He reached out and took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. His touch made her feel like a school girl with a crush as her knees felt weak. “But then I knew you would.”
“And how did you know I would?” she had to ask.
He turned and studied her intently. “I’m a good judge of character. I saw the drive in your eyes. I knew once you accepted the challenge, you would take on the task and run with it. And you wouldn’t stop until you crossed the finish line and won.”
“You knew all that just from looking into my eyes?” His hand in hers was so warm. She could have sworn his heat rose out of the back of her blouse.
“I did. You don’t need my permission for everything. And just as I know you’ll do a great job, I’m also hoping that if you put in your own touches and a few of your likes, you’ll come and visit after the house is finished.”
Was that his way of saying he liked her, that he wanted her to be around after the job was done? Torrie wasn’t sure what she thought about that. And yet, he was holding her hand. She hadn’t seen him hold anyone else’s hand. None of that mattered. What mattered was the house and job she’d been hired to do. “The arched cherry cabinets then. I’ll put the order in today. I hope you don’t mind, but the construction foreman, Rex Walker, and I made this layout of the kitchen and chose what size cabinets should be where.” She held up the drawing she’d been carrying so long in her other hand that it felt soft with her perspiration.
Like the cabinet picture in the catalog, he barely glanced at the plan. And he never let go of her other hand. “It looks good to me.”
This time, she didn’t argue. “I did some checking into the history. The original counters in the old kitchen were tile, but these days, marble seems to be the thing to have. And frankly, I think marble would look great in there. Which kind would you like, the dark or the light? I had both samples sitting in there. Did you see them?”
“The lighter one.”
She was surprised he chose, that he didn’t say she should choose. It didn’t matter that she would have chosen the lighter one, too. “I’ll order that today, too. The plumbing is all in place. All we need is some new fixtures—I mean all you need is some new fixtures.”
He smiled at her choice of words. “And I can still have one of those hot water taps like you have in your office?”
She smiled and didn’t point out that it was the first thing he’d ever requested besides asking it be done to the original stateliness and the piano. “Of course. I already have one, just waiting to be installed after the counter.”
“Did you find a desk for this room yet?” he asked.
“No, not yet, not anything I feel fits. Except maybe for the desk in my office,” she joked.
“How much do you want for it?” he asked. He might have been joking, but there was no laughter in his words.
He stared so deeply into her eyes, Torrie nearly told him he could have it for free. Then he grinned and squeezed her hand again. “I merely jest with you, Torrie. Keep looking. I know you’ll find the right desk for out here. Has the piano been ordered?”
“Yes, I ordered it the day after you came to my office. It will take another week or two before it can be delivered, and the company will call when it is to be delivered.” Torrie finally breathed, realizing she’d been holding it after the way he looked into her eyes.
“You’ve skipped lunch again,” he put in.
She glanced at her watch, noting that it was well after noon. “Again?”
“I noticed you skipped it yesterday, too.”
“I didn’t even see you yesterday,” she pointed out. “When did you see me?”
“I saw you.”
And he looked at her now as if he mentally undressed her.
She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “Yes, well, skipping lunch is easy to do here. It’s easy to fall into my work.”
“As you work for me, I ask that you please take care of yourself. I’d hate if you fell ill.”
She experienced yet another speechless moment. For a long moment, she found herself unable to look away from him. She forced in another breath. “Well, now that we have the cabinets taken care of, I need to see how Susan’s doing in the dining room. And by the way, I set some pictures of dining room sets in the kitchen, too. Any of them can be delivered late next week. I thought that would give enough time to get the flooring down.”
“Excellent.” He still watched her. “Just pick one. Shall I order sandwiches?”
It wasn’t the first time he’d ordered food. She smiled at his thoughtfulness. He made sure no one was hungry or thirsty. “Sure. If that’s what you’d like.” She knew just which one she thought would look perfect in the dining room. She slipped out of his grip, and ignored the cold that swept through her with the absence of his hand. As she stepped back into the kitchen, she nearly ran right into Rex Walker who was coming toward her.
“Oh, excuse me.” He stopped suddenly to avoid slamming into her.
“Excuse me,” she said, hating the way she sounded breathless. She tried to deny it, but found it impossible—she had never before reacted to any client or any man for that matter the way she reacted to William Dalton.
“I thought I heard you talking,” Rex said after a few seconds when they both regained their equilibrium.
“I was talking to Mr. Dalton.” Torrie was always careful to remain on a very business-like plane regarding Will Dalton when she talked to any of the work crew.
“Oh, I haven’t had the opportunity to meet him yet. Where is he?” Rex asked.
“He’s in the conservatory.” She turned and popped her head through the doorway to look around.
Will was gone. The door leading to the garden was standing slightly ajar. That was odd.
