Baby, Come Home

by Stephanie Bond

  Marcus smiled. “Thought you might.”

  Porter left and Kendall stood, then reached for his laptop. “Guess I’ll head to the media room and get started on that presentation.”

  Marcus nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Kendall reached the door, then turned back. “Marcus, about earlier…”

  “Yeah, sorry about that, man.”

  “No…you’re right—I need to move on. Thanks for the wake-up call.”

  “Sure thing,” Marcus said, then picked up his phone. “Speaking of calls, I need to make some.”

  “Right. See you later.” Kendall grabbed a jacket, then turned and walked out of the office trailer toward the center of town. The temperature was bracingly cool, just what he needed at the moment to clear his head.

  As he approached the crop of buildings that made up the new downtown area, he realized they had much to be proud of. School was letting out, and the sound of children’s laughter hung in the air. Pedestrians bustled around and a couple of cars rolled down Main Street. Soon they would have to start thinking about installing a stoplight.

  Sweetness had been revived. If he squinted, the scene reminded him of the way the town looked when he was young. Then he sighed. There was only one thing missing.

  Amy.

  2

  Amy Bradshaw pulled out her desk drawer in search of chocolate. Most days she took solace in the surety of the demands of being an engineer—there were no gray areas when it came to CAD drawings and blueprints and per square inch load of reinforced concrete. But going out on her own after being laid off from the state of Michigan’s Department of Transportation was another matter.

  Her former boss had recommended her for small jobs here and there, but she was waiting to hear if she’d been selected as project leader for a big reservoir project, and the suspense was driving up her stress level. She was qualified for the position, and she’d been told by insiders that the longer it took, the more likely the news would be good—engineers that were out of the running had already been notified.

  She had a lot riding on this job.

  When her fingers closed around a cellophane wrapped chocolate cupcake in the back of the drawer, she whooped in triumph. She tore open the wrapper and bit into the cake, not caring that it was stale and dry.

  While she chewed, momentarily gratified, Amy noticed that underneath the cupcake was an ad she’d cut out of the local newspaper over six months ago. She pulled it out and swallowed, wincing as the hard ball of empty calories scraped down her throat.

  The new town of Sweetness, Georgia, welcomes one hundred single women with a pioneering spirit looking for a fresh start!

  Sweetness, Georgia…her hometown. Her initial shock at seeing the advertisement for women to help rebuild the small town that had been devastated by a tornado ten years ago was trumped only by the names of the men behind the ad: Armstrong.

  As in Kendall Armstrong and his brothers Marcus and Porter. As far as she knew, Kendall didn’t know where she’d settled after leaving Sweetness. On the other hand, the chance of the ad landing in her local newspaper seven hundred miles away strictly by coincidence seemed a little far-fetched. The first few days after the ad had appeared, she’d been besieged with paranoia, looking over her shoulder and half afraid to answer the phone. But Kendall hadn’t appeared on her doorstep and slowly she’d relaxed. Then the group of women, including her friend Dr. Nikki Salinger, had left Broadway to make the trip south to Sweetness. Again, she’d held her breath that Kendall would contact her.

  And again, he hadn’t.

  And then another emotion had crept in—curiosity. Obviously, Kendall knew where she was. So why hadn’t he called or…something?

  Because she’d told him not to. That last conversation was burned into her memory.

  Wait for me, Amy. I’ll come back for you.

  But Amy had been tired of waiting for Kendall to commit to her, tired of him coming home for a few days of leave from the Air Force for marathon lovemaking, then taking off to another adventure, leaving her behind.

  You think I’m going to sit in this podunk town and wait for you? Forget it. Goodbye, Kendall. And don’t ever try to contact me.

  Amy worked her mouth back and forth. He’d taken her at her word.

  Despite her bravado, after leaving Sweetness, she’d spent many long nights crying over Kendall Armstrong. And he’d been heavy on her mind as she’d pursued an engineering degree in night school. Their mutual interest in the science of structure had been one of the things that had drawn them together in the first place.

