Whatever You Say_A Highland Springs Romance

by Leigh Fleming

  He lifted the bill of his dirty ball cap, shook out his over-grown, sandy-colored hair, and replaced the hat before turning around and giving her that soul-deep stare.

  “I will when you take a breath,” he said.

  “Fine.” She uncrossed her arms and held them tight against her sides.

  “I’m Brody Fisk.” He removed his tan leather glove and extended his hand to her. She shook it, feeling the firm pressure in his grip and a strange warmth in her chest. “Somebody been kicking your cat?”

  “What? I don’t have a cat.” Kate pulled her hand back and cleared her throat as Brody walked toward his truck, loaded several logs in the crook of his arm, and arranged them on the pallet. She was presented with his wide-shouldered, contoured back as he bent over and placed the logs tightly in a row. She couldn’t hold back another moment and stomped her foot, frustrated at his cool, unaffected response to her questions.

  “How do you know who I am? How do you know my grandmother?” She reached up and tugged on the thin earbud cord. “Are you going to answer me or not?”

  He dropped the last log in place and leaned against the trunk of the oak tree. His sandy hair peeked below his hat, nearly touching his shoulders. He rested his foot against the tree trunk and Kate looked down at his scuffed leather boots.

  She huffed out a sigh, took a step back, and said, “I asked how you know my grandmother and how you knew my name. And for the last time, why are you bringing this wood?”

  “I brought your grandmother wood last year and figured she’d need more. You don’t have to pay me and neither does she.” He scratched his chin, making a sandpaper-on-wood sound, then continued. “You’ll probably want to keep the fireplace going because her house isn’t very well insulated.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve been inside.”

  “You have?”

  He blew out a sigh and readjusted his cap. “Have you ever heard your grandmother mention her friend Imogene?” He leaned over and picked up a crisp, brown oak leaf, twirling it between his fingers.

  “Yes, I remember Imogene. I met her years ago.”

  “She was my grandmother. And I knew who you were because your grandmother talks about you all the time. As soon as you came storming out of the house, I knew it was you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Let’s just say your grandmother described you well.” The leaf fluttered to the ground as he pushed off from the tree, a slight grin tugging at his lips.

  “What? But Gram—she would never say anything negative about me.”

  “Who says she said anything negative?” Brody turned, replaced his ear buds, and strolled to his pickup, where he loaded more wood in his arms.

  Kate stalked back to the house, letting the back door slam on her way in. Annie was waiting for her, still stationed at the window.

  “Well, how’d it go? What’s he like? Is he as hot as he looks from here?”

  “Aren’t you practically engaged or something? What would Kip say if he heard you talking like that?” She made a hasty retreat to the living room, where she adjusted the thermostat for the third time that day. Annie followed right behind.

  “I’m not blind and Kip has nothing to worry about, so spill it. What did he say?”

  “Apparently our grandmothers were best friends and he always brings Gram wood in the winter. He says her house is cold and I’ll need to keep a fire going. I don’t know how to build a fire.” She walked over to the brick fireplace with its white-painted mantel. She rested her hands on her hips and shook her head as if she’d never seen such a structure.

  “Perfect. Ask him to come in and show you how,” Annie said.

  “No way. I’ll freeze to death first.”

  “Why? What’s he like?”

  “Rude. Obstinate. That long hair and dirty hat—ugh.” Kate forced an exaggerated shudder, but remembered his dark mocha eyes and sinewy arms. The warmth she’d felt in her chest crept up into a blush on her cheeks.

  “Really? Not a sweet, southern gentleman? Didn’t take your breath away?”

  “Hardly. I’m convinced this town is full of nothing but weirdos and creeps.”

  “I thought you loved Highland Springs.”

  “I love visiting my grandmother and yes, the town is nice, but some of the people—” Kate tipped her head toward the backyard and then bent down to study the fireplace. “Well, suffice it to say, I’m not asking for his help.”

