by Jill Kemerer
She sighed. “Fine. I’ll think about the dates again, but I hate the idea of a Monday wedding. I mean, would you get married on Labor Day?”
“I don’t see myself married.” Claire snorted. As if she ever thought about herself and marriage in the same breath. “You’ll figure it out.”
Libby launched into a plan for new invitations. Claire had heard all she ever wanted to about wedding invitations. In fact, the hours she’d put in planning her siblings’ big days should qualify her for an honorary degree in wedding planning. Getting all caught up in the details? She grimaced. Eloping was the way to go.
Not that she would have the opportunity.
God had blessed her with many things. Her family, her cottage, her otters and now a chance at her dream job. She had enough.
Her gaze strayed to the windows. Jake sat in a folding chair next to Reed. Their fishing rods angled over the water. They looked peaceful, content. The back of Reed’s head reminded her of the silky feel of his hair that night in the storm.
She averted her eyes.
Yes, her life was enough.
* * *
Reed slowly cranked his line. “Jake, can I ask you something?”
“Go for it.”
“Does it bother you I’m staying a few more weeks?”
“What?” Jake shook his head. “No way, man. I like having you here. I’m glad you’re staying longer. This cottage sits empty most of the time anyway.”
Reed dug through the tackle box for a different lure. Jake had stopped by twice during the week and texted often. It meant more to Reed than his brother could know.
The bobber floated in rhythm with the gentle waves. Either algae reeked or Reed did—his shirt stuck to his body from the humidity. The inside of his cast was probably breeding fungus at the speed of light.
“You going to reschedule the big Alaskan adventure?” Jake asked. “It’s killing you not to be there right now, isn’t it?”
“This leg is killing me more than anything, but it is hard to let go of the idea. I looked forward to it for a long time.” Reed grinned. “I don’t see me planning it again. I won’t have time once I slip into the VP position.”
“I’m glad you got promoted, but I was hoping...well, you’re always busy and the new position will probably take even more time. At least you’re here now.” Jake finished attaching a new lure. “Have you talked to Mom and Dad lately?”
Frowning, Reed rubbed his chin.
“What was that look for?” Jake asked.
“Nothing.”
“Come on, you’re mad about something.”
Reed didn’t want to have this conversation, but the lazy lake, the geese flying overhead and the sticky heat must have lulled him. Dad hadn’t stopped by this week. Not once. But Barbara called constantly. Reed couldn’t take much more of her perkiness. “Sure.”
“Sure?” Jake gave him a penetrating look. “That sounds like no to me.”
“Dad and I haven’t had a normal conversation since I was a kid.”
“But he talks about you.”
Dad talked about him? Yeah, right.
“You have eyes, Jake. Have you ever seen Dad and me hang out, relax?”
“That’s Dad,” Jake scoffed. “He’s quiet.”
“It’s more than quiet.”
“He’s not social, but it doesn’t mean anything.”
“He hasn’t talked to me, really talked to me, since my mom died.”
Jake yanked the pole. “No one ever talks about it. I don’t even know her name.”
“Meredith.”
Jake nodded.
“Everything changed after her funeral.” Reed checked his bait. Half a worm remained. He attached a different lure and recast.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Jake said. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“No one talks about it because...” Reed focused ahead. “She was drunk. Her car split the tree in half.”
Although technically he wasn’t to blame for his mom’s death, guilt still found a way of creeping in. The tension between him and Dad traced back to that day. Reed braced himself for the pain of the past to swim back. His grandmother’s hard eyes. The whispers in the school hallway. “I heard her neck snapped in two” and “My dad said she smelled like a liquor store.” Reed clenched his jaw. Why did the past still reduce him to a seven-year-old kid?
Tiny ripples broke the clear surface of the water. “Jake?”
“Yeah?” Jake set the fishing rod to the side.
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Checking on me. Coming over tonight.”
“Are you kidding? I wish you’d move here so we could hang out more.”
What Reed wouldn’t give to live near his brother. He’d always loved him, even when Jake was a gap-toothed kid. Bought him candy every Friday, gave him piggyback rides and played catch in the backyard. Jake brought a sense of normal back to Reed’s life even with the strain between him and Dad. After high school Reed shouldn’t have abandoned him—but losing his best friend and the home he’d known for ten years had left Reed confused and angry.
“You can always move to Chicago.” Reed nudged his shoulder.
“Not likely, no offense.” Jake chuckled, jerking his chin toward the cabin. “Libby and I want to raise a family here. That is, if we get this wedding back on track. I don’t know what her deal is. One minute she’s dying to marry me. The next she acts like the tornado was my fault.”
“You’re brave.” Reed trained his gaze on the lake.
“Brave?” Jake snorted. “Why? Marrying Libby?”
“Marrying at all.”
“Nah, I love her. We’re meant to be together. She’ll come around. Labor Day will work fine. She’ll see.”
“I hope so.” Reed might not know much about love, but Libby didn’t seem the budging type.
The give-and-take Reed could do. The forever aspect—a shiver rippled over his skin. He would like to offer a woman forever with him, but how could he be sure she would keep her end of the deal? Or that he wouldn’t accidentally destroy what they built together?
