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Falling for the Hometown Hero

Page 7

by Mindy Obenhaus


  “Do you have a heater in this thing?” He pointed to her camper.

  Savoring another bite, she shook her head.

  “Is that your only coat?”

  She eyed her leather jacket. “Mmm-hmm.”

  Frowning, he said, “I’ll be right back.” He walked past her, gravel crunching beneath every booted step, and continued on to his Jeep, retrieved something from the backseat and returned. “It might be a little big, but it’s warm.” He handed her an insulated jacket, similar to the one he wore, only tan.

  Grace was taken aback by the gesture. “Oh, I don’t—”

  “Yes, you do. Can. However, you were planning to object.”

  This was the Kaleb she’d experienced all week. The one who put others above himself. Suddenly she wondered if that wasn’t what he was doing with his buddies who died. They were his heroes. And he’d let them down.

  Which made the hero label people affixed to him feel as scratchy as woolen undergarments.

  “Thank you.” She spread the coat he gave her over her legs, humbled to realize that Kaleb hadn’t just picked up coffee and breakfast. He’d actually put some thought into his actions.

  It had been a long time since someone had anticipated her needs. Certainly no one on the ship. Even Aaron had grown accustomed to letting her take care of herself.

  Hands perched low on his hips, Kaleb moved to the front of the trailer and studied her roof. Then he picked up the tarp and, with one strategic toss, sent it sailing. A few seconds later, the entire tarp covered her camper.

  “You sure made that look easy.” She stuffed the last bite of roll in her mouth and wiped her hands before hurrying to secure each corner with a stake.

  “Height had its advantages.”

  He definitely had plenty of advantage, then.

  “Everything secure?” He watched her as she finished hammering in the last stake.

  “Yep.” She approached him, hammer in hand, her stomach filled with that peculiar fluttering again. “Thank you for breakfast.”

  “My pleasure.” He stared down at her, making her feel more petite than tall.

  “I really should get ready for work.”

  “I’m sure your boss will understand if you’re late.”

  Yes! She still had a job.

  “Perhaps. But I’m not one to push the envelope.”

  He quirked a brow. “I don’t know about that.”

  Her gaze lowered. “Yeah...”

  Laying a finger to her chin, he tilted her head to look at him. “Thank you for holding me accountable.”

  Her mouth went dry. “I—uh...”

  The corners of his mouth lifted. “What are you planning to work on today?”

  “Well, I...” The website, you idiot. “The website. Now that the brochures are off to the printer, I’m hoping to finish the website.”

  “I’m still in awe of your talents, Grace.” He dropped his hand and she found herself missing his touch. “Seems wherever I’m lacking, you know just how to pick up the slack.” He turned and waved as he started for his Jeep. “See you at the office.”

  Grace watched him walk away, feeling a little disconcerted. For someone who wasn’t comfortable with the hero tag, Kaleb had waltzed in here and saved her entire morning. And while looking after one’s creature comforts might not seem very superheroesque, it meant everything to her. Not to mention, spoke volumes about the man behind it.

  She started for her tent. Fortunately for her, she wasn’t looking for a hero.

  * * *

  Kaleb stared at the computer screen, unable to contain the wide grin that spread across his face. A new tagline, new brochures and, now, a new website. Was there anything Grace couldn’t do? In only a few days, she’d single-handedly changed the face of Mountain View Tours.

  So, as the sun rose on a new week, it seemed only fitting they start revamping the front office, too. He’d picked up the paint from the hardware store this morning and his mom and sister, along with Grace’s mother, were scheduled to be there at ten.

  Excitement welled inside him. He could hardly wait for Memorial weekend and the grand opening of the new Mountain View Tours.

  “Good morning.” Grace breezed into the room, holding a can of Diet Dr Pepper, wearing torn, faded jeans, flip-flops and her leather jacket. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail and covered with a well-worn navy ball cap. Not her usual work attire, but then, he didn’t make a habit of wearing holey cargos and a T-shirt left over from basic training either.

  “Morning.” He sipped his coffee. “And how was your Mother’s Day?”

  “It was quite nice actually.” She paused at the counter. “After church, Roger took Mama and me out to dinner in Montrose and then we all went to the hot springs pool.”

  “That’s weird. I saw Donna and Roger at church. How’d I miss you?”

  “I...” Her gaze lowered momentarily before bouncing back to his. “Was taking advantage of my one and only day to sleep in.”

  Why did he get the feeling that Grace wasn’t giving him the whole truth?

  “What did you do yesterday?” Obviously eager to shift the conversation.

  “Dad, Scott and I fixed dinner while Mom and Sami lost themselves in far too much HGTV.”

  “Where was Jack?”

  “With us guys, of course.”

  “Ah, I see you got the paint.” She eyed the three cans stacked against the wall.

  “Yep. We’re all set.” He turned back to the computer. “Come here a minute. I need your opinion on something.”

  “Sure.” She took a sip of her soda before joining him behind the counter. “What’s up?”

  “This.” He pointed to the screen.

