“You mean—” her gaze met his “—when you’re not here.”
He’d made it clear from the beginning he only wanted temporary work. The project would carry on fine without him. She would carry on fine without him. So why was he suddenly feeling so damn guilty? “Look, Jessica, you’ll be able to—”
“Oh, hello there. Am I interrupting?”
Dylan turned sharply. It was Myrna. Dressed in a white jumpsuit, she stood in the doorway, a bright red smile plastered on her face. Managing to contain the swear word on the tip of his tongue, Dylan moved away from Jessica.
The click of Myrna’s red high heels echoed as she moved across the hardwood floor toward them. “Jessica, dear, where have you been keeping yourself?”
As far away from you as possible, Jessica thought as she stood and faced her stepmother. “I’ve been busy here.”
“You’re too young to be working so hard,” Myrna said, then looked at Dylan. “Hello, Mr. Grant.”
He nodded. “Mrs. Stone.”
“Daddy and I noticed you have some men working on the church. I must admit, dear, we are surprised.”
“And why is that?”
“It must be very costly replacing a building so badly damaged. But then, most of this town is quite deteriorated.”
Here it comes, Jessica thought. She wasn’t in the mood for this. Not now.
Without so much as batting one heavily mascaraed eyelash, Myrna started in. “Jessica—” she waved a hand impatiently “—it’s going to cost a fortune to rebuild this town. It should have been leveled fifty years ago. When are you going to wake up from this fantasy world of yours and face reality?”
Jessica sighed. “And I suppose you think that building stables out here and breeding racehorses is reality?”
Myrna lifted her chin. “It’s a sound investment. Daddy thinks so, too.”
“You hate horses, Myrna. How are you going to breed and train them?”
“I’ll hire people to do that, of course. Stone Creek Stables, I’m going to call it. We’ll be famous.”
Jessica heard Dylan’s grunt of laughter, but ignored it. “I’ll not selling Makeshift, Myrna. Not one acre, not one inch. You’ll have to find something else to be famous for somewhere else.”
“Jessica, living in these dilapidated old buildings is dangerous. How can you even sleep?”
Sleep was definitely becoming a problem, Jessica thought, but it had nothing to do with old buildings and everything to do with Dylan.
“Myrna, are you pestering Jessica again?”
Myrna frowned as her father entered the kitchen. “I’m not pestering anyone. Jessica’s just too stubborn, that’s all.”
“Stone determination,” Carlton said with admiration. “Your late husband taught his children well. Too bad that man never went into business with me. We would have made a fortune. Good afternoon, Jessica. Mr. Grant.”
Dylan nodded to the other man. “Dylan, please.”
Jessica watched as the two men shook hands. She noticed that Carlton wasn’t as pale as he’d been at the party for Jared, and he moved less stiffly today. He was dressed casually, in gray slacks and a polo shirt, and looked remarkably younger. She hoped that meant there’d been an improvement in his condition.
“You’ve done a fine job here, young man,” Carlton said to Dylan. “I never would have thought that church was salvageable.”
“It looked worse than it was,” Dylan said. “But I give all the credit to my crew. They’re hardworking dependable men.”
Carlton shook his head. “Don’t be modest, my boy. It’s good leadership that makes a project succeed. Good leadership and careful planning. I could use a man like you in one of my companies.”
Dylan glanced up at the sound of shouting from outside. Frowning, he went through the lobby and into the street. Jessica followed, trailed by Myrna and Carlton. The crew hurried up the street from the church. Max, the supervising carpenter, led the pack.
“Sorry, boss,” Max said, stopping in front of Dylan. His voice shook. “But you’re going to have to find a new crew.”
“A new crew!” Dylan looked at each man. Their faces were white, their eyes wide. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s one thing to hear stories. I mean, who believes it?” Sweat dripped from Max’s forehead. “But when it’s right in your face, Lordy, it’s something different.”
