by Donna Alward
CHAPTER FOUR
MEL SIGNED UP to volunteer at the construction site a few more times. Stu and his family would be able to move in within a week or so, and now it was down to the finishing touches. Bifold doors were being hung for the bedroom closets. The appliances arrived, and on a particularly warm afternoon in late September, the washer and dryer were installed while heavy equipment worked outside, leveling what would be the front yard. It was too late to seed or sod, but come next spring, the ground would be ready.
By choosing afternoon time slots, Melissa had figured she’d miss seeing Coop. He tended to quit by lunchtime so he could get back and look after things at the Double C. It was just easier if they kept their distance from each other. The last thing she needed was to be getting ideas. A truce was one thing, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew what that tingly, breathless sensation meant, and it would only mean trouble—for both of them.
In another week she should know for sure if the last attempt at the clinic had been a success. Until then, she was simply keeping herself busy to make the time go faster. She made sure she was eating right, just in case, and that she got a good seven to eight hours’ sleep every night. If by some miracle she’d conceived, she was determined to do everything right from the start. She’d even cut back on her caffeine consumption, drinking only half-caf in the mornings.
She was just taking a pot of bronze mums out of the trunk of her car when she saw the familiar brown half-ton pull into the yard.
She inhaled and exhaled deeply. Okay. Just because Coop and she were both here didn’t mean they had to work on the same thing. She’d done a good job of avoiding him for years. She could manage to be in the same general area and not speak a word to him. She’d done it tons of times in the past.
Except there was one problem. Coop had always made a point of avoiding her, too, and now he wasn’t. It was way harder to ignore someone who didn’t ignore you in return.
“Hey, Mel.”
His voice came from behind her, warm and smooth. She tried very hard not to sigh. Instead, she picked up the huge pot and turned around, half hiding behind the greenery and rusty-orange blossoms.
“Cooper. Excuse me, please.”
He reached out. “Let me take that for you.”
“It’s fine. I’ve got it.”
She started off toward the porch. The mums would look great flanking the front steps, out of the way of the wheelchair ramp that had been built in anticipation of Cheryl’s declining health. Mel put the pot down and spun it so the blooms showed to best advantage. When she turned to go back to her car for the second pot, she nearly ran smack into Coop, who was right behind her, carrying the partner arrangement.
“Thought I’d bring the other one.”
She gritted her teeth. “Fine. Put it on the other side.” She darted away to grab her supplies and shut her trunk.
He’d put the pot in the precise spot she’d wanted, and was waiting as she approached the steps. “What else have you got?” he asked pleasantly.
She wrinkled her brow. “Don’t you have something to hammer or nail or screw or something?”
He burst out laughing. She blushed. She could feel it flood her cheeks and neck, and her tone grew even more irritated. “Oh, you know what I mean! What are you, twelve?”
It only made him laugh harder. “What is so damned funny?” she demanded.
“You!” He paused and wiped his eyes. “Some truce,” he commented. “You’re meaner than ever.”
“Having a truce does not make us besties all of a sudden,” she said acidly, moving past him and up the steps.
“Clearly,” he answered, following her.
She had more going on in her life than he could imagine, certainly more than worrying about what he thought of her. She tried to envision his face if she told him she was possibly pregnant by a sperm donor. He’d swallow his tongue. She nearly did tell him, just for the shock value.
But she kept silent, knowing this was too important to joke about. She frowned. A lot of people in this town would talk behind their hands if they knew what she’d been planning. She’d thought about that a lot while making her decision. She had a business here. Family. It was a very small town. Not everyone was that forward thinking. They still thought the correct order of things was to meet someone, get married and then start a family.
Truth was, she tended to agree with that assessment in most cases. But real life wasn’t always that neat and tidy, and in her world, a girl had to do what she had to do. Melissa was responsible for her own happiness, and damn public opinion.
She reached into her canvas bag and pulled out a wooden pole and bracket, a small cordless drill and a flat packet that contained a rectangle of brightly colored nylon. She liked the homey touch of a decorative flag. This one was in autumn hues, a collage of fall leaves in yellows, oranges, reds and browns, with the word Welcome across the bottom.
“What’s that?”
She took the pole and bracket out of the plastic sheathing. “It’s a flag. I’ll mount the bracket here, on the porch pillar, and then put the flag up.”
“Need a hand with that?”
“Not really.” She took out the screws, set the bracket against the post and held it there with her forearm while she placed a screw on the drill bit. It wobbled and she shifted, which made the bracket slip so that it was off center.
“Pride goes before the fall,” Coop noted.
She refused to look at him. “I’m hardly in danger of falling.”
He chuckled. “The saying isn’t literal, you know. Here, let me hold the bracket while you set the screw.”
She could refuse, but if the stupid thing slipped again she was going to look like an idiot. And she did appreciate the fact that he was offering to help rather than do it for her, the way most men would. “Fine. Just make sure it’s centered.”
He held it and she put in the first screw, then the second.
“Thanks,” she said quietly. “It won’t move now. I can put the last ones in just fine.”
