by Mia Ross
While they ate, her comment about him being the boss rattled around in his brain. Being the middle child of three, he’d always had the luxury of doing his own thing. Big brother Sam was the leader, even before he joined the army and became a Ranger before being discharged with honors. Their younger sister, Emma, was the princess, which left Brian the role of easygoing drifter. He’d never been in charge of anything before, and now that he had an employee, the monumental task he’d taken on had a lot more weight to it.
Sopping up gravy with her bread, Lindsay told him, “I’ve been wanting to ask you something for a while now.” When he motioned for her to go on, she said, “I’m dying to know how you ended up living at the forge.”
“My lease ran out at the end of last year, and I figured rather than wasting money on more rent and gas for my truck, I’d cut down on my commute by moving into the old cottage at the ironworks. There’s a bathroom and a small kitchen, which I don’t really need because Gran keeps me fed. It’s not much to look at, and the furnace isn’t all that reliable. But there’s a fireplace, so it works for me.”
“Is it safe for you to live there?” Lindsay asked, frowning in obvious concern.
“Building inspector okayed it when he gave me the go-ahead on the rehab. Beyond getting some inventory on the shelves, my biggest hurdle has been the environmental regulations for running a coal-fired forge in a business district. The air-scrubbing equipment wiped out most of my savings, but now that it’s installed and approved, I’m glad I did it.”
“Why did you decide to go to that extreme?” Lindsay asked in a practical tone at odds with his memory of a careless girl who’d always drifted from one thing to the next. “You could install a modern system and still make things the old-fashioned way.”
“I want it to be as authentic as possible, so it runs the way it did when the Calhouns first started out. Once we get to tourist season, the ironworks will be crawling with visitors, and I want them to get the full-on experience. Jordan puts on live demonstrations at Renaissance fairs, and he does twice the business of guys who just bring everything in already finished. Folks love sparks and fire.”
“Sparks and fire,” Lindsay echoed, teasing a napkin from the holder on the table. “I need to write that down for the website. Do you have a pen?”
“Whatta you think?”
She laughed, and it struck him that he was beginning to hear that more often now. “I think this is like math class, when I had to bring extra pencils for you.”
“Here you go, honey,” his grandmother said, handing over one of the pens that she kept in the front pocket of her flour-covered apron. “Knowing Brian, you’ll need plenty of office supplies before you can get anything done.”
“That means a trip to the nearest mall, I guess,” Lindsay complained, wiggling the feet she had propped on a chair in front of her.
She didn’t sound as enthused about that as most women he’d known would have, and it occurred to him that his new office manager was beginning to run out of steam. He could either put it off—and lose another day of work time—or come up with an alternative.
Inspiration struck when a sign on the wall caught his attention.
We don’t have internet in here. Talk to each other.
“We can get a lotta this stuff online. Gran, I know you don’t like folks using the web connection here, but could you make an exception for us? We’ll work in your office so no one sees us.”
She gave him a suspicious look, but the fondness twinkling in her eyes kind of ruined the effect. “If I tell you the code, you have to promise you’ll keep it to yourselves. I’m not running one of those newfangled internet cafés, and I don’t want people sitting in here with their noses tucked into their chests, staring at their phones.”
“Scout’s honor,” he replied, holding up his hand.
“You quit the Scouts in second grade, so I hardly think that applies.”
“Really?” Lindsay asked. “Why?”
“I didn’t like being told what to do and how to do it.”
“I know what you mean.”
“So,” he commented, rocking his chair back on its legs because he knew it drove Gran crazy, “we’re just a couple of rebels.”
That got him a half smile. “I guess so.”
“You’re quite the pair,” Gran said. She leaned in to whisper the supersecret code to him, then added, “The after-school snacks should be done soon, and I’ll bring you something for dessert. And a nice glass of milk for your little one,” she added, patting Lindsay’s shoulder in the sweet gesture she used with people from two years old to eighty.
As she headed back into the kitchen, Lindsay watched her go and then sighed. “Your grandmother is the absolute best. I don’t know what would’ve happened to me and the baby if she didn’t take us in the way she did.”
“Yeah, she’s something else.” Standing, he motioned her ahead of him. “Ready to get to work?”
Laughing again, she pointed in the other direction. “Bathroom first.”
The way she said it made him chuckle. “Guess I’m gonna have to get used to that, huh?”
“I’ll try to make sure I’m worth the trouble.”
The way she ducked her head alerted him that he’d inadvertently pushed one of her buttons, and he frowned. She sidled past him, and he reached out to gently catch her arm. She glowered up at him and jerked her arm free. The defiant motion told him more than he needed to know about what had happened to her, and he vowed that if he ever met up with Jeff again, things wouldn’t end well for the deadbeat father.
Striving for a calm tone, he asked, “Where’d you get the idea that you’re trouble?”
“Lots of people. Ask anyone.”
“I’m asking you.”
“Brian, don’t do this. I don’t want to get into it with you.”
“You mean now,” he clarified, “or not ever?”
