by C. C. Coburn
Jack scratched his elbow again. She knew that what he was suffering from was something she could easily cure. With no chance of Jack dying.
“What do you want from me, Jack?” she asked.
His eyebrows rose speculatively.
“Apart from that.”
He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Did I say anything?”
She grinned. That would doubtless be very nice. She wondered what it would be like to have a young, virile man like Jack make love to her. Instead of a selfish older man like Edward who was also a lousy lover.
Wondering what sort of lover Jack would be, now that he was a man—not a fumbling teen—Grace felt her face heat.
“Are you okay?” Jack asked. “You look flushed.”
“I’m fine,” she said, working to recover her equilibrium. “But can we negotiate? I’d very much like you to restore this house for me.”
“Then you’ll have to help with it,” he said, and glanced pointedly at her manicured nails.
“You’ve got to be joking! You have a foreman, so I assume you have a crew of workers. How would I be able to help?”
“You can sweep up, run down to the hardware store for supplies. Make lunch for the gang. Paint walls. Stuff like that.”
“And my trip to Europe?”
“You and I both know you just made that up.”
Grace chewed her lip. Jack was pretty shrewd. “I’d like to go to Europe sometime.”
“Then you can. When we’ve finished this project.”
We. The word scared her, especially in relation to Jack. They’d dated for two years but had only made love once—the night before Jack headed off for the peace corps and she left for college. Jack had excited her far more that fateful night than Edward ever did the entire time they were married.
And Jack had given her what Edward never could.
Why they’d waited so long to make love, she had no idea. But six weeks later, feeling as if she had a bad case of the flu but suspecting worse in spite of their use of birth control, Grace had purchased a pregnancy test.
When it came back positive, Grace knew she had only two options. Since the first went against her beliefs about preserving human life, she started making inquiries about adoption. If she’d known Jack was in town, Grace would never have come back to Spruce Lake. Her fear that he would discover her secret was too great. She was sure her guilt was written all over her face.
“What’s up?” he asked. “Your face is flushed again.”
To prevent Jack from asking any further questions she stuck out her hand. “If I agree to your outrageous terms, do we have a deal?”
What was she saying? She couldn’t get out of town fast enough to prevent Jack from somehow discovering the truth, yet here she was agreeing to stay and help. Then again, it wasn’t like she had anything else to do for the next few months—so why not stay? She owed him that for making time in his schedule and she really needed to have the house restored before it completely fell to pieces. She couldn’t live with that sort of disgrace.
And besides, how hard could it be watching Jack working under the hot sun? Seeing him again, she couldn’t get rid of the notion they had unfinished business. Business that had nothing to do with the child they shared, but a whole lot to do with sex.
She’d kept her secret safe this long. She could keep it to herself a bit longer.
Jack took her hand and held it. “Deal.”
His hand felt warm and strong. Grace didn’t want to let it go. Where was Jack when she’d broken down at the hospital the other day? She was sure if she’d had his strong shoulders to lean on, she wouldn’t have had such a public meltdown.
Chapter Three
“Boss!”
They jumped apart at Al’s shout.
“I’m done with the estimate for the outside. I’ll leave the rest to you, okay?” he said. “Maria’s giving me hell about getting home for dinner with the kids tonight.”
“Sure, sure,” Jack said. “Stop by Mrs. Carmichael’s and pick up a big bunch of flowers for that wonderful wife of yours.” Jack drew his cell out of his pocket. “I’ll call Mrs. C. She’ll be waiting outside her shop.”
Al’s face broke into a wide smile. “I knew there was a reason I worked for a slave driver like you!” He saluted Grace. “Bye, ma’am.” A moment later he disappeared through the front door.
Grace listened while Jack called the florist. He seemed to be close to her since he could order flowers over the phone without credit card details. And have the woman waiting outside her shop to hand Al a bouquet as he drove by!
Jack hung up and said, “Now, how are you going to cure me of this itching? And please don’t say it’s bedbugs!”
* * *
GRACE LAUGHED. JACK LOVED the sound of it, deep-throated and sexy as hell. He’d been a hormonal teen when he’d first laid eyes on Grace in his English class fifteen years ago. He fell for her hard. After they started dating, he’d assumed they’d eventually marry, stay in Spruce Lake, have kids. He made a face at the memory of his teenage delusion.
Turned out she’d had other plans, ones that didn’t include him in her future.
During his time in the seminary, he’d worked hard to suppress his memories of her, his desire to hold her and make love to her again.
Grace touched his arm and he reveled in the warmth and silkiness of her fingertips on his skin.
“If I suspected you were suffering from bedbugs, trust me, I’d have hightailed it back to Boston.”
He tried to smile, but the thought that Grace might leave again filled him with dread.
“You have eczema.” Her voice became serious as she examined the angry red rash. Her hands felt warm on him. Too warm. Too good. “It’s not contagious and it’s easily curable. Do you suffer from allergies?”
“None that I know of. Why?”
“Because it’s often due to an allergic reaction, either to grasses or something you’ve been eating. Stress can set it off, too. Does asthma run in the family?”
“Mom has it, but nothing severe.”