  “Hmm, I don’t know. I think with those muscles he could’ve swept you off your feet and carried you to his mountain cabin, where he would make sweet love to you in front of a roaring fire.”

  “What are you talking about, Annie? You think this is some bodice-ripping romance novel? Are you insane?” She picked up the heavy metal poker and tapped it against the grate.

  “I just thought since you might be here for a while, it would be fun for you to have a little fling.”

  “With who? Or is it whom?” She glanced over her shoulder as Annie stretched across the sofa. “Anyway, I’m here to take care of my grandmother, not have a fling. And I have work to do. Besides, I seriously doubt there’s anyone interesting with whom to have a fling. I don’t plan to be here long. Drop it, would you?”

  Kate reached inside the fireplace and pushed the flue handle, causing a torrent of black crumbs and an old bird’s nest to fall onto the log grate.

  “First thing tomorrow morning, I’ll call to have Wi-Fi installed so I can search how to build a fire. I’m sure there’s a video on YouTube.”

  “Shame. There’s a perfectly healthy, warm-blooded expert in your backyard who could show you how.”

  “Like I said…I’ll freeze to death first.”

  The door bell rang out a brief Mozart composition and Annie scurried to the door. A thin, blonde woman stood there holding an oblong casserole dish in her oven-mitted hands.

  “Hi. Kate?”

  “No, sorry, I’m her friend Annie.”

  Kate came to the door, wiping the soot from her hands onto her jeans. “I’m Kate, can I help you?”

  “Oh, hi, I’m Riley from next door. I was the one who called about your grandma.”

  “Yes, of course. Thank you,” she said, not making a move to let her in. Annie returned from the kitchen wearing thick, rooster-adorned oven mitts and took the casserole from Riley’s hands.

  “Come on in. This smells delicious,” Annie said.

  Kate’s eyes bulged out at Annie and she shook her head, but Annie smiled sweetly back at her.

  Riley twisted her fingers and timidly stepped into the foyer. “So, um, how’s your grandma today?”

  “She’s doing better than expected. She broke her femur, you know, and has to go to the rehab center for a few weeks,” Kate said.

  “Oh, wow, I’m sorry to hear that. But she’ll get back home, right?”

  “I’m sure she will. No reason she shouldn’t. How long have you lived next door?”

  “Let’s see,” Riley rolled her eyes in her head as if to consult a calendar lodged in her brain. She took a not-so-subtle step toward the door. “It’s been…eight months. I moved here in February.”

  “What brought you to Highland Springs?”

  “Um, well…” Riley side-stepped toward the exit again, this time making no effort to hide her intentions, and reached for the doorknob. “Just needed a change of scenery.” She rushed onto the porch, saying over her shoulder, “I hope you like the casserole. Call if you need anything.” Before Kate could reply, she was gone.

  “She seems nice,” Annie said.

  Kate shook her head. “Didn’t you find her strange, like everyone else around here?”

  “How so?”

  “She couldn’t get out the door fast enough.”

  “Maybe she’s shy. Or, more likely, you made her nervous. Spending some time in this little town might be good for you.”

  “Oh, Annie, I wish I had your optimism.” She flicked the door knob to th
e locked position and walked toward the kitchen.

  “It’s not hard to achieve, you know. For instance, right now I’m wondering how that sexy mountain man is doing with the wood pile.” Annie scurried over to the window.

  “I hope he dropped a load on his foot.” Kate stood with her hands on her hips and took in the familiar surroundings. The house was small with only a kitchen, dining room, bathroom, and living room on the first floor, and two bedrooms and a bathroom on the second floor. It was an adorable Craftsman-style home set on a quiet residential block in downtown Highland Springs, within walking distance of Main Street. As a child, she had loved coming here, spending a month in the summer alone with her grandparents, getting spoiled with their affection and Gram’s mouth-watering cooking. It was a great place to visit, but she couldn’t imagine living here.

