Lakeside Sweethearts

by Lisa Jordan

“These floors will need to be sanded. Otherwise we may have a tripping hazard with these uneven boards. We can’t risk a lawsuit by having someone get hurt.”

  “I’ll add that to the to-do list. What do you think of Agnes’s suggestions?”

  Ian rubbed a hand across his jaw. “Maybe we should keep the walls white.”

  Agnes scrunched up her face. “White? These women have been looking at prison drab for who knows how long? Let’s give them something to refresh their spirits.”

  He looked up with eyebrows raised. “You think they’ll care?”

  Did he know anything about women?

  “Absolutely. We want this home to be welcoming from the moment they walk through the door.”

  “That’s the first time you called this house a home.” Ian straightened and dusted the dirt off the seat of his jeans.

  Agnes shrugged. “It will be by the time I’m finished with it.”

  “Ernie at Shelby Lake Hardware offered three five-gallon buckets of white paint. If you want each room a different color, that’s almost twenty-five bucks a can. That’ll eat at our budget. Then we won’t have a house in any color, no matter how welcoming you want it to be.”

  “You’ve got to trust my judgment, Ian. I can stay within budget, no matter the wall color.”

  “I do trust you, Red, but why is wall color a big deal?”

  “It determines the rest of the decisions about furnishings.”

  What was it about men and this house, thinking they had to make all the decisions? She and Bobby had had a similar argument when they moved in. Of course, he won. “Like I said—trust my judgment or find someone else to oversee this.”

  “Mom, what do you think?”

  “Oh, sure. Go to your mama.” Agnes threw her hands in the air and rolled her eyes. “Of course she’s going to side with you.”

  Charlotte looked up from her notes and crossed her arms. “I haven’t heard you two bicker like this since that Shelby Lake Golden Paddle race you did together and nearly flipped your canoe.”

  Ian jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Agnes. “If she would have sat like I told her, then we wouldn’t have tipped.”

  Agnes planted her hands on her hips. “If you hadn’t been showing off for Nikki Pearson, then the boat wouldn’t have been rocking.”

  Charlotte dropped the notepad on the mantel and raised her hands. “Doesn’t matter who was right and who was wrong. You took first place and made it home before the storm hit. Now let’s talk about something we can change.” She turned to Ian. “You two make a great team because eventually you do manage to compromise. Agnes is right—these rooms do need personality.”

  Agnes wrangled her tongue to keep it from slipping between her lips in a childish gesture.

  Then Charlotte turned to her. “Agnes, Ian’s right about the budget—we don’t have a lot of wiggle room. When community business owners are willing to donate, we use what they’re offering. They receive free advertising in exchange for their generosity.”

  Agnes peeked at Ian over Charlotte’s shoulder and rolled her eyes at his silent na-na-na taunt.

  “Let’s stick to white walls, but allow Agnes to choose the accent colors of each room. We do need to trust her judgment, Ian. She’s not going to tell you how to fix the roof.”

  “Give her time.” Ian’s grumble made Agnes’s lips twitch, but she kept quiet. No sense in poking the bear.

  Charlotte’s cell phone chimed. She retrieved it from the side pocket of her purse and glanced at the screen. “I have to take this. Think you two can handle the rest of the house without adult supervision?”

  “I’m ready to start scrubbing. Some of my best ideas come while elbow deep in Lysol water.”

  “No problem. At least allow Ian to give you a tour of the upstairs so you have an idea of what we’re working with to help with your brainstorming.”

  “No need, Charlotte. I used to live here, remember? I know the upstairs better than both of you.” She gestured across the ceiling. “Bedroom. Bedroom. Full bath. Bedroom. And down the little hall, another small bedroom.” The same room she planned to paint yellow and decorate with zoo animals.

  “Oh, that’s right.” She gave them quick hugs, then headed to the front door.

