She shut her eyes as he trailed a finger down her arm. “Not really.”
“It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. This is between us.”
“If we don’t let other people pull us apart, the only thing that can separate us is our fears.”
“What are you still afraid of, Mara?”
She clutched at her thoughts as they attempted to flee beneath the overwhelming rush of sensation that his touch provoked. “I’m afraid you don’t really know me,” she said, her words no more than a shallow breath. “And I’m afraid I don’t know you.”
He bent over her and softly kissed her cheek. “I know you, Mara. I know you inside and out. I know you better than anyone could…We’re two of a kind. That means you know me, too. You know who I am, what I do, what I want. You understand how I think. You know me, Mara—you’re the only woman I’ve wanted to let know me.”
She slipped her arms around his broad shoulders as his familiar scent drifted around her. “I do know you,” she murmured, dangerously, hopelessly lost in him again.
Chapter Eighteen
Mara’s interview with Dr. Stephen Long of the Bureau of Land Management could not have gone better. His passion for history was obvious, and she instinctively liked him. His memories of Todd added to the storehouse she was saving to share with Abby one day. In the agency’s Las Cruces office that Monday afternoon, he approved her position as director of the restoration project.
A trip to the pediatrician later that day affirmed that Abby was healthy and strong, growing like a weed, developing perfectly. The cold had been just that—a minor sniffle. The next morning, Mara kissed her daughter goodbye, handed Ramona a sheaf of instructions, and climbed into the pickup truck. Brock waved to her from the end of the driveway, and Mara watched him saunter toward the barn, his blue jeans and denim shirt in sharp contrast to his black hair and black boots.
She loved him. That was the clearest thing in Mara’s mind as she drove toward Fort Selden. She loved Brock, and she wanted to live as his wife for the rest of her life. But did he love her? He had never said those words—and maybe he didn’t feel them.
Again she wondered how well she knew the man. During their short honeymoon, he had said very little about his hopes for their future. He spoke of Abby growing up in the ranch house, but he didn’t ask for Mara’s opinion on the matter. And even though he had told Mara he wanted people to know their marriage was on different terms now, he had said nothing about their separate bedrooms. He had given her no ring, no words of love and no blueprint for their restructured relationship.
And she knew Brock Barnett was a blueprint kind of man.
But there was little time for worry as she plunged into her first day of work as a restorationist. Dressed in khaki slacks and layers of warm sweaters, she had pulled her hair up into a tight ponytail and laced heavy boots on her feet. Seated in the open air with the melting adobe walls surrounding them, she held her first meeting with Mr. Dominguez, State Park personnel and the fort supervisor.
Even in its dilapidated state, Fort Selden welcomed more than eleven thousand tourists a year. Three full-time rangers conducted tours for individuals, organizations and groups of schoolchildren. Once a year, the fort’s Frontier Days featured black-powder shooting, farrier demonstrations, square dancing, races and other competitions, hayrides and a nineteenth-century fashion show. In summer, living history demonstrations were scheduled each hour during the afternoon on Saturdays and Sundays. In the midst of all this activity, Mara would have to conduct her restoration work.
The plans Todd had drawn up called for the work crew to shore up and preserve in their present condition most of the single-story adobe structures in the fort complex. But the two-story administration building, the infirmary and the prison were to be completely rebuilt according to the original blueprints. This meant Mara would need to purchase adobe bricks from a Las Cruces supplier and assemble a crew of skilled carpenters, bricklayers, electricians and even plumbers. Mr. Dominguez would supervise.
After spending the first two days alone at the fort, Mara decided it was time for Abby to join the team. Ramona proved to be the ideal assistant. She occupied the baby when Abby wasn’t sleeping, watched over her when she was. And when it was time for a feeding, she brought Abby to her mother. Ramona struck up a friendship with the staff. One in particular—a young ranger named Danny—caught her eye, and the two of them often walked the park trails together while Mara was tending to Abby. Mara organized her time so that she could carry out her work, but see to her daughter’s needs as often as possible. It was a perfect arrangement.