“That’s weird. He must have gone out,” Torrie said absently, wondering what was so important out there. He had to have heard her talking to Rex. Surely, he’d want to meet the foreman working on his house. “You’ll have to meet him later. I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunity. He seems to always be about.” Torrie forced a smile and felt as if she stumbled through her explanation. She would have thought the last thing Will would be was rude. She glanced out the windows, searching for him or for any sudden reason he would need to leave and go out there. She saw neither the man nor the reason. She swallowed through a tight throat, just thinking about the way Will had looked at her and the way his look made the back of her neck so hot. She was a grown woman, not a hormonal teenager. “What did you need?” she forced out, turning her attention back to Rex.
“I just wanted to let you know we’re repairing some places in the plasterwork in that ballroom while we put up the trim. It just made sense to work on all the wall work at the same time.”
“That’s great,” Torrie said. “Do you have everything you need?”
“So far. Do you plan on wallpapering that entire ballroom? We can coat it all with flat finish if you do.”
Torrie took a deep breath. “I’m thinking on that. It’s a lot of paper.”
“You could wallpaper just one wall and paint the rest.”
“Actually, I think I’ll have the bottom half of the every wall papered and paint the top with a chair rail where the two meet,” she said, the idea suddenly coming to her. “I think that’s a lot of how it looked in the photograph Mr. Dalton showed me. I also think the south wall was only painted, no wall paper. So we’ll do that, too.”
“All right, we’ll put flat on the bottom half on just three walls.”
He was gone a moment later, and Torrie looked around. Then she moved back to the windows and looked out at the trees and the garden, still seeing no sign of Will.
But he lived up to his promise and sandwiches were delivered fifteen minutes later as Torrie was in the dining room with Susan Schmidt.
“Gosh, at this rate, you’ll be done with the dining room by the end of the day,” Torrie commented before she took a bite of a sandwich. “Take a break a
nd have a sandwich.”
“I think I will,” Susan replied, wiping her hands. “And I see where the wallpaper you ordered for two hallways upstairs all came in, too. I can start on them tomorrow if you like,” Susan offered.
“I’d like. You’re doing an excellent job.”
“And Mr. Dalton is paying me well. I’m glad to see this house being fixed up. I always thought it was such a waste,” Susan said, before she followed Torrie’s lead and unwrapped a sandwich and took a bite. “And this is nice—the walls are straight and the plaster finish works well with the paper. So it goes up easily. It also helps having empty rooms to keep my stuff in. I’m not working around furniture or trim or fixtures.”
“Susan, have you ever heard any noises while you’ve worked here?”
“Sure, there’s hammering and drilling and scraping and workers telling jokes going on all the time.” Susan took another bite before she set her sandwich down on the open wrapper, picked up a wet sponge and wiped down the wall she’d just finished.
“No, I mean like the sound of shoveling coming from the cellar.”
“Do, do, do, do…” Susan sang as if they were suddenly part of a scary movie. Then teasingly, she raised her brows and said in a warning voice of whisper, “Whatever you do, don’t go in the cellar…”
“I mean it, I’m not kidding. Have you ever heard anything from the cellar?”
Susan stopped and grew serious. “No, I haven’t heard anything from the cellar, but then I haven’t really been close to the cellar door, either. I’ll keep my ears open and let you know. Is there work going on down there?”
“Not anything I’ve ordered.”
“You did order the house to be made structurally sound, though, right?” Susan used her clean hand to take another bite of her sandwich.
“I did.” Torrie had to agree.
“Well, maybe the engineer you hired came and checked things out down there. Or maybe it’s the utility guys. I’ve seen a few around.”
“Yeah, I thought of that, too. And I think if either of those were the case, they should be finished in the cellar by now. I just wondered.”
“I know this house was pretty creepy at first and I hesitated walking through the door,” Susan shared. “But now, I think it’s really neat. Make a few fires in the fireplaces, and it will feel like home. But if I hear anything downstairs in the cellar, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.”
Susan quickly finished her sandwich before she picked up another piece of precut paper and laid it out on the long table she used to brush on glue. “So what’s your next project here?”
“I’m going up to check out the three smaller bedrooms upstairs, see what ideas I can come up with so after you get the paper up down here, you can get started up there.”
“What about the master bedroom?”
“It’s off limits since Mr. Dalton is living there. He’s assured me it’s livable. I haven’t even seen it except on drawn plans,” Torrie said.
“Well, let me know what you order for the bedrooms, and I’ll try and get up to see what they look like and how hard they may be.” Susan carried her wet piece of paper toward the wall.
“I’ll see you later.” Torrie moved away, leaving her to her work and headed up the stairs. The floor here was freshly sanded, stained and varnished hardwood. The new banister was smooth beneath her hand as she made her way up. The fresh paint that now coated the walls filled the house with a clean scent.
At the top of the stairs, she entered the first of the three smaller bedrooms—even though they were anything but small. She wanted to work this one first because it had a window seat and a small ledge area that went over the stairs on the other side of the wall. “So much potential…” she let out in a breath. “I think I’ll decorate this room with a young girl in mind…Tiny flowers in the wallpaper, pink curtains, a canopy bed with a pink quilt, stained white furniture, shelves for dolls and books…” She spoke as she stepped into the room, the vision so sudden and complete in her mind.
