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Home at Chestnut Creek Page 35

by Laura Drake


  “I call dibs on the end of the couch,” she said.

  Deke raised his hand. “I get the recliner for helping unload stuff.”

  Allie sat down at the kitchen table and unzipped her knee boots. “I’ve had all of these I can stand for one day.”

  Blake took one look at her mismatched socks and chuckled. “Good-lookin’ socks there, darlin’. They make the outfit.”

  She held up her feet and wiggled her toes. “I’ve got another pair like them somewhere in the house but I can’t find them. If Lizzy had pushed me toward Grady one more time, I planned to take off my boots in church to embarrass her.”

  “You are one wicked lady.” Blake smiled.

  “Not me!” Her smile was straight from heaven. “I’m just a carpenter who fixes roofs and does remodel jobs on houses.”

  “A beautiful, sexy carpenter who looks right gorgeous with a hammer in her hands,” Blake said.

  “Y’all going to jaw all day in there or are we going to watch our movie?” Deke called out.

  “We’re on the way and I don’t want to hear a word about my socks,” Allie said as she made her way from kitchen to living room.

  Blake kicked off his boots and settled on the other end of the long leather sofa from Allie. Halfway though the movie she pulled her legs up and stretched them out toward him and he did the same, situating his on the outside. He moved his right one slightly so that it touched hers, and she didn’t jerk it away or give him a dirty look.

  Progress! By damn! That was progress.

  A month ago he would have been telling some woman good-bye that he’d spent the weekend with, maybe saying that he’d call her with no intentions of ever doing so. Or maybe she’d walk him to the door and tell him that it had been fun but one weekend of fun with him was all a woman could handle. Tonight he was almost shouting because Allie hadn’t moved her leg away from his. Toby wouldn’t believe it or understand if he tried to tell him, and forget about saying anything to Jud. He was the loudest of the three about staying a bachelor until his dying breath.

  “I’m pausing the show for a bathroom break. I’ll bring in some beers on my way back,” Deke said.

  Allie shifted positions and her foot touched his hip. He picked it up and put it in his lap and began to massage it and suddenly, things weren’t boring at all.

  “God, that feels good,” she said.

  “I’m not God,” Blake said.

  “You know what I mean.”

  He pulled the other foot over and worked on it. “You are too tense, woman. Loosen up and enjoy life.”

  She eased her feet back and tucked them under her, pulling the sweater dress down to cover them.

  “He’s right.” Deke set three beers on the coffee table and settled back into the recliner. “You should have more fun.”

  “Y’all are ganging up on me,” she said. “Turn the movie back on. I like Crazy Cora more and more as the story plays out. I don’t think she’s nearly as crazy as everyone thinks.”

  Layers, Deke had said. Was one of Allie’s layers nothing but a protective coating against men since her husband left her?

  Chapter Eleven

  On Monday morning five inches of snow had turned the countryside around Dry Creek into a winter wonderland. The wind had died down and there had been a glorious sunrise that morning. The weight of wet snow was heavy on the mesquite and scrub oak tree branches. Cardinals dotted the white landscape like little rose petals dropped from heaven to add color to the new monochromatic picture.

  The beauty wouldn’t last long. Cars, trucks, and other vehicles would soon leave their tracks. Animals had to leave behind footprints. Cattle would stir up the snow, and by nightfall, if the sun stayed out, what was left would turn to mud that would freeze by morning. But later didn’t matter as Allie drove slowly from Audrey’s Place to the Lucky Penny. Right then, that moment, when everything looked like a fairy tale, that’s what mattered.

  The Lucky Penny house was empty when she arrived and somehow it looked even worse without Deke and Blake there. Without those two big cowboys to talk to her or at least to each other while she listened, she noticed the ugly paint on the walls, the nasty stains on the ceilings, and the scuffed marks on the woodwork even more.

  She sighed when she reached the bedroom and then smiled. It reminded her of Cinderella in her rags, kind of like the muddy mess the snow would make when it melted. But in a week, the room would be the princess in all her glory with its new paint job, pretty new ceiling, shiny hardwood floors, and that big beautiful king-size bed taking center stage. Then it would be as fresh and pretty as the morning with nothing marring the beauty of fresh-fallen snow.