  They’d been an unlikely couple—she was a tomboy and had a tendency to get into scuffles with kids who teased her over her wiry red hair and Goodwill clothes. Kendall was a scholar and an athlete from an upstanding family, with a cloud of beautiful girls around him. One day between classes, he’d pulled her off the back of a boy who’d questioned her sexuality. His blue eyes had twinkled as he explained he’d been afraid for the boy’s life. She’d fallen head over heels in love with him on the spot. Kendall had been the smartest and the sexiest boy she’d ever met. He’d made her feel feminine and pretty. She’d known he was destined to go out into the world and do great things—she’d just always assumed he’d take her with him.

  But she’d never shared his adventures. After leaving Sweetness, she’d periodically entered his name into internet search engines and drank in details of “Airman Kendall Armstrong” aiding in the El Salvador earthquake recovery, then “Senior Airman Kendall Armstrong” raising temporary housing in post-tsunami Indonesia, then “Staff Sergeant Kendall Armstrong” erecting modular housing for victims of Hurricane Katrina.

  By comparison, she’d been landlocked and relegated to more mundane projects, such as shoring up aging highway infrastructure and designing parking garages.

  Amy scanned the ad again, conceding a little thrill at the thought of rebuilding an entire town. She and Nikki had stayed in touch, so she knew things were progressing…and that all the Armstrong brothers were still single. She nursed a guilty pang about not telling Nikki that she’d grown up in Sweetness, but she didn’t want her friend to inadvertently divulge information about her to the Armstrongs.

  She hadn’t counted on Nikki falling in love with Porter Armstrong. Amy shook her head as memories of the youngest brother came back to her—cute and reckless. It was hard to imagine Porter all grown up and ready to settle down. She wondered if Nikki had ever mentioned her friend Amy back in Broadway. And if she did, would Porter connect the dots? So far, Amy’s friend hadn’t confronted her. Regardless, Amy was relieved she hadn’t shared all the details of her life with the woman she’d met in yoga class scant weeks before Nikki had left to move to Sweetness.

  For the time being, anyway, it seemed as if her secrets were still safe.

  The shrill ring of the phone on her desk broke into her thoughts. Amy crossed her fingers that the call was an offer for the reservoir job, then picked up the receiver.

  “Amy Bradshaw.”

  “Amy, hi,” a deep male voice sounded over the line. “This is Marcus Armstrong.”

  Amy blinked in surprise, then found her voice. “Hello, Marcus. This is…unexpected. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, thanks. And you?”

  “Fine,” she said automatically.

  “Good. I assume you know my brothers and I are rebuilding Sweetness.”

  She hesitated, her gaze falling on the ad in front of her. “Er, yes, I’m aware of your…project. A friend of mine moved there, and we stay in touch.”

  “Dr. Salinger, yes, I know. She mentioned your name to Porter and he put two and two together as to why Kendall chose that particular town to run the ad.”

  She wasn’t sure how to respond, so she remained silent.

  Marcus cleared his voice. “Look, I’ll get right to the point. I’m calling with a proposition.”

  Wary, Amy sat forward in her chair. “I’m listening.”

  “We need a bridge des
igned to replace the old covered bridge over Timber Creek.”

  A picture of the splendid Evermore Bridge came to her clearly. Lovingly constructed from original stand timber—wood from old-growth forests—and painted a rustic red, the old landmark had been a faithful steward of the safety of all those who had crossed it. How many times had she and Kendall walked there, hand in hand, to stare up at the intricate ceiling trusses and dissect its construction?

  “It didn’t survive the tornado?” she asked.

  “I’m afraid not. It was blown away, like everything else. Only sections of the foundation remain, but I doubt if they’re salvageable.”

  Amy pressed her lips together. “What does this have to do with me?”

  “We need a structural engineer to design and oversee the construction. And I understand that’s your specialty.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. She chose her words carefully. “How much do you know about my life, Marcus?”

  “More than Kendall,” he said evenly.