And as she thought ‘dolls,’ she stepped on a doll on the floor just inside the door.
The doll was very pretty, having China hands and face. She wore a dusty dress and matching bonnet that had once been royal blue. And she stared up at Torrie with a wide-eyed stare the color a brilliant summer-day sky. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t step on your face or hands. I might have broken them.” She looked at the doll closely as she carefully dusted her off and checked the dress for any torn seams. “And where did you come from?” Torrie said out loud. “One of the workmen must have found you and put you in here.” She smiled down at the doll as if the doll could actually see her smile. “That workman must have known just as I do that this room is meant for a little girl.” She looked around as she continued talking as if the doll could really listen. “What do you think? Pink flowers in the wallpaper? A pink quilt on the bed? A little table and chairs over there for tea parties? A loft above the stairs for a sleepover? A fat cushion on the window seat so the girl of this room can sit there and read her favorite books?”
Of course the doll did not reply.
But Torrie pretended it did. “I’m glad you agree. I’m going to go pick out wallpaper right now.” She stepped further into the room. “We’ll start on this room next. And I’ll make sure you have your own chair for the tea party.”
Carefully, she set the doll on the ledge at the far end of the room that was over the stairs, making sure it wouldn’t fall off and possibly break from any vibration of the ongoing work.
“For now you can sit here. And if any of the workmen handle you improperly, you let me know.”
Then she went down to her ‘office’ in the parlor where her laptop was set up on a make-shift desk and various samples lay about to look at pink flowered wallpaper.
It was well past five when Torrie finished with all the phone calls. She ordered a small round table and four matching chairs she found online, a bed, an antique dresser, and a small dressing table meant for a young girl. She also called Ray Hartford who had done a spectacular job on the mantel, and ordered shelf units and a ladder so a child could climb onto that ledge that covered the stairs. She smiled at the idea of a little girl having a sleep over with two or three others and all of them camped out on that little nook. An online department store had the perfect quilt and curtains to match. Torrie was ecstatic with the progress and couldn’t wait to tell Susan Schmidt that by the time she finished in the dining room, she’d have paper to start upstairs. In fact she was feeling so excited she wondered where Will might be. She wanted to share the good news with someone and Will would be the one who would equal her exhilaration. But she put off looking for him until she finished a few other chores.
Torrie finished her day by ordering paint for the upstairs hall and the wall down the back set of servants’ stairs. The workers could start on that, too.
She stepped out of the parlor and her stomach growled. The sandwich she’d eaten was long gone and she had never even gotten the opportunity to thank Will for ordering them. She was too buried in her work find him.
Truth be told, she was simply overwhelmed with this job that was moving so quickly and so smoothly it was hard to comprehend and do more than just watch it happen. And yet, looking around house, she couldn’t help but smile. Even in the shadows brought about by the falling darkness of evening, the new paint, trim, flooring, and light fixtures were breathtaking.
And Susan was right—a few details like a fire in the fireplace or pictures on the walls and the right furniture in the right places and this place would feel like home. It was no longer frightening to her.
Well, the cellar was, but not the rest of the house. The rest of the house was warm and inviting.
She felt a squeeze in her heart.
She shouldn’t wish it was her home, but she did. She told herself it was because she was so proud of her work. This was, after all, her baby. She had every right to beam and wish she never had to leave it.
>
The workers were gone. Susan had cleaned up what she could and was gone, too. The house was eerily quiet after all the noise of the work during the day. Torrie took another look around at the work as she searched for Will. She would have liked to say good bye to him, thank him for lunch and share her good ideas about the first bedroom. But she felt foolish with the idea of hunting him down. He was probably up in his room where she’d been asked not to venture. So she just headed to the front door with the intention of letting herself out, locking up, and heading to the Rain Drop Inn—one of the two restaurants in Liberty—for a quick meal before heading home. She would just have to celebrate her wealth of great ideas alone and wait to tell him tomorrow.
Because she’d had the ringtone on her phone on high all day in case there had been a problem with any of her orders, it startled her now as it rang, cutting through the silence that filled the house.
She was so surprised, in fact, she answered it without checking the caller ID first. “Hello?”
“Torrie, it’s about time you took my call.”
The sound of Nick Miller’s voice grated on every nerve in her body like nails on a chalkboard.
She contemplated saying nothing more and merely pushing the end button on her phone. She moved to do just that, but Nick’s next words stopped her.
“Don’t even think about hanging up on me again. I’ve contacted a lawyer.”
“A lawyer for what?”
“My ring.”
“What do you mean your ring?”
“It was my grandmother’s ring, and you know it,” he said. “It belongs in my family. I want it back.”
In all honesty, given the job of Hargrove House as well as wanting nothing more than to push any memory of Nick to the farthest back of her mind, she’d completely forgotten about the ring. Being reminded of the ring now sent anger boiling through her suddenly. Her cheeks felt as if someone lit them on fire. “You should have thought about that before you gave it to me. Then you should have thought about it again before you cheated. So fuck you.”
Hargrove House: The Haunted Book One Page 4
