The Bowen Bride

by Nicole Burnham

  “If it’s okay with you, Katie, can I ask a favor? Could you let me know what’s happening with Mandy? Nothing personal about her relationship with Kevin or anything like that—it’s just, well, if she does go through with this, I’d like a heads-up ahead of time. And as awful as it sounds, you might actually know what’s going on with her before I do.” At least if he and Mandy continued to argue as they had the past two weeks.

  Katie’s eyebrows shot up. “Jared Porter, are you asking me to spy on your daughter?”

  Chapter 3

  “No. No spying,” Jared assured her. ‘‘But if you could let me know what decision she makes regarding the dress, I would really appreciate it. You know, when she wants it finished or if she gives you a wedding date. I assume she’s going to tell me herself, but just in case.”

  She stared at him for a moment, and he had no doubt she intended to make him squirm. It wasn’t her job to report to him, even if he was paying the bills.

  He exhaled, knowing he’d asked too much. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “I’ll tell you what,” she said, then jerked a thumb at the tools he’d stashed in the back of the truck. “You done for the day?”

  “Not quite. I have one more quick job. An hour or so, tops. Why?”

  “When you’re done, why don’t you swing by my shop? I need to run a quick errand over in Herman, but then I’ll be back in the shop. I think we can work something out. Can you be there by 6:30?”

  He nodded, puzzled, but curious enough to see what she had in mind. He climbed in his truck and did a quick three-point turn, giving Katie more room to back out her own vehicle without catching a tire in the soft mud on either side of the hard-packed drive. As he passed the Volkswagen, however, he slowed and rolled down his window. She didn’t see him at first, since she was turned away to fasten her belt, but when she straightened, she immediately rolled down her window.

  “You like turkey?”

  At her frown, he continued, “From Montfort’s. Mandy’s having dinner with one of her friends tonight so they can go over a student council project, so I was planning to grab a sandwich for dinner. I’ll bring you one if you want.”

  A slow smile spread across her face, instantly warming him. “Turkey would be great. Whole wheat with lettuce, tomato, and provolone, if you don’t mind. And tons of pickles.”

  Okay, maybe the pickles weren’t such a good idea. Maybe none of this was a good idea, starting with her decision to stop by the Kleins’ when she spotted Jared’s truck in the drive. Because now he was sitting in the middle of The Bowen Bride, and for some insane reason, her nerves refused to settle.

  Katie pulled her sandwich from the familiar brown paper Montfort’s bag, ran a hand over the checkerboard silo of its logo to flatten it for recycling, then set out sodas for herself and Jared while he took a large bite of his roast beef on Italian. He sat in the same chair Mandy had occupied only a few hours earlier, a scant three feet in front of her at the small table in the shop’s main room.

  “Evelyn and Gloria Montfort make the best subs anywhere,” she commented a moment later, after savoring her first bite of turkey and provolone.

  “Agreed. Mandy’s a vegetarian, so she’s always giving me looks when I have the roast beef, but I don’t care.” He took a long drink of his soda, then set it down, staring at the two mannequins in the window for a moment before turning his attention to her. “So you said we could work something out. What’d you mean by that?”

  So much for small talk. “It’s my understanding you build cabinets.”

  A pair of horizontal lines appeared just below his hairline. “I do all the finish carpentry for Porter Construction. Trim work. Fireplace mantels. Cabinets when someone wants something custom.”

  She swallowed a bite of her turkey sandwich. “Well, you need me to do something a little unusual in my line of business and let you know when your daughter comes in. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”

  “I shouldn’t have—”

  “Hear me out. I think there’s a way for you to keep tabs on Mandy that doesn’t require me to call you whenever she comes in. But it’ll require you to do something a little unusual in your line of business for me.”

  She expected him to be wary, but he merely shrugged. “You own your own business. I don’t. I work for my brother, Stewart. He owns eighty percent of the company. So my answer is: it depends on how unusual.’’