  Feeling light-headed, she sat there, waiting for the floor to open up and swallow her.

  “What I propose,” he continued in her silence, “is that you return to Sweetness…for the time it would take to rebuild our bridge.”

  “A new covered bridge?”

  “As close to the first Evermore Bridge as possible, considering the original blueprints no longer exist. We have a grant from a preservation society to offset some of the costs and they provided blueprints from a similar bridge in Ohio.” He gave her an overview of the project budget and the amount they could offer for her services. “Not a king’s ransom, I know,” he said.

  “No, it sounds very fair,” she said, tightening her grip on the phone. Had Kendall told Marcus how much that bridge had meant to her? Rebuilding it would be a great personal achievement. “So…you’re offering me a temporary job?”

  “That’s right. The way I see it, I need a bridge, and it would give you a chance to see if things have changed around here.”

  If things had changed… He was alluding to Kendall and their old feelings for each other.

  “Whose idea was this?” she asked.

  “Mine. Kendall doesn’t know I’m making this call. As far as I know, he doesn’t even know you’re an engineer.”

  Because he didn’t care enough to find out? But even as hurt squeezed her heart, she was grateful Kendall hadn’t delved deeper into her life. She wondered again how much Marcus knew.

  “And if I say no, what then?” she asked.

  There was a hesitation on the other end of the line. “Then nothing. No matter what I think, Amy, you have a right to your privacy.”

  She exhaled. “Thank you, Marcus. You don’t know how much I appreciate that.”

  “Then you’ll think about it?”

  Amy’s mind swirled with the possible outcomes of returning to Sweetness. It had taken years for the sharp pain in her heart over Kendall to subside to a dull ache. If she returned now, there would be more at stake. Much more. And it was more than she was willing to gamble.

  “I’m sorry,” she said with as much conviction as she could muster, “but I’m going to have to pass. I have commitments here that I can’t turn my back on.”

  A regretful noise sounded on the line. “I’m disappointed, but I understand. It’s been nice talking with you. Call if you ever need anything.”

  She smiled into the phone. “Thank you. Goodbye, Marcus.”

  Amy set down the receiver and sank into her chair. That was close. She sat for a few moments, her mind traveling down the road not taken, wondering if her response would’ve been the same if Kendall had called instead.

  She closed her eyes and conjured up his handsome face, his serious deep blue eyes, his intense approach to everything.

  Including lovemaking, she remembered with a smile. He’d been her first lover and the only man who’d ever moved her. Every man in her life after Kendall had suffered in comparison to his strong body and keen intellect. If Kendall had been able to commit to her or had loved her enough to come looking for her, her life would’ve been so different.

  Amy gave herself a mental shake. Luckily she had Tony in her life now…a different set of blue eyes to lose herself in. She’d learned long ago that nothing productive came from rehashing the past.

  She reached for her computer mouse and returned to the CAD drawing she’d been working on before her chocolate attack, the addition of a wheelchair ramp to an existing structure. A worthwhile project, to be sure…but not very challenging. Even as she double-checked the fine details on the screen in front of her, her mind kept straying to her memories of the Evermore covered bridge over Timber Creek.

  Always happy for a reason to get out of the cramped, tension-wrought house where she lived with an elderly aunt, Amy had thought the bridge was the most romantic place in Sweetness—the way it enveloped her and Kendall when they entered one arched portal to slowly walk or ride across the length of it, counting timbers as they went, their footsteps and voices echoing off the plank walls. She would pretend it was their home. They’d certainly shared a lot of intimate moments there, tucked out of sight in the dark corners of the supports, enjoying the vibration of their sandwiched bodies when cars rumbled past.

  Unbidden, desire stabbed her midsection. It had been a long time since she’d allowed herself to think about the way Kendall had made her body come alive. In hindsight, the excitement of sexual discovery had clouded her judgment. It had made her believe that Kendall was in love with her, that they shared an unbreakable bond. She had been such a fool.