  Setting her drink on the counter, she looked from the image back to him. “What am I looking at?”

  “Carpet tiles.” He reached for the mouse. “Let me show you a better picture.” He clicked on the image of a carpeted room.

  She leaned in for a closer look. “Those are carpet tiles?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wow. They look really nice.” She straightened. “Are they for your house?”

  “No. They’re for the office.” He pointed to the unadorned floor.

  “Really?” Her eyes were as big as her smile. “You mean no more cold concrete?”

  “That’s right.”

  She perched a hand on her hip. “All right, who are you and what have you done with Kaleb?”

  “Very funny.” He shifted his attention back to the computer screen, hoping she couldn’t see the heat he felt creeping up his neck. “Let’s just say I’m starting to see the wisdom in what you and Sami have been saying.”

  “What was that?” She leaned closer. “I didn’t quite hear you.” Grace was enjoying this way too much.

  “You were right, okay. Are you happy now?”

  Her satisfied grin said it all. “Ecstatic.”

  “I have to say—” he leaned against the low bookcase behind the desk, crossing his arms over his chest “—I’m pretty stoked about this makeover. Not to mention the grand opening.”

  “Me, too.” She shrugged out of her jacket, revealing a paint-splattered United States Navy T-shirt. “I’m glad I get to be part of it.”

  Moving to the opposite corner, she tossed her jacket onto a limb of the coat tree. “Have you given any thought to this counter?” Smoothing a hand along the finished wood top, she made her way around to the other side. “We can work with the top, maybe sand and restain it, but this particleboard on the front doesn’t hold much potential.”

  “I thought you were planning to keep any more suggestions to yourself?” He followed her, liking the way she took such an interest in Mountain View Tours. As though it were important to her.


  She lifted a shoulder. “I changed my mind.” Still pondering the face of the reception desk, she said, “What if we covered it with some beadboard paneling, then painted it the same red as the trim.”

  “Hmm...” He rubbed his chin, trying to visualize the red.

  The door opened then and a bearded man entered, carrying what appeared to be a file folder.

  “Welcome to Mountain View Tours.” Kaleb offered his hand.

  The man took it. “Are you the owner?”

  “Yes, sir. Kaleb Palmer.”

  “I’m Barry Swanson with the Bureau of Land Management.” Since when did government agencies make personal visits?

  Kaleb studied the man, who was slightly shorter than himself and wore wire-rimmed glasses. “What can I do for you, Mr. Swanson?”

  “Barry, please.” Still holding the folder, he crossed his hands in front of him. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Jeep tour companies need permits from the BLM in order to operate on land owned by the forest service.”

  “Yes, I am aware of that.”

  “How long have you owned Mountain View Tours, Mr. Palmer?”

  “Kaleb. Since the end of February.” He assumed his at-ease stance, feet apart, hands clasped behind his back.

  Barry opened the file folder. “I’m sorry, Kaleb, but we have no record of your request for permits.”

  “Mr. Chapman, the previous owner, said he had taken care of them. That even though the business had changed owners, the permits would carry over.”

  Barry shook his head. “I’m afraid Mr. Chapman was mistaken. Not only did we not receive his paperwork, permits are not grandfathered in based on a change of ownership.”

  Kaleb’s throat constricted. “I see. When is the paperwork due?”

  Barry closed the file. “They were due in March.”

  Kaleb felt as if the air had been sucked out his lungs. All of his plans. The grand opening. He could almost hear the door slamming on his dreams.

  Why hadn’t he followed up on those permits and made sure they were taken care of? Instead, he was focused on trucks and Jeeps.

  Panic wormed its way through his being. A feeling he knew well and despised.

  “Mr. Swanson, I’m Grace McAllen, Mr. Palmer’s office manager.” She shook his hand. “I’m curious. Suppose Kaleb hadn’t purchased the business until April or even this month. Would he still have been allowed to apply for the permits?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The field officer tapped the file against his leg. “As I said, the permits do not carry over, so a new one would have to be issued, and then every subsequent year, the paperwork would be due in March.”

  Kaleb wasn’t sure what Grace was up to, but she seemed to have a better mind for business than he did. So when she met his gaze, he issued a quick nod, urging her to continue.

  Her attention returned to Mr. Swanson. “Since Kaleb was led to believe that the permits had not only been granted, but grandfathered in, is it possible you could extend him a little grace?”

  The field officer appeared to mull over her request. He studied Kaleb first, then the antiquated office. “Back when Dale Hannon owned this place, it ranked among the best tour companies in town.”

  Clearing his throat, Kaleb straightened, hands at his sides as though he were still in the army. “Yes, sir. And I intend to do everything in my power to show guests we’re worthy of that distinction once again.”

  Lips pursed until his mouth disappeared behind his brownish-red beard, Barry nodded, still studying the space. Did he think it was a hopeless cause or was he recalling Mountain View Tours’ former glory?

  Finally, just when Kaleb thought he couldn’t take it anymore, Barry opened the folder, pulled out a small stack of papers and handed them to Kaleb.