“Max, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Ghosts, boss. That’s what we’re talking about. In the church. We’re outta here.”
Six
“I can’t believe Lucas or Meggie would object to the rebuilding.” Jessica paced the length of the kitchen. After a frenzied afternoon, everyone else, including Myrna and Carlton, had finally left. “Especially the church.”
Dylan leaned against the counter, arms folded, face set tight. “According to Max, they not only objected, they picked up a hammer and threw it right at him.”
Jessica dragged her hands through her hair as she continued to pace. “It can’t be. Meggie and Lucas would never hurt anyone—” she hesitated “—unless there was a reason of course.”
Dylan frowned. “The men aren’t convinced.”
Jessica groaned. “So he actually saw Meggie? Really saw her?”
“He believes he saw something. And so did the other men who were in the church. They also heard voices, a man and a woman arguing.”
Jessica shook her head. “Meggie and Lucas never argue.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve seen the strongest relationship dissolve when it comes to remodeling.”
Jessica threw her hands up. “I’ve just lost my work crew and you’re making jokes. I can’t believe this.”
He took hold of her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Have you considered the possibility that someone staged this?”
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“If no one will work here, you can’t build your town, right?”
She didn’t like what he was getting at. “Of course not.”
“And didn’t you tell me that a review board comes here in January to assess your progress and determine if they’ll grant you a license?”
She nodded.
“And what happens if you don’t get your license?”
She didn’t want to think about it. She couldn’t. “Why would anyone do that to me?”
“Myrna wants this land. Someone else might, too. Or maybe someone doesn’t want you to build a youth center here. You tell me.”
It was a strong possibility, Jessica knew that. Especially after what Jared and Jake had gone through the past few months with someone sabotaging their land. Sam and Myrna had both wanted to buy Makeshift, but Sam had never pestered her about it. And Myrna. Well, Myrna was just Myrna. Jessica hadn’t believed before that her stepmother had anything to do with the problems Jake and Jared had, and she didn’t believe she had anything to do with this, either.
She sighed heavily. But whether it was Meggie and Lucas or whether it was someone else, the effect was the same. If no one would work here, she’d fall behind schedule. She couldn’t let that happen.
She met Dylan’s steady gaze. “We have to find another crew, Dylan. We have to.”
He moved his hands up her shoulders to her neck. His fingers were warm on her skin, and she wanted desperately to lean into him.
“I’ll have to bring in men from farther away,” he said, and his voice sounded thick. “It’s going to take some time.”
He let his hands fall away, then looked at her for a long moment and left. Her skin still burned where he’d touched her. With a sigh, Jessica sank back against the counter. Time was something she did not have in abundance.
She looked at the blueprints still lying on the table. Makeshift was her town. The kids needed it. She needed it.
She was going to build it.
She just had to figure out how.
* * *
“Don’t cry, Meggie,” Lucas said sof
tly. “Please don’t cry.”
Meggie sat in the front church pew, her face buried in her hands. “Oh, Lucas, Jessica must be so angry with me.”
“She’s not angry. She may not understand, but she knows we’d never do anything to hurt her.”
Lucas sat beside Meggie. It was starting to get dark, and soft evening light streamed in through the tall narrow windows of the church. Meggie looked like an angel, he thought. A true angel. She’d been crying since the men had run off, and it broke his heart to see her so miserable.
“And why did that man say we were arguing?” she said between sobs. “We were simply discussing whether they’d properly placed the altar when he sneaked up on us.”
Lucas smiled. “I’m afraid he was right, Meggie, dear. We were arguing.”
She sniffed indignantly. “Well, it might not matter to you, but the altar does belong closer to the front row. Mrs. Wimple wouldn’t be able to hear if the altar was set back too far.”
He didn’t have the heart to remind her Mrs. Wimple was gone, as was everyone else.
“And I most certainly did not throw a hammer at him,” she said sharply. “I was simply moving it before it fell on that piece of glass he was replacing.”