  The bare lightbulb would be replaced by the six-blade oak fan with a lovely school-glass light kit. It had been the last one in stock and on a seventy-five percent off sale so she’d bought it on a whim, and now she was having second thoughts. He might have asked what she’d do to the room if she had to sleep in it the rest of her life, but he hadn’t meant she could go off half-cocked and buy something without even asking him about it.

  First she had to tear out the nasty old before she could put in the shiny new. She smiled as she thought of her father saying those very words every time they started a new job.

  As brittle as the old drywall was, it wouldn’t be nice and come down in four-by-eight sheets. It would fall in chunks of every size that would throw white powder and mildew dust everywhere. She shut the door and opened the window.

  Sure it would get cold but she’d dressed in thermal underwear, cargo pants, an old cotton western shirt, and insulated coveralls. She put her earbuds in and pushed the button on the tiny little MP3 player tucked into her pocket.

  George Strait entertained her as she brought down the ceiling a piece at a time and then went back to remove all the nails from the ceiling joists. It was close to noon when she finished. The room was still filled with a fog of white powder and the old carpet would never be usable again, not with that much white powder ground down into the fibers.

  With the music in her ears she didn’t know anyone was in the house until Blake touched her on the ankle. She jerked the earbud out and frowned. “You scared the shit out of me. Don’t sneak up on a woman holding a hammer.”

  He grinned. “Sorry about that. I called your name when I came in and a couple more times as I came this way. Want some help? The dozer is bogging down in the snow. Deke and Herman have plenty to keep them busy with what I’ve already got piled up. Crazy, even with the snow it’s not as cold as it was over the weekend.”

  “There isn’t any wind. That makes a difference. Got a hammer?”

  “Of course.”

  She nodded. “Then yes, you can help get these nails out and then we’ll be ready to hang the Sheetrock after we have dinner.”

  He was only gone a few minutes before he returned wearing a pair of coveralls like hers and carrying a hammer. “Seems colder in here than it does outside, don’t it?”

  “Yep,” she said.

  His biceps strained the seams of the camouflage coveralls as he popped one nail after another from the ceiling rafters. Keeping her eyes uplifted and concentrating on her own job was not easy for Allie. More than once, she found herself pausing to stare at the ease with which he reached up with that heavy hammer, hung the claw on a nail head, and pulled it free without so much as a grunt.

  Riley had hated quiet. If they had nothing to talk about, then he turned on the television. Even if he didn’t watch it, he wanted noise at all times. Blake seemed perfectly comfortable working in silence with her, and she liked that. The screeching sound of nail after nail coming out of an old rafter was better than music.

  That’s when she remembered the tiny player in her coverall’s pocket and pulled it out, turned it off, and was returning it when they heard a loud rapping on the front door.

  Blake laid the hammer on the floor. “Be right back. Can’t imagine who is here.”

  The claw of the hammer was hung in a nail
when Allie heard a familiar raspy giggle. She eased it back down and laid it on the top of the ladder. Two backward steps and her boots hit the floor. Five steps forward and she opened the door a crack and peeked. Yep, she’d been right. It was Sharlene and she was handing off a six-pack of beer to Blake.

  She patted his cheek affectionately. “I was up in Wichita Falls over the weekend and thought you might need this. I know you have lots of food but a man cannot live by bread alone, he must have beer.”

  “Thank you.” Blake’s smile lit up the whole dingy room. “Bless your heart for thinking of me. And truer words were never spoken. I’ll put this in the refrigerator. Want a cup of coffee to take the chill off?”

  “No, darlin’, not today, but I’m still waiting on your call.” Sharlene rolled up slightly on her toes, cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him long, hard, and leaving no doubt tongue was involved. “Although, I might be willing to be late if there was something more than coffee involved.”