  “You’ll need to fill these out and provide all of the information listed there on the first page. Paperwork and fees will be due ASAP.”

  Relief washed over Kaleb, like air-conditioning on a steamy day.

  “This is Monday...” said Grace. “What if we got them to you by, say, next Monday?”

  Good plan. That would give them the weekend to work on things.

  The man looked at Kaleb. “Do you have your general liability insurance?”

  Kaleb nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Then let’s shoot for Friday. Preferably by noon.”

  “This Friday?” For the first time, the despair Kaleb felt sparked in Grace’s hazel eyes.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  What had they got themselves into? Neither he nor Grace knew anything about the paperwork Barry tasked them to do. And if there was one thing Kaleb knew about government agencies, it was that their paperwork was never easy.

  He examined the documents in his hand, noting what all they required. “Any recommendations on how I come up with these estimates of land use?”

  “Most people go back to their drivers’ logs from previous years and base it off those numbers. Fees are based on the numbers you give. I know this is your first season, but you’ll need to be as accurate as possible.”

  Accurate? How could they expect him to be accurate when he’d never done this before? And he didn’t have a clue as to where the drivers’ logs were, if there were even any here. Still...

  “I understand.” He shook the man’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”

  As Mr. Swanson departed, Kaleb’s gaze remained fixed on Grace. Not only had she gone to bat for him, as far as he was concerned, she’d hit a grand slam.

  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Crossed her arms over her chest, looking everywhere but at him. “Okay, I know—I overstepped my boundaries and stuck my nose somewhere it didn’t belong.”

  “You saved us, Grace.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I was afraid he might shut us down on the spot. But you stepped up to the plate and saved Mountain View Tours. Thank you.”

  “You’ve worked hard, Kaleb. You don’t deserve to have curveballs like that thrown at you.” She cleared her throat. “So what do we have to do to get these permits?” She pointed to the papers.

  He set them on top of the counter. “Let’s see. Aside from a usage estimate, an operating plan, map of the areas we intend to access, copy of my current brochure...”

  “Maps and brochures are easy enough. But the rest is going to take a while.”

  “No kidding. And we’ve only got four days.” He drew in a frustrated breath. “I sure hope we can find those drivers’ logs. In the meantime, it looks like we’ll have to postpone the painting.”

  “Postpone? Are you crazy?”

  No, but she might have a screw loose. “Priorities, Grace. We have to start looking for the logs right away.”

  “We will. But you’ve got three people coming to paint. Let them paint while we work on the estimates. Because we will meet that deadline.”

  Chapter Seven

  Grace ached for Kaleb. Why hadn’t the forest service come to him sooner? Why did they wait until he was open for business?

  It was what it was, though, and Grace was determined to see to it Kaleb met that deadline. Even if she wasn’t quite sure how.

  For two full days, they had been going through the previous owner’s files, yet they’d located only about half of the drivers’ logs. They’d searched the office and the shop. Drawers, cupboards, boxes. Kaleb had even gone so far as to call the former owner, who was confident all of the logs had been put into boxes and stowed in the shop.

  Yet it was as if the other half had just disappeared. And from what Kaleb had told her about his former boss, they very well could have.

  Still, they had to keep trying.

  Kaleb was doing his best to remain positive, but failing miserably. The dark circles under his eyes told her he hadn’t slept, and she had a feeling
eating wasn’t at the top of his priority list either. His frustration was almost palpable. And mounting with every hour that passed.

  Paint fumes still hung in the air as Grace glanced from the computer to the door that separated the office from the garage. She imagined Kaleb pacing through the shop, raking a hand through his hair as he scoured for more boxes, despite having gone through the place multiple times.

  She jumped when Kaleb burst through the door and moved into the freshly painted office. His booted feet thudded against the concrete floor, the carpet tiles she was so looking forward to having been put on hold.

  “I found another box. In the rafters, no less.” Hoisting it onto the counter, he blew the dust off the top.

  She hoped this one contained what they needed.

  “Let’s see what we’ve got.” Behind the counter, Grace coughed, fanned the airborne particles with her hand and lifted the flaps. She pulled out a stack of papers and leafed through them.

  Credit-card receipts from four years ago, followed by a wad of old rental agreements.

  Peering inside the box, Kaleb grabbed another stack and sifted through them. “There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to any of this.” Bills marked with payment dates and check numbers, a to-go menu from some restaurant and gas receipts. “Ross was a worse businessman than I thought.” He tossed the pile aside, the lines on his face growing more pronounced.

  “But you’re not.” She rummaged through what was left inside the cardboard container. “You’re conscientious and, unlike him, you care about your customers.” She stopped her search, her spirits dipping another notch as she looked at Kaleb.

  “No logs?”

  She shook her head. “Sorry.”

  He shoved the box aside and started toward the shop. “I’m going to check the rafters again. See if I missed anything.”

  Moving around the counter, she stepped in front of him. “I think our time would be better spent if we stopped looking and started actually working on the estimates.”

 

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