A Man 0f His Word (Round-The-Clock Brides Book 4)

by Sandra Steffen

  “I already know you have a penchant for sweets. You washed the plate and fork you used, so I think it’s safe to say you’re well mannered. What’s your favorite kind of movie?”

  “I haven’t seen a movie in years.”

  “Remind me to never watch the Oscars with you. What about music?”

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Besides helping you take a break and have something to drink so you don’t pass out from heatstroke and dehydration, you mean? Short term, I’m trying to fill an awkward silence. The bigger picture is that you’re remodeling my upstairs and will be here for the next four weeks. Which means we’ll be in close proximity. Plus, I like to get to know my friends.”

  “Are you always such a smart aleck?” he said.

  She laughed. “Always. Well?”

  On a groan, he said, “I haven’t thought about my favorite anything in a long time. I don’t have a favorite color.”

  “Everyone has a favorite color. Violet’s is purple and Gracie’s is pink. Jay’s was green. My dad’s was blue. My sister, Marilee’s, is black. If you ever meet her, it’ll make perfect sense.”

  She took another sip of her drink, and he couldn’t stop his gaze from straying to her mouth again.

  “As I said, everyone has one. My friend Lacey’s is turquoise.”

  “The peacock?” he asked before he could stop himself.

  She reacted with mild surprise. “Lacey reminds you of a peacock?”

  “I happen to associate people with animals. It isn’t intentional.”

  She looked fascinated. “It’s automatic then?”

  “I suppose.”

  “What is Gracie?”

  “A unicorn.”

  Both their gazes went to the backyard where her darling little unicorn was trying to pry a plastic watering can out of her sister’s hands. “Give it back!” she yelled, scrambling for it.

  “It’s mine!” Violet screeched, trying to break free of Gracie’s hold.

  “I had it first,” Gracie insisted.

  The yelling quickly escalated into ear-piercing screaming. “A unicorn,” April said, unfazed. “I can see that. What is Violet?”

  “A dragonfly,” he said, although right now they were both leaning more toward banshees. “Are you going to do something about their squabble?”

  “I’m going to give them another minute to work it out.”

  As they watched, Gracie wrangled the watering can out of her sister’s hands, which produced another ear-piercing screech from Violet, followed by, “It’s mine!”

  “You can’t take stuff away from people,” Gracie yelled back. “It’s a rule.”

  “You’re not the boss of me!” Violet retorted.

  Now that she had it in her possession again, Gracie looked the watering can over then promptly handed it back, proving she hadn’t really wanted it; she’d just wanted to be right. “Wanna play princess?” she asked.

  Violet pouted for good measure then dropped the watering can and followed the path her sister took to the playhouse Jay built the summer before he left for the war. He’d gone into great detail in his description of the structure when they’d been stationed together. Now that Cole saw the peaked roof and the gingerbread trim, the little windows with their moveable shutters and window boxes, and the tiny front porch, he understood his friend’s pride.

  “Do they do that often?” he asked.

  “What? Fight? Not as much as my sister and I used to. Did you fight with your siblings?”

  “I was an only child,” he said. “Until my mom got cancer, we moved around a lot for my father’s job. As the new kid, I was in observer mode a lot.”

  “Is that when you started associating people with animals?” April asked.

  He hadn’t thought about it, but perhaps that was how it had begun.

  “Do you associate everyone you meet with some sort of animal?” she asked, undeniably curious.

  “Not everyone. Some people.”

  “People you met at the party the other night?”

  He shrugged and followed her gaze to a yard behind hers where her brother-in-law Will was filling a wading pool for his kids.

  “If Will Avery were an animal, what would he be?” she asked.

  “A dolphin,” Cole said without having to think about it.

  April’s mouth formed a perfect O. “Will is intelligent, communicative, friendly and playful. He would be a great dolphin. What are some of the others you met at the cookout?” she asked.

  Cole didn’t know how they’d come to be talking about this, but he replied, “There was the walking stick.”

  “You mean like the insect?”

  At his nod, he could see her rifling through her guest list in her mind, and knew the moment she came to her neighbor, for she glanced at the house visible over the hedge. “Bernadette Fletcher is my quietest neighbor. She’s nearly six feet tall, and yet she somehow makes herself invisible in a crowd. Amazing.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you kept that little jewel to yourself,” he said. “I’m not sure she’d find the comparison flattering, though from my perspective it’s always a compliment.”

  April rubbed her hands together and smiled, and Cole knew her compliance was going to come at a price. “I won’t mention it on one condition. Tell me at least three more.”

  “Whose do you want to know?” he asked, dragging his gaze from her mouth. Again.

  April considered the possibilities. She’d never heard of anyone, besides her, who made associations like this. Ever since she was a child she’d perceived people as scents and seasons. Gracie was the first daisy to bloom every summer and Violet was homemade strawberry ice cream on the Fourth of July. Although April wanted to know which animal Cole associated with every person he’d met at the party, she started with one of the more colorful and perhaps most misunderstood people she knew.

  “Which animal would Noah Sullivan be?” she asked.

