by Ross, Mia
Lisa sent her a mock glare. “I’m not little, and I’m not waiting for anyone. I’m just not ready to give up everything for some guy.”
“That’s not how it works. Sure, you lose some of your independence, but you get a lot in return.”
“Like what?”
“Someone who loves you, no matter what,” Marianne explained with a gooey smile. “I never expected to fall in love again, but Ridge changed all that for me. If you give someone a chance, it will happen for you, too.”
“You’ve got a great life,” Lisa agreed, “but you’re stuck here in Harland. That’s not for me.”
“Trust me.” Standing, Marianne took Lisa’s cup to refill it from the teakettle on the stove. “Someday it will be.”
“Well, it won’t be with anybody from around here. These guys just aren’t what I’m looking for.”
“Which is what?”
Lisa took a few moments to frame her answer so she wouldn’t sound like some flighty teenager. “Strong, but sweet. Smart, funny. Adores me shamelessly. You know, the usual stuff.”
“You’ve dated a dozen guys like that,” Marianne pointed out, rejoining her at the table. “But none of them stuck. There must be something else.”
Lisa shrugged, and her gaze drifted through the archway that led into the warm, inviting living room. Somewhere in the distant future, she wanted to have family pictures scattered around the way Marianne did. Her eyes settled on the oversize portrait Marianne’s wedding photographer had given them as a gift. Dressed to the nines, Ridge and Marianne stood behind Kyle and Emily, smiling at the camera the way they had that entire day. They all looked so happy, like the beautifully matched set God had meant for them to be.
She’d have that, too, Lisa promised herself. As soon as she found the white knight she’d been searching for since she was old enough to appreciate the concept of falling in love.
The problem was, she’d have to go somewhere else to find him. Guys like that just didn’t exist in Harland, North Carolina.
* * *
“That’s it,” Ridge gritted through his teeth, straining to keep tension on the new drive belt. “Hold it right there.”
Seth did as he was asked, keeping the assembly steady while Ridge coaxed the rubber belt around several pulleys that were stamped with the year they were made. 1925. Seth couldn’t believe the tractor was still intact, much less a piece of equipment the Sawyers relied on to help them run their farm.
When he was finished, Ridge pulled himself up to the rusty seat and crossed his oil-stained fingers. “Here goes nothin’.”
When he set the throttle and turned the key, the engine groaned and belched out a huge puff of black smoke. Sighing, he fiddled with the choke and tried again. This time, the old motor caught and let out gradually lighter smoke. Ridge made some adjustments, and it settled into a throaty rumble.
“Touchdown!” Ridge yelled, hopping down like a kid who’d just gotten a go-kart for Christmas. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
“How they’ve kept this thing running all this time is beyond me,” Seth commented when they stepped back.
“I think the Sawyer boys all inherit some kind of mechanical gene.” The man wiped his hand and held it out. “Thanks for your help. I really needed an extra set of hands, and my son’s got math homework to do.”
“Not a problem.”
“We’ll let her run awhile, make sure she’s not gonna blow up or something.”
“Okay.” On the far side of the barn, Seth noticed a partially built biplane. “Is that yours?”
“Her name’s Ann Marie,” Ridge said proudly. “Marianne wouldn’t let me name a wreck after her, so I flipped it around. She’s a World War II Boeing Stearman. Another year, we’ll be flying.”
“Really?” Seth surveyed the pile of parts doubtfully. “I’ll take your word for it.”
Ridge laughed. “Come on over and check her out.”
Lisa’s brother-in-law was obviously proud of his plane, explaining how he’d refurbished one with his grandfather and used it for crop-dusting and aerial tours. Then he traded it to a collector who had connections that could get Marianne’s scheming ex-husband out of her life forever.
“That’s amazing,” Seth commented. “You gave up a lot for her.”
Ridge waved it off as if it was nothing. “Grandpa found this one and gave it to me as a wedding gift so Kyle and I could restore it together. I figured it was God’s way of telling me I did the right thing.”
Religion again. Seth chafed at the mention of faith, but he kept his objections to himself. Fortunately, he was saved from more conversation by the roar of tractors approaching the barn’s side door. They were moving pretty fast, and as they bounced over the rough ground, he could hear the drivers laughing.
They stopped just outside the door, and two very dusty Sawyers jumped down.
“No fair!” John hollered, pointing for emphasis. “You cut me off at the south end.”
“You said no rules, Goldilocks.”
Framed by the glare of the headlights, John folded his arms and gave his big brother a mock warning look. At least, Seth hoped it was a mock one.
“You cheated, Matt,” Ridge chimed in. “Just admit it.”
“Nobody asked you, flyboy.” Matt cocked his head, and a grin brightened his grimy face. “You got that dinosaur running? Nice work.”
The flip from intimidation to praise was quite a sight, and Seth braced himself when those dark blue eyes landed on him. “Nice to see you again, Seth.”
“Same here.” He hoped keeping it short would make him sound more confident. Because, honestly, this guy scared him. Seth had sisters of his own, and he understood the protective-brother routine. The thing was, these two farm boys could probably take him apart if they wanted to. If they quit arguing long enough, that was.