Within the first week, Mara had ordered and received her first shipment of bricks—heavy brown twelve-by-eighteen-inch slabs of mud mixed with straw. The blocks looked more like giant bars of chocolate candy than building materials. Adobe, she quickly learned, was actually easy to use in building. Though the heavy blocks were somewhat uneven in size, they mortared well, dried fast and were simple to design with. The ease with which adobe walls went up, Mara discovered, contributed to the ease with which they came down. Under less-than-ideal conditions, and without regular maintenance, adobe structures could disintegrate fairly quickly—as the fort evidenced.
Though she had no experience in construction, Mara absorbed Mr. Dominguez’s enthusiasm about building with adobe. Whole walls could be erected and windows cut out later. A pronged tool scraped down the side of a wall provided a trench in which to run wiring or pipe. A quick slap of mortar over the top of the trench safely sealed it away. There was no framing, no insulation, no Sheetrock. Best of all, the adobe buildings were cool in summer and toasty warm in winter.
Late on her first Friday afternoon, Mara stood at the edge of the site with her crew to survey their work. Every muscle in her body ached from the heavy labor. Her clothing was splattered with mud and her boots were caked with it. She was physically more tired than she’d ever been, but Mara felt victorious.
She and Mr. Dominguez worked together like cogs in a smoothly oiled machine. He respected her opinions and her position as director, and she admired his enormous experience and his willingness to teach. Their hastily assembled crew members had proven themselves loyal and eager to succeed in the interesting task. Even the rangers, who had been concerned about the workers’ interruption of the fort’s routine, had decided to incorporate the reconstruction into their daily guided tours. They urged visitors to return often to “see what will happen as Fort Selden is reborn.” And Mara was delighted to explain her plans to the groups of excited students.
“I think we might be able to finish the administration building in two months,” Mr. Dominguez said. “But you’d better order some more bricks. The last thing this old, tired body wants to do is build wooden forms and pour them bricks myself. You never knew hard work till you try mixing mud and straw, I’m telling you.”
“I’ll call in an order right now,” Mara agreed. “If we keep the bricks protected from the rain, we can store them until they’re needed.”
“As long as we don’t make them an eyesore.”
“True. Dr. Long is coming to inspect the site in a couple of weeks. That’ll be our ultimate test. If we don’t pass muster, we’re out of work.”
Mr. Dominguez glanced at the other workers who had gathered for the meeting. “Keep your noses clean, boys, and do what Mrs. Barnett tells you. This has been a good week, but we’re just getting started. Next week the work really begins.” He took off his battered hat and rubbed a handkerchief over his balding scalp. “Let’s go home before we get some more tourists who want to parade through the work site.”
“Great idea,” Mara agreed. “I’m beat.”
“Me, too. Uh-oh, here comes a truck.”
Mara started to groan, then stopped short. “Wait a minute, that’s…that’s Brock!” She slapped Mr. Dominguez on the back. “That’s my husband!”
She took off toward the pickup, her blond ponytail bouncing behind her. As Brock’s long legs emerged
from the cab, her heart soared. The past few days had been so different from the weekend before. Supper had been their only meal together, and the hours of talking and touching were condensed into a few minutes each night. Mara had missed their togetherness, and she was anticipating a weekend of nothing but family—herself, Brock and Abby.
“Hey, boss lady!” he said as she threw her arms around him. “Thought I’d drive out and take a look.”
“Oh, Brock, it’s great to see you!” She looked into his brown eyes and a wash of emotion poured through her. She loved this man. She loved Brock Barnett…differently, but just as deeply as she had loved her first husband.
Ramona emerged from the visitor center, and Brock lifted Abby from her arms. “Hi there, sweetie pie. How’s my Abigail?”
“Come meet my crew,” Mara urged. “Mr. Dominguez and the others are just about to head for home.”