  Allie had to fight the sudden urge to throw her hammer at Sharlene. She did owe Blake. He had, after all, helped her pull nails for the last hour and a half, so she should help him out of the pickle. But then who’s to say he wanted out of the situation? A streak of hot jealousy shot through her veins as she slammed the door into the bedroom and headed up the hallway.

  “Hey Blake, is it time to put in one of those casseroles?” She talked loudly and put on her best innocent face. “Oh, hello, Sharlene. I was in the back room with the door shut and didn’t realize you were here. Blake, is it time to warm up one of those casseroles for dinner?”

  “I was just leaving,” Sharlene stammered. “You think about what I said, darlin’.” She winked at Blake and hurried out the front door.

  “What took you so long?” he asked.

  “Was it good?”

  Blake frowned. “What?”

  “How does kissing a smoker taste? I always thought it would be like licking the bottom of an ashtray,” she said.

  Blake’s laughter echoed off the walls.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “You are funny and you are right. I need a glass of sweet tea to get the taste out of my mouth. Want one?”

  “No, I’m going to finish up that last corner so we can hang drywall after we eat. Holler when dinner is ready.” She returned to the cold room, shut the door firmly, put her earbuds back in place, and went back to work. When Mr. George started singing “You Can’t Make a Heart Love Somebody,” tears came out of nowhere and streamed down her face. She crawled off the ladder, pulled the mask off, threw it on the floor with the broken wallboard, removed a glove, and brushed the tears away with her bare hand.

  The lyrics reminded her of what Riley said when he finally admitted that he was having an affair. He said it was all her fault because she wouldn’t stay at home and be a wife, especially since she couldn’t be a mother. When she hadn’t gotten pregnant in those two years, he said he’d go to the doctor for a checkup. He came home with the news it wasn’t him so she didn’t need to go. And like the lyrics of the song said, she couldn’t make him love her.

  She hadn’t cried that day so why were the tears flowing now? She slid down the wall, bowed her head, and listened to the next song—“Today My World Slipped Away.”

  The song fit that day when Riley told Allie all about his new love, Greta. Riley said they had looked at each other across the top of that new Ford Mustang he had just sold her and he was smitten. She was the most beautiful, feminine woman in the whole world, and he had found his soul mate. Of course, it did help that she was a trust fund baby and he would be cashing in on that dividend check that came every month.

  Why did she have to face off with all those memories that day? She wiped the tears again, leaving streaks of dust and grime on her cheeks like war paint. Her father’s words came back again telling her to finish tearing out the old so she would be ready for the shiny new. Until that moment she hadn’t realized how tightly she’d held on to the past, to the anger and the pain, but it had to go.

  She raised her head and stared at the big gaping hole where the ceiling had been. Trusses, the bottom of roof decking, ceiling joists—all visible but the old ugly stuff had been ripped away. It was symbolic of what she had to do to move on with her life.

  The old had been torn out of her heart and soul, but suddenly fear gripped her when she thought of taking a step forward. She’d been in limbo for so many years she didn’t know if she could trust her feet to take even a baby step, she was so scared of falling on her face…again.

  She looked out the open window at the bright sunshine and then up at the rafters. Instead of an answer to the multitude of questions plaguing her, she heard the back door slam and heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. She swiped a hand across her face to get rid of the last of the tears and stood up.

  “Can we open the door?” Deke yelled.

  She made her way across the cluttered floor. “It’s a mess. Enter at your own risk.”

  The door eased open and warmth flowed in. Deke’s silhouette filled the doorway. Leaning against the doorjamb with one leg slightly bent in those tight jeans, he was almost as dirty as she was. Twigs and leaves stuck to his flannel shirt as well as his hair.

  “You got a lot done to be workin’ alone.” His gaze started at the hole where the ceiling used to be, traveled to the open window and carpet, and then slowly inched its way from her work boots to the top of her head. He grinned when he saw all the white dust in her hair. “Holy shit, Allie! You’re going to grow up to look like your granny.”

  “Thank you so much for that, Deke! I may look like shit but I got the worst of the job done, and Blake helped me pull nails for more than an hour so that helped a lot.” She smarted off back at him.

