her to do it, but she’d offer to tend to his scrapes. Touch his skin.

  “Take a look,” he said when she came back from the fire pit for the umpteenth time.

  He was standing near where she’d despaired about split pipe yesterday. The nasty looking metal line was gone and in its place lay a length of new heavy-duty plastic. It looked lovely, amazing in fact.

  “That’s it for now,” he said. “I still need to bury the pipe running from the cabin to the pump a foot underground, but at least the work under the cabin is done.”

  She fought the impulse to hug him. “That’s wonderful. Is it beer time? I got the cooler off the boat and placed your cans in the refrigerator.”

  He looked both tired and pleased, a man who has accomplished what he set out to do—a man who hadn’t let his demons beat him. “In a minute. First I want you to turn on all the inside faucets while I keep an eye on my handiwork. Turn them off if I holler.”

  Suddenly nervous, she nodded and went inside. When he called out, “Now,” she did as he’d instructed. After a few seconds, cold clear water started splashing in the kitchen sink and so far he wasn’t yelling. She hurried into the bathroom where the same miracle was being played out. The shower head spluttered and coughed then got with the program.

  She stepped outside. Nate was back under the cabin with just his boots showing. “Fine in here,” she said loudly.

  When he didn’t reply, she waited, hoping for more than silence from him. The seconds ticked by. All she heard were distant duck sounds and Bruce’s not-so-gentle snores. Nate’s feet became legs and then his butt and finally his back emerged from the cave. He looked wonderful, every masculine inch of him. He knelt and stared up at her. Grinned a belly-warming grin that made her want to jump into his arms.

  “Not a drop,” he announced.

  “Fantastic.” Emotion welled up inside, and for a moment she was afraid she was going to cry but she hadn’t let that happen for years. “You have no idea how grateful I am.”

  “And I’m glad I don’t have to go back under there.”

  She didn’t hurry her response, let his words sink in. “I’m guessing you don’t tell many people.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  Like she’d suspected, she’d touched a nerve, but if she didn’t ask certain questions, she’d never truly know him, and she wanted to. Maybe needed to.

  “I don’t reveal any doubts I might have to those I work with. Expressing confidence goes a long way toward getting people to believe in me. I’m in a predominately male field so I have to be as tough as they are.”

  “You don’t look tough.”

  Warmth sped through her veins. So he’d been taking his measure of her. “No, I don’t suppose I do, but what matters is what comes out of my mouth, my actions.”

  “Is it always like that? You keep your softer side under wraps?”

  Wishing she could ask how he suspected or sensed she had a softer side, she nodded. “Public persona’s important for most people. Have you always been claustrophobic?”

  Instead of answering the question she had no right asking, he started unzipping his coveralls. She couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if he was naked underneath. Fortunately, he couldn’t read her mind.

  “I brought along a beef pot pie so I wouldn’t have to do much cooking,” she said. “The oven’s already warm. All I have to do is put it in. I was going to throw a salad together. If you aren’t doing anything this evening, I’d like to share it with you. Unless there’s someone waiting for you at your place?”

  His fingers stilled. “There’s no one.”

  I’m glad.

  “Homemade?”

  “Yes. That makes a difference?”

  He shook his head. “What about you?” he asked. “A significant other?”

  “No.”

  There it was, a change in their relationship, an end to what she needed from a tradesperson and what Nate could accomplish. The future between them was an unknown and something she wanted to explore.

  He wouldn’t have asked if there was a man in her life if he hadn’t been thinking the same thing, would he?

  Chapter Five
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  NATE AND SHE sat on separate logs she’d placed around the fire pit several years ago, her with a plastic glass of wine and him working on his second beer. After removing his coveralls, he’d cleaned his hands in the bathroom sink. When she offered to put something on his scraped knuckles, he’d looked at her as if he’d never heard anything so strange. Damage to body parts, particularly hands, was an expected part of the job, he’d told her.

  She’d wanted to ask why he’d become a plumber but maybe after a long day spent plying his trade, he was ready to think about anything else. She knew how that felt. Taking a real estate concept from blueprints to finished product was how she paid the bills. It didn’t define who she was as a human being.

  The pot pie was in the oven and because she’d made a salad while he was cleaning up, she wouldn’t have to go into the kitchen for at least a half hour. It was definitely getting cooler, but between a jacket and the campfire, the wine and sitting across from Nate, she was content.

  Well, not content so much as aware.

  Doc had come by as Nate was opening his first beer, and Nate had given Doc more details about what he’d done than he’d given her. Another time she would have set Nate straight by explaining that the family business called for frequent interactions with people in the building trade, but the wine had mellowed her. That and the way the lowering sun kept changing Mount Lynx’s colors. She’d probably taken a thousand pictures of that peak because it never looked the same two minutes in a row.

  “You ever climb it?” Nate asked.

  “Not all the way to the top. I’ve wanted to but…”

  “But what?”

  Drifting smoke and well-controlled flames were between Nate and her. With Bruce sleeping at her feet and Doc back at his place and an almost nonexistent wind toying with the evergreens, she felt insulated and isolated from the rest of the world. Funny how what had struck her as a lonely place last night no longer felt that way. She also suspected keeping Nate out of her thoughts wouldn’t be any easier tonight. The way his body silently spoke to hers, well, no way was sleeping more interesting.