  Still, Marcus had stirred her curiosity about the town’s progress. Nikki had mentioned a website, but Amy had purposely avoided it. Now, though, she found herself clicking away from her CAD drawing and on to a search engine. A few keystrokes later, she found the official website of Sweetness, Georgia, The Greenest Place on Earth.

  Green enough on its own, she remembered, with trees as far as the eye could see. But the slogan was a play on the fact that the Armstrong brothers were rebuilding the town on the industries of recycling and alternative energies. She skimmed the pages of description. The pictures showing the devastation of the tornado still rocked her to the core—those were all places where she’d once walked. The “before” and “after” slide show featured pictures of the overgrown wasteland the town was when the Armstrong brothers had returned to reclaim it, and pictures of the progress that had been made. Nikki was in one of the photos, standing beside the sign for the Sweetness Family Medical Center, next to a short bespectacled man who, from his white lab coat, appeared also to be a doctor. Rachel Hutchins, the busty blonde who used to be the receptionist for the dermatologist Amy used in Broadway, was in several of the photos, flashing her Miss America smile. Nikki said the woman would probably be mayor when the first elections rolled around.

  There was a Lost and Found page listing hundreds, maybe thousands of items that had been found after the tornado and warehoused until they could be returned to the rightful owners. Former residents of Sweetness were encouraged to sign up on an email list to be kept apprised of developments. A social network site for the town had also been established.

  On the About page, Amy found what she’d been looking for. A picture of the three Armstrong brothers standing outside, dressed in dusty work clothes. Amy instantly recognized each one of them. Porter, always the ham, was grinning at the camera. Marcus, the stoic one, looked highly inconvenienced at having his picture taken. And Kendall…

  Her heart stuttered. Kendall had grown from a beautiful boy into a devastatingly handsome man, his shoulders wide and muscled, his skin tanned, his brown hair streaked by the sun. He wasn’t quite smiling and he wasn’t quite scowling. As always, he was square in the middle of his brothers’ temperaments. He had the same deep blue eyes as Marcus and Porter, but where Marcus looked stern and Porter, mischievous, Kendall was the calm one.

  The cautious one. The one who couldn’t commit.

  With a sigh, she
closed down the page and reopened the CAD drawing, hoping to lose herself in the details of the diagram. But her mind kept wandering and she kept making mistakes. Then she inadvertently pressed a key that undid an hour’s worth of work.

  “Dammit!” she muttered.

  The ring of the phone offered a welcome distraction from her burgeoning frustration. Out of habit from the past few weeks, she crossed her fingers and picked up the receiver.

  “Amy Bradshaw.”

  “Ms. Bradshaw, this is Michael Thoms from the Greater Michigan Water Commission.”

  Her pulse spiked—the phone call she’d been waiting for. She strove for a calm tone. “Yes, Mr. Thoms…I’ve been expecting your call.”

  “I have to apologize for the delay. Funding for the Peninsula Reservoir was held up in legislature, so we were holding off on filling positions on the project team.”

  “I understand,” she said, her chest tightening with anticipation.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Bradshaw. The project manager position went to another engineer who had slightly more experience.”

  Her shoulders fell in disappointment, but she rallied her voice. “I understand.”

  “If it’s any consolation, you were in the top three and the decision was close.”

  She smiled. “That’s very kind of you to share, thank you.” After a few more minutes of small talk, Amy returned the receiver and tamped down the panic that licked at her. She’d been counting on that contract to stabilize her work hours and finances for the next two years. With the economy in the hard-hit manufacturing state still struggling to its feet, those kinds of public works projects were few and far between. She looked back to her computer screen. It would take a lot of wheelchair ramps to make up the difference.

  Or you could go build a bridge, her mind whispered.

  She pushed to her feet and walked over to a bin that held tubes of rolled up blueprints. She flipped through them until she located the cardboard tube she had in mind. It was soft and shopworn from so many moves over the years. She opened the tube and withdrew several yellowed pages, then unrolled them on a drawing table and used paperweights to hold down the curled edges.