  She set down her sandwich, then crossed the room to stand behind her battered counter. Using both hands, she gave the entire thing a shove, which caused it to tip about an inch. “As you know, my grandma used to run this shop. I’m afraid this is original. My grandfather installed this for her just before I was born.’’

  “Must be ancient,” he teased.

  “Makes you wonder how it could possibly be standing,” she retorted with a grin. “It had a lot of use during my grandma’s years here, and was beat to death between the time she retired and I took over.”

  “There was a liquor store here, right?”

  “Mitch Harding ran it. He owns Husker Spirits down in Blair. You know, that massive place on the south side? He has a sister and a couple of brothers here in Bowen, and he rented this space from my family as a test when he was thinking of opening a second, full-size location here, for one of them to manage. He did well enough, but when I decided to take over, I think he was just as happy to consolidate and keep his entire operation under one roof.”

  Jared nodded. “Mitch is a good guy, but I could tell his heart wasn’t in it. Not like his place in Blair.”

  “Exactly. But the place did enough business to give the counter a workout. Every time I place a bolt of fabric on top of this thing, or someone leans on it hard, I’m afraid it’s going to go. It’s been a bit beyond my budget to do anything about it, especially since I did so much exterior work last year, putting in new windows and replacing the awning.”

  His eyes twinkled with mischief. “So you’re saying I’m going to have to work for the information?”

  “I’d pay you, of course, I just—”

  “I’m kidding.” He stood, then walked to the counter and placed his hands near hers, giving the entire structure a shake. “If it’s just the fact it’s loose that bothers you, I could fix that in a jif. And you could always paint the wood to update the look. But I take it you want something entirely new?”

  “I’ve been gradually renovating the shop so it looks as nice as the rest of the places on Main Street, and it bothers me that this is the first thing customers see when they walk in the door.” She screwed up her mouth, making it clear she knew he was only being polite. Anyone who wouldn’t want a replacement would be sorely lacking in taste. “I loved my grandfather dearly, but I feel like it’s the kind of thing the Professor might’ve slapped together for Gilligan and the crew. Not the impression I want to give. So yes, a new one is definitely in order, along with a new countertop. I mean, avocado-green Formica? Nothing can justify that. Plus, I want better drawers and cupboards underneath and a shelf at the end, where I can keep my design books. Something more functional, given the way I do business.”

  Jared took a step back, studied the counter, then walked around it. “You have plenty of floor space. If you wanted, I could do something a little bigger. It wouldn’t impede the walking area, but it’d give you usable space for office supplies and the shelving you need for your design books. Oak if you want something durable that looks nice, although distressed pine would look good in here, too. Pine would hide the wear and tear it’ll likely get over the years.”

  ‘‘I’ve always liked the look of natural maple. Light and bright, you know?”

  Amusement danced in his eyes. “It’s more expensive, but for you, I think I can cut a deal.”

  She extended her hand. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say. The same goes for you on the dress. We can work out budgets for both projects that make sense. And I’ll cross my fingers right along with you that Mandy
opts against marriage. For now, at least. And you’ll be able to keep tabs on her yourself, because you’ll be coming by the shop to work on the cabinets. I’ll give you a call and let you know when it’s convenient for you to come by, if you know what I mean.”

  He laughed and took her hand, and she forced down the inward shiver that resulted from his touch. Jared had nice hands. Strong, capable. “It’s a deal. You’re going to have the cabinets of your dreams. And thanks, Katie. I really appreciate it.”

  She let go of his hand. She shook men’s hands all the time. Nothing special about Jared’s, right? Just a hand attached to a guy. “I’ve put off fixing that lousy counter forever, and having you come by the shop gave me the perfect excuse—”

  “No, I meant about Mandy. Thanks for understanding, and for not telling me I’m a rotten, evil father, whether you’re of the opinion I should just lock her up in her bedroom until she gets over it, or you figure I should butt out and let her run her own life because she’s nearly an adult.”

