“It’s kind of run-down now,” she said. “The whole place will need some work.”
Toto just shook his head. “I have a feeling it will sell well and sell soon.” He raised up his glass again. “Here’s to becoming the home it was meant to be.”
Dorothy clinked her glass against his but never felt less like celebrating.
Chapter Nine
Brad picked up the ringing phone. “Donnelly Tree Service.”
“Brad? It’s Penny.”
He knew that. He’d known it as soon as the phone had rung, centuries before he had picked it up. His heart had beat faster, his breath had been caught in his throat.
“You okay?” he asked. “Your ankle’s not bothering you, is it?”
“I’m fine,” she said, her impatience with the question quite obvious. “Hey, we’re running behind and we aren’t going to make all the scheduled jobs today. I need you to call the Sharpes and the Miluskis and see if tomorrow’s okay. Give them our apologies and all that. This tree at the Braxtons’ is just giving us fits.”
“Don’t try to do it all yourself,” he said quickly. He could just see her and her chain saw up in a tree.
“Just make the calls, Brad.” The second ice age had started. “The telephone numbers are on the work orders.”
“I mean it, Penny. That’s what you have crews for.”
“And make sure Gran takes it easy when she gets back home, will you? I don’t want a repeat of yesterday.” Then she hung up the phone.
A repeat of yesterday? Aunty Em getting sick, or Penny leaning on him? He had the sinking suspicion it was the latter, but he shouldn’t be surprised. She was so damn independent that she couldn’t lean on anybody more than a minute or two. And after she did, she had to run out and be doubly independent.
He frowned at the computer screen in front of him, but not really seeing it. He had the awful feeling that was what she was doing now—something stupid to prove she was still just as strong as before.
He looked at the notes in his hand about the calls he had to make and then at the clock. He had another hour until he had to pick up Aunty Em from physical therapy. These calls shouldn’t take more than a few minutes, and then he could drive over to the Braxtons’ and see just what was going on.
Great plan. He flipped through the work orders on the desk but didn’t find what he was looking for. He glanced at the top of the pile. No wonder, these were completed jobs. So, where were the scheduled ones?
He began to dig through another pile of papers. Nope, not in this one. Maybe—
“Oh, damn it.” He’d knocked a folder of papers off the desk, scattering them over the trailer floor. “Nuts.”
He got down on his knees and began to scoop them up, then stopped. This was the folder Penny had had in the Pizza Prince when she had met Alex last week. And these papers were all school papers. Notes. Assignments. First drafts of papers.
Brad tried not to look, really he did, but it was hard not to see the notes scribbled in red across the papers, or the grades—C’s and C pluses mostly, an occasional B minus—on the tops. Aunty Em had told him that Penny was majoring in English literature, but looking at the papers and then the office of a successful business, he couldn’t figure out why. She had a knack for business. Why wasn’t she majoring in that? She’d probably be getting A’s and B’s if she did.
A sound at the door sent him scrambling to his feet, but he still had the folder in his hand when Aunty Em came in the door.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “I was supposed to pick you up.” He glanced at the clock with a frown. No, it was just past three. “Did I get the time wrong?”
She came in all the way and closed the door behind her. “No, all I had left were some little exercises I can do here and Marilyn was going so she gave me a ride.”
“I would have come.”
“I know you would have.” She sat down in the spare chair. “What’s that in your hand? Looks like Penny’s folder.”
He looked down at it as if seeing it there for the first time. “I knocked it down. It was in one of the piles on the desk.”
“Oh, yeah? Penny must have left it in here. Not like her. She’s usually so careful with her stuff. Guess that’s why she’s getting such good grades.” She pushed herself to her feet. “Well, just wanted to let you know I was back. I’m going over to the house to do my exercises.”
“Why is Penny majoring in English literature?” Brad asked.
“Why not?” Aunty Em just shrugged. “I guess she likes it.”
“I would have thought business would be more in her line,” Brad said. “She’s doing so well here that she must be a natural at it.”
Aunty Em laughed. “Well, if grades are any indication, she’s a natural at English literature, too. Getting all sorts of honors.”
Brad looked down at the folder in his hand, then back up at the old woman. “Oh?” He tightened his hold on the folder though Aunty Em didn’t look like she was going to make a flying tackle to take it away.
“Not that she shows me her work or nothing. She’s never liked to brag. But I saw one of her papers last spring. It was an A, and I just know her others are, as well. She’s as smart as they come and I keep telling her how proud I am.”
“You should be,” he said and stuck the folder back on the desk, under some papers. “But not just about her schoolwork. She’s doing so well with the business—I imagine you’re proud of her for that.”
“But you know Penny. Some things don’t count in her mind. And some do.” Aunty Em just waved her hand as she walked slowly over to the door. “I’ll be back to take over here after I do my exercises. This is no place for a man to be working.”
“A man works wherever he’s needed,” Brad said. “You stay in the house and take it easy. I’ve got everything under control here.”
What did he do now? He could go check on Penny and let Aunty Em man the office or he could stay here and keep the older woman from overdoing it. Either way, someone would be mad at him and someone would be on their own. How did he ever get mixed up with two such stubborn, know-it-all, independent women?
