“I agree. But maybe we can patch the bad spot. Want me to have a look?”
Si stared at him. “You do roofing?”
Matt shrugged. “I own a construction company.”
Happiness brightened Si’s face. “Providence, right?”
Matt pulled into the drive, climbed out and met the other man’s gaze. “You didn’t know? Really?”
“Scout’s honor,” Si promised. “I was just out there, wondering what to do, praying and staring up while realizing I know nothing about constructing buildings…”
“But a fair piece about mending souls,” Matt cut in.
“As nice as that sounds,” Si replied, “it won’t keep us dry when spring blasts us with torrential rains.”
“True enough. You got a ladder, Si?”
“Back here.”
They set the ladder against the lowest part of the church roof. Matt started up, then paused, looking back. “Thank you for not picking a church with a towering cathedral. Right now small and country seems a whole lot friendlier.”
Hinted sadness darkened Si’s eyes, passing almost quick enough for Matt to doubt his eyesight. But not quite. “I couldn’t agree more.” He ascended the ladder behind Matt and hung there while Matt surveyed the roof.
“You’re frowning.”
“Yup.”
“In my experience, frowns equate expensive.”
“Yeah. But the good news is, I think I can patch it,” Matt told him. “Monday and Tuesday are both supposed to be clear. If I bring a couple of guys by, can we jump up here and get it done for you?”
“I’d be forever in your debt,” Si declared.
Matt smiled as he climbed down. “No, you won’t, but I wouldn’t mind some extra prayers if you’ve got a mind to. They’d come in handy these next few weeks.”
Si clamped a firm hand on his shoulder, his bright blue eyes meeting Matt’s. “Consider it done, my friend.”
Matt nodded, grateful, then pivoted to climb into the truck, only to stop dead.
Katie approached the two men, and there was no mistaking her look of surprise as she recognized Matt. “Matt, you’re back.”
He squirmed inside and out. “Katie.”
“You’re back and you haven’t called,” she corrected herself, her expression tart.
“I…um…”
“In nearly twenty years,” she went on, moving closer, her stride smooth even with the driveway’s upgrade. To see her move, he’d never suspect she was handicapped.
“You two know each other.” Si offered the interpretation as though heading off trouble, but he needn’t have bothered. The look on Katie’s face said “storm front coming.”
“I thought we did,” Katie told Si, her voice signaling otherwise. “But friends don’t desert each other when the chips are down. Friends don’t abandon one another when things go wrong. Friends—”
“I get it.” Matt faced her, feeling unprepared, but wasn’t this what he came back for? To have it out with each and every person he’d wronged? Obviously it was Katie’s turn.
“So that’s it? You stumble across me here, shrug your shoulders and move on?”
He wouldn’t do that. Couldn’t do that. If God provided this unexpected opportunity, there was obviously a reason. “I have to get back to work right now, but I’d like to talk to you. See you.”
Simon shifted beside him, as if wondering about Matt’s intent.
“How about tonight?” he continued. “We could meet at that little coffee shop.” He jutted his chin toward the café across the green, the artistic sign proclaiming great music, espresso and food beneath a bright yellow flower. “If you’re free, that is.”
She stared at him with little emotion, but her eyes…
Oh, those eyes said so much. Two decades of anger and disappointment deepened the pale gray to steel. But she nodded and took a broad step away from the truck. “Seven-thirty.”
“All right.” He turned back toward Simon. “And I’ll be sure to come by either Monday or Tuesday with the guys. We’ll get that patched up for you.”
Simon didn’t look quite as happy now, but Matt had enough on his plate. He climbed into the truck, eased it into reverse, and rolled down the driveway, carefully not looking left or right. He didn’t need to see Katie’s face to read the disappointment there, or Si’s to acknowledge the look of question.
He gave up the idea of stopping for coffee, his gut advising him to wait, and headed toward the outskirts of town and Dunnymeade Hill, wondering why he hadn’t taken the long way around in the first place.
He knew he had to talk to Katie. Apologize. Set things straight.