“Couldn’t have replaced that belt without him,” Ridge said. “Came out and jumped right in to help me.”
“That was cool of you.” John’s face broke into a blinding country-boy grin. “I’m going back to my place to get cleaned up. See you at supper.”
He and Matt left the barn together, still debating who’d won their race.
Ridge chuckled. “What a pair.”
“I met them in town earlier, and John seemed real friendly. Matt, I’m not so sure about.”
“Yeah, him you need to watch out for. We’re best friends, and he made it clear if I did anything out of line with Marianne, my life wouldn’t be worth living. He’s old-school, right down to his boots. You hurt his baby sister, he’ll take you somewhere only the buzzards will find you.”
Seth angled a look at the pilot, figuring he was just kidding. Judging by Ridge’s somber expression, he was deadly serious.
“Thanks,” Seth replied. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Chapter Six
“So, they didn’t eat you alive or anything,” Lisa teased when Seth came into the kitchen.
She’d kept busy chatting and helping Marianne with supper, but the whole time she’d been a little worried about Seth stranded out in the barn with all that testosterone. She hadn’t brought many men to the farm for supper, and she hated to consider the grilling he must have gotten tonight.
“Not quite.” Hanging his denim jacket on a free peg by the door, he gave her a wry grin. “They debated roasting or broiling me at one point, though.”
Completely stunned, she stopped filling corn muffin cups in midpour. “Did you just make a joke?”
His grin faded. “Is that a problem?”
“Not a bit.” She regretted making him feel self-conscious. “Those two have been scaring guys off for years is all. They’re pros.”
“Remember Henry Gruden?” Marianne asked while she pulled drinks from the fridge. “T
hey lived two miles away, and John chased him all the way home after he got fresh with you.”
Lisa wrinkled her nose in disdain. “He deserved worse.”
“What happened?”
While the question sounded innocent enough, Seth’s normally calm voice bristled with a note of warning. He was so protective, he made Tucker seem laid-back. Lisa couldn’t decide if she liked it or not, but she knew she’d never want that intense, icy stare aimed at her.
“Nothing,” she replied with a shrug. “It’s ancient history.”
“How ancient?”
“Twelve years. You know how teenage boys are.”
Seth gave her a long look, then apparently chose to let it go. Deciding it was best to move on, Lisa shoved a full muffin tin at him. “Put this in the oven, please.”
For the first time since she’d met him, he did something without hesitating. It was only sliding a pan into the oven, but still. He’d made some serious progress in the past few days, and despite her irritation, she was impressed.
Dusting cornmeal into the sink, she turned on the water to wash her hands. “So I heard a lot of banging upstairs this afternoon. How’s it going?”
“Fine. I replaced the floor in one of the back apartments today, and tomorrow I’ll do the other one.”
“On a Saturday?” she asked, frowning. “Why?”
Leaning back against the island, he folded his arms. “Repairing the church is a huge job, and that’s going to take a lot of time. Aunt Ruth’s got new tenants coming in after New Year’s, so those rooms have to be ready, too. Besides, the sooner I finish, the sooner I can move on.”
“To what?” Lisa asked without thinking. It wasn’t any of her business what was next on his agenda, and she felt her face heating with a very uncharacteristic blush. “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”
He shrugged. “Whatever. It’s not like I have a schedule or anything.”
Why didn’t he? she wondered. A grown man, he didn’t seem attached to anything—or anyone—except his parents and Ruthy. It just didn’t seem right to her.
“You could go home for a while,” she suggested, facing him while she dried her hands. “I’m sure your family misses you.”
“Not really. I call them every day.”
That was news to her. She’d spent a good amount of time with him and had never heard him make a phone call. “So, where is home?”
He hesitated, as if answering the question made him uncomfortable. “Fayetteville.”
This was the closest she’d gotten to coaxing any even remotely personal information from the enigmatic handyman. “That’s near Fort Bragg, isn’t it?”
Grimacing, he gave a single nod that looked as though it required incredible effort. As it had the first time she saw him, his jaw tightened as if he was fighting against something. Lisa prayed it wasn’t her. He had enough problems without her causing more.
“It’s a nice area,” she commented lightly, hoping to break the sudden tension between them.
“Yeah, it is.”
Apparently, that was all she’d be getting out of him for now. Trying not to take his skittish behavior personally, she took a large bowl from the cupboard and handed it to him. “How are you with a salad?”
Most of the sternness left his features, and he gave her a little grin. “Making or eating?”
She laughed, and the emotion that flashed in his eyes made her heart leap into her throat. He looked desperate, almost, as if he was clinging to her to keep from drowning in this sea of strangers he’d found himself in. It was unsettling, to say the least.
When the buzzer on the dryer went off, Marianne set the sweet tea on the table and artfully skirted the two of them. “I’ve got whites to fold. Can you keep basting for me, Lisa?”
Still watching Seth, Lisa nodded. “Sure.”