  It was hard to believe this tiny house was the only one her grandparents had ever owned, and was where they had raised her dad until he married her mom. Her parents were high school sweethearts…and Kate was living proof of their young love. Her mother was expecting before graduation. Passing up their dreams of college, her dad joined the navy and her mom started her life as a military wife. Because they’d missed their chance, Kate vowed to never let anything get in the way of her goals and dreams—a vow she’d made to her dad the day he died.

  “Nope, he’s not limping,” Annie said as she peered out the window. “It looks like he’s just about finished. All the new wood is stacked and he’s putting the old wood back on the pile.”

  “Good. I told him he needed to clean up the mess he was making.”

  Annie shook her head and turned to face Kate. “Did you ever think to simply say ‘thank you’?”

  “He was destroying her yard and I didn’t know who he was.”

  “Well, now you do, so why don’t you go out there and show some gratitude?”

  “Fine.” Obviously, Annie wouldn’t let it go, so Kate went outside to make her happy. Brody was picking up the last three logs from the pile in the yard when she said, “Thanks for bringing the wood. I’ll be sure to let Gram know you were here.”

  “Appreciate that.” He tipped his hat and walked toward his truck.

  “Okay.” She returned to the kitchen, letting the door shut behind her.

  “Well?” Annie said with a twinkle in her eye. “How’d it go?”

  “Annie,” she sighed. “Give up on your dream of me and the mountain man. He’s not my type, I’m not interested, and neither is he. And besides, I’m going to be busy while I’m here—too busy for a fling. Remember?”

  “Whatever you say.”

  FOUR

  Kate gripped the steering wheel and pressed the gas pedal to the floor, willing the car to keep moving forward, but all she got in response was sputtering and jerking and a dead stop. Since Annie had left to return to DC, she had driven Gram’s car several times without any problem.

  “Damn it.” She dropped her forehead to the steering wheel and let out a frustrated growl. Her grandmother’s 1995 Buick just might have seen its last trip, dying with her inside along a country road outside Highland Springs.

  She dug her cell phone out of her purse and attempted to search for a towing company. No service—no surprise. She climbed out of the car and spun three hundred sixty degrees while holding her cell phone in the air, hoping to find a connection somewhere, but there was nothing. With her back against the door, she squeezed her temples between her outstretched fingers and tried to think of what to do. The rehabilitation facility was another three miles north and it looked like walking was going to be the only way to get there. The wind was whipping across the grassy field and she knew it would be a long, cold trek in her leather jacket and high heeled boots.

  Just as she reached inside to get the bag of clothes she was bringing to Gram, she heard a vehicle in the distance and hoped it would be a nice person who could go for help. She shut the door and raised her hand as the pickup truck grew nearer.

  She let a string of unsavory words escape her lips, even as she plastered them into the semblance of a smile. Murphy’s Law just might have a sense of humor.

  “Having trouble?” Brody reached across the bench seat and rolled down the passenger-side window. His long hair was tucked under the same ball cap he had on the other day, but this time his thick arms were covered by a navy twill jacket.

  “Um, yeah. Gram’s car just gave out. I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

  “Where were you headed?”

  “The rehab center to visit Gram.” As much as she didn’t want to accept his help, she was praying Brody would give her a ride. She was shivering from the cold and wasn’t looking forward to the three-mile hike.

  “Hop in. I’ll take you.” He pushed open the door then eased back behind the wheel. “I’ll give Travis a call. He’ll tow it to his shop and see what’s wrong.”

  “How do you plan to do that? I couldn’t get a single bar out here.”

  “Yeah, cell service is spotty. I’ll call when we get to the center.”

  He shifted into first and rolled slowly down the unlined road. She looked behind her, through the back window at the mound of logs in the back, and then over at Brody, whose left arm was draped over the steering wheel while his right hand rested on the gearshift. He was looking straight ahead with steely concentration. She rubbed her bare hands across the tops of her thighs, letting the friction thaw her already-frigid fingers.

  “Where were you headed, if you don’t mind my asking?” she said, breaking the tomb-like silence.