But he’d envisioned a more controlled approach. With considerable distance. A phone call, perhaps, or better yet, an email. That’s how he’d imagined his first contact with Katie, just enough to give them both time to think. Ponder. Pray.
As he headed into Cobbled Creek, lights in the model told him the Mareks were already at work. The realization calmed him. He’d get through today, then face tonight. Either way, it would be over and done before his head hit a pillow, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad.
But he’d find out soon enough.
“Morning, boss,” Callie called as Matt came through the side entrance of the model. His look appraised the work she’d gotten done. He whistled appreciation, the clean white primer pulling the kitchen’s look together.
“You got here early, Cal.”
She nodded, concentrating on cutting in along a cabinet’s edge. “Couldn’t sleep and I wanted this done before the countertop guys come on Monday. Then we can install the sink.” She ducked low to do the baseboard, then asked, “What’s your time frame on wallboard seaming?”
“Today.”
“Want a suggestion?” She looked up at him, unsure of his reaction.
“Maybe.”
Callie grinned. “Don’s the best seamer around when he’s sober and he’s been sober for nearly a year.”
He stared outside, then sighed. “I’ve already asked him. He’s on his way.”
“Really?”
He directed his gaze down to her.
“No argument, no convincing, no appealing to your sensibilities?”
“Yesterday did that.”
“Perfect.”
“Even when I’m not sure why I should feel guilty about anything concerning Don.”
“Wanna talk some more?”
He pulled hardware out of the box and headed toward the living room. “No.”
Okay, then.
He popped his head around a few seconds later. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be short with you. None of this is your fault, and—”
“It’s okay, Matt. Really.”
He looked relieved by her reaction. Sympathy rose from within, a whisper of the little boy lost showing in his eyes.
Gorgeous brown velvet eyes. Deep. Soulful.
“Besides, the walls have ears around here,” Matt added.
That was certainly true. “We could grab coffee later,” Callie mused.
His look of chagrin said he was busy. Worse, that she’d caught him out. “Another time might be better, huh?” Callie asked, her mind going back to the message from Reenie.
Her voice must have said more than her words because Matt poked his head around the corner again. “I’m not dating anyone, Cal. And if you’ve got something to ask, darlin’, just spit it out.” He flashed that smile again, the one that said he’d read her hesitation and countered it. “And just to straighten things out, Reenie is the gal who does doll-up for me. She sweeps, mops, wipes things down, makes sure everything’s pristine before buyers walk in the front door. She’s in her fifties, married and has four grandchildren. Although her macadamia brownies are a temptation.”
Callie sent him a scathing look, but he’d already ducked back to his side of the half wall. Just as well. She had work to do and conversation might pull her off-task.
“But I’d like to grab coffe
e with you,” he called back, sounding more serious this time, “Talk about things. But not tonight. I, um…”
“Have plans.” Callie filled in the blank without looking up.
“Yes.”
The guy was entitled to a life, right? And what business was it of hers what he did on a cold, wet Friday night? “Let me know when. As long as Jake’s taken care of, we’re good.”
“Thanks, Cal.” Relief colored his tone which meant he didn’t realize she was quietly stewing on the other side of the wall, a ridiculous fact because they both understood the boundaries they’d established.
Maybe she’d be better off returning to the diner. Working for Matt paid better, but dealing with these rising emotions put her at risk.
Why? Her conscience prodded. You’re here to do a job. You need money. And Matt’s okay with the parameters, except when he’s kissing you.
That kiss. That one sweet, gentle kiss, a glimpse of what could be.
“Mom! I’m here!”
Reality pushed her wandering thoughts aside. Jake was her certainty. Matt understood and respected that. He’d said so. And God had blessed her in so many ways already. Even now, with losing the subdivision, they’d gained a friend and good employer in Matt Cavanaugh. Bad had turned into good. Callie was smart enough to recognize that.
“Hey, bud, can you keep going on those cabinet doors for me?” Matt called.
“Sure, Matt! Is it okay if The General comes in?”
