by Jill Kemerer
Next up? A town meeting. The community would be able to have their say since it would involve taxpayer money. As for the big media event to celebrate the town’s reconstruction, city council had approved the date—next Memorial Day. Meanwhile, Reed had contacted the firm from Grand Rapids he had in mind, and yesterday they came out to start working on their bid.
Yes, Lake Endwell was on the road to recovery.
A dark gray polo shirt caught Reed’s eye as his cell phone rang.
“Hey, John, what’s up?” Reed pulled the shirt from the hanger and hobbled to stand near the window. Two blue jays flew around a cedar tree.
“Remember the addition to the hospital in Denver we bid on last year?”
“If I remember correctly, they put an indefinite hold on the project.” Reed tossed the shirt on the bed.
“They’re moving forward with it. I’m having Cranston update the numbers. They want us to fly out July 15 for a meeting.”
Reed frowned. Less than three weeks from now. The days were passing quickly. “Great.” Reed kept his tone firm. “Book the flight. I should be out of this cast by then, so after we tour the hospital, we can determine the best team to get it done.”
“Good to hear your enthusiasm, Reed. I can always count on you. Can’t wait to have you back.”
They said goodbye, and Reed took a seat on the edge of the bed.
John had always been able to count on him. And vice versa. It was one of the few relationships that worked in Reed’s life. But he didn’t want to fly away from Lake Endwell yet. And this wasn’t just because helping restore the town energized him, or the fact that he got to see Jake every other day. Part of it was Claire. She’d become a good friend. The girl he couldn’t stop thinking about.
Every night, he and Claire shared childhood stories, their college experiences—she commuted and got scholarships; he lived in the dorm and took out loans—the latest movies, books they’d read and the best music. They’d talked about faith—and he found himself drawn to her quiet spirituality. She was a doer. Someone who lived her faith without preaching it.
Admirable.
Claire had made his time in Lake Endwell fun, and tonight he was returning the favor. They’d worked hard all week. Now it was time to relax. Sally had assured him Claire spent Friday nights at home on the couch.
Not if he had something to say about it.
“Hello? Reed? It’s Sally.” Her voice traveled down the hallway.
“Be right out.” Reed hastily grabbed the shirt. Privacy wasn’t high on the Sheffields’ priority list. Balancing on one leg, he shoved his arms in the polo and clip-clopped his way on the crutches to the living room.
“Well, you sure are looking handsome.” Sally glanced up from the counter. Tiny baseballs swung from her ears. “How’s life in the cast treating you today?”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Not bad, but my leg is shrinking. It itches like crazy.”
“Hang in there. It’s normal.”
His cell phone rang. He checked the caller and opted not to answer.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” Sally lifted a container of food out of the bag and smelled it.
“It’s Barbara. I’ll call her back.”
“But she’ll be worried.” Her “you’d better answer the phone” stare forced him to grit his teeth, but he made no move to answer it until Sally put a hand on her hip.
He refrained from raising his eyes to the ceiling. “Reed here.”
“Oh, you’re there. It’s Barbara. How are you doing? Do you need me to pick you up for any appointments? Or I could keep you company if you want. I have a five-hundred-piece puzzle. Should I bring it over?”
“Uh, no, thanks.” He flicked a glance at Sally, rummaging through his fridge, setting cans of soda on the counter. Drinks for his date—well, nondate—his surprise outing with Claire. “I have plans tonight.”
“You do?”
“I appreciate the thought, though.” He clicked his teeth together. All this time with the Sheffields made him think about patching things up with his own family. “Is Dad around?”
“He’s at work. I can give him a call to stop by, though. Did you need him?”
Yeah, he needed him. The years kept sprinting by, and Reed pretended he didn’t need anyone, but his time here hammered home the facts. He hadn’t tried to heal the rift with his father. And he wanted to.
“No, no,” Reed said. “Just thought I’d say hi if he was around.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to tell him for you, and I’ll have him call you later too.”
“Okay.” He pressed End and set the phone on the table. Barbara had told Reed four other times his dad would call him later. Dad never called.
Sally breezed to the table and wiped her hands. She slapped a chair for him to join her. “I have everything you need for dinner. Claire is going to love it. You’re good for her. She’s living for herself a little more now you’re here.”
He frowned. “But she’s been spending all her free time helping me and volunteering at the zoo.”
“Pfft. She loves the zoo. And working with you isn’t hard. I’m sure there’s a herd of girls back in Chicago who would trade places with Claire in a minute.”
A herd? Like cattle?
“Too bad I couldn’t find the cooler.” Sally craned her neck toward the kitchen. “I’ll have to bring mine over.”
“That’s okay. There’s got to be one here somewhere.”
She narrowed her eyes. “It would only take me a minute to run home and get it.”
“Really, I’ll find one.”
She opened her mouth, then shut it and smiled, patting his arm. “Sorry, hon, I know you’re independent. I just have to be sure my boys are comfortable, you know.”
My boys? Reed’s throat froze—Sally considered him one of her boys?
Why does she include me? And why does Barbara make an effort? At what point will they realize I’m not worth the trouble?
