A Family for the Farmer (Brush Creek Brides Book 4)

by Liz Isaacson

  Chapter Three

  Blake took in the water damage in the back corner of the bakery, his brain only firing on one cylinder because of the woman in the front of the shop. As soon as he’d met her last night, he’d wanted to find a way to see her again.

  And there she was, the first person he’d seen that morning. Half his brain whirred trying to find a way to see her again before he left the bakery, and the other half processing the amount of work it would take to fix the shop.

  “This looks pretty bad,” he said to Doug. He pressed two fingers against the wall, and it moved. Definitely not good. “How long do you think it’s been leaking?”

  Doug sighed. “All winter, probably. The foundation’s shifted.” He hung back as if the entire corner of the building would collapse on him if he got too close. “Can you fix it?”

  “Yeah, of course.” Blake glanced up, left, and right. “Can I see it from the outside?”

  “Sure.” Doug led him out the back door of the shop, and sure enough, the structural and foundational damage was clearly visible from the outside.

  “What’s on the second floor?” Blake asked.

  “Erin just moved in up there.”

  Blake’s heart tripped over a beat before returning to normal. A smile slipped across his mouth, and he quickly straightened it. “It’ll take a lot of work,” Blake said. “And it won’t be cheap.” He glanced at Doug, whose shoulders stiffened.

  “Define ‘cheap’.”

  Blake crouched and examined the damage. “This will need to be rebuilt. Matched up with the other foundation. It’ll be probably fifteen or twenty thousand dollars.”

  Doug sucked in a breath, and regret sliced through Blake. He wanted to help his friend, but his time and expertise was worth something. Not to mention supplies, trips to Vernal to get those supplies, and paying inspectors to approve habitation of the building.

  “How long will it take?”

  “Months,” Blake said. “Probably all summer, since it’s peak season on the ranch too.”

  “When’s planting?”

  “Next weekend, so I wouldn’t be able to start until the week after that.” Blake was already tired, thinking about all that needed to be done to prepare for planting, and then maintaining all the fields, and then mending sprinkling systems, managing the water rights. He barely kept up with all of that, and then it was time to harvest. Blake was in charge of all of the farming at Brush Creek Horse Ranch, and while the other cowboys spent their days training horses, he spent his making sure all of the animals on the ranch could eat.

  “Let’s do it,” Doug said. “Did you bring the paperwork?”

  Blake pulled out his phone and opened a note. “I didn’t bring it. I need to take some measurements and some pictures. Then I’ll draw it all up and bring it down for you to sign.” His mind seized onto this as a way for him to see Erin again. Plus, if he had to be down here in the evenings after his work on the ranch concluded, maybe he’d get to see her then too. He couldn’t erase the smile playing with his lips, even when he felt the weight of Doug’s stare on his face.

  He finished his note, and opened his camera. “I’ll be in and out for a few minutes. All right?” He glanced at Doug, who nodded, wiped his hands on his apron, and went back into the shop.

  Blake busied himself with snapping photos and making a few more notes. He went into the shop and repeated the process with the damage inside. He found Doug and asked, “Can I get into the apartment upstairs?”

  “Let me talk to Erin.” He finished swishing blue stripes of frosting across a tray of chocolate-dipped doughnuts and stepped through the doorway leading to the sales floor. Blake followed him, intending to get his measuring tape from his truck. He kept himself from so much as glancing at the pretty brunette as he left through the front of the shop. She was busy with customers anyway; even Doug waited to speak with her.

  Blake grabbed the tape measure and went around the back of the building without going through it. He started at the corner and took the measurements he needed, stepping inside to do the same. The notes on his phone got longer and longer until he finally finished.

  One of those glazed doughnuts and a cup of coffee from the drive-in down the street sounded heavenly about now. He turned when Doug said, “She can take you up, Blake.”

  Blake grinned at her and waited for her to move. He’d been friends with Doug for three years—since he moved to Brush Creek. He had a wicked sweet tooth, after all. But Doug had never lived above the bakery, and Blake had never been upstairs.