“Uh-huh. Do you drink acidic juices, like orange, pineapple, stuff like that?”
“Not usually, but lately I’ve been swigging OJ as a pick-me-up.”
She nodded. “That’s about the worst thing you can do. I’ll make a list of foods to avoid and write you a prescription for a medicated cream. That should take care of it.”
“How can a Massachusetts doctor write me a prescription?”
“I took the precaution of getting licensed to practice in Colorado a couple of years ago, in case Aunt Missy was ever moves to a care home in Denver and needed me around for a while.”
He considered this, then said, “Doc Jenkins has given me creams before.”
“Probably not the right ones. Has he ever talked to you about your diet?”
Jack shook his head, tongue-tied because Grace was absentmindedly stroking the inside of his arm. Didn’t she know what it was doing to him?
“Doesn’t sound like much of a doctor to me.”
“You got that right. He should’ve retired years ago, but he’s the only family doc in town, so we’re stuck with him.”
“You mean to tell me, after all the years I’ve been away, there’s still only one doctor in Spruce Lake?”
Not wanting to imply that the town only attracted worn-out old coots like Doc Jenkins, he said, “There’s a couple of orthopedic guys who come for the winter. They do very well out of all the skiers and snowboarders who break their bones.”
“And if a woman would prefer to see a female doctor?”
“Then she has to go to Silver Springs.”
“Which, in spite of its proximity to Spruce Lake, is an inconvenience.”
“You could always set up practice here,” Jack suggested.
“I’m a pediatrician,” she said. “Not an OB/GYN.” Grace wandered into the kitchen and turned back to him. “If you want to do your estimate, I can swing by the ph
armacy and get your cream.”
“Sounds good. But first you’d better tell me what you want done with the place.”
“We’ll get to that in a moment, but since you’re insisting I stay in town, I’d like to live here while you do the renovations.”
“Hoo, boy.”
“You seem to think that’s a bad idea.”
“Do you realize how much dust’ll be involved?”
“No.”
“That was a rhetorical question. Trust me, you’d be better off renting somewhere during the reno.”
“Since I won’t be earning an income while the renovations are going on, I don’t want to waste money on rent.”
“Yet you were about to embark on an expensive trip through Europe for a couple of months?”
“I seem to remember foolishly offering to pay you double your estimate to get the work done,” she said with a shrug.
Jack grinned. “Yeah, there is that.”
Grace flashed him one of her brilliant smiles and he said, “I wasn’t going to take you up on that, so go find somewhere else to live. People post ads at the supermarket all the time.”
“Great idea.”
“So how is it you came to inherit the house and not your father?” he ventured.
“I didn’t inherit it—I bought it from Aunt Missy years ago. You might remember we lived here rent-free in exchange for my dad taking care of the place.” She grimaced and Jack understood what Grace meant by it. The house could’ve been better looked after. Things had come to a head—there’d been accusations of money going missing and Grace’s parents had moved on. Grace had stayed to finish high school.
“I was the only person in the family who kept in touch with her. A couple of years after I graduated from med school she wrote and offered me a deal—I buy the house at a reduced rate and she could then afford to move into the Twilight Years. She wanted the house kept in the family. Aunt Missy knew full well that if she willed it to my father, he’d sell it and fritter the money away, so she came up with a plan. Since she was asset-rich but didn’t have a lot of savings after my parents fleeced her, and I’d started working and had enough for a down payment, I took out a mortgage and bought the place from Aunt Missy. It was a pretty sneaky way of keeping my father’s hands off both the house and the profit he’d make by selling it, but it’s what Missy wanted and I was happy to help her out. Aunt Missy moved into the Twilight Years and I rented out the house to help with the mortgage payments. When Missy died, my father flipped out because there was nothing for him in her will and he tried to get me to sign the house over to him. Forget it!”
Jack said, “You and Aunt Missy were sure cut from the same cloth. Smart as whips. And your relationship with your parents?”
“Not good. Not that it ever was. I worked hard to win that scholarship to a college so far away partly because I wanted to get away from them.”
* * *
IMMEDIATELY AFTER SHE’D said it, Grace wanted to take the words back. Jack would think she wanted to get away from him, too. But that was far from the truth.
She wished, for one fleeting moment, that when she’d discovered she was pregnant with Jack’s baby, they could have married, kept their child. But after weighing the pros and cons, she’d decided that if they followed that path, there was no way she’d be able to stay in college and keep up her grades. They’d have struggled financially for the rest of their lives. Grace had been there, done that with her parents and she had no intention of repeating their mistakes.
Her lip curled as she thought, Yet here you are, a dozen years later, with a rewarding career, a lot of money and no one to love. That’s some definition of success.
“I’m sorry your relationship never resolved itself, Grace. I couldn’t imagine not being part of a close family,” he said. “I love everyone in my family. And I love that all my brothers are married now and have wives and children. It’s the cycle of life.”
Grace smiled. “That is such a nice compliment to them. They’re very lucky to have someone like you in their lives.” If only I had someone who truly cared about me.