Brock planted a kiss on Mara’s forehead. “I miss you,” he murmured.
“Not for long,” she returned with a wink. She called out a greeting to Mr. Dominguez who was lumbering toward them. As he shook hands with Brock, the others in the crew gathered to meet their boss’s husband.
“You’ve got to see what we’re working on,” Mara said, lacing her fingers through Brock’s free hand as he cradled Abby with the other. “This has been such an amazing week. It’s as if Todd knew exactly what needed to be done to bring the administration building back to life. He was brilliant, Brock, he really was.”
“I never doubted it.” As he walked beside Mara, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Mara finally had to elbow the man to get him to quit ogling.
She showed him around the site, pointing out the locations of buildings that were now no more than low brown walls, half melted by rain and wind. “This central area is the parade ground…that’s the infirmary and there’s the post store,” she explained. “The fort was originally built to house one company of infantry and another company of cavalry and its sixty horses. After 1879, the commanding officer received word to begin dismantling usable materials for shipping to Fort Bliss in El Paso, and the post was abandoned.”
“So that was the end of it?” Brock asked.
“All the buildings were destroyed and left absolutely worthless. But in 1880 the fort was reactivated and rebuilt. This time, though, it could only accommodate one company. During that building phase, Captain Arthur MacArthur came to the post with his family, which included six-year-old Douglas.”
“The Douglas MacArthur who became a general?”
“You got it.” Mara rewarded him with a grin. “It’s another reason we want tourists to visit the site. This fort is one of the cradles of U.S. history. The administration building is our first project. It’s complicated, because we have to make sure the structure is strong enough to support a second floor. Adobe buildings are usually on one level.”
“Like the old trading post.”
“That’s right. This is so tricky, but you should see how Mr. Dominguez goes at it. He’s amazing.” She tapped the roll of blueprints she was carrying. “And Todd has every detail drawn in, right down to the floorboards and nails. The plans are perfectly in tune with this place, Brock. They show exactly where everything has to go. Todd’s got such a sense of historical authenticity. He’s just amazing.”
“Was,” Brock said.
Mara glanced up in surprise.
“Todd was amazing,” he repeated.
She stared at him. “I know. But it’s like I can sense what he was doing here. I feel like I hear his voice talking, explaining things to me. We worked so hard together over these plans, and I know his thinking when I look at them. I understand what he intends with every line.”
“Intended.”
“Brock—”
“What he intended, Mara. Past tense.”
Her fingers tightened on the blueprints. “Brock…”
“Mara, what are you doing? Are you forgetting that he’s gone?”
“No, but why should it bother you?”
“You don’t have to keep on talking like he’s still here.”
“Brock, I’m trying to tell you—”
“Mrs. Barnett,” Mr. Dominguez’s voice interrupted her, and she turned to see the builder waving. “We got another visitor here. It’s that Dr. Long fellow.”
“Dr. Long?” Mara’s heart jolted. “Oh, no. I didn’t expect him today.”
Without pausing to conclude their discussion, she whirled away from Brock, smoothed down her hair and started across the open parade ground toward the waiting vehicle. Dr. Long wasn’t due back for a couple of weeks. Did she have everything in order? Would he be annoyed with something she’d left undone? Only a week on-site! She’d hardly had time to get her feet wet. And what about Brock…and Abby?
She swung around again, focusing on the tall man holding the baby. “I’ll be right back,” she called out.
“We’ll be at home.” His voice was clipped.
“Wait, Brock.” She watched him turn away. Facing the newly arrived car, she muttered to herself. “Great…just great.”
There was no time to reason with Brock. Her stomach in a knot, Mara did her best to paste a calm smile on her face as she heard the sound of his pickup pulling away from the fort. Had she hurt him so deeply with her mention of Todd? Didn’t he understand she would always love her first husband—but she had no illusions about the fact that he was gone? Didn’t he realize how much he—Brock—had come to mean to her?