  “I’d never think or say either of those things. She’s at that stage where it’s hard to know what to do. Trust me when I say that nearly all girls that age are emotional train wrecks.”

  He murmured his agreement. “I just don’t want her making a huge mistake.”

  Katie returned to her chair, unfolding her Montfort’s napkin and flattening it on her lap as she sat. “I think any father who encourages his child to pursue her dreams and who works hard every single day so she has that chance, is a father who’s doing pretty well.”

  He shot her a smile of thanks, then dropped back into his chair and took another sip of his soda. “Your parents encourage you?”

  “It was just me and my dad. My mom passed away right after I was born. And yes, he encouraged me…to get married and have kids.”

  She couldn’t help but grin, envisioning her dad’s face when she’d announced that her plans for the future didn’t involve staying in Bowen. Or even in Nebraska. “Not that he wanted me married at seventeen, of course, but let’s just say he wasn’t especially thrilled when I stood in the living room one afternoon during my senior year and confessed that I’d used some of my spending money to send out a couple extra college applications. I gave him this entire speech I’d practiced about how I wanted to go to school in Boston, since I’d been accepted out there, and about how this didn’t change anything between us, and that my decision to move away didn’t have anything to do with him. A nightmare of rambling teen logic.”

  Jared mocked putting a knife to his chest. “Ouch. I feel your father’s pain. Though I wish Mandy had only told me she wants to go out of state to college. Rebelling by attending a faraway school is one thing. Rebelling by getting married is another. If you decide you made a mistake in your choice of college, you can always transfer. Not so with marriage, at least not without more serious consequences."

  A look flashed across his face, and Katie wasn’t sure how to interpret it, whether he regretted implying that Katie had been acting rebellious by moving to Boston or whether he was trying to hide his curiosity about why she’d gone in the first place—and then come home.

  The look disappeared quickly, though, and he added, “Don’t get me wrong. I like that Mandy’s independent. She simply shouldn’t take what’s best for me into her decisions.”

  “Like deciding to go to a friend’s house for dinner instead of celebrating her dad’s birthday with him at home?”

  Jared froze with his sandwich an inch from his mouth. “Come again?”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to sing. But happy birthday.”

  He lowered his head, but a smile played at the edge of his lips as he muttered, “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “I know this isn’t the fanciest dinner, but hey, no one deserves to go home to an empty house on their birthday.” She did it nearly every year, but then again, she lived alone. Jared didn’t.

  “Mandy told you?” He said before taking another bite of his sandwich. His demeanor was casual, but she sensed she’d poked a tender spot.

  “She did.”

  He eyed her, then the empty deli bag. “So was this really about the cabinets? You didn’t just ask me here for a pity date, did you?”

  “Eating deli sandwiches in a Main Street bridal salon is pretty pitiful, if that’s what you mean by a pity date.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She leaned back from the table and studied him. He might be worried and exhausted, between the demands of single parenthood and the time he spent working for Stewart, but he still had laugh lines around his eyes. Definitely laugh lines, not crow’s feet. “I legitimately want cabinets. And it can’t possibly be a pity date since you’re the one who offered to bring sandwiches. Until you offered, I had no idea that you weren’t having dinner at home with Mandy.”

  “Fair enough. I guess I invited myself for a pity date.” He polished off his sandwich, then wadded up the wrapper and fired it at the trash can.

  “Nice shot.”

  “Should be. I played varsity all four years. I’d kind of hoped Mandy would play basketball, too. I’m not much good helping her with volleyball.” As he said the word volleyball, the horizontal worry lines slashed his forehead again. “So what time did Mandy come in here, anyway?”

  “Around three thirty. Maybe four.” She shot her own sandwich wrapper at the trash can. It skittered around the edge, then fell in. “You think she might’ve gone home after all? When she told me it was your birthday, she sounded surprised, as if she’d just remembered the date herself.”