  Erin moved around the preparation area and stepped through a door. Blake followed her, heat rising to his face. He hadn’t felt this level of attraction for a woman since…well, ever. He’d been so hung up on Jessica for the past ten years.

  Immediate foolishness flooded him. He’d grown up next door to Jessica, and he’d been in love with her for as long as he could remember. He’d left Colorado when she got engaged, hoping for a fresh start. But Brush Creek had excellent WiFi, and he’d been able to keep up with everything Jessica and her fiancé did online, including their fancy wedding at one of Colorado’s premier ranches.

  He thought once she tied the knot, he’d be free. He’d tried. He’d gone out with several women here in Brush Creek. As he reached the top of the stairs, he knew he’d never met anyone that had intrigued him quite as fast as Erin had.

  She entered her apartment without unlocking the door and stepped back to let him follow her. “What do you need to look at?”

  “There’s some foundational damage downstairs,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. He scanned the apartment and found it in various stages of unpacking. Empty boxes had been flattened and stacked against the wall near the door. The apartment was one large room with a couch that faced a TV, a dining table behind that, and the kitchen in the far corner. Right where the damage was.

  He groaned. “Notice anything leaking in your kitchen?” He stepped through the disarray, noticing children’s sized shoes. A pang of alarm radiated through him.

  “No,” she said. “But we just moved in.”

  “You and your family?” He bent and opened the cabinet in the corner. It held a lazy Susan that hadn’t had anything stacked in it yet. A musty smell hit him, and Blake’s stomach dropped again.

  “Me and my kids,” she said.

  Blake straightened, so many things happening in his mind he couldn’t keep them all straight. “How many kids?”

  “Three.”

  He blinked, once for each child, before asking, “Boys or girls?”

  “Two boys, one girl.” Erin glanced over her shoulder. “Did you find what you need?”

  He glanced back at the cabinets. At the very least, she’d be getting a new kitchen. “This is worst-case scenario,” he said. “Will you tell Doug I need to see him?”

  Erin nodded and ducked out of the apartment. Blake realized too late that he could’ve gone back down to talk to Doug himself. He didn’t need to send Erin away to do it. At the same time, he didn’t need to be so obvious in his attraction.

  Doug arrived a minute later, glancing around like black mold would be creeping up the walls. “What?”

  Blake gestured to the cabinets. “It’s behind all of this.”

  Doug scrubbed his floury hands through his hair, leaving streaks of white behind. “Will she have to move out?”

  “Probably not. But she’ll have to live in a remodel for at least, oh, I don’t know. Let’s say three weeks.” The thought of spending three weeks’ worth of evenings with Erin made Blake giddy. At the same time, a warning siren blared in his mind. She had three kids.

  “How much?” Doug asked.

  Blake cocked his head to the side as if considering. “What’s Erin’s story?” he asked instead of giving a quote. He’d draw that up in the paperwork anyway.

  “Erin’s my cousin. My father’s ill, and my mom thought it would be nice to give her—” Doug stopped as if someone had pushed mute on his vocal chords.
“Wait a second. Why are you askin’ about Erin?”

  Blake shrugged. “No reason. She’s new in town. Did she grow up here?”

  “No, in Vernal. Her mom is my mom’s sister. They spent a lot of time together, so Erin did come here a lot, especially in the summer.”

  Blake nodded. Erin had come back to somewhere safe after something traumatic in her life. Blake was going to ask Doug if she was married, but now he didn’t need to. She wasn’t. She wouldn’t need a job in the family bakery if she still had a husband.

  “Want to go fishing this week? The spring runoff is still strong.” Blake fiddled with his phone so he wouldn’t have to meet Doug’s eyes. He didn’t want his friend to see his interest in Erin’s life. Didn’t need that getting back to her.

  “Sure,” Doug said. “Which evening?”

  “Thursday is probably going to be best,” Blake said, mentally running through his to-do list for the week.

