Название: Finding His Way Home
Автор: Mia Ross
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474028745
isbn:
“Yeah, it’s my turn. Paul used it when he first came back, then Jason. It’s not fancy, but it runs. Most of the time,” he added with a wry grin.
“My van’s over at the cemetery. If you can give me a lift, I’ll drive it back here so we can put the window in back.”
“Actually, the other day I found some old quilts in the attic of the house. We can wrap the window in those and lay it flat in the bed of the truck. It should travel well enough that way, then I’ll drive you back to get your van.”
His suggestion made the task easier for her but required more effort from him, she realized. She approved his gesture with a smile. “Works for me.”
He retrieved the blankets, and they worked together to cushion the priceless artwork for its short trip across the valley.
Once it was secured in the back of his truck, she strolled over to eye the area beneath the hole they’d just made. “I’m guessing there are pieces of glass in the cavity between the interior and exterior walls.”
Scott groaned. “Sure, tiny ones that broke when they fell outta the frame. You won’t be able to repair them.”
“But I can get the original colors from them,” she argued, refusing to let his pessimistic assessment drown her enthusiasm for this project. “If you want this place to look the way it’s supposed to, having an accurate history of the decor will be important.”
“Decor. You sound like my new sisters-in-law.”
Biting back a sharp comment, she deflected his criticism with her sweetest smile. “What a nice thing to say. Chelsea and Amy are two of my favorite people.”
After a moment, his bravado faded a bit. “Yeah, I can see why. I didn’t mean to insult your friends.”
He clearly meant it as an apology, and she decided to take it that way. “They’re both great people, and if you take the time to get to know them, you won’t be sorry. After all, they’re part of your family now.”
Her gentle suggestion seemed to curdle the air between them, and the wariness he’d shown earlier returned with a cool vengeance. “Thanks for the tip,” he replied in a tone edged with sarcasm.
“Oh, don’t even bother with that,” she scolded, glaring up at him. “Growl and sulk all you want, but I’ve dealt with way tougher customers than you. You don’t scare me for a minute.”
As he studied her intently, his expression shifted from detached to fascinated in a heartbeat. “Tougher than me? When?”
“That’s absolutely none of your business,” she informed him, pivoting on her heel to grab another crowbar from his immaculate toolbox. “Now, do you want to help me or am I taking this wall apart by myself?”
He didn’t reply, and it took all her willpower not to look over her shoulder to gauge his reaction. Doing her best to forget he was even there, she inserted the bar into the rough-cut opening and started prying the dry, cracked boards away from the studs. Before long, Scott appeared beside her, and she braced herself for an arrogant masculine lecture on what she was doing wrong.
Instead, he silently took a position on the other side and began dismantling that section. She’d never have pegged him as the kind of guy who’d let a woman take the lead in anything, and she was more than a little impressed by his accepting attitude.
Of course, he also had a peculiar knack for aggravating her, she reminded herself immediately. Since he was a Barrett, she felt safe assuming his mulish disposition was equal parts inherited and acquired from his punishing recent history. She’d always had a weakness for bad boys, searching for the good in them and more often than not ending up disappointed when she found there wasn’t enough to work with.
It was just as well, she knew. Once she finished her current backlog of projects, she’d be pulling up stakes and joining the circuit of art fairs that made their way through the region every summer. Her allotted year in Barrett’s Mill was almost over, and it was time to move on. Usually, she looked forward to packing up and heading someplace else filled with new people and experiences.
Unfortunately, this time she wasn’t as enthusiastic about her upcoming adventure as she’d been in the past. Sometimes being a gypsy was a lot harder than it looked.
* * *
When they pulled in at Jenna’s studio, there was a familiar beat-up SUV already in the gravel parking lot.
“Were you expecting my mom this morning?” Scott asked as they got out of her van.
“No, but I’m always happy to see her,” Jenna replied with a quick laugh. “When she drops by, she either has something yummy and homemade or a new customer for me.”
“Now I remember where I saw your name,” he said as he waited to open the car door for his mother. She was talking animatedly on her cell phone, so he went on. “Mom and Dad have a painting of yours in their living room.”
“I did the original for Will last fall,” Jenna explained with a melancholy smile. “His cancer got so bad, he really couldn’t move around on his own anymore. He missed going for his walks, so I went out to one of his routes and took some photos, then did up a landscape of the area for him. Your parents liked it so much I painted another one for them. Your dad told me whenever he looks at it, he feels like his father’s still here.”
Only he wasn’t, and Scott swallowed hard around the lump that suddenly clogged his throat. It frequently returned when someone mentioned Granddad, and Scott had no idea how to make it stop. Maybe it never would. Pushing aside the depressing thought, he said, “It was nice of you to do that for them. I know it’s a little late, but thank you.”
“For what?”
“Being so good to my family. Most people I know couldn’t care less about anyone they’re not related to.”
That earned him a long, assessing look. “I think you’ve been hanging out with the wrong kind of people.”
He gave a short laugh, then realized she wasn’t trying to be humorous. Seeking to cover his harsh reaction, he dredged up a crooked smile. “That’s pretty obvious, wouldn’t you say?”
“What’s obvious?” his mother asked through the window she’d lowered when he wasn’t paying attention.
“That it’s good to be home,” he answered smoothly, opening the door for her. Since her hands were empty, he assumed that meant she was bringing Jenna more work. Which was interesting if the lady was intent on leaving soon. Maybe there was more going on than he understood. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Kissing Mom’s cheek, he asked, “What’re you up to today?”
“Nothing much. Running around mostly.”
Dressed in her usual jeans and a simple blouse, she didn’t look like someone who ran herd over a large family and teen centers in both Barrett’s Mill and nearby Cambridge. Her dark eyes snapped with intelligence and the irrepressible humor that charmed everyone she met within ten seconds. More СКАЧАТЬ