  “Nah. She knows I don’t get hung up on stuff like that.” He stood, took a final sip of his soda, then eyed the bottom of the cup for condensation before setting it to the side. Katie had never noticed a male so deliberate with his drink, and she wondered if it came from years of keeping house for himself. He took care not to make unnecessary messes.

  He pushed back from the table. “Why don’t I call you later?”

  Katie’s stomach did a flip-flop. Was he asking her out? For real, and not a casual get-together, like tonight’s?

  “Um, sure. That’d be fine.” Maybe. A relationship with anyone in Bowen tended to be public, and she definitely didn’t want that. Too many expectations, especially when she was just beginning to feel confident and adjusted to her new life and career.

  “I’ll sketch out a few ideas for your counter and provide estimates. Oh, and I’ll check my calendar to see when I can get started, assuming you’re happy with my ideas.”

  Katie nodded as she opened the door for Jared. ‘‘Thanks, that sounds perfect. I’m sure I’ll be very happy with anything you do.”

  But when he passed her, his black T-shirt brushing her arm, happiness wasn’t the first emotion that washed through her. It was more like disappointment, though why she’d be disappointed Jared didn’t plan to call for a date confounded her.

  She pulled the door shut then locked it.

  Okay, he was a nice guy. He cared a lot about his daughter and her well-being. But Katie wasn’t looking for a relationship, at least nothing more serious than a partner to accompany her to the town’s fireworks display on the Fourth or to sit with at the town’s Little League games. Someone who’d bring a six-pack of beer to her house to watch the Super Bowl without making comments about how women didn’t get football.

  Surely she wasn’t developing a crush on Jared, was she? She’d only met the man this morning. She hadn’t really wanted him to say he’d be calling for a date.

  No way.

  Jared drummed his fingers along the top of his steering wheel as he eased onto Main Street. Dinner with Katie had been casual, bordering on business related, given the discussion about her counter, but it left him with the lingering sensation he’d been on a successful, relaxing date. It wasn’t a date, of course, not even a pity date. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t imagine it.

  Imagination, he’d discovered, was a useful tool, one that provided the mental breaks necessary
to remain on an even keel when dealing with Stewart, Mandy, or anyone else.

  Jared punched a button on the dashboard, changing the station from the local sports report. As the trees gracing the rolling hills along the Missouri River started their transition from bright green to reddish orange, the tension level in the entire state wound tighter and tighter with each Cornhusker injury report or roster shift. Jared usually got wound up right along with everyone else, but today college talk only reminded him of Mandy and what he could possibly do to ensure she’d be enrolled next fall, and with the last name Porter rather than Durban.

  He needed a rock and roll station, maybe a tune with angry edges. He surfed stations for a few minutes, then clicked off the radio, deciding that he preferred to let his mind wander back to Katie Schmidt.

  Why was she alone? Or was she? Surely there was a significant other somewhere. If so, Jared envied the guy. No, he told himself, there couldn’t be anyone. Stewart would’ve said something if “gorgeous” Katie was seeing someone. Since he talked to half the town in the course of his business dealings, Stewart was almost as keyed into who was seeing whom as Fred Winston.

  Jared reached the end of a bright-green alfalfa field bordering Highway 75, slowed his truck, then turned onto a dirt road that cut a narrow path between the alfalfa and his neighbor’s cornfield. A quarter mile later, at a break in the corn, he made a right onto his own long driveway.

  He wasn’t thrilled coming home to an empty house, but figured he oughta get used to it. No matter what happened with Kevin, a year from now Mandy would be out of the house. Perhaps the loneliness burned a little hotter in his chest tonight since it was his birthday.

  He set his mouth as he moved the gearshift into park. Mandy was the best thing that ever happened to him, whether she remembered his birthday or not. Kids were kids, and they shouldn’t be expected to remember their parents’ birthdays.