“Jake. Wet dog.” Callie scooted back and frowned. “Really?”
Matt’s cell phone rang, a straightforward sound, no fancy ring tones or songs. Callie liked that. He scanned the phone, frowned and headed to the garage, his look saying he wasn’t getting a signal in the house, and the garage was a quieter choice as Hank and Jim’s arrival added to the noise of doggie feet and Jake’s excitement.
Besides, a guy was entitled to a little privacy. Callie refocused her attention on the walls, ignoring pinpricks of jealousy. She had a life. So did he. End of story.
Matt picked up the call in the garage and sighed relief when Mary Kay Hammond’s voice came through loud and clear. “Mary Kay, good morning. You’re working today?”
The Realtor laughed. “Make money when you can, I say. And while this never happens on a major holiday weekend, I got a call this morning from someone interested in Cobbled Creek. They’re in town for the weekend, and they’re coming by my office later to look at plans. They’d like to stop by tomorrow and see the model.”
“They know it’s not done, right?”
“They don’t care. They’re moving here from downstate and Cobbled Creek reminded them of the Catskills. They’re enamored.”
Matt laughed. “Enamored is good. What time tomorrow?”
“Ten-thirty. We’re looking at a couple of existing homes as well, but these folks seem to prefer a new build.”
Matt understood the difference. Some people cherished the feel of old wood, past times. Others? Nothing but new would do. And those were the ones he hoped to court with Cobbled Creek. “See you then. And they know we can upgrade any way they want, right?”
Mary Kay laughed. “I’ve got it covered, Matt. You build. I’ll sell. And I won’t promise them anything you can’t deliver, okay? And we’ll adjust the pricing accordingly.”
“Excellent.” Mary Kay’s promise sounded light, but Matt had worked with salespeople who didn’t have a clue what upgrades meant to the contractor’s bottom line. Mary Kay? She got it, which is why she still had a business when others bellied-up with the housing downfall.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“We’ll be there.”
Matt headed back inside, whistling softly. Callie looked up at him and smiled. “You look happier.”
He shrugged, sheepish. “A prospective buyer coming tomorrow.”
“Really?” Callie grinned, no hint of envy or remorse shading her features. “Matt, that’s wonderful.”
“It sure is,” cut in Hank as he rounded the corner from the family room. “On a holiday weekend. And this time of year. I figured we wouldn’t see anybody until February.”
Matt had thought the same thing. He’d hoped for earlier, but knew it was unlikely.
“They interested in the model?” Hank asked.
Matt shook his head. “I don’t know.” He wanted to sneak a peek at Callie to see if that bothered her, but he’d already figured out that Callie was adept at painting on a game face as needed. “They’re exploring their options.”
“It would be wonderful to lock in a contract,” Callie said from the floor. She stretched to finish the last corner, and Matt thought how nice it was to have her there, keeping the bottom line in sight. Callie’s pragmatism about getting a job done kept things focused. Balanced.
“I’ll do a really good job on the doors,” Jake promised.
Matt rubbed Jake’s head as he went by. “Thanks, bud. Oh, and here’s Don,” he added as the aging car pulled into the drive. “He’s going to start seaming today.”
Hank slowed Matt’s progress with a hand to his arm. The older man didn’t say a word, but the approval in his eyes told Matt he’d done well.
But because flashes of the unresolved scene with Katie were fresh in his mind, Matt could only hope Hank was right.
Hank tipped his head toward the driveway. “This will be good for him. He’s having a rough go right now.”
“Due to?” Matt scrutinized Hank’s calm look, then thought back. Don’s pallor. His words. “He’s sick?”
“I can’t say more, but it’s treatable. Still, a hard road when you’re alone.”
“Cancer.”
Hank confirmed nothing, but Matt read his face. “Is he healthy enough to do this?”
“Best thing in the world for him. Purpose. Focus. He’s never been much of one for leaning on God no matter how much I yammer at him.”
Matt had no trouble envisioning that. “Thanks, Hank.”
