by Ross, Mia
“Sorry. I guess I was a little distracted.”
“Seth’s all by himself over there,” Marianne said with a smile. “Why don’t you go see if he needs a hand?”
“That’s not what’s distracting me.”
As if on cue, her brothers broke up laughing, and she caught Ridge contorting a grin into something slightly less insulting.
“It’s not,” she insisted more forcefully. “I was thinking about where to go during my trip.”
“Sure you were,” John taunted with one of his maddening grins. “Isn’t all that set in stone by the tour company?”
Huffing, she glared up at him. “I have time where I can do things on my own. I’m trying to decide what to see.”
“Whatever.” Still grinning like a moron, he fell in line behind Matt and Caty. Over his shoulder, he made a kissy face at Lisa.
“Oh, grow up,” she shot back, mimicking the gesture. “You look like a trout.”
The three guys laughed at her on their way out, and she rolled her eyes.
“Don’t mind them, honey,” a very pregnant Caty advised. “They’ve been working like crazy all week, and they need some entertainment.”
Lisa gave a very unladylike snort. “Well, if they start up again at lunch, I’m leaving.”
“Oh, don’t tell them that,” Marianne cautioned while she helped Emily with the top button on her pink coat. “They’ll never stop.”
“Boys are so stupid,” Emily chimed in, and the girls all laughed as they filed down the makeshift aisle.
When they were outside, Lisa looked over at the church and saw Seth sprawled on the front steps, drinking a bottle of water. As he leaned forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and dangled the water bottle between them as he stared at the ground.
“He looks exhausted.”
The others stared at her, and Lisa realized she’d spoken out loud. It was too late to wiggle her way out of this one, so she didn’t even try. “I think I’ll go see if I can get him to take a break.”
“Invite him to lunch,” Marianne suggested as Ridge opened the passenger door of their minivan for her. “We’ve got plenty of ham to go around.”
“Thanks,” Lisa replied. “I will.”
Careful to avoid cars pulling away from the curb, she crossed the street and walked toward where Seth was sitting. Before she was even halfway there, he was on his feet and brushing himself off. She smiled as she reached the steps. “Good morning.”
“Same to you,” he responded with a shy smile. “How was your service?”
“A little strange, but nice. It was nice of you to help Ruthy set everything up.”
Wiping his hands on the bandanna he always carried in his back pocket, he shrugged as if it was nothing. “Once everyone clears out, I’ll go reset for lunch.”
“I’ll help you,” she offered without thinking. When he gave her a funny look, she explained, “It’ll go faster that way.”
“Don’t you have a family meal to get to?”
“They can wait. My brothers just torture me the whole time, anyway.”
“Yeah,” he said with a sheepish grin. “My sisters used to do the same thing to me.”
“They don’t live near your parents anymore?”
“No, they’re around. They just don’t torture me anymore.”
“I’m confused,” Lisa confessed. “Why the change?”
Sighing, he folded his handkerchief into a neat square and slid it back into his jeans. “Everything changed.”
Translation: after he came home in pieces, his sisters didn’t want to make things worse by teasing him. They couldn’t possibly have known that by being extra nice, they’d actually made him feel worse.
Trying to shift the conversation to something positive, she asked, “Are they all older than you?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s the worst, right?” When he glanced up with some interest, she rattled on. “I mean, everyone thinks you’ve got it made, being the youngest. Grown-ups spoil you, and older brothers and sisters look out for you. Then later on, they can’t get used to the fact that you’re all grown-up, and they still treat you like a baby.”
She was keenly aware she sounded like a babbling idiot, but the misery had left Seth’s eyes, and he grinned. “That’s how it is, all right.”
“And Ruthy’s the worst,” she added, shaking her head with a smile. “She mothers everyone she meets, which is really sweet, and I love her for it. But sometimes she forgets we’re not ten anymore.”
Seth laughed, and Lisa applauded herself for dragging him out of the funk she’d inadvertently created. It had been an innocent question, but she still felt bad for bringing up sad memories.
“Speaking of Aunt Ruth, I should get back there. Sure you want to help?”
“Mais oui,” she replied, linking her arm through his. “Allons-y.”
Laughing again, he nodded his approval as they walked through the square. “Très bien, mademoiselle.”
“Merci beaucoup.”
By the time they got to the diner, Lisa had exhausted her very limited French vocabulary. But Seth was smiling, and she considered that a major success.
Chapter Eight
Monday morning, Seth arrived at the church work site around seven. There were a few things to do before they could start framing, and he figured they’d go quicker if he did them himself. After the grumbling he’d overheard, he expected some push-back from at least a couple of the volunteers. While he’d never shrunk from a fight, it wasn’t his style to seek one out, either.
As if destroying the century-old tree wasn’t bad enough, the storm had thoroughly soaked the raised altar area. It was basically a simple stage, but he went over it carefully, stomping on the steps and platform to test the strength of the remaining wood. Still damp in spots, it gave in several places, and the splintering sounds he heard didn’t bode well for the supports underneath. He pulled a couple of face boards away and discovered that the structure, solid as it may have been in 1860, was far from sturdy now.