  “He’s the pilot, right?” At her nod, he said, “One of the Shackleford horses.”

  Oh my goodness, yes, April thought as she pictured the famous horses running wild and free on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. “What is my sister-in-law, Gabby?”

  “Is she the strawberry blonde?” he asked.

  With a nod, she explained, “From the beginning, Gabby and I clicked. She has a sixth sense about people, but she’s sly about it. I’m guessing she reminds you of a red fox.”

  He shook his head as if to say, amateur. “A white tiger,” he said.

  “Hmm,” April hummed, for like a white tiger, Gabby was exotic and supple and rare. In a gentle tone of voice, she asked, “What was Jay?”

  Cole hesitated. Then, in a voice that had gone noticeably deeper, he said, “He was a leopard. Now I wish I would have told him that.”

  She swallowed a lump in her throat, for like a leopard, Jay had been sleek, strong and stealthy. There was a saying, a leopard never changed its spots. Similarly, Jay had never wavered from exactly who and what he was. “What am I?” she asked.

  “You are keeping me from my work.” He handed her his empty glass and reached for the roll of insulation at his knee. Hefting it onto his shoulder again, he said, “If you want the girls to move into their rooms before they leave for college, I need to get busy.”

  If April had been able to see his expression, she would have known he was smiling as he went inside with his cumbersome bundle of insulation. Oddly enough, she felt like smiling, too. Perhaps there was something to be said for finding a friend in Cole Cavanaugh.

  Unfortunately, she found that something deep inside her was wishing for more.

  * * *

  On Friday afternoon Cole placed six two-by-fours across the sawhorses in April’s driveway and carefully measured each one. The project was progressing more quickly t
han he’d anticipated. Of course, he hadn’t anticipated unseen help. He’d planned to hire the two teenage kids across the street to carry the insulation and drywall upstairs, but when he’d arrived yesterday he’d found the remainder of the stack had already been carried upstairs. Evidently Jay’s brothers had done the honors the night before. Earlier this morning Bernadette Fletcher’s husband, Neil, had happened to stop by and had helped Cole raise a wall.

  When the rooms were studded in and insulated the crew he’d hired would hang the drywall and finish it. And yet, day by day, he was coming to realize that April’s door truly was always open. She hadn’t been exaggerating about having many friends. Besides those he’d met at the party, he’d been introduced to a wedding planner named Chelsea, a teacher named Yvette and a reporter whose name escaped him.

  Focusing on his work, he drew a line on each board at the proper measurement. Carefully double-checking each mark, he reached for the saw.

  There was a light tap on his shoulder. He jumped straight up. Swinging around, he found April smiling apologetically.

  He removed his ear protection and accepted the tall glass she handed to him. “It’s that time already?”

  She nodded, for this was the third day in a row she’d brought him something cold to drink at shortly after three. “What is Jay’s father?” she asked as he tipped up his glass of sweet peach iced tea.

  Each day the beverage was a different flavor, and each day she pressed him for more animal associations. Yesterday, she’d asked about Jay’s mother, who reminded Cole of a swan, and Jay’s sister, Elizabeth, whom Cole perceived as a cockatoo, and the wedding planner, who was as beautiful and aloof as a Balinese cat. Wearing faded jeans, a sleeveless yellow top and a bracelet made out of turquoise, April patiently sipped her iced tea while she waited for him to answer her question about Jay’s father.

  “A golden eagle,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  He was coming to expect her gaze to stray to some far-off place over his shoulder as she contemplated each association. “I can see that,” she eventually said on a smile identical to the one he’d pictured before falling asleep last night.

  “What about Regan?” she said.

  It took him a few seconds to remember which of Jay’s sisters was Regan. “A zebra.”

  She never tried to hide her surprise and he never tired of witnessing the smile that spread across her face when she’d made sense of his comparison. “I read that no two zebras have identical stripes.”

  “I read that, too,” he said.

  “Then you see her as an exotic and unique member of her herd.”

  “You’re the one who puts it into words.”

  “And what am I?” she asked.

  Cole wasn’t going to answer, and he was pretty sure she knew it. She watched him closely, but didn’t ask him again. She smiled, and he believed she enjoyed these afternoon breaks as much as he did. The only negative he could think of was that another day was passing. And his time here in Orchard Hill was one more day shorter. She folded her arms and tapped one foot in obvious waiting. “Which animal, pray tell, am I?”

  He smiled to himself because he’d known she wouldn’t let this one go. He could have told her which animal she reminded him of, but he wasn’t going to, at least not today. The time wasn’t right yet.

  It only seemed to make her more curious. “Please tell me you don’t see me as a snake or a rat or some slimy horrible creature.”

  “None of the above,” he said with a slow grin that was coming far easier these days. He drained the remainder of his beverage, and with a sincere thank you, he went to his truck to retrieve his phone so he could call the plumber and electrician back. If he was a man prone to whistling he probably would have been whistling some nameless tune.

  Friendship with April Avery felt good.

