“Oh, it’s Tara’s shop,” Becky said, waving her off with a jewel-bedecked hand. “But I do love working here.”
“I can see why. As a matter of fact, I may be interested in buying some things.” Her voice faded as she took in the many pieces of artwork and furniture.
“Oh, for your campers?” Becky examined, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “I don’t think we’ve ever decorated campers before, but I have so many things that would be perfect for glamping!” And with that, she grabbed Katie’s elbow to drag her through the shop.
Stumbling along behind her cousin, Katherine clutched at her bag to keep it on her shoulder. “I—I suppose I’ll need to get—”
“This would look perfect in front of one of the trailers!” Becky announced, stopping next to a vintage parlor dining set.
The round, red, upholstered seats, with bent wire backs shaped into hearts, were charming, Katherine had to admit. The Aljoa was red and silver and would have a red and white striped awning. “They are pretty amazing aren’t they,” she muttered, pulling out a chair to sit and test it.
“You put that on a black and white checkerboard outdoor rug, and it would set the whole scene,” Becky agreed, plopping one hand on her hip as she surveyed the set.
Katherine stood and replaced the chair up to the table. “I’m not ready to start decorating yet, and I need to double check the budget, but I really like these.”
“Sold!” Becky called out, causing Katherine to flinch in surprise. “I’ll put a sign on these and save them for you.”
“Well… are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” Becky huffed, once again grabbing Katie’s elbow to drag her along. “Now then, what about braided rugs, and vintage teapots, and bedspreads?”
Dollar signs rang in front of Katherine’s eyes, and she swallowed hard. “Really, I’m not ready—”
“—and throw pillows, and place settings, and tablecloths…”
Katherine dug in her heels. “Becky! Stop!”
The older woman halted, her eyes wide in astonishment. She’d never heard Katie raise her voice.
Katherine straightened her T-shirt and cleared her throat, working to gain control. After a deep breath, she tried again. “I love your ideas.”
Becky relaxed and made a clucking noise. She was a confident woman, and she knew her junk.
“I just need to plan this out,” Katherine explained. “I have never done anything like this, and I have a budget.”
“Sorry, honey.” Becky said, patting Katie’s shoulder. “I’m used to Tara. She just jumps in with both feet and—”
“No,” Katherine interrupted. “I’m sorry, I’m still figuring this whole thing out.”
“Well, I can tell you’re a natural,” Becky assured her. “You’re going to do just fine.”
Blushing under Becky’s praise, Katherine hoped she was up to the task. She’d been pretty confident that she could learn the rehab and management part of the glamping business, but she hadn’t put near as much thought into the decorating part. “I’m glad you’re here to help me,” she said to her cousin. And for once, she meant it.
* * *
When she heard Alex’s truck rattling down the gravel road, Katherine looked up from her computer. Her stomach did a funny flip-flop, and she rolled her eyes. Lack of sleep, the hot, humid temps, and the sheer stress of not having running water or electricity had worn her down. She had no patience left to deal with Alex.
Ever since lunch the day before, she’d been thinking about his fingers threading into the hair by her ears, and his deep voice murmuring her name. It played over and over in her mind. She’d tried everything to make it stop, including a cold shower out under the tree, but nothing had kept thoughts of him and the almost-kiss from sneaking back into her mind.
Then, to make matters worse, when she’d finally given up on the trailer cooling down and had gone to bed, the damn man had invaded her dreams! It had been young Alex in the dream, and she knew far too much about how it felt to be in his arms. Far more than kisses had awakened her, all sweaty and upset.
She shifted on her stool and tipped up her coffee cup, but it was empty. With a huff, she stood and strode to the fridge, yanked it open, and pulled out a bottle of cold water. With each twist of the water bottle lid, she pictured herself wringing Alex’s neck. It had taken years to get over him! How dare he invade her life, her plans, her dreams, her…
Why was he even here? He’d made it more than clear that he couldn’t wait to get away from Smithville, and he wasn’t coming back. He hadn’t wanted any ties to home binding him down, including her. The Army was going to be his life, the end.
She tipped up the bottle to gulp down water. An ice-cold trickle ran down her chin, neck, her chest, and into her cleavage, causing goosebumps to prickle down her arms. She slammed the bottle down on the counter, nearly sloshing the remainder over the top, but she didn’t care. She had planned and re-planned every single step of this project, from property, to trailers, to supplies, and Alex was not part of the plan.
Sure, she’d seen him at Hershel’s funeral, but she couldn’t have known he’d be involved with the RV park. Now, no matter how many times she tried to work him out of the whole thing, she couldn’t find a way to finish her RV park without his help. She’d even gone so far as to call a few electrical contractors in Uniontown this morning, but of course, they were all booked up for months with spring builds.
She’d actually been more worried about running into her dad than Alex, but that angst had been for nothing. She didn’t know any more about the man now than she ever had.
A little voice in the back of her mind reminded her that her troubles with both men were something she could fix. She could keep her distance from Alex, and she could head into town to ask about her dad, but she knew she’d do neither.