The best option was to pull it all out and rebuild it. No big deal, he thought, until he turned his attention to the damaged oak pews. The lumber had come from the forests around Harland, Gus had told him. Replacing the wood was no problem, but Seth feared matching the layers of different stains would be impossible. He could never mix the right color of brown in a million years. Michelangelo, maybe. Seth, not a chance.
Lisa.
Her name popped into his head with a suddenness that startled him. Crazy or not, he recognized that his subconscious had hit on the perfect solution to his aesthetic problem. With her artist’s eye for color, he had no doubt Lisa could come up with the stain he needed to blend his newly built pieces in with the old ones.
Pleased with the idea, he pulled out his phone and added a note to ask her about it. Then he tucked the phone away and grabbed a crowbar to start pulling the stage apart.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Seth recognized one of the complaining voices he’d heard the other day and looked up to find a fiftyish man in jeans and a flannel shirt glaring down at him. Arms folded, he looked ready to yank the tool from Seth’s hands and beat him with it.
Taking a quiet breath to settle his nerves, Seth stood and met the man’s anger head-on. “This wood is too saturated to be safe. It needs to be replaced.”
“Who told you that?”
“I did.” Hoping he looked friendly, Seth offered his hand. “Seth Hansen.”
“I know who you are,” the man shot back, eyes narrowed. “I just don’t know why you think you can start ripping our church apart without asking first.”
His claim to the church explained some of his bitterness toward Seth. It was understandable that a member of the clo
se-knit congregation would feel that someone who belonged there should be the one in charge.
“I’m not,” Seth explained. “Pastor Charles asked me to look at the interior structure and replace anything the storm damaged. I’m just following orders, sir.”
Mentioning the pastor seemed to reassure the guy a little. He was still frowning, but he nodded. “That’s all right, I guess.”
Since the ice wasn’t quite as slick as it had been, Seth took a shot. “I didn’t catch your name, sir.”
“I didn’t throw it at you.” The man backed away a few steps, all the while scowling at Seth. “I’ve worshipped in this church my whole life, never missed a single Sunday. I think it’s wrong to trust it to some yahoo who can’t spend a little time in God’s house on the Sabbath.”
This guy was a complete jerk who knew absolutely nothing about Seth, so he almost let the condemning barb pass. But somewhere inside him, an old feeling rustled to life, standing up straight and proud.
“Your whole life, huh?” he challenged. “Too bad it doesn’t show.”
His mouth dropping open, his adversary stared at Seth as if he had three heads. “You’d best watch your step, junior. You don’t want to make an enemy out of me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Just for good measure, he added, “Sir.”
Turning on the heel of his steel-toed work boot, the grumbler stalked back the way he’d come. Unfortunately, Seth had known men like him, so stiff and cold they were like walking corpses. Sometimes he could get through to them, discover they had something in common so they could talk a little. Sometimes not. But he could work with anybody, and he had a feeling that over the next couple of weeks, that skill was going to come in very handy.
From the gaping hole in the wall, he heard muted laughter and looked over to find Gus grinning in at him.
“Nice shot, son.”
“Thanks.” Seth shook his head. “This is gonna be all over town by noon. I should’ve just let it go.”
“Jim Canfield is a class-A mule when he gets a mind to be,” Gus told him.
“I think I saw his truck out front. Canfield Roofing, right?”
“That’s him. Great with plywood and shingles, lousy with people. I heard the whole thing, and you gave him exactly what he deserved.”
Strolling over, Seth rested a hand near the opening. “Spying on me?”
Gus replied with an unapologetic grin. “You’re doing good here, Seth. Just keep on the way you’re going, and you’ll be fine.”
Seth got the feeling Gus was referring to more than his run-in with their prickly roofer. For some reason, the old Marine’s approval made him feel prouder than he had in a long time. “I’ll do that, sir.”
“And quit calling me ‘sir.’ You’re making me feel about a hundred years old.”
That reminded him of Aunt Ruth griping when people called her “ma’am,” and Seth laughed. “Got it.”
“I’ve got a big load of clapboard siding out there. Gimme a hand, would you?”
“Sure.”
After clapping Seth on the shoulder, Gus led him out to a beautifully restored Model-T delivery truck with Harland Hardware painted on the side. A couple of volunteers introduced themselves to Seth and joined in to help. Before long, the truck was empty and Seth knew two more people than he did yesterday.
For most folks, shaking two new hands would have been no big deal. For Seth, it represented solid progress. Maybe, finally, he was wrestling his life back onto the right track.
* * *
“Whew!” Lisa dropped onto a stool at the counter, giving Ruthy what she knew was a pitiful look. “What is with people today? It hasn’t stopped since seven.”
“Everyone’s in town doing their Christmas shopping,” Ruthy answered while she topped off a pitcher with the delicious homemade maple syrup a local farm had started selling to the diner. “It’s great for business.”
“But tough on my feet,” Lisa complained.
“The church project is keeping us busier than usual, with people coming in here to eat after their shifts. But if we’re going to finish by Christmas Eve, we need all the hands we can get.”
“Oh, it’ll be done,” Lisa assured her while she pulled her tips out of her apron pocket. “Seth promised me.”