“I know.”
She looked up at him, and the light reflected off the tears in her eyes. “How did this happen, Lucas? How could that man have seen me? No one has ever seen either of us. Well, except for Hannibal.”
Lucas didn’t understand it, either. They’d always needed to be careful about their voices, but no one had ever seen them. Something was happening here. He felt...stronger. And Meggie was glowing brighter. Was it because of the church? Was it possible that, if the church was rebuilt, he and Meggie might be able to move on, as they should have so long ago?
Lucas had no idea. But he prayed Jessica and Dylan would soon have that answer for him.
* * *
Dylan had been in Jessica’s bedroom all morning using her phone. He’d made a dozen calls to every contact he had within a six-hundred-mile radius, but he was batting zero. There were some possibilities in three weeks, but no one wanted to start a new job during the holidays.
He paced, wondering if he should expand his radius, then gave up that idea. He could call to South America and it wouldn’t matter. The chance of finding a replacement crew before the New Year was somewhere between almost none and none.
He sighed heavily and sat on the edge of Jessica’s bed. She’d driven into town earlier, determined to place an ad in the local paper. But he’d seen what she’d come up with the first time she used that technique, and he held little hope that this time would be any different.
Her mattress was soft, he realized. Like she was. The scent of jasmine drifted from her pillow. His sleep had become practically nonexistent as he thought of her each night in here, dressed in silk and lace. He could still vividly see her long bare arms and legs, her smooth thighs and round breasts. He even thought of those damn red toes of hers.
Every time she took a bath or shower, he made sure he had something to do elsewhere. The sound of the water conjured up images that nearly drove him mad.
The persistent honk of a car horn had him jumping up guiltily. He looked out the window and saw Jessica pulling up in front of the hotel. Several young men climbed out of the bed of her truck. Another truck and a small sedan pulled alongside.
What the hell was she up to? he wondered, and went down to meet her on the hotel steps. Her companions, five of them, fell in behind.
“Dylan. I want you to meet some friends of mine.” Jessica smiled brightly and turned to her entourage.
“This is Tony—” a pencil-thin redhead smiled “—Peter—” a dark-haired, dark-skinned kid nodded “Larry” a short-haired, diamond-stud-in-the-ear blonde raised his hand “—Josh—” a barrel-chested kid with curly brown hair stuck out his hand “—and Dean.”
The last kid was tall and lanky with piercing gray eyes and black hair. He stood back from the rest, leaning against Jessica’s truck, his arms folded.
Impatience rippled through Dylan. Here he was, facing total shutdown of the project, and Jessica was bringing company to visit. He didn’t have time for this.
“You’ll have to excuse me,” he said tightly, forcing his irritation down, “but I’ve got more phone calls to make. I’m trying to find us a crew.”
He started to turn away, but Jessica took hold of his arm and pulled him back. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. This is your crew.”
He stared at her blankly. “What did you say?”
“This is your new crew. Plus four more tomorrow.”
He looked at the kids again, then back at Jessica. His first impulse was to say she must be kidding, but he knew she wasn’t. She was dead serious. “I don’t think you understand, Jessica. I need qualified men, experienced men.”
Dylan felt the bristling among the group, especially Dean, who narrowed his eyes and pushed away from the truck.
“They are experienced, Dylan. Each of them has worked with their fathers or for someone else in the building trades. Especially Dean. He’s been framing houses for a local builder for two years.”
Dylan looked at the youth, who glared back.
Taking hold of Jessica’s arm, Dylan pulled her inside the hotel. “Are you out of your mind? We aren’t building a tree house here. This is hard work, long hours. These are kids. Kids who should be in school, I might add.”
Frowning, Jessica put a finger to her lips. “They all have vacation until after the first of the year, plus several of them are on home study. And they want to work. They just need someone to give them a chance.” She leaned close, her expression fervent. “Everyone deserves at least one chance, Dylan. Don’t you believe that?”