Hank sent him a cautionary look as he moved toward the stairs. “Between us, okay?”
“I hear ya.”
Don pushed through the side entry and paused, inspecting what they’d done. “Nice.” He turned and saw Matt there, and the tentative smile punched another little hole into the hard core of Matt’s heart. “This is beautiful, Matt.”
“Thanks. Hank’s upstairs.” He jerked a thumb toward the stairway. “He can get you started.”
Don headed up, looking more confident with a box of tools in his hand. What had Hank said? Purpose. Focus.
Matt hadn’t realized what wonderful gifts they were, but seeing the quick difference in Don’s gait? His expression?
That combination made Matt glad he’d manned up and stopped by Don’s place. Now if only things went well with Katie.
But recalling the look on her face that morning, that didn’t fall into the realm of likely.
Chapter Eleven
“You goin’ out, Matt?” Jake asked as Matt descended the stairs that evening.
Matt shrugged into his jacket and nodded. “For a little while.”
“Oh.” The boy’s chin dropped.
“What’s up, bud?”
“Nothing.” Jake shook his head and Callie wasn’t sure whether to chastise him or kiss him for making Matt feel guilty. She’d decide that later. For right now she folded laundry while the dishwasher hummed and Jake gazed up at Matt with hero-worship eyes and a quivering jaw. “See ya.”
Matt hesitated, torn.
Callie caved. “Jake, Matt spends lots of time with you. It’s not nice to make him feel guilty for going out.”
“Sorry, Matt.”
Matt stooped low. “I’ll be here tomorrow, bud. And we can wage war along the Pacific Rim if you want.”
“I have to go to a birthday party tomorrow.” Jake droned the words as if attendance was a fate worse than death.
Matt moved back, surprised. “Birthday parties rock. Ice cream. Cake. Games.”
“For a girl.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Jake looked up, woebegone. “Mom said I have to go.”
“Well…” Matt wavered, then nodded. “We’ve got to be polite.”
“To girls?”
“Especially to girls.”
“Jake, we’ve had this discussion,” Callie cut in. “You’re going, you will be polite, and Matt’s going to be late for whatever it is he’s doing tonight.” And looking wonderful, Callie added silently, but then, this was Matt. He looked great no matter what, but tonight he was freshly shaved and had on a classy black leather bomber jacket.
Gorgeous.
“Be good tonight, okay?” Matt ruffled Jake’s hair as he stood.
“I will.”
“Good.” He shifted his attention to Callie. “I don’t know how long I’ll be…”
“Grown-ups don’t have curfews,” Callie assured him, hoping her smile wasn’t stretched too tight. “You have a life, Matt. It’s okay to lead it.”
He faced her across the table, his hands fisted.
She couldn’t decipher the tense look in his eyes, or read the clench of his jaw, but instinct told her he might need help. She moved around the table slowly, holding his gaze, needing to reassure him. She stopped just short of him and reached up a hand to cup his cheek, his jaw. “If God is with us, who can be against us?”
His eyes softened. He leaned his cheek into her hand, just enough to send a message of gratitude, the feel of his skin warm beneath her palm. He smelled of pricey aftershave and clean leather, and when he smiled at her it was all she could do not to melt.
“Thanks, Cal.”
“See ya.”
He nodded, sent her mouth a look that said he wished they were alone, then moved toward the door.
He wasn’t whistling. And she recognized the haunted look in his eyes, the stolid set of his face. She went to the door and gazed out, Matt’s taillights growing smaller as he headed toward town. “God, bless him. Whatever this is, keep him safe. Sound. Peaceful. Help him bridge this gap, dear Lord. He’s such a good, gentle man.”
“Mom, can we start decorating inside tonight?”
Callie sighed and shook her head. “No, kid. I’m beat. But tomorrow, yes. However,” she added, seeing his look of disappointment, “we can get the stuff out tonight and then we’re ready for tomorrow. We can probably get a bunch of things done before the birthday party.”
Yuletide Hearts Page 13