Preoccupied with sorting out the ones so she could cash them in for larger bills, it took her a minute to notice that Ruthy was uncharacteristically quiet. When she glanced up, she found her boss studying her with a slight smile.
At first Lisa was confused, then it dawned on her that she’d basically blurted out that Seth was hurrying the project along as a personal favor to her. Realizing she’d given Ruthy hope for them getting together, Lisa groaned. “Oh, no. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Which way is that?”
“Don’t try that clueless act on me.” She tapped her chest. “I invented it. You’ve got that ‘cat in cream, my plan is working perfectly’ look.”
“I don’t know where you and Seth get the idea I’m trying to throw you together.” Holding up her hands, she glanced around the humming dining room. “Like I don’t have enough to do.”
“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe it was the mistletoe stunt.”
She waved that away as if it was an annoying gnat. “Tradition, that’s all. I offered to take another picture, but you told me not to.”
“I just wanted the two of you to quit arguing.” Ruthy tilted her head with a dubious look, and Lisa laughed. “Besides, it was a nice picture.”
“I’ve had at least a hundred compliments on it while it’s been hanging by the door. Seeing two gorgeous kids under the mistletoe makes people smile.”
Now that she was grown-up, being called a “kid” bugged Lisa to no end. Because she adored this woman, she pushed down her annoyance and ignored the comment. “You mean it makes them think they can find someone to stand under the mistletoe with, too.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” Ruthy planted her hands on her hips with a stern expression. “Lonely folks searching for someone to share their lives with could do with a little hope, don’t you think?”
Recognizing that she’d struck a very personal nerve, Lisa backpedaled like crazy. “I guess I didn’t think of it that way. I’m sorry.”
She was sorry about more than her careless attitude, but Lisa wasn’t sure how to say so without insulting the woman who’d done so much to fill the void left by her own mother. Ruth Benton, with her eight sons and twenty-four-and-a-half grandchildren, lived her life surrounded by people who adored her.
But every night, she went home to her big, elegant Victorian house alone. Lisa’s studio wasn’t anywhere near as grand, but her life was very similar. When she wasn’t at the farm with her rowdy, loving family, her only consistent company was a cat who considered it her mission in life to make it into the Guinness Book of World Records for “Most Sleeping Done By Cat.”
There was more out there for her, Lisa knew, but it didn’t exist in Harland. She’d lived there her entire life and hadn’t found it yet. Maybe it was in Europe. Or Australia, she mused for the first time. Last night on the Travel Channel, she’d watched a two-hour tour of the fascinating country. From cosmopolitan Sydney to the rugged outback, the diversity had mesmerized her to the point that she forgot to eat supper.
How much would an Aussie tour cost? she wondered. Maybe next winter, when it was summer in that part of the world, she’d go there and see it all for herself.
“Lisa.”
Ruthy’s sharp tone jerked her back to reality. “Yes?”
“You were a million miles away just now,” she said more gently. “Where do you go when you do that?”
Feeling more than a little foolish, Lisa sighed. “Australia. I wonder how long it takes to get there.”
“Twenty
hours.” Settling onto the stool beside her, Seth laid a piece of wood on the counter and grimaced. “Besides that, they’re fourteen hours ahead of us time-wise, so it’s already tomorrow when you land. Takes a few days to get adjusted.”
“You’ve been to Australia?” She realized she must sound like an idiot, but she couldn’t get her head around the idea. It was tough for her to tamp down the spark of jealousy that flared up, but she knew it was wrong to feel that way so she did her best. “Is there any place I want to go you haven’t been to already?”
Sipping the coffee his aunt had put in front of him, he shrugged. “I’ve never been to Iceland.”
“Brrr.” Lisa shivered. “Like anyone would even want to go there.”
“Actually, it’s supposed to be a great spot. When the Vikings discovered it, they gave it that name to keep people away.” He grinned. “Greenland’s weather is a lot worse, and they called it the opposite on purpose.”
“Clever Vikings,” Lisa murmured.
“Yeah. Speaking of clever,” he added, picking up the wood, “I need your help with something.”
Her heart did one of its crazy little flips, and she waited a moment before saying anything. “I’m not good with saws and stuff.”
Chuckling, he shook his head. “What I need is this color.” He held up the worn plank for her to see. “When I make the new risers and pews, I’ll stain them and spruce up the old ones. But first, the new wood needs to be this color.”
“Otherwise, the new pieces will be lighter, even if you use the same stain.”
“Bingo. So, I need an artist.”
“And you thought of me?”
When he nodded, she saw he was completely serious. No one had ever called her an artist, even in teasing. Seth was treating her like a pro, asking for help from someone he considered an expert. It was flattering and more than a little intimidating.
Picking out accessories for the apartments had been easy and fun. Working on permanent fixtures for the church she loved would be much more demanding, not to mention stressful. If she messed up, everyone would know. Then again, if she nailed it, everyone would know that, too. They’d finally be forced to admit that ditzy, dreamy Lisa had something more to offer than a menu and a quick smile. This was her chance, she realized. And Seth was giving it to her.