“You really should let me clean that abrasion,” she called after him.
He slammed the back door by way of an answer.
***
The next morning, on her way home from the bakery with a batch of cinnamon rolls—lest her crewmen be disappointed—Sara decided to stop by Hattie’s place and say hi. When she arrived at the mobile home, the car wasn’t in the driveway.
By now, Sara was familiar enough with her aunt’s schedule to know she should be home sleeping after working the night shift. She glanced at her watch and wondered if she should be alarmed. Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, she decided to wait a few minutes before heading home.
Within a short time, she saw Hattie pull into the drive. Sara breathed a sigh of relief. Her aunt emerged from the car with a welcoming smile on her face.
Sara walked over and embraced her. “Where were you? I started to get worried when I didn’t see the car.”
“I stayed a bit late today. How is the remodeling going?”
Sara wondered why she had the feeling her aunt purposefully changed the subject. “It’s going fairly well. The electrician has apparently found problems more horrific than he first thought, and he’s boosting his price.”
“Well, I know how that goes. I found out it will cost more to repair my Corolla than it’s worth. I’d like to get another vehicle but have been so busy that I haven’t had the chance to—”
“Keep the Honda as long as you need, Hattie. But you really should come over and see how the remodel is going. It’s been a while since you’ve been there.”
Hattie retrieved her purse and shut the car door. “I’m sure I’ll be over soon.”
“How about after church on Sunday? You said you’d help me choose paint colors and patterns,” Sara pressed.
Her aunt went very still. “I know we often spend Sunday afternoons together but something’s come up this time.” She turned to her niece with an expression of appeal on her pleasant face. “You don’t mind, do you, dear?”
Sensing her aunt was keeping something from her, Sara’s mind worked busily. “Of course not. We’ll do it another time.”
“Yes, let’s plan on it. Well, are you coming in?”
“No, I know you need to get some sleep.” She bussed her on the cheek and watched thoughtfully as Hattie made her way into the house.
On her way home, she tried to figure out what Hattie might be concealing, but could think of nothing that might cause her to act so secretively.
As she pulled into the driveway of the farmhouse, she felt a little thrill at the thought of being with Brian again. She hadn’t seen him since yesterday afternoon and hoped his wounds weren’t enough to keep him from the job site.
Once in the house, she took the cinnamon rolls from the bakery box and placed them in the oven to warm them. This time she made sure her oven was on bake, not broil. The heady aroma wafted throughout the house when Todd, Peter, and Jeff arrived.
Brian came into the house as she handed out the rolls on paper plates to the appreciative crew. She politely offered him one while nudging the kitchen wastebasket behind her with her foot, hoping to hide the telltale bakery box sticking out of the top. Brian caught the movement and grinned when Todd exclaimed over the ‘homemade’ cinnamon rolls.
“Homemade, huh?”
“Fresh this morning,” she said, silently adding at the bakery.
Brian took a bite. “Wow, these taste just like the one’s from—ouch!” He rubbed his shin, glaring at her.
Sara gave him a limpid look and told the guys to save some for the subcontractors arriving later. After they filed out to begin work on the exterior of the house, Brian set his unfinished roll on the dining room table.
“You didn’t have to kick me so hard,” he said in an injured tone.
“Sorry.”
“I thought you were going to be nice to me from now on.”
Unwilling to address that issue, Sara instead noticed he had a fresh bandage on the cut on his head. “That looks much better today. How’s the abrasion doing?”
Brian glanced down at his chest and raised a brow. “Want to see it?”
“Uh, I’ll take your word for it.”
He took a step closer and judging from the look in his eyes, appeared about to say something of a warm nature. Sara swallowed and reflexively took a step back.
Suddenly Peter came into the room and without preamble launched into a technical problem needing Brian’s attention. She turned away as he left the room with his crew member, wondering why she felt so disappointed.
Chapter Sixteen
Now that the framing, rough plumbing, electrical, and insulation phases of the job were complete, the new kitchen really began to take shape. Sara felt excitement building within her as the renovations neared fruition. Brian placed all the orders for the new appliances and fixtures, and had his crew prepping the walls throughout the first floor to be primed for painting. After that, the fireplace would be repaired and the floors refinished.
Upstairs, work commenced to link the one bathroom with the largest bedroom and to add a tiny bathroom for the other two rooms using the hall closet space. The master bath would have a Jacuzzi tub installed and she planned to decorate both with ceramic tiles in Arts and Crafts motifs. Sara worked diligently getting the bedrooms ready to be repainted, and while she enjoyed working on decor ideas, she missed Hattie’s company.
She rested her chin in her hand and stared unseeing at an open book of wallpaper samples on the dining room table, wondering what to do about her aunt. Hattie continued to shy away from giving any explanations. She denied money problems, although she refused to admit what really kept her at work so much. While Hattie was entitled to her privacy, curiosity ate at Sara.
She looked at the stove clock and saw that it was after five. She heard the crew making ready to leave, and all at once, she didn’t want to sit at home alone with Brian so close, and yet so far away next door. Slamming the wallpaper sample book shut, she grabbed her purse and headed out the door.