“Fine,” she said in a snit, screwing the lid back on the bottle. “Alex can be here all he wants, but I’ll be damned if he’s going to—” Her traitorous eyes weren’t paying attention, however, and wandered toward the window where they saw Alex open the truck door for Fish to jump down. The little dog ran excitedly in circles, chasing first his tail, then a butterfly. Jumping in the air after the insect, he tried to nip it and missed, falling back into the dirt and weeds and rolling twice. He jumped right back up though and shook vigorously, flinging dirt and dust all over Alex.
Katherine’s lips twitched with a smile, but she turned away, unwilling to find pleasure in anything to do with the man. Collecting her water bottle, she headed back to the counter and plopped down in front of her computer.
She snatched up her pencil and tapped it rhythmically on the counter. Her website was nearly ready, all she had left to do was set up the scheduling part and make it go live. It was truly frightening to think that by tonight people could be registering to come and stay.
Grimacing, she looked over her shoulder. Out the front window, she could see the two sad little trailers sitting in the dirt, unfinished, as well as several of the trenches and half-complete conduit. She sighed and turned back to the computer, rubbing her hands over her face. Would she be ready in time?
The contractor digging the well was due to arrive later today. That was good. She couldn’t wait to have running water. The driller had said that he figured they’d have water flowing by the end of the week. What a huge relief! The thought of taking a long hot shower, and to do it inside the house was so sweet, she couldn’t think of much else.
Except Alex, of course.
“Stop it!” she huffed, dropping the pencil. She got up and paced the width of the tiny living room.
Steve, the plumber she’d contacted, hadn’t called her back to set up a time to dig the trenches for the water lines. It wouldn’t do much good to have the well dug if water couldn’t reach the trailer. Snagging her purse up from the end of the sofa, she fished for her phone, then scrolled through her contacts until she found the plumber. Tapping the screen to connect the call, she
stared out the window, biting the inside of her cheek.
The line clicked, and she perked up. “Hello? Is this Steve? The plumber?”
A voice buzzed on the other end of the line.
She used her professional voice. “This is Katherine Williams, out at the new RV park, I was calling to—” she paused, interrupted by the voice.
“Oh, I’m fine, thank you, I was just calling to—” once again the buzzing voice interrupted her sentence. Her eyes darted back and forth as she listened.
“Yes, the trailers are arriving. I was wondering when—”
Again, the voice halted her question, and she paced across the tiny living room, from the window to the door, and back.
“You’re very kind,” she acknowledged, waving one hand as she spoke, “I love old trailers too, I was just wondering when you—”
The voice interjected again, and she sighed, knowing the conversation would take forever at this rate.
“I suppose…” She continued to pace, waiting for the humming voice as it droned on and on.
“No, no, it’s no trouble,” she assured. “Come by as soon as you can. As a matter of fact, I really need—”
When the voice started again, she pressed her fingertips into one temple and clamped her eyes closed. The voice quieted, and she waited a full second before continuing.
“When can you dig the water lines?” she spat, then let out a long breath, pleased that she’d finally managed to get her question out. But then her face fell, and she dropped onto the end of the sofa. “He did, huh,” she stated flatly.
The voice hummed and murmured, explaining in great detail about excavators being on site and saving her time and money.
Her eyes rolled toward the window where she could see Alex connecting the lead on the stake to Fish’s harness. Resignation crossed her face, and she shook her head. “I understand. That’s fine. Thank you.”
No longer hearing what the voice said, she watched Alex head back toward his truck. So he’d offered to dig the lines, had he?
Then her brow lowered. Was Alex limping? It was hard to tell on the uneven ground, but…
She stood to wander to the window, her expression blank. No longer paying attention, she clicked to end to the call.
Alex stopped at the tailgate of his truck and yanked it open, then bent to rub one hand absently up and down his thigh as he looked over his tools. He glanced up then as if he somehow knew she was watching, and Katherine jumped to one side of the window, not wanting him to know she was looking.
What had happened? Had Alex hurt his leg yesterday? She hadn’t noticed him having any trouble, and she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off him. She hadn’t seen him get hurt. Then in a flash, a blinding realization fell on her, and she knew.
Her stomach dropped like a rock, and her ears rang. Alex had been injured in the Army, and that was why he came home. A mix of emotions flooded her system: horror, sadness, and for some reason guilt. Maybe because she hadn’t been enough to keep him home?
She perched blindly on the side of one bar stool. How bad had it been? When? Did— There was no end to the questions swirling in her mind, battering her heart.
Of course, she’d known the military was dangerous, but she didn’t know he’d been overseas or been shot at. How could she not have known? It was obvious! Had she been so lost in her own issues, dealing with the loss of her mother, that she hadn’t stopped to consider that Alex could have been killed? He could have been dead all these years, and she wouldn’t have even known! They’d been so young, so sure of themselves, so… indestructible. He’d been larger than life, so brave, so smart, and—
While she’d been working in the safe, quiet library, he’d been…
She sprang to her feet, knowing that she’d seen only her side of the story for ten years. What had it been like for the overconfident, happy boy who’d loved books and searched for shooting stars to be tossed into the middle of a war?