  “Thursday it is. I’ll come up to your cabin.”

  Blake took out his tape measure and finished the job before heading downstairs. His doughnuts waited by the register, and he stepped up to purchase them, his mind racing. How could he see Erin again without being obvious? Where were her kids right now? How available would she be?

  She smiled at him and tapped on the computer screen. “That’ll be thirteen nineteen.”

  He handed her his debit card and she ran it. His mind blanked. This was it. He wouldn’t see Erin again for at least a week. For some reason, his heart shriveled at the very thought.

  “Am I really going to get a new kitchen upstairs?” she asked.

  “There’s been some water damage to the building.”

  “And you’re going to fix it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He tapped the brim of his cowboy hat. “I’m a general contractor.”

  She handed his debit card back to him and waited for the receipt to print. “You look like a cowboy to me.” Her cheeks turned rosy, and Blake wondered if she was flirting with him.

  “That I am, ma’am.” He signed the receipt she presented. “I grew up on a huge farm in Colorado. My dad trained champion barrel racing horses for the rodeo circuit. My twin brother still rides bulls, and my younger sister is on the leaderboards in the W-PRCA.”

  “Did you do the rodeo?”

  A flash of disappointment cut through him, though it had been years and he’d come to terms with his life. “I couldn’t. I was really sick when I was a teenager, and I had a bone condition for a few years that prevented me from riding and training.” He swallowed. “I would’ve loved to be in the rodeo, but I did what I could and that was farming. My dad taught me everything I needed to know to have my own farm or to manage one. That’s what I do at Brush Creek.”

  “And the general contracting?”

  “I went to school for that,” he said. “Most farmers need a side business, and it helps to be handy so you can fix your own outbuildings on a ranch.” He leaned against the counter, nowhere near ready to leave.

  The bell sounded, indicating someone else had entered the bakery. He straightened. “Well, it was nice talkin’ to you, ma’am.” He picked up his box of doughnuts and started to turn.

  “Do you go to church, Blake?”

  He turned back to her. “Sometimes,” he said, when he really should say “Hardly ever.” Everyone up at the ranch were regulars at the little red brick building where the pastor spoke on Sunday mornings. Blake had gone a couple of times over the years, but he also enjoyed a day at the ranch by himself.

  “Will you be there tomorrow?”

  Deciding to be brave, he leaned in again. “Depends. Will you?”

  Their eyes met, and Blake found the heated interest in her gaze. Saw her freckles pop out as a flush stained her cheeks. “My kids are in Salt Lake City with their father, so yes, I’ll be there by myself.”

  “Well, I guess I better be there too, then.” He tapped his hat again, turned, and left the bakery.

  Chapter Four

  Erin’s heart didn’t settle back into the right spot in her chest until several minutes after Blake left. When she woke the following morning, the organ had once again taken up residence in her throat.

  She had no idea why she’d asked if Blake would be at church that day, only that she didn’t want to sit by herself. Without her children, Erin didn’t quite know how to be herself. In Vernal, she still had friends who’d never moved, neighbors who’d lived next door to her family, and her parents she could attend church with. Here, she had Aunt Shirley and Uncle Johnny, but with her uncle’s declining health, she couldn’t count on them to attend.

  And she wasn’t sure she could walk into the chapel alone, an outsider in this town she’d always loved but didn’t quite fit into.

  “Should’ve called Tess,” she muttered to herself as she headed down the stairs and turned west toward the church at the end of the block. Cars and trucks passed her, and some patrons walked the path she did. She took a deep breath and entered the building behind a couple with two small children, probably close to her three-year-old McKenzie’s age. A smile drifted across her lips as she followed them into the chapel.

  She paused, stepping out of the way of another family when she realized she’d stopped right in the middle of the aisle. “Sorry,” she murmured, every instinct inside begging her to leave, and leave now.