“If you don’t find the cooler, you give me a call,” Sally said. “I can’t thank you enough for staying and helping us out.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. You put your life on hold and made all those calls. Joe and I can’t believe how quickly the work is getting done.” She tapped her red fingernails on the wooden table.
“Making phone calls is part of my job.”
“But this isn’t your job, and we’ve been making the same calls and getting nowhere. You actually got them to listen. You love your work, don’t you? You must be missing Chicago.”
A blow-off remark perched on the tip of his tongue, but my boys echoed. “Yeah.”
“We’re growing on you, aren’t we?” She arched her eyebrows. “Sure wish you lived around here, but Lake Endwell doesn’t offer the same opportunities as Chicago. I get it.”
He almost protested.
Lake Endwell offered more.
No.
He couldn’t be vice president and live in Lake Endwell. And whenever he opened his heart a crack, it got filled in with concrete. Mom. Her family. Collin. His family.
He didn’t think he could handle losing Claire and her family too.
Chapter Eight
What a crummy Friday.
All week Claire had spent extra hours at the zoo, hoping to impress the zoo director, Tina Atley, enough to increase her chances of getting the position. But it had been almost two weeks since Claire had submitted her application, and Tina hadn’t called yet. Shouldn’t someone have contacted her by now for an interview?
Claire stomped to the refrigerator for a Diet Coke. No silver cans, not in the usual spot next to the half gallon of milk or hiding behind the head of cauliflower she meant to cut up. Brown spots spread like dirty
fingerprints across the white florets. She should probably throw it away.
Slamming the fridge shut, she headed to her bedroom to change.
The worst part about the day? Claire ran into one of the zookeepers and found out the latest news. News she didn’t like. Not one bit.
A second cousin of Tina’s recently graduated with a degree as a veterinarian technician and wanted the position too. Second cousins had a nasty way of taking priority over experienced applicants.
Claire pressed both palms on her dresser top and glared at her reflection in the mirror. Frizzies escaped her ponytail, her mascara smudged the corner of her left eye and the sunburn she’d gotten on her nose last weekend had started to peel.
Maybe she should go to bed.
If someone else got the zoo job, she wouldn’t be able to take care of the otters after they left her house. How could she hand over their care to some stranger?
And where would she work? She couldn’t imagine a job not animal related. The two vets in town both hated her, and they’d both fired her. Fantastic.
She’d have to look for a job in the city. She’d have to start over.
Pulling out a pair of stretched-out shorts and an oversize, stained white T-shirt, she changed. A knock on the door had her smoothing her hair.
“I have a surprise for you.” In a charcoal polo shirt and cargo shorts, Reed stole her breath. His smile highlighted the crinkles around his eyes. She couldn’t look away from his lips. Of course the hottest guy in the county would show up when she wore her scrubbiest clothes.
She swiped a finger under her left eye in an attempt to erase the mascara smudge. “What kind of surprise?”
“A good surprise.”
“Can it take a rain check?”
“No. It can’t.” His smile faded.
Claire brushed her toe back and forth and fingered the edge of the T-shirt. “I appreciate the gesture, but I—”
“You don’t know what the gesture is,” he said, the twinkle in his eyes returning. “So how can you appreciate it?”
Claire exhaled loudly. “I had a really bad day.”
“Then you definitely need this. Come on.”
What did he have planned? Her silly heart leapt for joy, but logic yelled, “Slow down.” The time they’d spent together all week? Amazing. Reed got things done. And he didn’t act like a big shot. He asked her about the job sites they checked, wanted to hear about the owners and included her in every meeting.
He was slowly opening up to her. No guy made her laugh the way he did.
But that was the problem. They weren’t just working together. They were swapping stories every night. The more time they spent together, the more she liked him.
She already liked him a little too much.
But he would be leaving soon. And that “but” was a big deal. It would be hard enough to say goodbye without getting even more attached.
Reed cleared his throat. His eyes pleaded with her for...something. He needed her; she sensed it. And caved.
“You win,” she said.
“My favorite words.”
She couldn’t help it, she chuckled.
“Meet me on the dock in ten minutes,” he said. “You didn’t have plans tonight, did you?”
Not unless pigging out on Ben & Jerry’s and watching reruns of Dr. G: Medical Examiner counted as plans. “No, I’m free.”
“Good. Bring a sweatshirt.”
She returned to her bedroom, threw on shorts showcasing her toned legs and shoved her arms into her cutest black tank top with My Monkey Made Me Do It scrawled below a cartoon monkey face. A quick retouch of her makeup, her favorite sandals, a hoodie around her waist and she was ready to go.
It had rained the night before, so she hopped over the puddles in the drive separating her property from Granddad’s. The fishy scent of earthworms made her smile.
Home. It smelled like home.
Reed beat her down to the dock and pushed the pontoon door open with his crutches. Claire held her breath. He wasn’t getting on the boat by himself, was he? Didn’t the fool know he could slip and hurt his leg even worse?
He handled the transition easily, glanced up and waved. “Your chariot awaits.”
“Looks like Dad’s pontoon to me.” She picked up her pace to join him.