Sara didn’t feel any better when she arrived at her aunt’s house. Once again the car was gone. Telling herself she needed to check some things on the computer, she let herself into the mobile home and looked around. While waiting for the computer to boot up, she noticed a stack of dirty dishes in the kitchen. Sara decided to make a closer inspection of the rest of the house for any kind of ‘evidence’.
She found a pile of dirty laundry and, on the dining room table, a stack of unopened mail. Feeling nosier by the minute, she went outside and took a look around.
Sara stopped dead in her tracks. Perfectly spaced rows of tomato plants wilted heavily against their wire cages. A bit of housekeeping laxness from the ultra-tidy Hattie could be excused from time to time. But finding her beloved prize tomatoes, tenderly planted from heirloom seeds, languishing under the current conditions of neglect worried her.
Sara turned the sprinkler on the garden and went back inside. She did the laundry and dishes and spiffed all through the house, hoping Hattie wasn’t ill. She decided to find out what was going on tomorrow when she saw her at church. No more run around. If Hattie needed help, nothing else mattered.
Feeling slightly better now that she resolved to take action, Sara returned home. In the house, instead of the quiet she expected, she heard movement from behind the plastic screen separating the kitchen from the dining room. Dropping her purse on the table, she walked over and peeked into the kitchen.
The sheetrock was up and pipes stuck out from the walls where the sink plumbing would go. Wires jutted from where sockets or fixtures would later be installed. The floor consisted of a layer of plywood, draped with a paint-spattered tarp. Sara saw Brian mixing white powder and water in a giant basin on top of the tarp.
“What’s that?”
Brian glanced up and she realized this was the first time they'd made eye contact all day.
He continued mixing and looked at her from under heavy lids. �
�It’s texturing mud for the sheetrock. You may have noticed all the sheetrock is installed.”
“Yes, I did and it looks great.”
“Well, this goes over the walls and ceiling to help camouflage the taped joints.”
Sara duly noted all the taped joints and nodded. “Why are you doing this now?”
“Because it needs time to cure before it gets painted. I’ll have heaters in here tonight to speed up the process. I’m already behind schedule so I’m trying to make up time.”
“Oh.” While Sara watched him work, she got the distinct impression he wasn’t too pleased with her presence. She came all the way into the kitchen.
“It looks gooey,” she said, pointing to the basin. “What does it feel like?”
Without looking up, he shrugged. “Like texturing mud.”
Sara bit her lip to keep from smiling. “Is it poisonous or harmful in any way?”
“Only if you try to eat it,” he said, speaking slowly as if humoring the mentally insane.
“Hmmm.”
Abruptly, Brian stopped mixing and left through the back door. Wondering if he planned on coming back or if he was too perturbed by her presence to continue, she went over to the basin and stuck a finger in the mud. It felt cold and slimy.
“What are you doing?”
Sara jumped at the sudden sound of Brian’s imperious tone. She stripped the mud from her fingers back into the basin and stepped back several paces. “Just curious.”
“Satisfied?”
She shrugged and leaned against the door frame.
Brian let loose an annoyed sigh and began to fill a red thing with mud.
“What’s that?”
“A hopper.”
She couldn’t resist a smile. “What’s it for? Hopping?”
Brian gave her a pained look. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Nope.”
He turned away from her but not before she saw him rolling his eyes. Sara decided he needed to be brought down a peg or two. She was his boss and deserved to be treated with more respect. Putting up with his moodiness for weeks on end was getting old. Plus he talked to girls that weren't her.
Sara tiptoed to the basin and scooped up a handful of mud. Before taking the time to consider her actions, she lobbed the mud at him, smacking him squarely in the back.
Brian spun around. Exhilaration filled her. She threw another handful, which, she noted with grim satisfaction, got him in the side of the head. Brian lunged for her.
Sara managed to hurl one more handful before he caught her by the arms. She smiled at the wild look in his eyes, which only seemed to rile him further.
He dragged her away from the basin and backed her up against the wall, pinning her hands by her sides.
“What was that all about?” he asked in a mild tone at odds with his ragged breathing.
“Um.”
“Well?”
Sara tried to slow her own breathing and not stare too obviously at his lips. “Would you believe that I have absolutely no excuse for what I did?”
He shook his head and released her. “Not good enough. You deserve to be punished.”
“It was just a silly prank,” she said lightly, noting all the white stuff in his hair.
“Okay, if not punishment, then a reward.”
“Reward for what?”
“For my heroism. You still owe me from when I rescued you in the upstairs bedroom.”
Sara looked up at him with wide eyes, silently telegraphing a message she didn't have the guts to verbalize.
Brian, not known for being slow on the uptake, drew her to himself and claimed her lips, subjecting her to a long and drugging kiss. Clutching a handful of his shirt to steady herself, she kissed him back with all the yearning of her heart.
Shimmering on the edges of her consciousness came the sound of the front door bell ringing. Sara wrapped her arms tightly around Brian’s neck, refusing to acknowledge anything else besides him.