Brad never did make it out to check on Penny. By the time he finished his assigned calls, tomorrow’s schedule needed redoing. Then he decided he’d better move the boxes of old files into the storage shed before Penny or Aunty Em decided they would move them. And since he was going that way anyway, he might as well pull the other outdated files that ought to go into storage next.
When he got back to the trailer, Aunty Em was at the computer. “You aren’t supposed to be here,” he told her.
“We’ve been taking advantage of you for too long,” she said, keeping her eyes on the computer screen. “Weren’t you supposed to see Matt Harris today?”
“No,” he said. “He was getting back from vacation today. I didn’t have an appointment to see him.”
“So, call Nancy and make one.”
Brad wheeled the chair back slightly and turned it so she faced him. “How about if you go back to the house and let me finish what I was doing?” He took her arm and gently raised her to her feet.
She allowed him to walk with her toward the door. “You’re doing too much for us. Penny better be paying you.”
“Don’t you dare talk to her about that,” Brad said. “Or I’ll have to start paying you room and board.”
She stopped. “No, you don’t. Room and board was in exchange for helping me investigate Alex.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “I’m thinking we can ease up on our investigation. She hasn’t mentioned him for days.”
“That’s fine.”
But when Brad opened the trailer door, he heard Penny’s truck coming up the lane. He and Aunty Em waited on the trailer steps as she pulled into the yard and parked under the oak.
“You’re home early,” Aunty Em said.
“You okay?” Brad asked.
Penny gave Aunty Em a smile and him a glare, then closed her truck door. “I jus
t thought I’d quit a little early and get cleaned up. I’m going out tonight.”
Brad and Aunty Em followed her across the yard. “Out where?” Aunty Em asked the question on Brad’s lips.
“With Alex,” Penny replied and hurried up the steps into the kitchen. “If you haven’t started dinner yet, don’t make any for me.”
She was already halfway to her room by the time Brad and Aunty Em got into the kitchen. Aunty Em grew visibly more annoyed.
“I thought she was done with him,” Aunty Em said and threw her cane up against the counter. “Why can’t she see he’s no good for her?”
“Maybe they planned it ages ago.”
“Hmph. She could’ve canceled.”
“She’s too polite.”
But he wasn’t feeling any better than Aunty Em. His talk with Alex hadn’t reassured him at all. And obviously his own support at the emergency room yesterday meant nothing, not in the long run.
“Maybe you need to work him over,” Aunty Em said. “Rough him up a bit until he promises to leave her alone.”
“I don’t think violence is the answer. I’d just get arrested and then where would we be?”
“You sure are scared of getting arrested.”
“Aunty Em,” Brad said with a sigh. “Maybe he’s what Penny wants.”
“But he isn’t right for her.”
Brad felt weary all of a sudden. “That’s not for us to decide.”
“Even if we know he can’t make her happy?”
This was a no-win conversation and the more they talked, the heavier his heart felt. Not that it had any business being that way. Penny was free to do what she wanted, when she wanted and with whom she wanted. It was nothing to him. Nothing at all.
“How about some dinner?” he said to Aunty Em. “You sit and I’m going to make you my world-famous noodle omelet.”
Aunty Em looked less than excited, but she put on a good show, insisting on helping him chop the onions and green peppers while he cooked the noodles and beat the eggs. After he’d made the omelet, she slowly ate her share. But then he wasn’t all that hungry, either. The thought of Penny and that jerk Alex gnawed at him. The idea of Penny in his arms twisted in his gut. The image of Alex kissing her was enough to make him want to throw his plate of food against the wall. What was she thinking of?
Penny came down as they were finishing eating. Her blond hair was still damp from her shower and her skin was aglow. She looked fresh and lovely and alive. And it was all for Alex.
Brad pushed his plate away, no longer able to eat. He needed to get out of town. He didn’t belong here anymore. Probably never did.
“What’s the matter, hon?” Aunty Em asked Penny.
Brad turned. Penny was flipping through some papers lying on top of the phone book. She wore a definite frown on her face.
“I can’t find my folder,” Penny muttered, “I usually keep it in my room but it wasn’t there.”
Much as he’d like to keep her from her date with Alex, Brad couldn’t stand to see that worried look in her eyes. “I think it’s in the office,” he said.
She looked startled, and even more worried if that was possible. “How could—” She stopped and her face seemed to fall. “I must have left it there after working yesterday.”
Grabbing up her purse, she hurried out the door. Through the screen, they could see her dash across the yard and into the trailer.
“What kind of date is it that she has to bring her schoolwork?” Aunty Ern grumbled. “Does he give her a test to see if she’s smart enough to spend an evening with him?”
But Brad was watching the closed trailer door. It didn’t take that long to walk across and pick up the folder.
“I’d better see if she’s having trouble finding it.” In a few broad strides he was at the screen door.
“Steal her truck keys,” Aunty Em said, getting to her feet. “Let the air out of her tires. Kiss her until she comes to her senses.”
Brad gave the old woman a look, then went outside. Well, they were interesting ideas, he had to admit. Though Penny was liable to slug him if he tried to take her keys. And he doubted he had time to let the air out of her tires. But now, kissing her until she changed her mind did sound doable. Or at least, tryable.