  Ian glanced at his watch. “Griffin’s going to be home from school soon. I need to meet his bus. Then we’ll come back and give you a hand.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Do your thing. I’m going to start scrubbing these walls to get them ready to paint.” Agnes headed for the entryway to retrieve the bucket of cleaning supplies.

  Ian reached for her elbow as she brushed past. “Try to understand, Red.”

  Agnes glanced at his face, then looked away, shrugging. “I feel like you’re trying to control what I do.”

  “I have to answer to the board about how much we spend. I don’t want to waste it on something as trivial as paint.”

  “This isn’t about paint, but you not letting me do the job you hired—” Agnes made air quotes around the word hired “—me to do. If you want to micromanage every detail, then find someone else to coordinate, because I’m not going to be controlled in this house again.”

  “I’m not Bobby, Red.” He glanced at his watch again. “Even though you’re familiar with the upstairs, I’m not. Let’s check it out quickly before I have to get Griffin.”

  Her eyes jerked to the staircase, a coil of unease twisting in the pit of her stomach. Had he forgotten the meltdown from the other day? “You go ahead.”

  “Red, I understand your hesitation, but put your painful past to rest. I’ll help you—one step at a time.” He stretched out a hand toward her.

  Ian was right—she couldn’t let the staircase haunt her forever. And with him being there, maybe it wouldn’t be as daunting.

  Agnes trudged to the staircase, placed one hand on the nicked banister and put her other in his. His fingers enveloped hers, radiating strength and warmth. She gave him a wobbly smile.

  He nodded toward the stairs and tugging gently on her arm. Her chest tightened.

  “Take one step, Red.”

  As she placed a foot on the next step, hazy images from the past rose before her eyes like mist floating over the lake. She squeezed her eyes shut to prevent them from coming into focus.

  Her heart thrummed as she forced air into her lungs and took another step. Sweat beaded on her upper lip. She lifted a shaky hand to wipe it away. Her stomach churned.

  “You’re doing great.” Ian’s tone reminded her of listening to Nick coaxing Noah into taking his first steps.

  Heat curled up her neck and settled across her cheeks. She didn’t need to be encouraged like a toddler. She was a grown woman. She could do this.

  She let go of Ian’s hand and took a couple more steps.

  Ian went ahead a few steps and turned, his wide shoulders blocking her view up the stairs. He scowled, then swept an open palm above her head.

  She flinched. For only a split second.

  “Red?”

  She hadn’t realized she had closed her eyes until she opened them to find him standing in front of her. She put her hands up and stepped back but lost her footing.

  He reached out and caught her.

  Her heart picked up speed as she became aware of his tight grip on her arms. The way he stood over her with that scowl…she disappointed him, too. Would he think she wasn’t worthy of being a part of this project? Or would he tire of her and find someone else? Someone who wouldn’t challenge his suggestions?

  Ian’s eyes widened. He released her gently and took a step back with hands raised.

  What had she done?

  She blinked several times until clarity erased the fog around her brain. Then reality set in.

  She turned and hurried down the couple of steps, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes, and drew in a shuddering breath.

  “Red?”

  In through the nose, out through the mouth.

  The focused breathing slowed he
r racing heart.

  “There was a spiderweb hanging down. I didn’t want you to run into it.” He touched her elbow gently, his voice quiet, almost whisperlike. “I would never hurt you.”

  “I know, Ian.” Her voice sounded raspy.

  She dropped her gaze to the thirsty, neglected floor.

  She needed to bring lemon oil. To rub it into the wood. To bring back the shine.

  Ian moved in front of her, lifted her chin with his index finger and scanned her face. A muscle jumped in the side of his jaw as he clenched his teeth. “Why…” Ian stepped away and dragged a hand threw his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice caught on the last word.

  She bit her bottom lip to steady her trembling jaw and blinked away pressure building behind her eyes. A tear slipped over her lower lashes and trailed down her cheek.

  “It was only a couple of times.” Her shame had surfaced, and now what would he think of her?