He couldn’t.
And he needed to remember that.
During dinner he’d stared at Claire too long and too often. But she’d been tense—he’d seen it in her pursed lips. The lips drew his attention. He’d averted his eyes only to latch on to the graceful lines of her neck. When he spent this morning at her cabin, he’d been filled with peace. Even those otters made sense, and he was not an animal person unless it barked. Then Claire’s enthusiasm over planning the town celebration had been contagious. Made him forget he wasn’t staying, that he’d worked seventy-hour weeks for eight years to get this promotion in Rockbend Construction, that small towns—family towns—didn’t work for him.
His stupid mind kept coming back to the same questions. What would it be like to hold Claire? To get close enough to feel the warmth of her skin? To kiss her?
Haven’t I learned anything? Every time I’ve trusted someone enough to let them see who I am, they reject me. I always end up with nothing.
He would leave marriage to Jake.
Chapter Seven
“We’re all set to fix the sun porch at Miss Gert’s this afternoon.” Dad sprinkled hot sauce over his eggs. “The boys will be there around one. Can you get her and the cat out of the house for a while?”
“I’ll think of something.” Claire sipped her coffee at Pat’s Diner after church the next day. “Maybe I could drive them to my place. Tell her I’ll give Whiskers a free checkup.”
Dad shook his head. “She probably won’t go for that. Hates doctors.”
“True.” Claire glanced at Reed, who sat next to her in the booth, his cast protruding slightly i
n the aisle. She’d peeked at him all morning. Before church. During church. After church. And now here. The man should not be allowed to wear a dress shirt. Especially not one rolled up at the sleeves, revealing muscled forearms.
Reed cut into his farmer’s omelet. “She’d come over for Sally’s pie. Anyone would.”
Claire nibbled on a slice of bacon. Good point. Sally baked a mean blueberry pie. “If Aunt Sally’s willing to bake, I’ll lure Miss Gert and Whiskers to my house with treats.”
Claire wiped her hand on her napkin and started in on her pancakes while Reed and Dad resumed their conversation about the restoration. Dad, naturally, threw out ideas left and right.
“Three months is unrealistic. Most of the historic buildings will need nine months to a year before they’ll be ready to open again.” Reed took a drink of black coffee. “The damaged houses should be ready this fall.”
Dad’s expression turned thoughtful. “The point is to get things moving. To motivate everyone involved. A year seems too far out.”
“I know, but I’ve been doing this a long time. It’s wrong to give people false impressions. These are big, complicated jobs, and to do them right takes time.”
A waitress stopped by and topped off their mugs.
Claire poured two sugar packets into hers and stirred. “Setting the celebration date for a year from now wouldn’t necessarily mean we couldn’t build a buzz about it. In the meantime, we could chart the progress on a big board in the town square and start some of the fund-raising we discussed.”
Dad’s eyes lit up. “I’m sure Joe would want to host that benefit dinner you mentioned. I’ll ask him this afternoon.” He stabbed a sausage link, cut a piece and shoved it in his mouth. “Maybe I’ll just text him now before I forget.” He grabbed his phone.
Claire met Reed’s eyes, smiled and shrugged. Dad wasn’t one to linger or think about something too long. She leaned in and said quietly, “He likes to jump in with both feet.”
“I noticed.” His breath warmed her cheek. Sitting next to him had not been the smartest move she’d ever made. His aftershave—the ocean-fresh smell she’d come to anticipate—had teased her all morning.
“Yep.” Dad set his phone back on the table, a satisfied smile on his lips. “Joe wants to throw a benefit dinner at the restaurant when it reopens. You don’t think it will take a year too, do you, Reed?”
“No. From what the contractor told me, I’m guessing it will be reopened soon. A month? Two tops.”
Dad attacked his breakfast again. “Why will the buildings downtown take so long?”
“A company will assess if they need new foundations. I’m assuming they will. Then you’re basically looking at renovating five new stores per block simultaneously. And they’ll all need to be modernized. If the damaged areas are severe, sections might need to be rebuilt. One problem, though, has been bothering me.”
“What?” Claire and Dad said at the same time. They glanced at each other and laughed.
“The insurance will pay for replacement costs, which will cover basics, but the budget might not cover architectural details like the special doors or elaborate windows ruined in the tornado.”
Claire’s eyebrows drew together. The improved stores Reed described sounded nothing like Lake Endwell. “But they’ll be ugly. Tourists come in the summer for the cute factor—the historic charm.”
“I know.” Reed nodded. “I’ve got some ideas, but they’ll cost money.”
Dad pushed his plate to the side and folded his hands on the table. “What are they?”
Reed turned his coffee cup twice before answering, “Hire a construction firm from Grand Rapids specializing in historically accurate restorations with modern features. All new wiring, efficient furnaces, energy-saving windows. I’ve seen their work. They do things right.”
Dad took a big gulp of his coffee.
“Why do you say that with hesitation?” Claire shifted to watch Reed.
“It’s expensive. The store owners will have to come up with whatever insurance won’t cover. I have a few ideas how to get around it, but...”