“Hello, is anyone home?”
A sharp intake of breath finally got her attention.
Sara reluctantly freed her lips and in a daze, looked into the neon-red face of Brian’s employee, Todd, standing just inside the kitchen.
“I forgot my radio,” he bleated. Edging around them, he grabbed the handle of a nearby boom box, and rushed from the room. The only evidence of his presence was the banging of the front door.
Sara stiffened against Brian, suddenly anxious. The light from the bare bulb hanging above them seemed to burn with a harsh light. She swallowed hard, sure he’d make a flirtatious comment and drain the moment of all meaning. Before he extinguished her vulnerable emotions completely, she decided to take the offensive. “Hattie is letting her tomatoes die.”
Brian blinked several times and glanced down at her hands crushing the fabric of his shirt. He looked back at her. “Huh?”
Hastily smoothing his shirt before putting her hands at her sides, she took a deep breath. “I’m worried about Hattie.”
Releasing her, Brian backed away. He rubbed a hand over his face, leaving a few streaks of white behind. “Begin at the beginning.”
Sara watched him from under her lashes, noting the high color in his face. She wondered if that kiss shook him up as much as it did her. “I went to my aunt’s house today, and she wasn’t home when she should be and her garden has been neglected. She’s apparently been working more and more hours and won’t give me any real explanations why.”
“Maybe she needs the money.”
Sara shook her head. “I already asked her that.”
He sighed audibly. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know.” She bit her lip and as if pulled by an invisible force, stepped close to him. “You have texturing mud in your hair.”
“I wonder why,” he said dryly.
Sara reached up and tried to brush the drying mud from his hair. He stayed motionless while she worked, watching her steadily. She stood close enough to feel the warmth of his body. Her heart fluttered like a trapped bird. She secretly hoped he’d take her in his arms again, then wondered why she just couldn't say the words out loud.
Brian gently pulled her hands down. “Why are you doing this, Sara?”
Unable to meet his eyes, she stared down at their joined hands. Knowing he wasn’t referring to the cleaning of his hair, she wanted to admit her true feelings, but cowardice overruled passion. What if he was still a flirt? What if she was just convenient? What if he felt the same way about her?
He released her hands and tipped her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.
“Are...are you going to kiss me?” she asked in a strangled whisper.
Brian suddenly grinned. “I’d like to but I’m sure we’d somehow be interrupted.” He tilted his head back and yelled,“Is anybody hiding out there? Come on out where we can see you!”
Sara let out a shocked giggle and slapped a hand over her mouth.
His eyes glinted down at her. “Shall we test my theory?”
Sara experienced a twinge of disappointment. I was right, he’s just the same old flirt he always was. It only confirmed her decision to keep her true feelings hidden. But she couldn’t deny the desire for one last kiss.
Brian put his hands at her waist and bent his head.
The phone rang.
Straightening, he gave her a sheepish grin. “I hate being right.”
Sara grudgingly slipped past the plastic and went in the dining room to answer the phone. She felt a measure of relief to hear her aunt’s voice on the other end. “Hattie! Are you all right?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re hardly ever around anymore and your tomatoes are wilting.”
“That’s what I called about, dear. Thank you so much for watering them and for tidying up my house, although there was no need. I got a little behind, that’s all.”
With Brian only a few feet away, Sara decided this wasn’t the time
to grill her aunt. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”
“Everything’s fine, dear. I need to let you go now. Good night.”
She hung up before Sara could say she’d see her at church the following day. Surprised at the abruptness, she replaced the receiver in the cradle and went back into the kitchen. As if nothing had occurred between them, Brian resumed working, texturing the sheetrock, seemingly oblivious to her presence.
Sara firmed her lips and resolved to go straight to bed before she made more of a fool of herself than she already had.
***
The next morning Sara awoke with a blinding headache and a keen sense of regret over her forward behavior of the night before. What possessed her to act so boldly? The impetuousness of tossing around sheetrock mud paled in comparison to the way she practically begged for Brian’s kiss.
After a shower and dressing in her silk pewter blouse and black slacks, she went outside and found Brian lounging against the side of her truck. Sara’s first instinct was to turn around and go back into the house, but she forced herself to continue in his direction.
“Good morning,” she said, relieved at the steadiness of her voice.
“Good morning, Sara. I thought we could ride to church together.”
Oh, you did, did you? She gave a little shrug. “Sure.”
Brian motioned the way to his pickup.
“What’s wrong with taking mine?”
“I have a desire to go to church today, not to the nearest mechanic’s garage.”
“My Ford is not unreliable, just misunderstood.”
“You really ought to consider having some major repairs done before you get stranded somewhere.”
“Nonsense. You’re just trying to cover the fact that you’re unadventurous.”
Brian chuckled. “That’s one way of looking at it, I guess. Are you ready?”
Sara acquiesced and followed him to his pickup. The short ride to church seemed longer than usual as she wondered what Brian thought about her behavior from the previous evening.
Restorations (Book One Oregon In Love) Page 13
