by Hebby Roman
Mary. Harper felt a flush creep up her neck, remembering their last conversation weeks ago. Mary had given her quite a dressing down. In her opinion, which she hadn’t been shy about expressing, Harper had to learn to stand on her own two feet and stop running back home when the tough got going. Mom and Dad deserved to sit back and enjoy the fruits of their labor unencumbered by one of their adult children moving back in with them. Talk about an unfair charge! There had been only one other time Harper had to return to the nest to regroup—and that had been years ago, fresh out of college.
Harper had listened to her sister with her jaws clenched. She’d thought of Mary with her perfect husband, living in their expensive house with a three car garage, and now expecting the first of her 2.5 children. She snapped. “You know, Mary, I don’t like you very much at the moment. In fact, I never liked you. We may be sisters, but you’ve always been a bitch, and I would appreciate it if you’d not talk to me like I’m your child. Don’t talk to me at all. How’s that? Just butt out!”
She put the framed photo back in its place on the desk. Family dynamics. The only way to break out of that script was to break away from the family. She half-listened to Lizzie moaning about something, but she’d lost the thread of the conversation. Maybe coming back here had been a mistake. She and her mother got along so well with half a country between them. Now they squabbled all the time—too much alike, she supposed.
Half an hour later, Harper crossed back over the parking lot and up the winding path to the house. She went around to the back door and slammed it behind her to announce her entrance.
“Oh!” Mom jumped and almost dropped the glass of water in her hand. She stood there in her dressing gown, her face flushed. “You scared me. What are you doing here? I thought you’d be working late?”
“Nope, Monday is one of my short shifts. I got off work an hour ago.”
Mom patted her loose hair into place and avoided Harper’s eyes. “Are you having dinner with us?”
“Hey, baby!” said Dad, coming down the stairs wearing only his jeans. “I didn’t think you’d be home.”
“Well, I am. Were you two taking a nap?”
Her father slipped a T-shirt on, much to Harper’s relief. “Something like that.”
“Glad to know old folks can still enjoy themselves. Only I don’t think I need to know about it so directly.”
Her mother tightened her robe around her. “I guess we got used to having an empty nest...and, you know, Dad works such odd hours.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me. What’s for dinner? Can I do anything to help?” she said, changing the subject.
“Oh, honey, I forgot you’d be joining us tonight. I’m only grilling a couple of steaks, but I’m sure I can add—”
“It’s all right. You shouldn’t have to feed your adult daughter. I’ll take care of myself. Maybe I’ll go over and pester Rosa so you two can get back to your nesting activities.”
Dad pulled out a chair for her. “Hang on a second. We can split our steaks with you and fill up on salad. I have some good news for you.”
“All right. Let me make the salad though. I’ll see what else I can find to add to dinner. What’s your news?”
“I may have a solution to our housing problem. I know you miss your independence. Remember my old digs above Donovan Brothers’ stable? That apartment is free again.”
Mom brightened. “Oh, that’s a really nice place! Your Dad built it. We spent many happy hours there.” She ran her hand over Dad’s back.
“Spending many happy hours here by the look of things. But, that might be cool. How much is the rent?”
Dad made a face. “Aw, honey, we’re not going to ask you for rent. Uncle Joe, Pete and I talked about it. You’re just getting back on your feet again. And, really it does us a favor to have someone there to help keep an eye on things...and we are particular about who we rent to.”
“You didn’t raise me to be a freeloader. I want to pay you back when I can, and you all can put me to work there.”
“All right, we’ll put together a list of chores for you.”
“But, I don’t have a car. How am I going to get to work? I’m going to need to buy an old beater.”
Dad winked at her. “I’m already on it.”
“What did you do? Please don’t tell me you’re buying me a car on top of everything else.”
“I’m buying you a car on top of everything else. Don’t worry, I’ll get a good deal on a reliable used car, not some old beater. I got Flynn on it.”
“Flynn?” A tingling sensation ran up her spine.
“Yeah, he’s the guy you want in these situations. He knows people.”
Harper’s stomach flipped at the thought of that man being involved in her business. She shook her head. “Dad, I can’t keep taking handouts from you. It’s not fair to the other kids either.” The image of Mary’s angry face flashed across her mind, the way she’d looked last time she saw her.
“Baby, you got a bad break. Things happen. That’s when family steps in. You’d do the same for me if the situation was reversed, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course, but—”
He put his hand up. “I promise I’ll write down all the money I’m giving you, so when you’re back up to speed you can ease your conscience.”
Mom looked at her. “Harper, I know what it’s like to struggle. I haven’t worked this hard so my children have to go through what I went through. Now, if we have that settled, I’m going to go get dressed and put those steaks on. You know where we keep the lettuce. Let’s see what our fancy chef can do.”
“Only a sous chef now, but I can turn out a good salad.”
Mom patted her cheek before leaving the room. Harper turned toward the refrigerator and started pulling things out of the crisper. She handed her dad a beer.
“Thanks, darlin’.”
“Dad? What’s this Flynn like?” She tried to make her voice sound nonchalant.
