by Laura Scott
Maybe she should become a traveling nurse. She and Ryan had lost their parents a few years ago, so it wasn’t as if she had any family holding her here in Michigan. Normally she liked the friendly people of the Midwest, but living near water, either a lake or the ocean, held a definite appeal.
She sat watching the boats on the water for what seemed like forever but was likely only an hour when she heard something behind her. A glance over her shoulder confirmed her suspicions.
Jonas.
“What’s wrong?” His blunt question surprised her. She’d expected him to avoid treading on personal ground.
“Why do you think something is wrong?”
“Why are you answering a question with another question?”
Touché. She had to smile. “Nothing, really. Your family is really nice.”
“They are.” He clumped over and dropped into the seat beside her. “And you miss your brother.”
Her eyes burned with tears. “Yes. Both of your brothers-in-law-to-be remind me of him. They give as good as they get.”
“He was older, wasn’t he?”
“Good guess.” She shrugged. “Three years. I almost followed him into the Army. Figured I’d be an amazing Army nurse.”
“Why didn’t you?”
She slanted him a sideways look. “I don’t take orders very well.”
“No, really?” His dry humor made her smile. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“When I spoke with Ryan over Skype, I could see that being out there was more difficult than he’d anticipated.” She paused, then added, “I’m sure you felt the same way.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything more.
For a full five minutes they simply watched the lake. “What happened at Battle Creek?”
His keen perception caught her off guard. “What do you mean?”
“Bella.” He sighed. “No one comes out to McNally Bay for ten days without a good reason. It’s not that much of a tourist attraction. Obviously, you’re hiding from something.”
“Like you are?” The instant she said the words she wished she could take them back. She lifted a hand. “I’m sorry, that was rude. You’re not hiding out here, you came to see your family and to attend your sister’s wedding.”
Jonas nodded. “I was thinking of bolting out of here, but Jemma’s cooking is too good to pass up.” He lightly bumped her shoulder. “The company isn’t too bad either.”
Was that a compliment? “Wow, color me surprised.”
He turned in his seat to look her directly in the eye. “Actually, I’d like to paint you instead.”
“Huh? Excuse me? Did you say paint?”
Jonas flexed his hands open and closed, watching his fingers work as if seeing them for the first time. “I used to dabble in drawing and painting, but living as a starving artist didn’t appeal. Obviously, my stint in the Army didn’t work out either, so I thought it might be good to get back to my art. I’ll need to drive into town to pick up supplies, so we can’t start until tomorrow.”
Her jaw dropped, not just by his request, which was a doozy, but because he’d actually strung a series of sentences together to make a full paragraph. “Uh, sure. I guess. I’m not sure I’m good artist material or that I can sit still for long periods of time, but happy to help.”
“Thanks.”
Jonas an artist? She hadn’t seen that one coming. They remained sitting in the gazebo, watching the waves when she heard a deep voice from behind her.
“Izabella? I need to talk to you.”
The familiar drawl of Dr. Eli Hackbarth made the hairs on the back of her neck rise in alarm. It took every ounce of willpower not to jump up and scream at him. Instead, she took her time, shifting in her seat so that she could look at him.
The surgeon looked ridiculous standing in the hot June sun wearing his Armani suit.
“I’m sorry.” Ice dripped from her tone. “My lawyer has instructed me not to talk to anyone about the case.”
“Your lawyer?” Hackbarth looked shocked. “You have a lawyer?”
“Why not? You have one.” She sensed Jonas standing beside her and turned to face him. “Let’s go inside, okay?”
“Sure thing.” Jonas drilled Hackbarth with a steely glare as he followed her back inside the B&B. Once they were inside, she let her breath out in a heavy sigh.
“We need to talk,” Jonas said in a low tone.
“Not really. I’m fine.” She walked past him to head up to her room. She was relieved Jonas let her, despite knowing she was far from all right. She wasn’t in the mood to tell him her dark secret. She was more concerned with what had just happened.