His tanned face and mussed hair reminded her of a photo shoot, one with a title something like “Rich people yachting.” Her heart flip-flopped. He winked. “I have an apology to make.”
“For what?”
“I have to put you to work. Could you get the stuff over there?” He lifted his crutches. “I don’t trust my ability to get on the boat with these things and carry food.”
Aunt Sally’s unmistakable takeout bag perched on top of the picnic table. Claire hauled the blanket, bag and cooler onto the pontoon.
“Ready to set sail?” He flashed a mouthful of white teeth.
Her lips twitched. “It’s not exactly sailing.”
“Pretend it’s a sailboat tonight.” He nodded to the monkey. “Nice shirt. The monkey made me do it too. We’re off on an adventure. A culinary adventure if Sally has anything to do with it. Now hold on, this could get bumpy.”
“Do you want me to drive?” She followed him and stood behind the captain’s chair, inches from his cropped hair. Wanted to run her fingers through it.
“What kind of question is that? Of course not. Your dad gave me a crash course this morning. I could use some help untying the ropes, though.”
“Crash course, huh? I hope you don’t mean it literally.” She unlooped the ropes keeping the boat docked.
“Ready?” He waggled his eyebrows. “I’ve been eyeing this baby since I got here. You take the seat next to me. I’ve got this.”
She obeyed, biting her tongue when the boat bumped against the edge of the dock.
“No worries,” he said. “I can handle it.”
It lurched at an angle, and Claire covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.
“Are you laughing at me?” He steered the craft to open water. “I should play the injured card and remind you of my broken leg. You would feel guilty then, wouldn’t you?”
“Oh, yes.” She nodded solemnly. “I would be eaten up inside.”
“I knew it.”
They sped to the west. The roaring engine and spraying mist prevented conversation. Ah... She leaned back. Water, nature, trees. Her favorite escape. After a tour of the lake, they rounded a bend and Reed slowed the boat. “Is this a good spot?”
“For what?” she asked.
“For dinner. I’m starving.”
“Yes.” The bend provided privacy. Tall maples, cedars and pines formed a semicircle around them, and four cottages dotted the opposite shore. An eagle soared above, outlined against the cottony puff of a cloud. The scent of fresh lake water wreathed to her nose.
“I’ll drop the anchor.” Claire made her way to the back.
“I’ll watch.”
Heat rose to her cheeks. He’ll watch? Reed had shed his defenses all week. While she liked how he teased her, she didn’t like how it made her senses churn.
She hadn’t been keyed up over a guy in a long time, and now? Her senses misfired, her pulse tripped, her skin prickled.
She couldn’t afford the physical chaos. Romance and attraction didn’t last. If she let her feelings run free, she’d be the loser. Reed wasn’t staying. And neither of them wanted forever.
Did she?
Did it matter?
She hoisted the anchor and dropped it in the water, where it slipped below the surface and disappeared.
* * *
Reed couldn’t tear his gaze from Claire across from him on the other cushioned bench. Her tanned arms and legs revealed her spor
ty side, but her bright pink toenails gave away her feminine style. He stole a peek at her matching lips.
He and Claire had discussed the progress on various buildings in town while they ate turkey subs and pasta salad. After dinner, he sprawled on one bench and she took the other. Now the silence made him think things. Things he was better off not thinking about.
Like pink toenails and slim ankles. Wisps of dark hair lifting in the breeze. The slight curve of a shoulder.
“So, uh,” he said, then shook his head. Great. Nervous high school kids had nothing on him. “What was so bad about today?”
“Hmm?”
“Earlier. You mentioned a bad day.”
Her eyes hid behind large black sunglasses. Sighing, she barely moved. “There’s another strong contender for the zoo position.”
“Who?”
She sat up and moved her legs to face him. “Tina’s second cousin.”
“Ah.” Sympathy swept in.
“Family trumps experience, you know. Oh, and I stopped in at Lake Endwell’s garden club meeting this afternoon. I had the fund-raising sign designed, so I showed them the mock-up and asked if I could install it in front of the gazebo at City Park. Well, they told me yes, but the sign’s colors sparked a big argument about petunias versus geraniums. Ugh. Why can’t everyone agree?”
He grinned. “Welcome to my world. One of the first things I learned as project manager was to present a set number of choices for my clients. It’s easier on everyone.” He hitched his chin to her. “How did the sign turn out?”
“I love the sign. It’s big, bold. Should be ready in a week. I hope it motivates everyone to work together for the sake of the town.” She rubbed her biceps. “Speaking of not compromising, Libby called earlier. She nixed the backyard barbecue reception idea. Back to square one.”
“Jake hasn’t been much better, Claire. Some of the suggestions he’s made have made even me cringe. And I’m not into weddings.”
Neither spoke as dragonflies flitted from lily pads to the edge of the pontoon. A light gust of wind made a faint swishing sound. Relaxing.
“Can I ask you something?” Reed’s cast still extended on the cushions, but he dropped his other foot. He’d learned a lot about Claire this week, but one question kept popping up, one he’d been unwilling to ask until now.