* * *
HER HEARTFELT WORDS filled Jack with warmth. He was about to ask her more about her family when Grace turned and headed toward the stairs.
“Now, what needs to be done up here?” she asked, heading to the second floor.
Jack caught her seconds before she put her foot though a broken board. “For a start, I replace some of these treads. I’ll show you which ones to avoid.”
“I’m impressed you can pick them out. They all look the same to me.”
Ignoring her compliment, he said, “I can put through an order for some oak tomorrow.”
Grace smiled. “You can really start that soon?”
“Provided you’re happy with my estimate, I can start on this first thing in the morning. At least make it safe to climb the stairs without breaking your neck.”
Grace frowned and said, “I guess I should talk about stress management. I don’t want you to work so hard you’ll end up feeling too stressed to finish the job.”
Deep in his heart, Jack knew he couldn’t walk out on Grace, couldn’t leave her and this magnificent house in the hands of another contractor. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’ll be an honor to work on a place like this.”
They took the last step onto the top landing. “Keep away from the railing. It’s loose,” he warned before they made their way toward the master bedroom.
* * *
GRACE STEPPED INTO her parents’ old bedroom but wasn’t prepared for the memories that assailed her. Aunt Missy had given up her beautiful bedroom with the view of the town for Grace’s parents to use. And they’d rewarded her by duping her out of her money. She turned away.
“You’ll want to talk to an interior designer,” he suggested.
“You don’t do that yourself?”
He shook his head. “No, I only perform miracles on the house itself. I know how I’d decorate, but I recommend consulting a professional.”
Grace nodded, impressed with Jack’s professionalism and attention to detail as she watched him make notes in a booklet.
“Now, the roof,” he said. “The insulation—what’s left of it—should be replaced. And although the slates seem to be in pretty good condition, I noticed stains on the ceiling, which means water’s getting in. I’ll have a roofing contractor take a look.”
He made another note in the booklet, tore out the page and handed it to her. “This is the number of an interior designer I’ve worked with before. Get her out here as soon as you can. Feel free to use my name if you have to.”
Grace took the proffered paper. “I’ll see if she can meet me here tomorrow morning.”
“That might be pushing it, but I’ll mark the loose steps as we go out, in case she comes when I’m not here.”
“Thank you. That’s very thoughtful.” She followed him down the hallway and paused at the top of the stairs while Jack bent and marked each unsafe step with a piece of chalk.
“Careful,” he cautioned as he reached to take her hand. “It’s darker than when we came in. I’ll get the power connected tomorrow.”
He glanced at his watch. “How about if you go to the pharmacy while I finish measuring?”
“I’m on my way.”
* * *
GRACE RETURNED TO the house thirty minutes later. Jack was sitting on the front porch, once more scribbling in his notebook. The way he bent his head, the book resting on his forearm, brought back memories of him at school, struggling to read a passage in class.
She knew he hated having to read out loud or do oral presentations. Some of the kids had laughed at him when he stumbled over the words. She’d guessed he was dyslexic and felt some of his pain. Grace knew what it was like to be different. She’d hush the other kids, turning to glare at them, surprised when they’d complied. After that, she’d volunteered for peer tutoring.
Jack got up and walked over to meet her a
s she climbed out of her rental. She handed him the pharmacy bag, saying, “The instructions for use are on the package. Stop the orange juice and I’ll check your progress in the morning.”
Jack pulled out his wallet, but she stopped him. “It’s on me. Consider it gratitude for agreeing to this project on such short notice.”
Jack glanced at his watch again, leaving Grace with the uncomfortable feeling that he had better things to do than spend time with her. “I’ve got a dinner engagement, so I should go,” he said. “If there’s nothing more you need to discuss tonight, I’ll head out.”
Sorry he had a date and miffed that he hadn’t asked her out instead—although why should he, given their history?—Grace shuddered at the sense of melancholy she felt. She hated this time of day between dusk and dark. She didn’t like being alone then.
After the divorce, the friends she thought she could count on were more faithful to Edward than to her. Understandable since most of them had been his friends first. He’d kept her so isolated, she’d had little chance to cultivate true friendships for herself. She knew no one outside the medical world apart from her hairdresser and Pilates instructor. How pathetic is that? she thought.
“You okay?” he asked, his eyes reflecting his concern.
Grace forced a smile. “Just tired. It’s been a hell of a week. I need to check into my hotel in Silver Springs, take a long, hot shower and crawl into bed.”
“I’ll get that window repaired and new locks put on all the doors tomorrow, too.”
“Thank you for agreeing to renovate this house, Jack,” she said. “I really appreciate that you made room for me in your schedule.”
“I aim to please.” He began to walk to his truck, then paused and turned back. “If you don’t have any plans, would you like to come to dinner at the ranch tonight? Mom won’t mind another mouth to feed. I’m sure my folks would love to see you.”
Taken aback by the unexpected invitation, and the implication that there was neither wife nor girlfriend in the picture, Grace could only stumble over her words. “Er, no, not tonight, Jack, thanks.” She covered an exaggerated yawn. “As I said, I’ve got some sleep to catch up on, and calls to make.” She held up the slip of paper he’d given her.
