Veiled Gems (Diamond Knot Dreams Book 1)

by Mary Manners

  Veiled Gems

  Mary Manners

  VEILED GEMS

  Copyright 2017[

  Mary Manners

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Cover Art by Heaven’s Touch Designs, Delia Latham

  This book is a work of fiction. Characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, places, events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Warning: No part of this book may be copied, scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means without the express, written permission of the author. Unauthorized duplication and/or distribution is illegal. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Published by Sweet Dreams Publications

  First Edition, 2017

  Published in the United States of America

  Edited by Delia Latham

  Contact information:

  Mary Manners: sunriserun63@aol.com

  Table of Contents

  Chapters:

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  ***Author’s Note***

  More Titles by Mary Manners

  1

  Lila Brooks shielded her eyes with one hand to peer down the boulevard. Sunlight dappled through graceful branches of weeping cherry trees, turning the pavement to a shimmer of diamonds. Warm, generous rays teased Lila’s eyes and heated her skin through a pressed linen skirt and coral blouse. A gentle breeze carried the musky scent of rich, damp earth and moderated the sultry heat. Hair along the nape of Lila’s neck danced and tickled.

  The day was as close to perfect as anyone could wish for. Fresh-mown lawns hinted at spring. Yet, the verdant landscape did little to soften Lila’s anxious mood as she paced a length of sidewalk.

  Morgan Haynes, the builder who had come highly recommended by her friend Avery’s father, was late. Lila frowned. Long-awaited renovations for her bridal boutique were poised to begin and she was anxious to get the work underway. She’d spent the better part of a year researching properties and had finally settled on the quaint East Tennessee town of Clover Cove. Her initial visit to the area revealed an influx of growth that would easily support new business, yet the community took pride in maintaining its hometown, neighborly spirit. Subsequent visits, followed by a permanent relocation several months ago, merely served to enhance Lila’s intuition.

  She’d planned and labored long months to bring her well-laid designs for the wedding shop to fruition. Now that the property had been purchased and the construction loan signed and sealed, she didn’t want any further delays. An overhaul would transform the majestic three-story Victorian house into a state-of-the-art bridal showplace.

  It had been nearly three months since Lila had staked a placard, now slightly yellowed and fading a bit from the effects of inclement weather, in the lawn beside the Victorian’s front stairs.

  Coming Soon…

  Diamond Knot Dreams: Your One-stop Wedding Shop

  Simple and to the point…but coming Soon proved the operative phrase. Lila wanted to complete this project with every attention to detail, but her patience was wearing thin. Excitement took over. She longed to get the boutique up and running. Surely she could find a balance to get everything done well and within a timely fashion.

  It would take a village to coax the business to fruition. So far she and Morgan were the only two signed up for the team…and Morgan was AWOL. No phone call, no text, no email.

  Where was he?

  Lila felt as if she’d known Morgan for a lifetime, yet she had stumbled upon him merely months ago and quite by accident. After confiding to her former college roommate and lifelong friend, Avery Lakin, her frustration in finding a builder who was both willing and qualified to tackle the boutique project, Avery spurred to action. Less than twenty-four hours later Lila received a call from Avery’s dad, who supplied Morgan’s information and personally vouched for him as a top-of-the-line builder. Additionally, Morgan specialized in transforming older buildings while maintaining the heart of their original beauty.

  Lila snatched the timely lead. A quick phone call to Morgan’s Nashville office set things into motion. Via countless emails and phone conversations, she found Morgan to be forthright and dependable. Even more importantly, he seemed capable of tackling the project while respecting the confines of her budget. His sense of humor and the natural ease of their communication proved an added bonus.

  As the weeks passed, Lila found herself looking forward to Morgan’s calls for more than the business aspect. His deep, southern accent intrigued her and Lila knew from his website photos that he had the looks to match. He’d seemed as eager as she to finally meet in person and get this project started.

  Until today. Where was he?

  Lila gazed down the boulevard once again. A mockingbird in the tree across the way warbled through its repertoire of calls. The branches of a weeping cherry quaked as the bird swooped to a lower limb to continue his lonesome serenade. He seemed to be calling to her—or perhaps calling for Morgan. But his cry did no good at all. Traffic along the road moved sparsely this time of mid-afternoon. Not so much as a motorcycle or even a bicycle crossed her path as she waited. Lila hoped to enhance the traffic pattern with a clever marketing campaign. She planned to welcome a healthy flow of vehicles as soon as the boutique opened its doors.

  Lila nibbled a fingernail as she envisioned Morgan snarled in a traffic jam. She’d learned the hard way that the I-40 corridor between downtown Nashville and Clover Cove could be daunting as rush-hour approached.

  Or perhaps he’d changed his mind about coming…

  She dismissed the thought as she turned her attention back to the house. The Victorian, with its drooping sleepy-eyed shutters, languished like a neglected woman waiting for her soulmate to come along so they might embark together on the adventure of a lifetime. A wide, graveled area at the front entrance would, with some serious TLC, serve as an ample parking lot. The weed-infested area led to a broad staircase that opened onto a sweeping wrap-around porch just made for sweet tea and sunshine. The flooring and rails would benefit from a pressure-washing and fresh coat of paint. Lila’s imagination easily produced a cluster of rocking chairs accented by the colorful spill of potted wave petunias.