“Yes. Now can I please go to the bathroom?”
He stepped back, and she lumbered past him in what he now recognized was her top speed. So many things she’d said to him since their unexpected reunion made no sense to him, and part of him wished that she’d chosen somewhere else to go.
Another part, one he wasn’t crazy about right now, was happy that she’d come back. While he understood that she hadn’t returned to him personally, he liked knowing that when she found herself out of options, she thought of Liberty Creek. He understood the appeal of the quaint little town buried in the depths of New Hampshire, far from the cold, unfeeling world that had chewed him up and spit him out more times than he cared to recall.
Instinct told him that Lindsay had experienced it much the same way, and needed a safe haven to catch her breath and have her baby. After that, who knew? As unpredictable as she was beautiful, the blue-eyed gypsy that had captured his heart so long ago didn’t seem to have changed all that much.
Working with her would be a challenge, given their personal history. Then again, he had a business to launch, so that should help him keep her at an appropriate distance. He wasn’t a shirker, and he’d always put his best effort into whatever he did. Responsibility for someone else was new to him, and he wasn’t at all certain he was ready for it. But now Lindsay and her unborn child were counting on him, even if it was only for a paycheck.
When she rejoined him, they generated a reasonable list of supplies, which she typed into the computer without looking at the keys even once. Being technologically challenged, Brian was impressed by yet another skill she had that his business desperately needed.
During a lull, she took a sip of water and then said, “I was thinking.”
He chuckled. “Is that good or bad?”
“That depends on what you think of my idea.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
“Well, I really like the custom-order concept for the forge, because you�
�ll only be making things you’ve already sold.”
He appreciated the compliment, but it didn’t take a genius to see that she had something else in mind. “But?”
“I’m wondering if you could keep a small inventory of stock items that are always available. That way, someone could request something, we’d fill the order from inventory on the shelf, and the customer would have it a lot sooner.”
“Folks are impatient these days, that’s for sure. Those big internet companies guarantee two-day shipping if you pay for it.”
“Exactly. Of course, your products would all still be handmade, but quicker service will give you an edge over other home decor retailers.”
When she paused for breath, Brian realized that she must have rehearsed this little spiel before presenting her idea to him. It was another example of how much the impulsive girl he’d known had matured into an intelligent, thoughtful woman. Much as he liked the difference, he found himself hoping that once her life calmed down a bit, that girl might poke her head out again.
He kind of missed her. She was a lot of fun.
Appalled by his errant train of thought, he firmly brought his head back to the matter at hand. “Jordan’s the artist, but I can make pretty much anything if it’s not real fancy. What’d you have in mind?”
In reply, she swiveled the monitor so he could see the screen. Apparently, she’d been researching various online vendors that offered iron products ranging from napkin holders to mug trees. “This could work. These things are small, and I could probably knock together several in a good day.”
“I like these,” she said excitedly, flipping to another screen to show him a selection of wall-mounted sayings. “They’re a single word, and then you can put them together to make your own phrase.”
“The cutout ones are cool, too. I’ve seen guys on TV using lasers to make stuff like that.”
“Lasers?” she teased. “Don’t you think that’s a little out of place in a shop that keeps a coal fire burning from one day to the next?”
“Good point. Maybe we can add that later.” Tilting her head, she gave him a look he couldn’t begin to identify. “What?”
“You said ‘we,’” she commented in a soft, vulnerable voice that reminded him just how far she’d fallen. “Does that mean you think of us as a team?”
Did he? When she first showed up on his doorstep, he never would’ve considered it. But there was no denying that Lindsay had the skills he was sorely lacking, and her take-charge attitude had freed him from some of the worry that had been weighing him down. He’d been concerned about feeling more pressure because of his obligation to Lindsay and her baby.
In truth, he felt less. Maybe because while he’d taken on some of Lindsay’s burden, in return she’d accepted some of his. That was the way his parents had always been, sharing the tough times, celebrating the good ones. Their partnership was more than a marriage, and he’d long ago realized that was why he was still single.
The easy part was finding a woman to love, who loved him in return. He’d had a few long-term relationships, and for one reason or another, they hadn’t lasted. The hard part—the one he hadn’t mastered yet—was feeling that kind of devotion for someone who matched him on some deeper level. Someone who found a way to reach the piece of him that he normally kept to himself.
When it occurred to him that Lindsay was still waiting for him to respond, he opted for humor. “Well, two people don’t make much of a team.”
“That depends on the people, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess it does.”
That got him a delighted smile, and as she shifted her attention back to their list, he grinned despite himself.
“Lindsay?” When she glanced up, he said, “I wanna thank you for everything you’ve done. Things would be a lot bleaker without you. At the forge, I mean,” he added quickly, just to make sure he was being clear.
“You’re very welcome. I should thank you for taking a chance on me. Not many people would have, under the circumstances.”
Crossing his arms on the desk, he leaned forward to show her he meant what he was about to say. “Can I make a suggestion?”
“You’re the boss.”