He didn’t leave as she finished fastening the bracket. Instead he opened the package and unfolded the flag. “This is nice,” he said, spreading out the nylon.
“I know Cheryl tires so easily with her MS. She’s going to want to pick stuff out herself, but a few touches here and there might make this seem homey right away.”
Melissa took the flag from his hand and threaded the pole through the pocket. Then she slid the stick into the bracket, tightened the screw to hold it in place, and it was done. The flag rippled gently in the warm westerly breeze. Welcome.
“There,” she said, standing back and putting her hands on her hips. “I should see what else there is to do.”
She left Coop standing on the porch while she went inside to find the coordinator and get her assignment.
It turned out that the big project of the day was constructing the deck, so Melissa made her way to the back of the house. Six-by-six posts were stuck in concrete blocks, and a group of men, Cooper included, were finishing the construction of all the support pieces. A pile of decking sat to one side, waiting to be cut into the appropriate lengths and screwed down. A makeshift table of sawhorses and plywood held a box of coffee from the shop out on the highway, as well as two brown boxes half depleted of doughnuts.
When Cooper saw her standing to the side, he tilted back his hat. “Hey, George,” he called out. “Melissa there is pretty handy with a drill. You should get her set up with a belt and a pouch of screws.”
George Grant, a retired farmer, pushed back his own cap. “That true, Miss Stone?”
She lifted her arm as if she were holding a pistol. “I brought my own.” And she knew how to use it. Maybe she wasn’t up to speed on brad nailers and miter saws and everything else, but she did most of the upkeep on her property herse
lf. Having a drill, a set of screwdrivers and pliers had come in very handy over the years.
George laughed, a good-natured wheeze. “Of course you did. Well, give us a few minutes and we’ll be ready to put you to work. Gonna start cutting the decking real soon.”
Cooper threw her a wink that she ignored. Just as she ignored his dusty boots, snug jeans and the way his chest filled out a plaid shirt and fleece vest. The Double C brand decorated the left breast, one C nestled within the other.
She understood that he was sorry for what had happened. She was even willing to call a truce. But there was a long way to go to reestablish trust, or even respect. She could forgive him for making a bad judgment call. That didn’t mean she was naive enough to let him close enough to have an impact on her life again. Throw her own surprising reaction into the midst and she’d prefer to stay as far away from Coop as possible.
There were enough people around that she was spared having to engage in much conversation. Instead she worked steadily, lining up the decking and screwing it down to the supports. It wasn’t an overly large deck, but the Dickinsons would be able to put a barbecue on it, along with a set of patio furniture for enjoying warm summer days. Since it was south facing, it would get a lot of sun, and as the structure took shape Mel could envision pots of flowers and herbs blooming there. The afternoon waned, the floor of the deck was done, and as a group they began working on the railing. It was past five, then past six, but everyone silently agreed that they’d come this close to finishing and may as well carry on.
At quarter to seven they were finally done, and spent another ten minutes picking up wood scraps and storing everything in the garage. As Mel walked to her car, Cooper fell in step beside her. “That was good work today,” he said. “Long, but good.”
“It’s all pretty much done now, isn’t it?” she asked, reaching her car door and opening it. She threw her purse inside and then bent to carefully place the drill on the seat.
“The official unveiling is next Saturday. Are you coming?”
“Oh.” She straightened, resting one arm on the top of the open door. “I hadn’t actually heard about it.”
“We’re doing a spit roast. Side of beef, half a pig, baked beans, you know the drill. Make it a real housewarming for them.”
“That’s nice.”
He gave a small shrug. “Like I said, Stu’s one of my guys. I’m happy to help. Mom’s organizing the food stuff, but I think we’re just asking people who are coming to bring some sort of dessert. You should try to make it.”
“We’ll see.” It did sound like fun, and it was going to be a community event so they wouldn’t be in each other’s face the whole time. It wasn’t like this was a date or anything.
“I’d better go. I was gone a long time today,” Coop said. “I need to check on things at the barns and grab some dinner. I’ll see you around, Mel.”
He walked away. She watched the movement of his shoulders as he reached into his pocket for his keys, and then admired the length of his legs as he put one foot in his truck and swung himself up into the seat. Amy had commented that he hadn’t dated much in the last few years. Again Melissa wondered why, because during the years she and Scott had been married, he’d gone through a bunch of girlfriends, none of them lasting more than a few months. Cooper had broken his share of hearts.
Dust flew up from his tires as he backed up, turned around and headed out the driveway toward the road.
She’d thought he played the field a little too enthusiastically, but she realized now that Amy was right. The last few years Melissa hadn’t seen him with anyone on his arm. He’d said that he’d been really angry with Scott about the affair. Had that event made Coop take a look in the mirror?
Maybe she really hadn’t been the only one affected by the situation. After all, Scott had left town. She hadn’t realized that Coop’s friendship with him had ended so completely, as well. She’d kind of figured they’d stayed in touch.
She got behind the wheel of her car and sighed. Tonight he hadn’t made the slightest suggestion that they go for coffee or a bite to eat. Not that she’d wanted him to, but their last few encounters he’d been pressing his case.