  “Hey, I’m statin’ facts not startin’ a fight,” he said.

  “Good, because I’m sure not in the mood for a fight!” She pushed her way past him. “See y’all in the kitchen after I clean up.”

  When she looked in the mirror above the wall-hung sink in the bathroom, sure enough there was Irene Miller staring back at her. The streaks from tears mixing with dirt and dust had created pseudo-wrinkles down her cheeks. Her dark hair had a coating of white dust all the way to her scalp and her eyes were slightly swollen from crying.

  That she looked like shit didn’t bother her half as much as the fact that Sharlene had seen her looking like that. She stripped out of her coveralls and left them lying on the bathroom floor. Her work pants and T-shirt were in good shape since they’d been covered up. However, the insulated underwear was getting pretty warm now that she was out of the chilly room. So she took off everything down to her underpants and bra and picked up a washcloth to work on her face.

  One more glance in the mirror and she realized that she’d never brush all that grime from her hair. She found towels on the shelves above the toilet, along with shampoo. She pulled the curtain around the tub and hoped that the drain didn’t clog. She hated doing plumbing work.

  “I promise to wear a hat next time I take down drywall.” She stepped into the tub and let the hot water rinse away tears, dirt, and dust from her body and hair.

  When she finished, the woman in the mirror smiled at her. “Hello, I haven’t seen you since before you married Riley. I thought I’d lost you forever.”

  The grin widened.

  She redressed, leaving her work boots sitting on the floor beside her coveralls and long underwear. The phone in her hip pocket rang at the same time she stepped out into the hallway.

  “Hello, Mama,” she said.

  “I need you to stop what you are doing by one o’clock. I have to take your grandmother to Wichita Falls this afternoon for a doctor’s appointment. I forgot all about it until I looked at the calendar. You’ll need to mind the store.” Katy sounded frantic.

  “It’s okay, Mama. I’m at a really good stopping point. I’ve got the ceiling down in the master bedroom.” Allie stopped and leaned against the wall. �
�Is one early enough? I can come on right now if you want me to.”

  “The main roads are clear from here to there but we’re in for more snow tonight. I just want to get up there, get it done, and get home before the roads get slick. I’m not lookin’ forward to driving in it. Are you eating dinner with Blake and Deke?” Katy asked.

  “Yes, but I could eat whatever you’ve made in the store. It’s no big deal,” she answered.

  “Go on and eat your dinner. One o’clock will be fine. Thank goodness the sun melted some of this already,” Katy said.

  Allie ran a hand through her hair and realized she hadn’t taken time to brush it. “Want me to take her?”

  “No, I have to be there to sign papers and talk to them about a new medication they want to try. See you in an hour.”

  She went back to the bathroom, ran the brush she found on the shelf beside the shampoo through her damp hair, and put it back on the shelf. Then she padded to the kitchen in her socks.

  “Cinderella emerges.” Blake set a pot of beans on the table. “I thought I heard the shower pipes rattling. Did you find everything you needed?”

  She nodded. “Maybe I should have asked.”

  Blake patted her on the shoulder. “Friends make themselves at home. Your timing is great. Food’s on the table. Beans with ham hock, fried okra, and sweet potato casserole.”

  Allie pulled out a chair and eased into it. “I’m hungry. You won’t get any fight out of me.”

  “I’ll do the honors.” Deke picked up a ladle and filled Allie’s bowl first. “Herman showed up this morning with a crew and I swear he’s cutting and stackin’ wood as fast as Blake and the bulldozer can pile it up.”

  “How are you doin’ with the wood business, Deke?” Allie scooped sweet potatoes onto her plate and added several spoons of okra to the side before passing both off to Blake.

  Their fingertips brushed and sparks danced around the room. Life wasn’t fair. Not thirty minutes ago Sharlene had her tongue in his mouth and yet, a simple touch had created enough electricity to jack her pulse up. Her mind wandered and she had to play fast catch-up when it came back to the kitchen and Deke was answering her question.

 

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