She held her fingers over the keys as if preparing to take more notes, and he shook his head. “I mean, as me.”
“Oh.” Resting her hands in her lap, she gave him a curious look. “Go ahead.”
“How ’bout if we both agree to let the past be in the past, and go on from here? That way, you can stop apologizing for what happened years ago.”
“Does that mean you forgive me?”
Until recently, Brian never would’ve thought that kind of thing was possible. But now, sitting here with the woman who’d singlehandedly helped him save his fledgling business, he couldn’t imagine anything else. Smiling, he said, “Yes, Lindsay, I forgive you.”
She beamed at him as if he’d just granted her fondest wish. “If I could get out of this chair gracefully, I’d hug you.”
“No problem. I’ll settle for that smile.”
“Really?”
“Sure. I always loved seeing you happy.”
He hadn’t intended to say that out loud, but when those incredible blue eyes brightened with joy, he decided maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea, after all.
“You know,” she said, giving him a decidedly feminine smirk, “for an arrogant jock, you’re really sweet.”
He recognized the backhanded compliment from their high school days, and he came back with, “And for a brainiac, you’re an awesome cheerleader.”
They both burst out laughing, and she put a hand on her stomach. “The baby’s dancing around in there.”
“She must like it when you laugh.”
“Do you want to feel?”
“Seriously?” She nodded, and then guided his palm to the right spot. He felt a wriggling movement, and met her eyes in disbelief. “That’s incredible.”
“I know. Sometimes it still amazes me that there’s a little person in there, moving around, growing, getting ready to be born. It makes me want to be the best mom ever, even when I’m not sure what that means.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Brian assured her as he sat back. “Mom and Gran will be around, so you won’t have to do everything by yourself.”
“And now I have a job, so things are looking up for us.”
Her upbeat tone sounded a bit forced to him, but he knew there was nothing more he could do. So, because he was a practical sort of guy, he settled on logic. “If we’re gonna keep moving in that direction, we’d better get back to work on this website.”
“As soon as I use the bathroom.”
Brian chuckled, but didn’t say anything as he helped her to her feet and then stacked her sketches for future reference. For the next six weeks, he’d be getting a firsthand education in how to deal with a pregnant woman.
He had a feeling that before winter was over, things were going to get a lot more interesting.
Chapter Seven
“Emma, these are fabulous!”
Across Ellie’s dining room table were spread a dozen posters of varying sizes, with all manner of hearts and ribbons curling around elegant calligraphy of details for the upcoming Sweetheart Dance. Brian had been dead-on in his prediction: Lindsay had been unanimously voted in as chairwoman and now had her hands fuller than ever. With Valentine’s Day a scant two weeks away, she’d gone into what her new boss called her “major general” mode and put out the call for help from wherever she could get it.
The first person to respond had been Emma Calhoun.
Lindsay remembered her as a pixie-ish girl who harassed her older brothers every chance she got. Today, she was dressed in soft winter layers and a pale blue woolen hat, looking as adorable as a cancer patient could possibly be. How she held up so well under t
he rigors of chemo amazed Lindsay, who vowed then and there to stop complaining about her swollen ankles.
“Thanks,” the young woman beamed, a bit of color pinking her pale cheeks. “I love doing the kids’ projects with them at school, but it’s fun to design something for grown-ups.”
“Well, these are exactly what I had in mind,” Lindsay complimented her, shuffling through the posters to the large banner underneath. “We just started working on the dance last week. How did you get all these done so fast?”
Glancing around, Emma leaned in as if she was sharing a huge secret. “I had my middle-schoolers help me. The boys weren’t into it, but the girls jumped right in.”
“That explains all the glitter,” Lindsay commented with a chuckle. Then an idea popped into her head, and she said, “I know parents are probably looking forward to an adult evening, but do you think we should do something for kids, too? Parents could drop them off, come to the dance, then pick them up afterward, like you did for New Year’s Eve.”
Emma’s china blue eyes lit up with genuine enthusiasm. “That’s a great idea! You’re really starting to think like a mom.”
Lindsay wasn’t sure about that, but she didn’t want to sound ungracious, so she smiled. “Thanks.”
“Are you scared?” Emma asked. “I apologize if that’s out of line, but if it was me, I’d be terrified.”
“With what you’re going through? I doubt it.”
“But that only involves me,” she explained, holding out her arms to emphasize her point. “What you’re doing is so much more intimidating, because you’re doing it for someone else.”
No one had ever expressed it to her that way, and Lindsay rolled the concept around in her mind before realizing that Emma had nailed her emotions on the head. “I guess you’re right. I haven’t been able to pin down why I felt that way until now, though.”
“I don’t know about you, but I like having an idea of what I’m up against. Then I can decide how to attack it and beat it into the ground.”
Gritty and full of determination, the statement was a glimpse into the character of the woman who was fighting such a horrible disease with everything she had. If Emma was able keep her spirits up during cancer treatments, Lindsay realized there was hope for her, too. “How do you stay so upbeat?”