“Good fireman. When he has my back I don’t worry.”
“I’m sure that goes without saying, but I’m curious what he’s like. I met him at the barbeque and he wasn’t exactly friendly.”
“Really? Maybe you misread him. He is kind of a quiet one. I wouldn’t call him unfriendly, but you do have to draw him out sometimes. Has his nose buried in a book half the time at the station. I don’t think he’s seeing anyone at the moment—if that’s what you’re really asking.”
Harper shook her head with probably more energy than necessary. “Oh, no. He’s not my type.”
“I thought you might be reevaluating your type, given recent history. He’s a steady guy. Good-looking too, so the ladies say. That’s why he has the tiller position on the engine. He looks so pretty sitting up there.”
“Who’s good-looking?” They both turned to see her mom back in her jeans and T-shirt entering the kitchen.
Dad took a swig of beer and put the bottle down on the table with a loud clunk. “Flynn. Harper was just telling me she isn’t interested in him, all the whilst peppering me with questions about him.”
“Excuse me! I believe I asked you one question, which hardly counts as ‘peppering.’ I was just making polite conversation.”
Mom stood behind Dad and ran her fingers through his hair. “He is a good-looking boy. Sometimes I want to put my arms around him.”
“Mom!”
“Angel? I’m not cramping your style now, am I?” Dad had a sly grin on his face.
“No! I don’t mean I want to put my arms around him in that way. I mean there’s something about him makes me want to mother him—give him a cuddle.”
“He does hold his cards close to his chest. Never talks about his family, I’ve noticed. I don’t ask either. I just give him space. He’s that kind of guy.”
Mom threw her a look as she ground the peppermill over the steaks. “Well, I think he’s a sweet man. Naturally you’re interested in him.”
“I am not interested i
n him in that way! But since it seems I can’t enter a damn room without someone bringing up his damn name, I’m curious what his story is.”
“Watch your language.”
“When do you think I can move into that apartment above the stables?”
Chapter Five
Harper didn’t know what she’d started. Now it seemed to be a given she’d run the leftover food out to Flynn’s on her way into town. At least this arrangement would end in a few days once she’d moved into her apartment. Seeing his house, getting clues to the kind of man he was. The increased risk of running into him got her adrenaline pumping.
She pulled onto the dirt drive and approached his house. Today the place where his pickup stood was empty. Good. He’s not home.
She switched off the ignition and reached for the bag when she heard the sound she dreaded. The sound of another car approaching. She squeezed her eyelids shut. After taking a second, she swallowed hard and opened her eyes. A pickup, riding a cloud of dust—pulling in behind her. Trapped. The driver turned off the engine and sat still for an agonizing few minutes.
Looking in her rearview mirror, she could see the grimace on his face. At last, Flynn climbed out of his truck. She took in a long, deep breath. Still looking in the rearview mirror, she watched his slow progress toward her. A plain white t-shirt and tight jeans might be the sexiest look on a man, she decided. His broad shoulders, trim waist, and muscular arms swinging at his sides couldn’t show more to advantage in any other clothes—except maybe his birthday suit. She caught herself mentally undressing him and bit down hard on her lower lip. He continued forward in an unhurried pace, a scowl etched on his features. An ache in her lungs alerted her to the fact she’d been holding her breath.
She rolled down her window as he approached and looked back at him over her shoulder. His feet landed in her tire tracks leading him closer, boot prints stamping a new pattern in the dust. Maybe she could hand him the bag and be on her way. He leaned down and put his hands on the driver’s side of her car with his arms spread wide. Oh my. He has a tattoo. Around one muscular bicep ran a band of Celtic design. He had his cheek sucked in like he wasn’t too pleased to see her.
“Hi, I brought you some food from the hotel,” she said, surprised by the slight squeak in her voice when she’d been going for relaxed.
“Rosa have you running her errands?” No squeak in his voice. He spoke in a deep, slow drawl. Very sexy.
“I pass by here on my way to work. It’s not a bother. I work at—”
“I know where you work,” he said in that same slow, deliberate way. That man didn’t do anything fast.
“Oh, right, well, here you go then,” she said, shifting the bag in his direction. “Nice of you to do this. I brought the food yesterday, so I know normally I’m to put the bag on the back porch.”
To her discomfort, he stood there, not reaching for the bag, intense eyes boring into her. She lifted the bag higher. “Well, here you are. I’ll just be on my—”
“Yesterday? You were here?” The muscles in his wide-spread arms bulged, making her feel like prey trapped by a more powerful opponent. His body, radiating heat, blocked her view. His male scent filled the car.
“Yes, I let your dog in too. Poor thing was frantic to get in with the storm coming.”
His face got tight and he narrowed his eyes. “Very kind of you, except I don’t own a dog.”
“Oh, well, I—”
“That dog did some damage.” A vein in his neck twitched and his compressed lips went white.
The scorch of shame flashed over her cheeks. “I’m so sorry! It never occurred to me.... Was it bad?”
“Words fail to describe. Let me show you what I came home to yesterday. Come on,” he said when she continued to sit in the car.