  “I don’t mind.” He gave her a brief glance and then went back to studying the road ahead. “Taking some wood to a lady I know.”

  “Do you only have female customers?”

  “I don’t have customers. Just people I help out.” He lifted his cap and repositioned it on his head.

  “But how do you make any money if you don’t sell the wood? You don’t sound like much of a businessman.”

  “Who said I was a businessman?”

  She sighed and turned toward him, laying her bent knee on the seat between them. “Okay, ‘lumberjack’ then. How do you live? How do you pay the bills? How do you put food on the table?”

  “Got a lot of questions, don’t you?” He made a left turn onto a wide gravel lane that trailed through a thick stand of trees. A panicked tingle crept up her spine as she looked frantically through the passenger side window. There was nothing around—no houses, no stores, nothing but trees.

  “Wait, where are you going? The rehab center was on that road—the one we were on.” The gravel lane dipped down a steep hill to nowhere. “Where are you taking me?” She looked over at Brody as a white-hot warning traveled up her back. She could feel her eyes bulging as she saw him shake his head with a small grin on his face.

  “Listen, Mr. Fisk—”

  “Brody.”

  “I should warn you that whatever you’re planning…you won’t get away with it. I know tae kwon do.”

  “Is that right?”

  “I’m more than capable of protecting my—” She gripped the dashboard and braced herself against the back of the seat. As though she were descending the steep drop of a roller coaster, she locked her arms as the truck’s brakes strained and the engine roared with each downshift. “Oh my god, are your brakes going to hold out?”

  “Hopefully.”

  “What hellish pit are we driving into?” Surging with fear, her body couldn’t decide which was scarier: dropping to her death or being trapped out here with the mountain man.

  “We’ll be there soon.” His lips pressed into a strained grin as he shoved the gearshift forward.

  “Look, if we don’t die from this drop, let me tell you my grandmother will call the police if I’m not there in a few minutes. She was expecting me by ten-thirty.” The truck had slowed to no more than five miles an hour and she considered jumping out, but reconsidered when she saw how close they were driving to the edge of a steep hill on her right. “I
’m an attorney. You’ll be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.” Her voice squeaked and she squeezed her eyes shut when the truck rumbled over a pothole, sending her bouncing off the seat. They finally leveled off and she opened her eyes to an old iron bridge crossing a wide creek. The opposite hillside was dotted with a dozen tiny cabins and single-wide trailers. “What is this place?”

  “Cash’s Holler.”

  “And…why are we here?” Kate released the dashboard from her white-knuckled grip and rubbed her damp palms on her jeans. She’d always had a fear of heights or maybe a fear of falling. Whichever it was, the last few minutes had left her terrified.

  “See that wood back there?” Brody brought the truck to a stop in front of the one-lane bridge and let another pickup cross. He turned toward her, resting his right elbow on the back of the seat and lifting up the bill of his cap. “Like I said, I’m delivering it to a nice old lady who needs it. Now, I’m not sure what you thought I was going to do or what was going to happen,” His dark eyes bored into hers as her heart thumped in her chest. “But you can rest assured I won’t be committing any crimes today.”

  He dropped the truck into first and eased it across the bridge. With her cheeks surely burning red, Kate turned toward the window and took in the scene before her: unpainted, one-room shacks lining the creek, broken down cars resting on cinder blocks, mongrel dogs tied to tree stumps and rusted-out machinery rounded out the scene. It was like she had stepped into a movie—one in which something horrible was about to happen. Brody followed a narrow, semi-graveled path and pulled into the muddy yard in front of one of the cabins.

  “I’ll just be a few minutes. As soon as I unload the wood I’ll take you to see your grandmother. Just wait here.”

  “Maybe I should help you.” Kate looked through the windshield at the rundown cabin.

  “It’s okay. I got this.” He smiled and she watched his eyes trail from her jacket down to her jeans. “Wouldn’t want you to get dirty.”

  As soon as he climbed out, she began to fume. What did he mean by that? Was he implying she was some weak woman who couldn’t stack a few logs?