  “Once is too many. You hear me?” Ian crushed her to his chest. “Why didn’t you come to me? I would have protected you.”

  The anguish in his gentle tone severed her last band of restraint. She twisted her fists into the folds of his T-shirt and soaked the fabric with her tears. His arms curled around her, his cheek resting on the top of her head.

  Her chest shuddered as her tears dried on her cheeks. She rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes, trying to erase the evidence of her humiliation.

  She should move away. She should apologize. She should make notes about the other rooms. She should race up the stairs to prove she wasn’t a coward.

  But, for that moment, she just wanted to rest her ear against his chest and listen to his beating heart.

  The fibers of his T-shirt held the scent of his laundry detergent mixed with his deodorant. The strength of his embrace shielded her from her haunted past, melting her fears.

  Ian pulled back and cradled her face with both hands, his fingers threading in her hair. He kept his gaze steady with hers. “No one will ever hurt you again. Ever. You are safe with me.”

  As his words soaked in, Agnes searched his face and cupped his jaw. “I know.”

  She placed a hand on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath her palm. Filled with a courage she lacked moments ago, Agnes rose on her tiptoes and brushed a gentle kiss across his parted lips.

  He disentangled his hands from her hair and placed them on her shoulders. His questioning eyes searched her face. “Red—”

  She pressed a finger against his lips. “You’re my dragon slayer, Ian. I feel safe here because of you.”

  *

  Red had kissed him. And he should have been thrilled.

  But she was caught up in a whirlpool of emotions, and the kiss was meant as a thank-you. He couldn’t read more into it.

  The gentle brush of her lips over his…he wanted to drown himself in her embrace, but he’d done enough to spook her.

  Still, he couldn’t help remember the first kiss they’d shared all those years ago.

  It was the night of her senior prom. After finishing finals, he’d come home for the summer a day early and escorted her to the dance after her date had come down with strep throat.

  After the prom, they’d sat on the dock talking about their futures. She’d looked so beautiful in the moonlight that he’d seized the moment. Then she’d admitted she liked him more than a friend. And he’d turned her down.

  What a fool he’d been. But he was only a sophomore in college, and she was about to head off to Texas for school. He hadn’t wanted to tie her down.

  Talk about wasted years, especially her time with Bobby.

  If he had exposed his heart that night, then Red never would have had to suffer at that jerk’s hands.

  He swung the ax with both hands and split the log in two. Sweat soaked the bandanna tied around his forehead. His muscles trembled from exhaustion. He grabbed both pieces with gloved hands and stacked them on the growing pile behind the garage.

  He arched his back, stretching out his muscles. His wet T-shirt stuck to his skin.

  Thirty feet away, the lake lapped at the shore with a peaceful rhythm. Birds whistled and chirped from the trees overhead. Somewhere along the bank, a duck quacked. Sunshine danced on the surface of the water. He breathed in the scent of pine, wet leaves and fresh air. A haven of rest and relaxation.

  But he felt anything but refreshed.

  He kicked up another short log with the toe of his beat-up work boot and steadied it on the tree stump. He brought the ax down with force. The split halves fell to the ground.

  Kicking them out of the way, he picked up another piece of wood.

  He’d continue splitting until he could erase what had happened before the kiss. He hadn’t given a second thought to brushing away the spider. But now the fear in Red’s eyes had been engraved in his memory.

  He knew things hadn’t been great with Red and Bobby for years before their marriage fell apart. At Bobby’s request, well, more like demand, Ian kept his distance while they were married. But if she had even hinted Bobby hurt her, Ian would have made sure she didn’t live with that fear again.

  At least now he knew a little more why being in that house haunted her so much.

  He didn’t care if the man hit her only once. It was one time too many.

  Mom rounded the corner of the garage. She’d changed out of her work clothes into jeans and a Shelby Lake Lions T-shirt. She handed him a glass of lemonade. “I thought you were going to have someone else cut up this dead tree and haul it away since you didn’t have time.