“Mrs. Barnett!” Dr. Long greeted her warmly, his hand extended.
“This is a surprise,” she replied, dusting off her palms on her thighs before shaking his hand. She wished she’d at least had time to brush her hair and wash the mud off her face. “I didn’t expect you.”
“I was up north checking on the other forts. Since my flight leaves from El Paso, I thought I’d drop in on you to see how things were going.”
“I see. Well, things are going very well. Mr. Dominguez is doing a terrific job with his crew, and we already have our first shipment of adobe. In fact, we began laying bricks this morning.”
“Mind if I take a look?”
“I’d be happy to show you around.” Mara glanced at the cloud of dust rising from the road as Brock’s pickup vanished in the distance. She felt sick inside. How could they have argued over something so small? But was it small? Obviously, Brock cared a great deal how she felt about Todd. After all this time…after their physical and verbal commitment…didn’t Brock know what he meant to her?
“My goodness, you have been busy,” Dr. Long commented, oblivious to her turmoil. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen so many adobe bricks.”
“The supplier we’re using is one of the biggest in the state, and we’re fortunate that it’s in Las Cruces. The company ships adobe bricks as far north as Albuquerque and Santa Fe. But we’ll go through these quickly. In fact, I was planning to call in another order in a few minutes.”
Dr. Long nodded as they resumed their walk. “Mr. Dominguez and I think we can finish the administration building in two months. The other structures shouldn’t take nearly as long.”
They strolled across the parade ground to the ruins of the jail. “Have you thought about what it will mean to your family, Mrs. Barnett, when you start on the other sites? Those forts are certainly not within easy driving distance of your husband’s ranch.”
She toed a clod of dirt. “I’m focusing on this project right now, Dr. Long. It’s difficult to look beyond it at the moment.”
“But you have a new baby. And a new husband. What does Brock think?”
“He’s been very supportive.”
“Your husband mentioned he owns a small plane that you could use for commuting to the more distant sites.”
Mara glanced up. “He did?”
“Yes. He seems determined to help these projects move forward.”
“You spoke to Brock?”
“About two weeks ago we discussed the future of the restoration co
mpany. I assumed he shared that with you.”
“No.” Mara frowned. She knew that around the time of their hasty wedding, Brock had been in contact with the department. Had he also been talking with them during the weeks she was pitching her proposal?
“Now, this jail should be quite a tourist draw,” Dr. Long said, changing the subject abruptly. “People love to look at jails, prisons, courtrooms, crime scenes and battlegrounds. Bring the people in and you suddenly have funds, legislative support, all kinds of good things. Do you have any documentation of the jail’s historical use?”
“I’m working on it. I’d like to create artifact displays inside each restored building.”
“Good idea. That would complement what’s already in the visitor center.” He walked beside her around the walls of the old jail. “You know, Fort Craig has three warehouses—each larger and deeper than an Olympic-sized swimming pool. There was once a bakery, a guardhouse, officers’ quarters. And that fort was encircled by an earthen wall. Do you suppose we could rebuild that wall, Mrs. Barnett?”
“As I said, I’m taking one project at a time. Fort Selden is the best-preserved of all the sites, and look at the shape it’s in. I have detailed blueprints for each of the forts, of course, but I guess everything depends on whether there’s money to restore them all.”
Dr. Long’s eyebrows rose. “The funding looks very strong at this point.”
“That’s good to know.” She brushed back a wisp of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. “As I work on this project, I’ll continue to pull together what I’ll need for the next one. Mr. Dominguez is willing to move to each site, and I’ll speak with my husband about his airplane.”
“Good. I’m pleased with the start you’ve made here, Mrs. Barnett. It looks like Brock was right. You do have what it takes to run your late husband’s company.”
A little frown tugging at her lips, Mara walked him back to his rental car. “I take it you’ve spoken with Brock several times?”
“Yes. He’s a nice man. Totally supportive of you and this work.”
Love's Haven Page 23