Penny knew the minute that she pulled the folder out from under the papers that it had been opened. Her papers were sticking out slightly and her current essay wasn’t on top anymore. Her heart sank into her toes. Brad knew. It had to be him. And what if he told Gran? This whole thing would become common knowledge.
She blinked back a stinging in her eyes. Damn him, anyway. Why did he have to come back?
Hearing a noise at the door, she spun around. It was Brad, those darn broad shoulders of bis filling up the doorway, his soft smile wreaking havoc in her heart.
“I just wanted to make sure you found it.” His voice was as gentle as it had been years ago when she didn’t know her verb forms. His eyes held that same shadow of pity.
For some wild reason, she wanted to burst into tears. How could he spoil everything like this? He had thought she was smart and he had treated her like an equal. Now he would feel sorry for her again. And she just couldn’t bear that. A fire flared up and she let anger have the upper hand. She’d rather have him hate her, than pity her.
“I found it all right,” she snapped. “And you had no right to look in it.”
“I didn’t mean to.” He came in and let the door close behind him.
The room suddenly got way too small. Penny gulped down her pain and tears. “Yeah, right. You didn’t mean to. Like you didn’t have any choice.”
Clutching the stupid folder to her chest, she marched toward him. He stepped aside and she gave the door a mighty shove.
“Penny, wait,” he said, putting his hand on her arm. “It fell when I was looking through the work orders and I picked it up. I wasn’t trying to snoop or anything.”
She pulled away so that his hand fell. “But you still looked at the papers,” she said, wanting and praying that he would deny it and they could pretend it hadn’t happened.
But he couldn’t. His eyes said it before his words even tried.
“So what if I saw your papers?” he said, his voice losing some of its softness. “I don’t give a damn about them. I’m more interested in why you’re going out with Alex again.”
“Why? You think I’m not smart enough for him?”
“I never said that.” His eyes narrowed in irritation; his lips were a tight angry line. “I think he’s a jerk and you’re too good for him.”
“Yeah, right.” She pushed past him and practically ran to her truck.
In the space of half a second, she had climbed in and had the motor running, but she needn’t have worried. He was still at the trailer door, watching her but doing nothing to stop her.
She turned away and backed the truck up, then sped down the lane. Damn. Damn. Damn. Everything was ruined now. No matter if she was invited to speak at that conference, she’d seen that look of pity in Brad’s eyes and that was all that counted. It had taken her eighteen years to forget it, and then it was back in a split second.
She turned the truck onto the county road but slowed down. It was a warm sunny evening, the birds were singing their hearts out, and the scent of millions of flowers seemed to ride on the air. And she was miserable.
The closer she got to town, the slower she went. Good thing there wasn’t much traffic. She came to the road to Alex’s house but turned around instead, then pulled off to the side of the road and picked up her cellular phone. Alex answered on the first ring.
“I can’t make it tonight,” she told him. “Something’s come up.”
“Okay. No problem. Want to make it tomorrow night instead?”
“Let me call you tomorrow,” she said. “I don’t know.”
“Are you all right?” he asked suddenly and she could hear his frown.
“Just tired,” she said. “It’s been a hellish day.
”
She hung up and then pulled back on the road, but she didn’t drive home. She just drove. South past the acres and acres of corn that grew here each summer. East into Valparaiso and past the old quaint homes in the center of town that had lasted a century or more. Then back up north on backroads that wandered up and down hills and around curves and past stands of oaks that had been huge since before the Civil War. Finally as it was getting dark, she pulled into the nursery driveway and parked the truck in the yard.
For a long moment, she just sat there, staring at the house. She wasn’t angry anymore so much as tired. Lights were on in the kitchen and living room and she could see the flickering bluish glow from the television set. Gran and Brad were probably watching TV. She ought to join them and—
There was another sound from back of the barn. A dull thud. Then another and another. She got out of the truck and walked slowly past the storage shed. Brad had found the old basketball and was shooting baskets in the dim glow from one of the yard lights. He either heard her or sensed her, for he turned as soon as she stepped from the shadows.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” She nodded toward the ball in his hand. “I wouldn’t have thought that had much air in it.”
“It doesn’t, but it’s got enough for my skill level.” He tossed the ball up again and it bounced off the backboard and away from the basket. He ran it down.
“Gives you an excuse, is what you mean.”
He held the ball out. “Want to shoot a few?”
She shook her head and sat down on the overturned wheelbarrow. “I would hate to show you up.”
He just grimaced, but let it pass, and came over to stretch out on the grass next to her. “I’m sorry about the folder.”
She nodded and looked away into the growing shadows. “That’s okay. I shouldn’t have left it lying around.”
They went silent again, waiting for the world to take a couple of spins. He rolled the ball slightly on the grass, then looked up.
“What do you see in Alex?”
She sighed. The wheelbarrow wasn’t a very comfortable chair and she moved to the grass instead. It was cool and tickled her bare legs. Almost enough to make her smile. “He’s a nice guy,” she finally said.
If I Only Had A...Husband (The Bridal Circle #1) Page 15