How had Eli Hackbarth found her at The McNallys’ B&B?
And what exactly did he want from her?
4
Jonas watched Bella disappear up the stairs, then headed outside intending to confront the guy, a surgeon no doubt, who’d shown up looking for her.
But by the time he’d made his way out to the front of the house, he only caught a brief glimpse of the back of a sports car driving away. To his eye, it appeared to be a black Porsche.
Fit perfectly with his stuck-up image of the guy who’d shown up wearing some ridiculously overpriced suit.
Hearing how both the assumed surgeon and Bella had lawyers was disturbing. Something bad had happened at the Battle Creek VA, and he wanted to know the details.
He turned and headed inside, meeting Jemma in the great room. “Something wrong?”
“Maybe.” He frowned, deciding she needed to know the truth. “Sounds like some sort of legal issue between some surgeon and Bella. He came here to talk, but she sent him on his way.”
“Legal issue?” Jemma’s eyes widened in surprise. “That doesn’t sound good.”
No, it didn’t. But it wasn’t their mess to worry about. Unless the B&B was somehow involved.
“I’m sure she’ll be okay.” He made a mental note to grill Bella for information in the morning before turning his attention to his sister. “Listen, Jemma, give up on the matchmaking, will you?”
“Matchmaking?” Her eyes widened with feigned surprise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. And while I appreciate that you and Jazz have both found love, there’s no reason to push the rest of us in that direction. Especially me. I have enough going on in my life right now, understand? Besides, Bella isn’t interested. No sense in losing a guest over this.”
“I’m not matchmaking,” Jemma insisted, although her gaze skittered from his. “I only invited Bella to dinner to make her feel welcome here, and to repay her kindness in helping you out.”
“Yeah, right.” He didn’t hide his sarcasm. “Just knock it off, okay? Good night.”
“Good night. Oh, and Jonas?”
He paused, glancing at her over his shoulder. “What?”
“Dalton and Jazz could really use your help tomorrow with the loft apartment. If you’re feeling up to it.”
He was surprised to hear they wanted him back after his debacle of a fall. Then again, he could tell Jemma was looking forward to having a bedroom for Trey.
“Yeah, I’ll do my best.” Not to fall flat on my face, he silently added.
“That would be great, thank you, Jonas.” Gratitude shimmered in her tone.
He could feel her anxious gaze on his back as he made his way upstairs. Crutching up was exhausting, and twice he teetered backward, catching himself before he tumbled down on his butt. Man, he had to find a way to get his full strength back, that was for sure.
After popping a couple of ibuprofen, he absolutely refused to take narcotics, Jonas crawled into bed.
Nights were the worst. In the darkness, the images of what he’d experienced when his team had walked into a minefield of hidden bombs haunted him incessantly. He closed his eyes and pictured Bella and the lake in his mind in an effort to ward them off.
When he awoke to the morning sun, he stared at the alarm clock on the bedside ta
ble in surprise. He’d slept through the entire night? He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair, trying to figure out why he’d slept so well. Because he was home with family or because he’d physically exhausted himself helping with the construction project?
Likely a combination of both.
His stomach rumbled with hunger, his appetite having returned full force, so he quickly dressed and headed downstairs to breakfast. The dining room was empty except for Bella, so he dropped into the seat across from her.
“Good morning.” He offered a lopsided smile. “You okay?”
“Of course!” Bella’s smile was forced. “Good morning to you, too. How’s your injury?”
“Fine.” He wanted to say more, but Jemma came out of the kitchen carrying a coffeepot.
“Jonas, what would you like for breakfast? I’m offering the full Irish or eggs Benedict.”
“The full Irish.” He knew Jemma learned to make his grandmother’s signature breakfast and couldn’t wait to taste it again after eating hospital food and rations overseas. Maybe his loss of appetite wasn’t related to being depressed the way the doctor had told him but because he hadn’t been offered any decent food. Until now.