* * *
Alex rolled up a zip-lock baggie and wound electrical tape around the zipper end. Fish barked, and he glanced up to be sure the little dog was okay. Satisfied that the puppy was fine, he proceeded to tie the end of a roll of kite string to the baggie, just under the tape. Giving it a good jerk to be sure it was tight, he let it fall to the ground. Next, he took a foot-long piece of plastic conduit and pounded it into the ground at the end of the trench and inserted one end of the string roller into the top of the pipe and gave it a tug to be sure the string could unwind smoothly. Picking up the baggie, he reached for the conduit and stuffed the baggie into the end of the plastic pipe, then let it fall back in the trench. Finally, he hefted up the spool of electrical wire and tromped to the other end of the conduit and set it down, ready to be pulled back through the conduit.
Heading toward his truck, he wished he could pull the wire without needing to bother Katie, but it was only right to ask before he plugged anything into her generator. This was the quickest and easiest way to fish the line through the conduit, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with complicated tools. His leg was bothering him something fierce today, and it made him feel not only uncomfortable but also feel like an invalid. The sooner the lines were done, the sooner he could start on the meters. Standing didn’t bother him as much as walking on the uneven ground, and maybe his leg would calm down a bit.
Still dreading the knock on her door, he stopped at the truck to pull out the shop vac. He unwound the cord, then plugged the end into an extension cord. He looked up at her front door and sighed, knowing he had to get it over with, so, unwinding the chord as he walked, he headed toward her trailer, rehearsing what he was going to say. It shouldn’t be such a damn big deal to ask a customer if it was okay for him to plug in a tool -- then again, he didn’t usually try to kiss his customers.
He raised his hand, gave her door two sharp raps, then stepped back to give the door room to swing out. It took a moment longer for Katie to answer than he’d expected, so the words were on his lips, ready to go, until his eye met hers. Something had happened, it was obvious in her expression. The question he’d intended to ask was lost. Her demeanor was off, giving him pause. “What— what happened?” he stuttered.
Katherine gave herself a shake. Her cheeks turned pink. “Oh, I’m fine, come in.”
His eyes narrowed, and he watched her, leery, as he headed up the steps.
Katherine fussed, avoiding eye contact. “Did you need something?”
Her words were right, but her actions seemed forced. Admittedly, he didn’t know her all that well anymore, but she felt stiff, overly polite, and there was something in her voice.
The silence was deafening.
“What are you working on today?” she finally asked, motioning toward the window. Her voice was a bit too animated.
He hesitated to answer, still considering her behavior. “I wanted to know if I could plug into your generator for a few minutes. I need to run the shop vac.”
His words surprised her, and she glanced toward the window and back. “I don’t care, but what are you going to vacuum?”
He chuckled. “No, I’m using it to suction the line and pull wire. “
Her brows lowered in thought. “Oh. I don’t mind.”
Even though she seemed to have recovered, he couldn’t help but notice her gaze drop to his bad leg then bounce back to his face.
So that was it. She’d heard about his injury, and now she was worried that he couldn’t finish the job. Well, he wasn’t going to screw it up, and he certainly didn’t need her pity!
“Thanks,” he spat, far too gruff, then stomped past her to yank open the door. He hurried stiffly down the steps and bent to scoop up the end of the extension cord, leaving her to stare after him through the open door.
Once the shop vac was plugged in, he headed across the field toward the conduit and trenches, not even trying to hide his limp. He stuck the end of the vacuum hose over the end of the pipe, then flipped the switch on the vacuum. The baggie on the stri
ng rattled through the pipe, pulled by the suction, and the spool of string twisted and jumped, unwinding at the other end of the conduit. It was an old army trick they used when they didn’t have the right tools, but it got the job done.
Scowling, he shut off the shop vac and used his pocket knife to cut the baggie off the end of the string. He tied the string onto the end of the wire, then secured it with a few wraps of electrical tape.
As he tromped back down to the other end of the conduit to pull the wire back through, his thigh aching and burning with each step, all he could think about was Katie’s sympathetic, yet curious glance at his leg.
Damn her. Damn her all to hell.
Chapter Thirteen
Fish padded back and forth across Mac’s front lawn, nosing under bushes and sniffing around trees. Alex stuck his hand into a blue plastic bag, turned it inside out like a glove, and waited impatiently for the dog to do his business. He looked up, squinting into the falling darkness. It was getting late, and he was exhausted. Hours spent bending and gluing the conduit had taken a toll. Add dealing with Katie on top of that, and he was flat out ready to drop. At least the conduit was nearly finished.
“Hurry up, little dog,” he mumbled, flexing his fingers inside the bag.
A box truck rattled down the road toward him, and Alex recognized the driver. He raised his bagless hand in greeting. The truck clanked and bumped to a stop, and the driver jumped down and headed his way.
“How’s it going?” the tall, well-muscled man called out. “It’s been forever!”
“Hey, Chad,” Alex said, offering his old friend a one-armed man-hug and thump on the back.
“I knew you were home, but I never made it over here,” Chad apologized, stepping back. “You look great! I dig the beard.”
With one eye on the puppy, Alex shrugged. “It’s good to see you too. I hear you moved into the old haunted place down on the highway.”
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