“Just ask.”
“Will you help me?”
“I can be there in about fifteen minutes. While you’re waiting, do the measurements, and run a chalk line to the stakes. And one more thing,” he warned. “Double-check the slab in the other stalls—it would be a good idea to match it.”
“Thanks, Pop,” she said. “I owe you.”
“That’s all right,” he told her. “I know where you live.”
An hour later, she was breaking open the bag of concrete with a hoe and removing the paper. Her father manned the hose and added water while they both watched the consistency.
“Nice and slow,” he warned as she folded the water into the mix, watching to make sure it wasn’t dry and crumbly or too wet. “Good. I think you’ve done it.”
“I know how to mix concrete, Pop.”
“I know, but Meg was the one who spent more time learning how to mix up a batch than you.”
She grinned. “I learn things faster than Meg,” she said, flexing her elbows as she picked up the wheelbarrow and rolled it up the makeshift ramp her dad had put together after they’d built the form for the slab.
“Is it too heavy?”
“No,” she said. “I’ve got it.” Shifting the wheelbarrow left and right to empty all of the mix into the form, she backed it up.
“Now,” he said, nodding at the pile, “smooth it out—”
“I know—into an even layer while you get the next bag going,” she called out over her shoulder.
Her father chuckled and did just that.
By the time they’d repeated the process enough times to complete the job, she was ready for a break. “I’m beat.”
“It’s tough work but looks great.” He beamed. “I brought some plastic to lay overtop of the forms so nothing gets into the cement before it dries. Are you going to break for lunch?” he asked. “It’s after one o’clock.”
“Oh no! I have to let Jamie out.”
“OK,” her father said, looking at his watch. “Why don’t you meet me at the shop after you take care of Jamie. I’ll have a sandwich waiting for you.”
She leaned up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “You’re the best.”
He chuckled. “It’s my cross to bear.”
She was laughing as she turned around and drove to Jack’s house to check on Jamie. The mournful howling had her heart breaking for the little dog. He must have heard her footsteps on the deck because he was jumping up, looking out the back door window.
“Hey there, Jameson,” she called out as she let herself in the back door.
He didn’t make a sound as he launched himself at her. She braced for impact, rubbed his sides until he stopped trying to climb into her arms, then got down on his level. “You’ve got some bad habits we’ll have to work on, dog.”
But Jamie wasn’t listening as he bathed her face with kisses. When he settled down and sat on her lap, she pulled him close and rested her face on his soft puppy fur. “You’re such a lover. I wish Gracie wasn’t allergic to dogs. You’d love it at our house. We’ve got the field in the back and the barn and…” No use thinking about what can’t be. “Maybe Jack can drive you on over to run in the field with us, or maybe if I ask Peggy nicely, she’ll ask her dad if you can visit the McCormack farm—as long as you promise not to chase their chickens.”
Speaking of Jack, Cait wondered if she should just come out and say how she felt. She sensed that he returned part of what she was feeling—the heat was there in his eyes—and she was pretty sure he was beyond interested in the kissing stage.
She was getting hot and bothered just thinking about the last time he’d pulled her into his arms.
As if aware of her inner turmoil, Jamie sat quietly while she talked to him and stroked his head and back. “Mr. Johnson’s riding clinic for kids with disabilities is going to be great.” Jamie seemed to be listening. “Pop’s helping me add on a couple of horse stalls. It feels good to be a part of something important like this.”
Jamie started to squirm, so she let him go outside and do his doggy business. With that done, she gave him fresh water and some kibble to eat. “You’re a good dog,” she told him before asking, “How’s Jack today?”
At the sound of his temporary master’s name, he barked joyfully. “I know,” she confided, pressing her lips to the top of the puppy’s head. “I feel the same way about him. I’m busy tonight and can’t have dinner with you guys, but maybe tomorrow.”
She settled Jamie in his bed and reminded him to be a good boy until Jack got home. His eyes were sad, but he didn’t follow her to the door. He was smart and knew the routine, that Jack would be back in a couple of hours.
Texting Jack to let him know that Jamie was all right and reminding him that she would be working late over at Johnson’s, she got back in her car and drove to town.
She was starving by the time she pulled around the back of Mulcahys, and she was pleased to see her father gathering supplies in the back of the shop. “Hi, Pop!”
Her father looked up and grinned. “My favorite carpenter.”
“You’re only saying that because you’ll be working with me on the Johnson project.”
“I saw the bookshelves you built for Meg and Dan, and the curio cabinet you built for Miss Trudi’s birthday. She’s going to love it.” He paused and told her, “You’ve a gift, Caitlin.”
She cleared her throat. “Thanks.” She hadn’t expected him to say something like that, although he usually told them if he thought they did a good job with something. This was different—this was her dream. “It means a lot that you think so.”
He grinned and held out a sub sandwich.
“You are the seriously the best! I’m starved.”
While she ate, they talked about the Johnson job and the order in which they’d be doing the construction. When they’d gone over everything, he asked, “So, does the lumberyard have our order ready for pick up?”