“What kinds of ideas?” Claire asked. Reed’s serious expression was even more attractive than his teasing smile. She bit the inside of her lip.
“A visit to the mayor and city council might help. If the town could kick in some of the money—”
“We could raise the rest.” Dad slapped the table. “I like it! Sheffield Auto will make a contribution. Others will too. Tell me about the materials this company would use.”
As Reed and Dad discussed beams, dimensions and rebar—whatever that was—Claire finished her breakfast. Part of her wanted to plant a kiss on Reed’s cheek for his willingness to help solve the town’s problems. The other part? Wanted out of this booth to clear her head. Sometimes God’s plans seemed terribly clear, and other times she had no clue.
It was obvious God sent Reed here to help rebuild Lake Endwell. No locals had the kinds of contacts and experience he did. But she didn’t necessarily believe God sent Reed here for her to lose her heart over. She was familiar enough with attraction to admit she had it bad. She’d gone down this road before—with Justin. And it had led her to bad decisions.
But good had come from it. She truly understood her purpose in life after breaking up with Justin and crawling back to Lake Endwell.
Her family. The summer she moved to Atlanta? The Sheffields fell apart. Newlyweds Bryan and Abby fought constantly, Tommy and Stephanie split up, Sam partied too hard with the wrong crowd right after his high school graduation and Libby failed her driver’s test. Twice. If Claire had been around instead of working at a dog kennel six states away...
When she moved back and bought the cabin, she’d immediately thrown herself into the lives of her siblings. She took Libby driving every night after work. Checked on Tommy throughout the day. Flat-out told Sam he’d better get his act together or he’d lose his scholarship. And Bryan—sweet Bryan—she’d given him hugs and ice cream as much as he’d let her. He’d married the wrong woman. Not much Claire could do there.
Slowly, life got back to normal. She’d even started dating again. And when Mark treated her as if she were beneath him, complaining about her casual clothes, grumbling about her close relationship with her family and expecting her to wait around when he had other plans, she’d dumped him. Been strong. Told herself she deserved more.
“...next Memorial Day would be a good date for the celebration. If we can talk to the mayor and store owners and get a plan together, they can hire the firm and get a schedule in place.”
Claire took a sip of her lukewarm coffee. Her purpose hadn’t changed. But Reed poked at memories. Dreams of a husband and babies and being surrounded by her loved ones. Listening to him—his take-charge attitude, his vast knowledge of construction—she felt it was clear he belonged in a high power position. In Chicago.
Lake Endwell had him for a few weeks. But what did it have to offer him beyond that?
Nothing.
Assisting Reed gave her something good to do while out of work, but she’d be wise to remember this was temporary. She’d moved away once, and everything fell apart. Now she finally had a chance to fight for the job she’d turned down years ago. Some people seemed to have it all, but Claire had never been one of them. The zoo job and her family were her top priorities. Not romance. Not Reed.
“What do you say, Claire?” Reed asked. “Should we set up a meeting with the mayor and city council?”
“Yes. Definitely.” Her head cranked out ideas to protect her heart. “But I’m only available afternoons. I decided to volunteer at the zoo every morning.” There. She wouldn’t spend every waking minute with Reed.
“My work at the dealerships can be done anytime.” Dad pointed to her. “Claire, if you work with Reed in the afternoons, I’ll help out in
the mornings.”
“Dale, you and I can make phone calls and go through my checklists. Tomorrow we’re getting crews out to the restaurant. I don’t care what it takes.” Reed turned to Claire, an appreciative gleam in his eyes. “And when you get back from the zoo, we’ll drive to job sites.”
Every afternoon in her tiny car with Reed? Her pulse skyrocketed. Maybe she should’ve volunteered all day, every day at the zoo.
Too late now. Her summer just got interesting.
* * *
The following Friday morning Reed stood in front of the large closet and debated over what shirt to wear. Dale had laundered all Reed’s clothes yesterday and dropped them off earlier. Strange to have Claire’s dad volunteering for this stuff. Not that Reed minded. Every day Dale brought breakfast and brewed a pot of coffee, and they went through the checklists, determined what calls to make and tied up the busy work.
Yeah, Reed liked his mornings with Dale.
Afternoons with Claire, on the other hand...
Exhilarating, but dangerous.
No matter how many times he told himself to stay focused on the work, he failed. It would start with her pointing out a historical detail about an abandoned barn on the outskirts of town, and before he knew it, he was caught up in her enthusiasm. Teasing her when they made the rounds. Answering her intelligent questions after a meeting with a contractor. Staring into her pretty eyes. Eating dinner with her on the cottage deck. Talking about nothing until the sun went down.
He set his crutch against the wall and pushed the hangers to the side in search of a shirt.
So he had a thing for Claire. It wasn’t that big a deal. And, technically, he and Claire were conducting business.
They’d met with Mayor Brantley Tuesday afternoon. The mayor called an emergency city council meeting on Wednesday, and after a lot of back and forth, they agreed to consider a multifaceted plan to pay for the historically accurate buildings. Claire had been a big part of getting them to consider it. When council members asked Reed about the construction firm, he shared technical details, but Claire was the one who explained how those details would benefit Lake Endwell.