  * * *

  April started for the house, watching Cole as she went. It seemed to her his gait was getting easier. It seemed to her that he enjoyed their daily breaks. She certainly enjoyed them. She gained a little more insight into Cole’s history and his personality every day. For instance, she’d learned that he’d turned thirty-four in June, and was now slightly older than Jay would ever be. He’d lost his mother to leukemia when he was a child and his father to an aneurysm ten years later. He’d been in one bar fight and had never been arrested or audited by the IRS. Once, when he was ten, he’d fainted from the sight of his own blood. Some of it she’d learned from the background check she’d had run before she’d hired Cole, but she never tired of hearing it in his own words. There was so much more she wanted to know, but today was only Friday. He would be here at least three more weeks.

  She stopped in midstride. If the fact that there was a limited time frame on their association gave her pause, it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault that every day she found herself studying his face, feature by feature, putting it to memory, to be taken out after the girls were fast asleep, either. The truth was, her heart sped up when she heard his car door slam at one minute after eight every morning. She liked him. She liked all her friends. But not like this. She was trying to decide what she was going to do about it.

  She carried their glasses inside, and told herself she didn’t have to decide what do about her burgeoning feelings for Cole today. He would be here at least three more weeks. Suddenly three more weeks did not seem like much time at all.

  Through the kitchen door she watched as Gracie and Violet made their way carefully toward her across the backyard. They’d dressed alike today in tangerine shorts and ruffled shirts tied at the back of their necks. Both cradled something in their arms.

  Heading outside to see what they were up to, she waited at the edge of the patio. “Look, Mama,” Violet called. “Just what I always wanted.”

  They sidled closer, and April saw that they each held an unbelievably tiny gray rabbit in the crooks of their little arms. “There’s two,” Gracie explained patiently. “One for Violet and one for me.”

  “I’ve been praying and praying for a puppy. God musta heard me, ’cause a bunny’s almost as good,” Violet declared excitedly.

  Oh, dear.

  April knelt down on her knees. “They are adorable,” she said, gently touching a finger to the little head of first one bunny and then the other. “Where did you find them?”

  “Under the Daddy Tree,” Gracie answered guilelessly.

  April didn’t know where they’d gotten the name for the small blue spruce Jay had planted after he’d finished their playhouse, but she loved that they called it the Daddy Tree.

  Violet was giving April a guarded look. Growing suspicious of her mother’s intentions, she eased the arm nestling the bunny away.

  Gracie hadn’t caught on to the fact that they couldn’t keep the wild rabbits. With her heart wide-open, she said, “They were sleeping in a nest made out of grass. We never saw rabbits so little.”

  “And did you see their mother rabbit nearby?” April asked.

  Her little girl’s eyes widened, but she didn’t reply, which was answer enough.

  “They’re ours now,” Violet stated. As if she had no intention of broaching any argument from her mother, she hurried to add, “I named mine Bitsy and Gracie’s is Fluffy.”

  “Those are fine names,” April said, noticing that Cole was off his phone now and was coming this way. “I’m sure their mother will appreciate your assistance in naming her children when we take them back to their nest.”

  “I’m not bringin’ mine back,” Violet said.

  “Honey, they’re too little to leave their mother. They’ll get sick if we keep them from her.”

  Cole reached the patio as the first tears were forming in Violet’s eyes. He leaned down. There was sawdust on his jeans and patience in the depths of his brown eyes. “What we have here,” he said matter-of-factly, “are newborn garden rabbits. You two mus
t be extra special because mother rabbits don’t usually allow humans to see their babies when they’re this new.”

  “They don’t?” Gracie asked with innocent wonder.

  He shook his head earnestly.

  April watched her daughters responding to Cole. Young and utterly vulnerable, they looked at him with such trust.

  They’d been beyond excited when she’d taken them school shopping yesterday, but today their chins were down, and their eyes sad, their little hearts breaking. They yearned for a puppy, but puppies required companionship and constant supervision and energy and April was going back to teaching after Labor Day and just didn’t know how she could possibly handle one more responsibility.

  “Their mother is probably watching you from her secret hiding place to make sure you’re being gentle with her babies,” Cole said. “She won’t mind if you hold them for another minute or two. Then you need to put them back in their nest so she can feed them milk.”

  “We have milk in the fridge.” Violet wasn’t giving up.

  “The milk in your refrigerator comes from cows,” Cole explained. “Cow milk would make rabbits this small very sick, so sick they might die.”

  “Uh-uh,” Gracie said.

  “It would?” A tear ran down Violet’s cheek as she turned to her mother for confirmation.

  Tears threatened April’s eyes, too. Nodding gravely, she could see the battle raging within her curly-haired daughter between doing what she wanted more than anything and doing what the rabbits needed to stay alive.

  Her little girls had experienced tragic loss. They’d been affected by death in ways children this young should never be.

  “We’ll go to the store and get the kind of milk they drink then,” Gracie insisted.

  “They drink rabbit milk,” Cole explained. “And only mother rabbits have it. You don’t want them to get sick, do you?”

  Both girls seemed to know it wasn’t a question.

  The bunnies were starting to wiggle. “They’re hungry and afraid,” April said gently. “They want their mother just like you do when you’re afraid.”