“Yes, but that’s the problem,” she said, finishing up the sub. “I’m still driving the car and don’t have a lot of room.”
“I guess you didn’t look out front,” he told her.
“No. I came around back. Why?”
“Follow me.”
When they walked through the shop, Gracie looked up from her terminal, but from the glazed look in her eyes, she was either setting up tomorrow’s schedule or doing their quarterly reports for taxes.
Cait knew better than to interrupt now; she could talk to her sister later.
When her father opened the front door and held it, she stepped past him and felt her mouth drop open. “It’s finished?” She walked over to the F1, examining the passenger door up close. “It’s great…you can’t tell that it was scratched or anything.”
“Bob does good work.”
Her eyes filled as she spun around to face him. “I’m so sorry—”
“I know you are.” He took her hand and turned it so her palm was facing up, placed the keys in her hand, and gently closed her fingers around them. “Take care of our legacy.”
Clearing her throat, she promised, “I won’t let you down again.”
“That’s my girl. Let’s tell Grace where we’re headed.”
The lumberyard was busy, but Joe and Cait had been there countless times before, and knew their way around. They pulled up in front of one of the buildings in the back and were greeted by one of the owners. “Glad you two are still speaking to one another,” he said, eyeing the gleaming black F1. “Bob Stewart does good work.”
Cait silently cursed and waited until they’d loaded up the truck bed and paid for the lumber before saying anything. “Did you have to tell him about the truck?”
Joe stared out the front window as she drove. “Didn’t have to.”
“But this isn’t Apple Grove.”
“Close eno
ugh that news travels fast—good and bad.”
“Maybe I get why Grace doesn’t want to stay in town. Everybody knows everyone else’s business and talks about it over coffee at the diner…or at the lumberyard a few towns over.”
Her dad frowned. “She’s been wanting to go back to the city ever since she graduated. I keep expecting her to tell me she’s leaving any day now.”
“I know, but I haven’t given up hope that she’d change her mind.”
Her father sighed. “Mulcahys is my life, but that doesn’t mean it has to be Meg’s, or yours, or Grace’s.”
“But when you retired—”
“None of you were engaged or married, so I didn’t have to hire outside the family. I hoped it would always be that way, Mulcahys working for Mulcahys, but that’s my dream, and I am a realist.”
He fell silent for the next few miles.
She didn’t mind riding without talking because that meant that her dad would be working out a problem in his mind, but the sudden thought that she and Grace might be the problem unnerved her enough to break the silence.
“So, are you and Mary going to get married soon?”
His head whipped around so fast she wondered that he didn’t get whiplash. “What makes you ask?”
“Just something about the way the two of you were communicating without words.”
“When?”
“The other day at the market…when you turned the sign around and kissed her.”
“You saw that?” He sounded resigned.
“Yep, thought about taking a pic and sending it to Rhonda, but then realized that you might not like being front page center news in the Gazette.”
Her father was mumbling beneath his breath as they pulled into Johnson’s driveway. “You and your sister see too much.”
“Pop,” Cait said as she parked the truck. “For what it’s worth, we all like her and want you to be happy.”
“You and your sisters have been the light of my life for so long.” He shook his head as he got out of the truck. “I wasn’t thinking about dating when Mary and I met for the first cup of coffee at the diner, but now…”
Cait got out and worked with her father unloading the truck bed. “She’s kind, has a nice smile, and must have some other redeeming qualities, or you wouldn’t be stuck on her.”
His head reared up and his eyes flashed a split-second warning that his temper was on the rise. “Who said anything about being stuck?” he grumbled. “I’m not stuck.”
Cait heard the panic in his voice and felt they had something more in common than just good genes and big hearts—fear of taking the next step in a relationship when it mattered. “I didn’t think I was either, but you were right.” Her emerald-bright gaze met his and the look of complete and utter terror faded.
“Jack’s a good man, Cait.”
“I know, but I’m surprised that it took me this long to realize it. Why does that happen?”
“What happen?” he asked, unloading another length of wood and adding it to the growing stack by the side of the barn.
“You pass someone on the street nearly every day of your life, you wave,” she said, lifting another board. When he lifted his end, she continued, “They wave back, and you both smile. But then one day, something changes…maybe it’s the Earth tilting on its axis toward springtime, maybe you’ve just contracted the bubonic plague…maybe he’s been away and finally back home, and you see them—really see them—and you realize you don’t know them at all.”
Her father helped her lift the last of the boards before answering. “It was like that with Mary. We’d known one another all our lives. Her husband was a good man. We went to his wake and funeral, said whatever nonsensical words one says to comfort the bereaved while they numbly nod to you, waiting for the next person in line to do the same.”
Cait brushed her hands on the seat of her jeans and tossed her braid over her shoulder. They pulled the tarp over the wood and placed a rock on it to make sure it wouldn’t blow off.