“Two full Irish breakfasts coming right up.” Jemma refilled Bella’s coffee, then headed back into the kitchen.
“Do you need more dressings?” Bella asked.
“Why don’t you take a break from playing nurse for the rest of the day?” The suggestion came out sharper than he intended, so he tried to soften it up by adding, “You’re on vacation, remember?”
Bella shrugged and peered into her mug of coffee as if seeking answers in the dark depths. “I’m heading into town after breakfast, I can give you a ride in if you’d like.”
He wanted nothing more than to get his painting supplies, but he had promised to help in the garage apartment. “I need to help Jazz and Dalton, so I won’t have time until later.”
“Maybe I can help, too?”
He frowned, trying to understand. “You mean help do construction work?”
“Why not?” She met his gaze head-on. “I’m sure there’s something I can do.”
“Blueberry muffins and lemon-poppy seed bread,” Jemma announced, setting a plate on their table. “Your breakfast will be out shortly.”
“Yum.” Bella took a slice of the bread. “Jemma, I’m going to need to take up running if I stay here too long.”
Jonas tried not to dwell on the fact that running wasn’t a part of his future. Yeah, he’d seen pictures of men running with a prosthesis, but he needed to learn to walk first. He helped himself to a blueberry muffin and had to admit it was delicious.
Why had Bella offered to help them work on the apartment? For something to do? Had she realized that spending time in a small town wasn’t as fun as she’d thought?
Soon they were both too busy devouring Jemma’s breakfast to talk further. The full Irish tasted exactly the way his grandmother’s used to, and he had to give Jemma the credit she was due. The McNallys’ B&B will clearly be a huge success based on the food alone.
“That was amazing,” Bella said as she sat back in her chair. “I’m not kidding. I’ll really need to take up running if I’m going to stay here every day.”
“Do you like running?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not really. But I need to do something to stay in shape.”
“There are bikes for rent in town,” he offered. Maybe once he had his prosthesis he’d be able to ride a bicycle. “Might be one way to explore.”
She eyed him over the rim of her mug. “Is that your way of getting rid of me? I get the sense you don’t want my help on the garage apartment.”
He realized she was more perceptive than he gave her credit for. “Hey, you can do what you want. It’s your vacation.”
Jemma came out of the kitchen and smiled when she picked up their empty plates. “Would you like anything else?”
“Not me, but it was absolutely delicious.” Bella’s praise caused his sister’s cheeks to go pink with pride.
“I agree,” he added. “That was the best breakfast I’ve had in two months.”
Jemma’s smile faded. “Two months? You were in the hospital for two months and you didn’t call us until two weeks ago?”
He mentally kicked himself for bringing up his hospitalization. He reached for his crutches and quickly left the dining area without responding to his sister’s accusation.
There was nothing he could say in his defense. And talking about those dark days after his injury wouldn’t help.
All he could do was move forward. Learn to accept his physical limitations while finding a way to live as a civilian.
Easier said than done.
Bella wasn’t sure why she’d offered to work on the garage apartment when she’d never worked on a construction project before in her life. In fact, she wasn’t even sure she liked doing construction work. Did she even know how to drive a nail into a board without injuring herself?
Not likely.
But now that she’d opened her big mouth, she was determined to see it through.
If she were honest with herself, she’d admit that seeing Eli Hackbarth last evening had rattled her and that she didn’t relish the thought of being alone. Crazy? Maybe. It wasn’t as if she lived in fear of the arrogant surgeon.
But she didn’t like the way he’d found her at the B&B either. She’d only told her friend Chrissy about her plans, and Chrissy didn’t much like Hackbarth either. So why would her friend rat her out?
She had no idea.
Bella sat at the dining room table for a long five minutes after Jonas had stalked off. Again, she wasn’t in the mood to deal with family drama, and it seemed that the McNallys had their fair share of problems.