  Her plan to offer a down-home southern flair, along with impeccable customer service, was sure to draw clients to the bridal boutique like honey draws flies.

  Ample, panoramic windows at the front of the wood-framed structure offered a wash of natural light along the interior. Original hardwood flooring, stripped and polished to a high sheen, would complement the many displays she planned to showcase.

  Lila’s pulse thrummed with anticipation. The building offered so much to love…she found it hard to believe this property had sat vacant for several years. But the structure’s crowning detail was a pair of stout, regal turrets. One perched along the east side of the front and a second adorned the back. Both drew the eye in an enchanting architectural display.

  The house was a beautiful, intriguing poem whose architectural lines pleased even the most discerning eye. The structure lacked only a thorough overhaul of its inner workings. She and Morgan had agreed that updated wiring and plumbing would be a good place to start. In addition, Lila had requested the removal of a few non-weight-bearing walls. The renovation would open the first floor into a spacious showroom.

  Morgan had assured her during their many p
hone conferences and emails that the list of repairs would be easy enough to complete before spring eased to summer. But Lila still felt more than a bit uneasy when she thought of the copious notes and details they’d sifted through. There were just so many things to consider.

  Elephants danced a jig through her belly. She splayed a hand to calm the nerves. Had she thought things out well enough? Had she considered every possible detail? A million things could go wrong with this project and any delay could easily cripple her financially. She’d tossed every last penny of her savings into the mix and gambled on a small business loan, as well, to chase this dream to the finish line.

  Even so, the house’s peeling paint and weather-warped deck boards did nothing to dispel Lila’s excitement. She saw beyond the Victorian’s dust and fractured plaster to the beauty locked inside. The house sat like a princess on her throne and Lila vowed to add a bushel of crowning touches.

  But the work couldn’t begin until the tardy Mr. Morgan Haynes showed himself. And if that didn’t happen soon, Lila would surely lose her mind. She reached into her purse for her cellphone and checked the screen for a voicemail, a text. At this point she’d even settle for a flimsy smoke signal.

  Any sign of life…

  She found nothing but a blank screen. Lila caught her lower lip between her teeth and grimaced as she dropped the phone back into her purse. Pacing the length of the sidewalk did nothing to calm the rising tide that turned her stomach. Worry set in. From their many phone conversations Lila knew it was so out of character for Morgan to miss an appointment time. She feared he might be snarled in a ghastly pile-up along the interstate.

  The thought tangled her nerves. She feared she might never meet Morgan face-to-face. The project aside, something more drew her to him…something she couldn’t begin to explain. Could she possibly have feelings for a man she hadn’t even met? One she’d merely conversed with?

  Often. Daily. Sometimes several times a day.

  She sighed and paused to gather her bearings. The sidewalk swam beneath her feet and tears flooded her eyes as she imagined him in harm’s way. Tears? Really?

  Surprised at her own emotional reaction, Lila gave her head a firm shake. The humidity must be getting to her. She drew a deep breath and willed her pulse to steady. As her senses knitted back together, a thought came—perhaps she’d do better to pray instead of fretting over something beyond her control.

  She dipped her head and was about to close her eyes and surrender herself when a flash of red swooped around the corner. The flashy sports car gleamed like a ripe habanero pepper as sunlight bounced from the waxed paint. The ragtop fanned open. Music blared over the muffled, steady rumble of a high-powered engine.

  Lila pressed one hand to her ribcage and drew a huge breath of relief.

  Morgan—he’s OK. He’s arrived safely.

  The car approached with the saucy swagger of a confident driver at the wheel. Lila lifted her sunglasses from the bridge of her nose, propped them atop her head and headed toward the vehicle. Sunlight stung her eyes, causing tears to gather again. She swiped away the moisture and blinked hard to clear her vision. She wanted a good look at the man to whom she had entrusted her life savings—and her future in Clover Cove.

  His dark hair danced in the breeze. Though his voice lost its battle with the thrum of music, his moving lips told her he sang right along with the melody. His eyes were shielded by reflective wire-frame sunglasses, but a kelly-green polo shirt showcased sinewy forearms as well as a broad, well-defined terrain of shoulders. The guy obviously knew his way around heavy equipment.

  Lila planted her hands on her hips as the car skidded to a stop alongside the curb. She waited, tapping polished fingernails along the top of her thighs, for Morgan to lower the radio’s volume. Unaffected by her piercing gaze, he belted out the final verse of the song.

  Now she heard him. Oh, yes indeed. She narrowed her gaze and made a point to tap the face of her watch.

  No matter. He actually had the nerve to wink at her as the last note resonated.

  Really? Really?

  Flashing a magnetic smile as if he didn’t have a care in the world, he switched off the ignition. The music faded, but he continued the tune with a totally original verse.