After the porch door closed behind her, Lisa asked, “Seth, is something wrong?”
His expression grew wary, and he half turned his head away from her. “Why?”
“You were just staring at me. Did I say something to upset you?”
“No.” After a quick sigh, he rubbed his neck and met her eyes. “It probably sounds stupid, but I really love the way you laugh.”
Flattered beyond measure, Lisa gave him a bright smile. “I’ve never heard anything less stupid in my life. Thank you.”
Standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. When she registered how smooth his skin felt, she gaped at him. “You shaved.”
“Yeah.” Running a hand over his face, he gave her a sheepish grin. “It was getting a little scruffy.”
She hadn’t taken a good look at him when they drove out together, just saw that he was wearing jeans and a jacket. Now she stepped back and gave him a thorough once-over. “Those are new jeans.”
“Yeah.”
She ticked the collar of his navy button-down, noticing how it deepened the color of his eyes. “And a shirt with a collar.”
He shrugged, his face getting a little pinker than it had been. That this strong, courageous man could still blush simply amazed her. She’d invented a harsh backstory for him, and it didn’t allow for humility. Somehow, despite what he’d been through, he’d kept hold of a boyishly soft heart. It was quite possibly the most endearing quality she’d ever seen in a man.
“Gus doesn’t sell clothes like these at the hardware store,” she pointed out.
“I went into town, and you were right.” Grinning, he added, “Everything I needed was right there on Main Street.”
If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought he was flirting with her. She was just about to test her theory when Ridge came busting through the kitchen door with John close on his heels.
Matt pounded down the stairs, hair still wet from a shower. Like three clueless bulls in a china shop, they collapsed into chairs at the table and started fanning through the newspaper. Kyle and Emily came traipsing in from the living room, each of them talking over the other to get their father’s attention. When Marianne reappeared with an armful of towels, in her mother-hen tone she ordered everyone to wash their hands before they ate. Ignoring their protests that their hands were perfectly clean, she turned away and carted the towels upstairs.
When Caty’s MG convertible pulled into the driveway, Tucker went berserk until Kyle opened the door so the Lab could go greet their new arrival.
“Is it always like this?” Seth asked over the din.
Nodding, Lisa had to laugh. “Welcome to the Sawyer Farm.”
* * *
Since the apartments above the diner were all empty except for his, Seth knew he wouldn’t be bothering anyone if he got an early start Saturday morning. By seven, he’d finished laying the rest of the floorboards he’d been working on yesterday. The stain took him about an hour, and after that he couldn’t do anything more until it dried.
Cutting planks for the other floor would create a lot of dust, so they’d have to wait. That meant he was free to go over to the church and get organized before folks started showing up. He buckled on his tool belt and went downstairs to grab something to eat before heading out.
With each step down, the noise from the dining room got louder and louder. It was so bad, he could barely hear the woman on the radio singing about rockin’ around the Christmas tree. When he stopped in the kitchen, over the swinging doors he saw the diner jam-packed with the people he’d be seeing later on.
Good-natured arguments and laughter came from every table. Several guys dressed head to toe in hunter’s camouflage were even singing along with the music in very questionable voices. A few days ago, the thought of walking into all that chaos would have sent Seth running back upstairs.
Not today, though, he realized with a measure of pride. Now he knew some of his aunt’s customers, and he spotted Pastor Char
les sitting with three women. One of them was holding his hand loosely in a loving gesture Seth recognized from his own parents. Smiling, he strolled over to their table.
“Good morning,” he said. “You’re looking even better than yesterday, sir.”
“Fit as ever,” the preacher assured him. Motioning to the woman beside him, he added, “This is my wife, Penny.”
Seth offered his hand. “Seth Hansen. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
To his surprise, she stood to embrace him. Beaming up at him as if he were some kind of celebrity she’d been dying to meet, she said, “I’m so glad you came over, Seth. I’ve been wanting to thank you for rescuing Charlie.”
She was so sincere, so obviously grateful, Seth forced himself not to blow off the praise. “I’m just glad I could help.”
“God bless you.”
The phrase made him want to squirm, and he covered his discomfort by turning to her husband. “Is Charles your first name or your last name?”
“Both,” he replied with a chuckle. “My parents had an odd sense of humor.”
“Won’t you join us?” one of the other women asked. “I’m sure we can find a chair somewhere.”
Seth really wasn’t keen on the idea, since it would require him to come up with his share of polite conversation. Not his strong point. Still, he thought as he glanced around, if Lisa was here...
“She’s off today,” Penny told him.
Busted. When he looked at her, she gave him a knowing smile that made him laugh. “You’ve raised a son, I’m guessing.”
“Four of them. You all think you’re so good at hiding what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong.”
He grinned down at the woman who seemed like the perfect match to her husband. “You sound like my mom.”
“Really? From the way you say it, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It is. Thanks for the invitation, but I’d best get over to the site before everyone finishes breakfast. The cleanup’s almost done, and I’d like to start framing that wall on Monday.”
“We’ll be over later with coffee,” one of the pastor’s companions said.