He stood back to let her open her door and step out into the hot sun, pulling the bag after her. She stood face to face with him now. With his hands hooked in his belt loops, elbows out, she was aware of the size of him. Large and imposing, his body held her captive without touching her. She didn’t know what to say, and he seemed to be taking his time raking her over with his eyes. He stood so close to her, she smelled the musky scent of him. The individual stubble of each whisker on his chin, clear to her.
Finally, he walked away, moving to the back of his truck, where he picked up something large and threw it over one shoulder—a fifty-pound bag of dog food.
“I thought you said you don’t have a dog?”
“It appears I do now. I don’t want a dog, but until I find its owner or another home for it, I have a dog.” He opened the passenger side door with his free hand, and the dog she’d seen yesterday jumped out, wearing a new collar. The dog looked up at her and wagged his tail so hard, his whole body shook. She swore the dog smiled at her.
Before she could comment further, Flynn brushed past her and headed for the house, the dog following close behind. With great reluctance she followed, her eyes glued to the ground in front of her—not at his tight behind.
“Aren’t you afraid he’s going to do more damage?” she asked.
“Naw, I borrowed a crate from a friend. Dog—that’s the name I came up with for him—stays in there when I’m out. I was worried about putting him in there, but apparently dogs like having their own space. To them it’s not a cage. They don’t look at the crate the way you or I do. To the dog, it’s a refuge. Interesting how two creatures can look at the same object and draw opposite conclusions. He got right in when I set it up.”
She looked up, surprised to hear so many words coming out of his mouth. She saw a motorcycle parked in the back as they rounded the corner. My other horse is a motorcycle.
“I’m so sorry for all the trouble I’ve put you to,” she said to his back. Flynn said nothing in response.
When he reached the back door, he threw it open and stepped aside for her to enter first. She felt faint when she saw what that dog had done. Gouge marks rutted the wall around the back door. Worse, the beautiful back door was covered in scratch marks on the lower panel. The dog, still wagging its tail, followed her in. Flynn stood watching to see her reaction.
She put her hands over her mouth. “Oh, my God! I’m so sorry.”
“So you keep saying.”
“I’ll pay for this.”
“Yes, you will.”
Of course, it was right she should pay for the damage but still Harper was taken aback by his harsh tone. “How much?”
He ran his hand through his black curls and looked up at the ceiling. “Thing is, I have all the material I need to make the repairs, but it’s my time I can’t account for. I’ve spent over a year on this house. This was the last room I did, and then I was going to start on the exterior. Now I’m set back. I have to patch up the walls and paint them again. I’ll have to take off the door and sand it down. Getting that to look right again is going to take some time.”
“Is there anything I can do to help? I’m pretty handy. My dad’s done some building, and I’ve helped him out.”
He looked like he’d just swallowed a bug. “No, I don’t need your help. What you could do though is take some of these fliers and put them around town. I’ve already been to the shelters.” He reached over to the table and handed her a stack of papers. In spite of herself, she almost giggled at the picture of the dog looking so happy at the camera. It crossed her mind the dog was lucky Flynn hadn’t kicked it out—or worse. Instead, he appeared to be taking good care of it.
“You could’ve left it at the shelter.”
“I could have, but I didn’t feel right about leaving him there all locked up, thinking nobody wanted him.”
“Have you gone to any local vets?”
“I thought of that but haven’t got around to it yet.”
“I’ll do that.”
“All right. I’d hate to think of some kid or someone missing their dog, and you can tell someone spent some time training him. He’s a good dog. Other than this,” he said, waving his hand at
the room. “That storm must have spooked him. It does that to dogs sometimes, my friend said.” They fell into an uncomfortable silence. Harper wondered if this friend who knew so much about dogs was a male or a female?
“So, did you buy this place to fix up?” she asked.
“No. It belonged to my folks.”
“This is the house you grew up in?” she asked, surprised they’d lived so close together growing up.
“Yep.”
“Are your parents still around?”
“Nope. They’ve passed on.” Before she could respond he jumped in and cut her off. “Hey do me a favor? Let’s not mention this to your dad.”
“Why? He’d want to help you.”
“Exactly. No offense, but I don’t want a bunch of Donovans hanging around my house. You know your uncles and cousins and what-not would be over here in a flash.”
“Don’t care for Donovans?”
He started. “Oh, no, that’s not it! I respect your dad and all his kin. I like to work alone here, is all.”
She sensed a heaviness behind his words when he talked about his house. She’d bet there was a story there.
“Okay, well, I need to get to work. I can’t tell you how—”
“How sorry you are. I got that. If you deliver the food in the future, remember aside from being the temporary guardian of this dog, I don’t own one. Or a cat. Or a coyote. Not a mountain lion either. So leave all those things outside.”
He still had his arms crossed tight against his chest and a stern expression on his face, but now she saw a twinkle in his eyes.
She dared to smile at him. “Don’t worry. I’m moving out of my parents’ house soon, so I won’t be passing by here anymore. Rosa’s going to have to go back to her old methods.”
“I know. I heard your dad and uncles are letting you stay in the apartment above the stables.”