He did, dammit. Dylan had barely turned eighteen when Tom Quincy hired him on blind faith and taught him how to swing a hammer. God only knew where he’d have ended up if the man hadn’t given him a chance. He swore silently.
“This isn’t one chance, Jessica. It’s nine. I’ll have to hold hands with every one of them. Time and mistakes are both money. Can you afford that?”
She lifted her gaze to his. “Dylan, don’t you understand? That’s what Makeshift is all about. We can’t afford not to. It’s why I’m here, why I’m doing this. Please, just give it a try.” She leaned closer still and placed her hands on his arms. “Please.”
He felt her body tense against his, and her whispered plea circled him like a net. He was caught. She could have asked him to build a skyscraper with paper clips and he would have done it.
And at this point he didn’t have any better ideas, either.
He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “I’m going to regret this.”
She laughed, then reached up and kissed his cheek. “You won’t. I promise.”
When she went out to tell the kids, he shook his head and let out a long slow breath. The scent of her lingered, and his cheek felt warm where her lips had been.
She was wrong, he thought. He already did regret it.
* * *
“I think I’m going to be sick.” Annie closed her eyes and sank onto the chair in front of the dressing table. Strains of Beethoven floated in from the church organ outside, and the scent of roses filled the air.
“No, you’re not.” Jessica handed Annie a soda cracker. “You’re too beautiful to be sick.”
“You’ll be fine,” Savannah said, hooking the clasp of Annie’s pearl necklace. “And Jessica’s right. You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”
Annie shook her head. “I saw your wedding pictures. You were.”
Because the conversation distracted Annie, Jessica didn’t interrupt as she and Savannah disputed who was the more beautiful bride. They were both beautiful of course. Breathtakingly so.
Emma sat on the sofa, kicking her feet as she fidgeted with the flowers in her basket. “How much longer?” she asked.
Jessica stuck her head out the door. Jared
and Jake stood at the front of the church by a huge arrangement of red and white flowers. Jared glanced nervously at his watch. She scanned the crowded pews, then her heart tripped as one figure sat taller than the rest.
Dylan?
“Annie,” she said, her pulse racing as she turned back to her soon-to-be sister-in-law, “did you invite Dylan?”
“Jared did.” Annie clipped on a pearl-drop earring. “I guess he ran into him last night in town at his bachelor party and they had a few beers.”
Jared invited Dylan? Jessica couldn’t believe it. Jared barely spoke to Dylan, and now he’d invited him to his wedding? And where did he get that suit he had on? He looked absolutely devastating.
“I saw Dylan this morning before Savannah picked me up,” Jessica said thoughtfully. “He never mentioned he was coming.”
“Maybe he decided at the last minute.” Savannah adjusted Annie’s veil. “And since it’s just we girls, you want to tell us what’s going on with you two?”
Jessica felt her cheeks warm. “Well, we just hired a few of the kids from my teen group in town, and they’ve been terrific. Even Dean Johnson, one of the most reluctant kids in the group, has—”
“That’s not what we mean, Jessie, and you know it.” Savannah nudged Annie. “She’s almost as red as her dress, Annie. Something’s up.”
Jessica forced herself to stop staring at Dylan and closed the door, pretending sudden interest in straightening the hair she’d swept up on her head. “Nothing at all is up. We work together, that’s all.”
“She’s in the denial stage,” Annie said knowingly. Savannah nodded with a sigh.
Jessica pressed her lips together. “There’s nothing to deny.”
“Stubborn. Just like her brothers.” Savannah picked up a tube of lipstick and swept the rose color over her lips. “Look me in the eye, Jess,” she said, “and tell me the man’s not gorgeous.”
“I also happen to know from a reliable source that she likes, uh, attractive posteriors, too.” Annie glanced at Emma, who was humming and counting rose petals. “I’ve also noticed that she’s noticed the said subject, if you know what I mean.”
Texas Pride Page 8