Easier to deal with theirs than to think about her own bleak future.
No family. No fiancé. No job. Ugh!
Enough wallowing in self-pity. She drained her coffee mug and headed up to her room to use the bathroom and to dress in a pair of old cut-off jean shorts and a ratty T-shirt. She pulled on a pair of running shoes, idly considering going for a quick run, then rejecting the idea. Eli Hackbarth had likely already returned to Battle Creek, but she didn’t want to risk running into him on the off chance he’d stuck around.
Implying she had a lawyer had been a bit of an exaggeration. She’d talked to a lawyer friend who’d given her advice, but she hadn’t hired him to take her case.
But Hackbarth didn’t need to know that.
Following the sounds of hammering and upbeat eighties tunes, she made her way to the second story apartment in the garage. Jazz and Jonas were putting up drywall in the kitchen area while Dalton was working in the bathroom nestled between the two bedrooms.
Lifting her voice above the eighties music, she tried to get Dalton’s attention. “What can I do to help?”
He looked up at her. “Hey, Bella, are you sure about this? We’ve never put our guests to work.”
“I bet you don’t invite guests for dinner either, but you did.” She waved a dismissive hand. “I’m here, what do you need?”
“If you’re willing to sand these drywall seams, I can work on finishing up the mudding in the bedrooms. Soon the walls will be ready for paint.”
She eyed the wall and the sander in his hand. How hard could it be? “I can do that.”
“Great.” He handed her the belt sander and a pair of safety goggles, then showed her how to use the sander.
The eighties music wasn’t easy to hear over the vibration of the sander, but she found herself humming along to the melody anyway.
Sanding the seams wasn’t difficult but was time-consuming. She was covered in white dust five minutes into her task. Her thoughts bounced between why Eli Hackbarth had wanted to talk to her and to Jonas and how he was faring with the task of hanging drywall.
After finishing one wall, her arms ached from lifting the sander and moving it down
the drywall seams. Talk about being out of shape! She set it down and bent at the waist, dangling her arms at her sides. After a few minutes, she went back to work on the next wall. Thankfully, there were only three walls to do as the doorway took up most of the space. By the time she finished the second wall, her biceps were screaming in protest. Once again she bent over and dangled her arms, thinking about how she didn’t exactly love construction work.
“Are you okay?”
Jonas’s voice caught her off guard, and she straightened so quickly the room spun for a moment. “Fine!” He stood in the doorway with his crutches, his dark gaze intense. “Why? Did I miss something?”
He didn’t speak for a long moment, his eyes searching hers. She resisted the urge to wipe the dust away, knowing it was useless. Besides, he was covered in dust, too.
“We’ve finished with the drywall. Come check it out.”
She followed him into the open-concept living space. “Looks great. What’s next?”
“More taping and mudding of the drywall seams.” Jazz crossed over to stand next to them. “Once we have that done, we can paint.”
“When do you anticipate finishing this up?” Bella could tell it was coming along, but it also looked as if they had a long way to go. Especially since all she’d done to contribute was sand drywall seams on the bathroom walls.
“Hopefully in a few weeks.” Jazz shrugged, raking her gaze over the area. “Three at the most.”
“Impressive. I bet Jemma can’t wait to move in.” She forced herself to turn back toward the bathroom. “I have another wall to finish.”
“Take a break.” There was a note of steel beneath Jonas’s tone. “I’ll do the last wall in the bathroom. When that’s finished, we can head into town.”
A glance at her watch confirmed they’d only been working for two hours. “Are you sure?”
“Trust me, we appreciate what you’ve done already,” Jazz said. “Thanks to you and Jonas we’re ahead of schedule. I’m a taping queen, but Dalton is better at mudding. After the bathroom is finished, there’s nothing more you can do until it’s time to paint. I mean”—she looked flustered—“if you’re interested in painting, that is. If not, that’s okay, too.”