  “Change of plans.” He took the glass and chugged half in a couple of gulps. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then set the glass on the ground out of the way.

  Mom surveyed the stack of wood behind the garage, then looked at him with concern. “Where’s Griffin?”

  “Jimmy invited him over for dinner.” Ian nodded to their neighbor’s house, steadied another log on the stump and swung the ax.

  “You okay?” Mom kneeled in front of the side flower bed that ran the length of the house and started weeding.

  “He hit her, Mom.” An ache swelled within the cavity of his chest, threatening to squeeze the breath from his lungs.

  Mom looked up and twisted to sit on the rock border. “Who, honey?”

  Ian whipped his soaked bandanna off and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his grimy T-shirt. He swallowed several times. “That…jerk. Bobby. He hit her. And Red never told me.”

  “Oh, honey, how awful for her. I’m surprised Mary never said anything.”

  He brushed matted wood fibers off his sweaty arms. “She may not know.”

  Mom frowned. “Even though Agnes is a private person, I’d be surprised if she kept her mother in the dark about something like that. How did you find out?”

  Ian relayed what had happened on the stairs at Agape House.

  “Then what happened?”

  “We…talked for a few minutes, and then I had to leave and get Griffin.”

  He hadn’t wanted to leave her there alone to wrestle the ghosts by herself. He’d wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her again. But he needed to take his time and wait until he could do it when she wouldn’t mistake his intentions in any way.

  “I think there’s more. You know? Something else that happened that she’s not telling me.” He shared about Agnes bailing on him the first time they checked out the place together.

  “You’re a great friend, Ian. Being in that house is causing her to relive a painful time in her life. Be patient and willing to listen when she’s ready to talk.”

  He reached for his glass and drained the rest of the lemonade. “I’m always here for her.”

  The sun dipped behind the trees as the evening breeze stirred the leaves with its cooling breath.

  Ian walked to the edge of bank, slipped his hands in his back pockets and stared at the water. Mom followed, sticks crunching beneath her feet.

  “What if she doesn
’t talk about it? What if she keeps it bottled up and has a meltdown, but I’m not there to protect her?”

  “Honey, you can’t be everyone’s protector.”

  “I can be hers.” His eyes burned from a mixture of sweat, wood dust and regret. “Why’d she have to marry that jerk?”

  Mom laid a hand against his cheek. “Instead of you, you mean?”

  “She should have been my wife.” An ache swelled in his chest to the point where taking a breath was painful. “After she graduated, I wanted to marry her.”

  “Honey, you were both so young.”

  “Really? How old were you and Dad when you got married?”

  “That was a different generation. Besides, you were in college and Agnes planned to attend school in Texas.”

  “When I told Dad I wanted to marry Red, he suggested I give her a little space to experience life before settling down. Then if I still wanted to marry her once she graduated, go for it. But I never got the chance. She ran to Bobby Levine…and look how that turned out.”

  “This is not your fault, Ian.”

  “She came to me after Bobby proposed and asked if I knew of any reason why she and Bobby shouldn’t get married.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “She needed to follow her heart. If Bobby was the man she wanted to marry, she needed to say yes. I told her no matter what she’d always be my best friend.”

  “What did you want her to say?”

  “I wanted her to say she was making a mistake, call off the wedding and choose me. Instead she wasted ten years with a man who didn’t deserve her.”

  “Now it’s your chance to show her the man she deserves to spend the rest of her life with.”

  “She sees me as her best friend.”

  “Best friends make the best spouses. Change her heart, Ian. Otherwise you’ll spend a lifetime regretting your decision.”

  Chapter Six

  How did she accumulate so much stuff? And how was she going to fit it all in Mama’s garage?

  Agnes stood in the middle of her living room with boxes at her feet and a stack of newspapers on the ottoman. She picked up a pottery bowl and wrapped it in several layers of the Shelby Lake Gazette before tucking it in the box on the coffee table. Yesterday’s news became today’s packing material.