Apparently he’d finally gotten the message. There was no earthly reason why she should be feeling let down about that, but she was. As she turned in the opposite direction from Coop, she laughed a little. Maybe all this indecision was just hormones.
A girl could hope, after all.
* * *
Mel went right from the shop to the housewarming, carrying her favorite caramel bread pudding in a covered glass dish. She’d dressed for the weather, which had turned quite cool at the end of September. There was a frost warning for tonight, and even though there were rumors of a bonfire happening later, she knew it would get chilly. She wore skinny jeans and her favorite black boots that came to just below the knee, a raspberry-colored tailored shirt and a multicolored scarf twisted around her neck. Over that she had on a charcoal sweater-coat.
Cars lined the lane when she arrived, and she had to park nearly out at the road and walk in. Country music came from a stereo somewhere, getting louder as she approached the house. From a hundred yards she could make out the sign draped over the eaves of the front porch: Welcome Home.
Melissa smiled and felt a lump rise in her throat. It was a good thing they’d done here, and so typical of Cadence Creek. Despite the lack of privacy, and the fact that everyone was aware of her history, she knew she didn’t want to live anywhere else. It was home. She just hoped they’d be as welcoming to her if and when she showed up expecting a baby.
She should know anytime. Her period had been due a few days ago and she’d done a home pregnancy test right away. It had been negative, but she wasn’t giving up hope. The fact that she hadn’t started yet was a good sign. False negatives happened.
But for tonight she was not going to think about it. Instead she was going to focus on enjoying herself.
She went straight to the open garage and put her dessert on a table along with the rest—a staggering array of cakes, pies and pans of unnamed things that generally started out with a graham-cracker crust and ended with whipped cream on top. There was a carousel of gorgeous-looking cupcakes, too, which had probably come from Callum and Avery.
Mel said hello to the Diamond family couples—Sam and Angela, and Tyson and Clara—before moving on to their hired hand, Rhys Bullock, and then Callum and Avery. Amy had come with a date that Melissa didn’t recognize, and she gave a wave across the yard. Finally she reached Stu and Cheryl, both of whom were beaming.
Mel reached up and hugged Stu. “Happy housewarming.”
He squeezed her back. “Thanks. This community...” He just shook his head, overcome with emotion.
“I know,” she replied. “And Stu, don’t think we all don’t realize that you’d do the same for any of us.” She turned her attention to Cheryl. In her early forties, his wife was an attractive woman with a few gray strands in her hair and a little extra weight around her middle from bearing her children. She had a rough time of it with her MS, but tonight her wheelchair was tucked away and she was making do with just a cane as she enjoyed the party.
“Cheryl,” Melissa said warmly, reaching out and squeezing her arm. “How do you like your new house?”
Cheryl smiled. “It’s beautiful. The kids already have their rooms picked out. And everything on the main floor makes it so much easier for me.” She leaned against Stu, who put his arm around her. “We’ve got furniture coming on Monday. I haven’t been this excited since we got married and moved into our first apartment.”
Mel’s heart gave a little pang as she watched the two of them. The couple personified wedding vows, in particular the loving and cherishing part, and in the sickness and in health. She hoped they knew how lucky they were. In one way it was reassuring to know th
at sort of love truly did exist. In another it was a letdown to know that at one time she’d made those promises and meant them, and it still hadn’t been enough.
Stu gave a nod at something behind her and she turned around. Cooper was standing before a huge metal grill, laughing at something Rhys was saying.
“I don’t know how I’ll ever repay Coop, though,” Stu mused. “He’s a good boss. And a better friend. I know how much he had to do with this project, and I know he’s responsible for tonight.”
Melissa’s eyes were drawn to the sight of Coop laughing as he shut the lid on the grill. As if he’d known she was watching, his gaze lifted and met hers, and he gave an almost imperceptible nod and touched the brim of his hat.
It was utterly unfair that her heart pattered.
“Excuse me,” she murmured, moving away and out of Coop’s line of vision. “I think I’m going to get a drink.”
She meandered over to the folding tables set up with paper plates, cutlery and cups, and coolers underneath. Instead of taking a cup, she popped the top on a can of soda and took a drink.
“Melissa, dear, how are you?”
She spun to find Molly Diamond behind her, wearing a broad grin.
“Molly. I’m fine, how are you?” She went forward and gave the older woman a hug.
“Oh, I’m right as rain. Got a couple of grandbabies and another on the way, and Callum and Avery are around a lot with Nell. They keep me busy. Keep me young.”
“At least you have grandkids,” another voice grumbled.
Melissa laughed and turned. “Oh my goodness. Hello, Mrs. Ford.” Cooper’s mother. Mel had spent hours in her kitchen when she and her gang had been kids, hanging out after school or getting together for movies on a Friday night. They’d been partial to horror flicks, Mel recalled, and Jean had always provided popcorn and potato chips.
“Call me Jean, like you used to,” Coop’s mother ordered. “Haven’t seen you around much, Melissa. You keeping busy?”