  “Are you finished yet? Are you done belting out your ridiculous rendition of that song?” Lila felt her blood pressure soar to a dangerous level. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you hoped to be discovered by a talent scout.”

  “Wow…” Morgan twirled his key ring on one finger. “So you think I’m ready for the big stage?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” Though her nerves still fired with the thought of waiting on him, Lila felt the tickle of a smile along the corners of her lips. She had to admit that although Morgan would probably never win a talent show for his singing—much less an award for punctuality—he possessed a healthy dose of charisma that she found endearing. “Saying you’re ready for crooning in the shower would be a stretch, and that’s only if no one is listening.”

  “Ouch.” The smile went flat as he opened the driver’s door and unfolded himself from the seat. Long, lean legs exited first, and the rest of him followed suit. “You don’t mince words, do you?”

  “Not when it comes to my business…or my money.”

  “I’ll file that memo for future reference.” He tapped his left temple. “By the way, I’m Morgan Haynes.”

  He offered his hand. Huge, warm, callused. The guy was no stranger to physical labor. Yet she sensed a gentleness as his fingers melded with hers.

  For a long moment, neither of them let go.

  “Morgan…I assumed as much.” With a tinge of regret, Lila drew her hand back. “I recognize you from the photo on your website. I’m pleased to finally meet you. And, as you’ve most likely suspected, I’m Lila Brooks.”

  “Lila, yes.” He stepped onto the sidewalk as his gaze drank her in. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”

  “Thank you.” She nodded curtly. “For the record, you’re late.”

  “Actually, I’m two minutes early.” Morgan smoothed the pad of his thumb over the face of his wristwatch to prove his point. “Two and a half minutes, to be exact.” He ran a hand through his hair, coaxing dark, windblown waves back into place. A shadow of stubble grazed his jawline, connecting at a deep cleft near the center of his chin. When he removed his sunglasses, smoky-blue eyes tagged hers and held tight. “But if you’d like me to get back in my car and drive away, then return in a few minutes so you can be right, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

  “No, that’s certainly not necessary.” Lila gathered her hair as it danced in the breeze to veil her eyes and tease her cheeks. She wished she had thought to secure it with an elastic band, as was her habit, before heading out that morning. “It’s just that in my universe if you’re not at least ten minutes early, you’re late.”

  “Well, I obviously don’t reside in your universe, so one of us is going to have to consider a change of zip code.” Morgan turned back toward the car. “And—just for the record, since we’re filing mental notes—you need to know that I don’t do well taking orders from high maintenance control-freaks.”

  “High maintenance…control freaks?” Lila stuttered. “Who’s a control freak?”

  “Take a look.” Morgan grinned as he tapped the car’s side-view mirror. Lila was horrified to find her image gazing back. “If the reflection fits…”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’m not high maintenance. ” Lila shook her head to reinforce the fact and pressed a hand to his forearm. Sinewy muscles screamed back at her. The guy had obviously spent substantial time wielding construction tools. “At least not usually. My current attitude is merely a reflection of frazzled nerves, and I suppose that’s really not your fault.”

  “You’ve got that right.”

  “OK, I’m sorry.” Lila broached a weary smile. “This project has me on edge. Can you cut me a little slack?”

  “I can do that.” M
organ’s gaze slid to her hand still resting along his arm. “And though the jury’s still out on the high maintenance issue, I completely understand the nerves. This is a huge undertaking.” His gaze shifted to the Victorian. “She’s a beauty in the rough, that’s for sure. We’re going to accomplish great things together…a total transformation.”

  “You think so?”

  “I do, or I wouldn’t be here.”

  “Right. I’m sorry for starting off on the wrong foot and for being so snippity with you.”

  “Snippity? Is that a real word?”

  “It is now.” Lila removed her hand from his arm and stepped back. “Like I said, I’m just…a little on edge and anxious to get going.”

  “Then, let’s get to it.” He started toward the house.

  Lila fell in step beside him. His stride was long, and she struggled to keep pace. She hadn’t made it half-a-dozen steps when the heel of her navy pump caught in a sidewalk crack. She stumbled—right into Morgan.

  “Whoa, there.” Without missing a beat, he caught her against his chest. For a moment she found herself in a tilt-a-whirl of sensations. “I’ve got you.”

  A terrain of muscles…the clean scent of soap…a hint of cotton.

  She steadied herself and blew a wisp of bangs from her eyes as she slanted a gaze upwards to find Morgan staring at her. “Well, that’s just peachy…nothing seems to be going as planned today.”

  “Why don’t you take a breath? We’ll slow the pace a little.” He set her firmly on her feet and took a step back. “Better?”

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  He offered her a hand as his lips curved into a lopsided smile. Again, Lila found evidence of a strong work ethic along the surface of his palm; calluses lined his fingers. “You don’t have to go it alone anymore—I’m here now. You’ve got a lot on your plate, so let me share the burden. Just keep in mind that restoring a century-old house takes a tender, patient touch—not a bulldozer.”