“It was the week before Bill and Edie’s wedding three years ago that I walked into Murphy’s Market and saw Mary standing in a pool of sunlight. She had her eyes closed and a sweet smile on her face as she lifted it toward the sun.” He cleared his throat as Cait turned the key in the ignition, engaged the clutch, and put it in reverse. “I hadn’t seen a smile like that in fifteen years. After your mom died, I was so wrapped up in grief and trying to raise you girls that I’d forgotten how vibrant a woman looks when she smiles.”
They drove for a bit without speaking until she turned onto Route 13 and asked, “How’d you like to meet Jamie?”
Her dad grinned. “Want to text Jack first and ask him?”
“He might be home by now. His last appointment for the day canceled.”
“How do you know that?”
“He, uh, texted me to let me know and asked if I could stop by.”
“So, you’re really hoping I won’t mind making a detour because you can’t wait to see him?”
She signaled and pulled into Jack’s driveway. “You’ve always been the smartest man I know, Pop.”
He grinned, got out of the truck, and paused. “Any chance of the puppy running out here and jumping on the truck?”
“No, he stays in the backyard or the house. He’s pretty smart for a puppy.”
“Let’s go then.”
Cait raised her hand to knock on the back door when she heard a shout from inside. “Sounds like puppy trouble,” she said with a grin and knocked.
“Get back here, you devil dog!”
Her father chuckled. “I used to have one of those as a kid.”
They heard something crash on the other side of the door, followed by a playful yip. “Maybe Jack can’t hear you over that racket,” her father said. “Try again.”
“Hold on!” There was a muffled curse, another yip, and Jack yanked the door open, saying, “Thank God you’re here, Cait. Can you help me get my boxers—”
***
A dripping Jack tightened his hold on the towel he’d wrapped around his waist before chasing the dog. He looked from Cait to her father and back. “I, uh…come in.”
Joe stared at him but didn’t say anything, while Caitlin called Jamie and damned if the little pup didn’t just trot right over to her and sit, offering his front paw and the now-mangled pair of boxers.
She tossed them to Jack who had to snag them midair before Jamie got another chance to grab them again. “That’s the third pair this week.”
“Don’t you have a hamper?” Joe asked.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t have a padlock on it, and as soon as I get home and grab a shower, he’s in the bathroom with me, pouncing on the damned thing.”
Cait cleared her throat when she realized her father was frowning. “We can wait here with Jamie while you get dressed.”
He felt his face go hot and cursed the fact that, with his pale Irish skin, he was prone to flushing when angry or embarrassed. “Thanks. Be right back.”
He wondered why Cait had decided to bring her father by. If she’d have warned him, he might have shown up wearing more than a towel. Then again, he had thought about ditching the towel because he was expecting Cait, thinking maybe it would help them get past the hesitation they were both feeling. Good thing he hadn’t!
That had him smiling for a moment, but then he realized he’d forgotten about the mass of scars on his left leg…something that never happened before. Caitlin Mulcahy messed with his mind like no other woman. Had she seen? Had Joe? Did it really matter?
By the time he was dressed, he could hear playful growls coming from the kitchen. When he walked in, Joe had one end of Jamie’s rope toy and the puppy had the other, tugging and growling with abandon.
“Thanks for distracting him. He’ll live to see another day.”
&n
bsp; Cait walked over and poked him in the middle of his chest, a worried look on her face. “That’s nothing to joke about,” she told him. “If not for us, he might not be here right now.”
“True,” Jack said. “I was just joking. If you’ve never raised a puppy, you might not understand.”
Joe grinned. “There was this coonhound that we had when I was really little, my dad always swore that dog was one beating away from that big hunting ground in the sky.”
Too late, Jack noticed that the worry on Cait’s face morphed into fear. She really didn’t understand. “Your dad’s joking.”
“Oh.” She glanced at her dad, who nodded to reassure her. “OK.”
Jack looked down at Jamie, who was as low as he could go in order to brace himself and pull against Joe, and then up at Cait’s dad, who had a shit-eating grin on his face. It hit him then that Joe needed a dog as badly as Cait did. Too bad Grace was allergic to dogs. With Joe being retired, Jamie could keep him company and ride shotgun all around town in Joe’s truck. Because he could see it, he almost asked, but then something held him back.
Jamie must have just noticed that Jack had come back in the room. He gave a happy bark and jumped up, trying to lick Jack’s face. “Kiss up,” he said, ruffling the dog’s fur. “Down, boy.”
“We’re working on manners,” Cait told her dad.
“You’ve got a ways to go,” Joe told them. “But he’s young yet.”
“Yeah, but he’s a great dog…despite the fact that he has these bad habits of tackling people and tearing apart my laundry.”
Cait’s laugh had him staring at her. When their gazes met, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was as distracted as he was remembering their last kiss and the power of the lure between them. If her father wasn’t here, he would have taken her in his arms and feasted on that tempting mouth of hers. He sighed. He’d have to be patient.
Joe said, “I’ve got to head on home or Gracie will be on my case. She’s cooking dinner tonight.”
“Oh.” Cait’s smile faltered and she said to Jack, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
One Day in Apple Grove Page 12