  Erin turned and ran into a solid chest. “Oh—”

  “Whoa there,” a familiar voice said. A steady hand landed on her shoulder while another one wrapped around her waist, keeping her from falling down. Again.

  “Blake.”

  “We’ve got to stop running into each other.” He chuckled, his vibrant blue eyes intoxicating as he gazed down at her. He couldn’t seem to look away, and Erin didn’t want him to. “Have you found a seat?” Blake glanced around, the teensiest bit of apprehension on his face.

  “No. Anywhere is fine.” Erin shifted and Blake dropped his hands from her body.

  “Well, how about this back row?”

  “Nope,” another cowboy said, stepping in front of Blake. “April and I always sit in the back.” He carried a baby that looked close to six months old to Erin and waited until a tall brunette sat before he joined her on the pew. “You can sit on the other end, if you want.” The other cowboy scanned Blake from head to toe. Then Erin. “If you came more often, you’d have a regular seat.”

  Blake sucked in a breath and guided Erin back into the lobby and into the other side of the chapel. He moved into the pew first and sat down, his neck turning a ruddy shade of red.

  “You don’t come to church that often, do you?” Erin asked as she sat next to him and straightened her skirt.

  “Not that often, no.” He sat straight and tall, his eyes straight forward.

  “I don’t do a whole lot without my kids,” Erin said. Where the words came from, she wasn’t sure. But she felt comfortable with Blake, and she wanted him to feel comfortable with her too. “I was nervous to come by myself.” She cut him a quick glance. “I could’ve called Tess.”

  He tilted his head and met her eyes. “I don’t want you to call Tess.” He faced the front again, and she didn’t know a person could sit so still, so straight. Surely his back would ache after only a few minutes.

  But ten minutes later, the service began and Blake still hadn’t moved. The silence between them wasn’t the comfortable kind, and Erin wasn’t sure how to fix it. She’d been hoping for a new life here in Brush Creek, one without awkward silences and difficult conversations and restless nights.

  But nothing had changed just because the town had a different name. Helpless and frustrated, Erin wiped her eyes, which had begun to fill with tears.

  “I’m sorry,” Blake whispered as the preacher started to stand. “I should’ve told you I don’t get down to church that often.”

  “It’s fine,” Erin whispered back. “It’s not that.”

  Blake twisted and looked fully at her. He reached out and swiped his thumb
across her cheek. “Want to get out of here and talk about what it is?”

  She didn’t need more than a second to think about it. She nodded, stood, and left the chapel as quickly as her heels would allow.

  She found herself on a swing in the park, Blake next to her. They drifted lazily back and forth, the chains squealing with the movement. Her heels lay discarded on the edge of the playground, and a near-summer breeze played with her hair.

  “My kids will be back tonight,” she finally said. “They have two weeks of school left, and then they’ll go back to Salt Lake for half of the summer.”

  Blake swung forward and back, forward and back. “Do you miss them when they’re gone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me about them.”

  She looked at him, sure he didn’t want to spend his time listening to her blab on and on about her kids. He tossed her a half a smile and his eyes shone with kindness.

  So she started talking. “Cole is eight and he’s about to finish third grade.” A smile formed on her face and her heart lifted. “Davy is six, and he’s almost done with first grade. McKenzie is only three, and that’s why I live above the bakery. I have to get up really early, and if we live there, I can let the kids sleep while I prep and get the shop open. Then I go back upstairs and get them off to school, and McKenzie and I work in the bakery until lunchtime.” She sighed and looked into the distance, where a man had just arrived with his dog and a Frisbee. He tossed the toy and the dog streaked after it.

  “In Vernal, I taught the kids piano in the afternoons. But I couldn’t bring my piano here.” She wasn’t sure why she’d brought that up, only that it had popped into her mind.

  “My boss is an excellent pianist,” Blake said. “I bet you could come up to his place and use his piano.”

  Erin scoffed and laughed. “Right. I’m going to drive up the canyon and borrow your boss’s piano.”

  Blake chuckled too. “Yeah, probably not.”