by C. J. Scott
We walked together to the front of the house, past the tangle of vines and overgrown shrubs. I decided that I'd spend more time up here this summer and try to tidy it up a little. It would be hard work through the heat of the day, but there was little else to do in Winter. Maybe when Beth returned she could help too. Her parents had met her at college, and they'd all gone to the beach together. Some families did that. Not mine. Our fourth friend from school days who still had a connection to Winter, Lucy, probably wouldn't be coming home at all. She'd got herself a summer internship at a law firm. I'd miss her. It would be the first summer in Winter where one of us was missing.
"What's Mrs. Merriweather like?" Ben asked.
"Old, grumpy." I smiled. "But she can be funny too, although I don't think she means to be. The kindest thing you can say about Mrs. M is that she's a product of an upbringing in a time when the world was very different. She was a society diva back in the days when Winter was a thriving town in the Fifties. Apparently she had many beaus before she settled on Mr.
Merriweather." I shrugged. "I don't know how much thought went into the arrangement though."
He stopped and rounded on me. "Why do you say that?"
His reaction threw me. "I, um, well the Merriweathers were the richest family in town and hers, the Forsythes, was the second. They ran the two mills. I guess it would have been natural for them to marry." I shrugged. "That's all. Why?"
He walked on, his strides longer than before so that I had to race to keep up. "Just curious. How many children did they have?"
"Just the one, Jane's father."
He took a breath and I thought he was going to ask me something else, but he must have changed his mind. We'd reached the front porch. He set the toolbox down and picked out a screwdriver.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"The loose and broken tiles need to come out before they can be replaced. Wouldn't want anyone to trip over them, would we?" He winked and I couldn't help thinking that I wouldn't mind tripping over them again if he was there to catch me.
"Is there another one of those in the toolbox?"
He pulled out a smaller screwdriver. "You don't have to help."
"I want to. Besides, this way I can avoid Mrs. M."
"Aha! So you don't actually want to help me."
I grinned. "It's the lesser of two evils."
"In that case, thanks." He handed me the screwdriver. "They'll pop off pretty easy." To prove it, he wedged the flat head under a broken tile and lifted it. It came away in two pieces, which he set aside. "Sure you don't want to go and talk to Jane?"
"She's probably busy reading to her Gran or preparing the spare room for you."
"She doesn't need to do that."
"Knowing her, yes she does. She'd be mortified if you saw it unmade."
"It's very good of her to let me stay the night."
"You're doing this for her. Win-win."
"Yeah, but..." He shrugged. "I'm a stranger. She's taken a gamble on me, thanks to you."
His smile was tentative, sweet, his gaze intense as he looked at me from beneath half-closed eyelids.
My chest tightened and my cheeks heated. I set to work on a loose tile to hide my face, but I could feel his gaze lingering on me for a few moments more before he too returned to the porch tiles.
We worked together for a while, neither speaking. It was comfortable and I felt completely at ease, although I had several burning questions I wanted to ask. I refrained because I didn't want the comfort to be replaced by awkwardness. It just wasn't worth it.
"Thanks again," he said after what must have been twenty minutes. "You should take a break."
"I'm fine," I said, stretching my back. "I don't mind helping. Glad I can be of some use around here. Every summer Jane tells me she doesn't need help or that I've got such a short time in Winter that I should be with my parents. I'm just grateful she's letting someone do something."
"You go to college, right? What are you studying?"
"Criminology."
He rocked back on his heels and blinked slowly at me. "That's...an interesting career choice."
"I guess."
"So what does a criminologist do once she's qualified?"
"Probably continue to pull beers at the local bar," I said with a laugh. "Jobs are hard to come by these days."
"Tell me about it," he said, popping off another tile.
"Are you qualified for anything?"
"Not really."
"'Not really' is not really an answer. It's either yes or no."
He gave a wry smile. "I started an architecture degree, but never finished."
"Architecture? No wonder you like this old place. Why didn't you finish?"
He didn't say anything for a while. The only sound came from our scraping screwdrivers and a lone bird in a nearby tree chirping away. "Circumstances changed, and I couldn't complete it."
It wasn't a proper answer, but I didn't want to push for one. I didn't want to upset the comfortable companionship that had developed between us.
"You seem pretty good with tools," I said instead. "I thought you were going to tell me you're a plumber or something."
"I fixed stuff all the time when I was growing up. Things were always falling apart."
Which meant he either grew up without a father or grew up with a useless one.
"Did you live in an old house like this?"
His screwdriver slipped and scratched the tile he was trying to remove. He stopped working and looked at me. "Why do you ask that?"
I shrugged. "You seem to like it. I just thought it reminded you of home."
He returned to his task. "I've never been inside a place like this one before. The houses I lived in were smaller."
"Mine too. This place is one of a kind around here now." I wanted to return our conversation to the earlier friendly footing. I didn't like this awkwardness and unease. "The house Mrs. M lived in before she married was pulled down, as were most of the other old places from back then. There's a couple left, but none as grand as this one."
"All that history, gone," he said on a sigh.
"Most of the stores are original. Isn't that why you got off the bus here in the first place? Because you liked them?"
His hesitation was brief, but noticeable. "The buildings are beautiful. They don't build them like that anymore, something aesthetic as well as functional."
"Winter is different. No argument there." But I wasn't convinced it deserved the awe with which he talked about it. I supposed the buildings were pretty, but pretty buildings didn't breathe life into a town. People did that, and sadly, Winter had very few residents left who didn't require walkers to get around.
"Why haven't the tourists discovered this place?" he asked. "It's right on the river, and it's got beautiful old buildings and great views. It doesn't make sense."
"Someone tried a B&B once, but it closed after a couple of years. Nobody came. They kept going to Riverside. It's got better facilities and the views are just as nice."
"But the buildings aren't. There's no sense of history there, not like here. Did the B&B owners advertise? Did the town get behind them and bring in fishing supplies and other things tourists want?"
"I don't think so." I sat back on my haunches and thought about it. "It's like they don't want to be discovered."
"So they'd rather let their town die?"
"I guess so."
"That's sad."
"Yeah, well, this place is sad."
I could feel his eyes on me again and I looked up. He was frowning, but quickly turned away. I knew he wanted to say something, but he stayed quiet. I would have asked what bothered him, but the crunch of gravel beneath tires drew my attention. I stood as a car I recognized drove up and parked behind Jane's.
"Someone you know?" Ben asked, standing beside me.
"My dad," I said as he got out. At least he wasn't in the squad car or in uniform. Mom had probably made him change before coming. She knew it would ha
ve embarrassed me more.
"Am I about to get the third degree?" Ben said, a hint of humor edging his voice.
"Undoubtedly," I muttered as Dad strolled up to us. "Hey," I said to him. "What are you doing here?"
"Your mother told me you were staying the night. I wanted to make sure you had everything you needed." His gaze flicked from mine to Ben's.
"This is Ben Parker," I said. "Ben, this is my dad, Jim Bell."
They shook hands and nodded greetings. Ben was taller than Dad, but Dad had a sort of presence that made it seem like they were physical equals. I guess it was a cop thing. "Kate's mother says you were just passing through and needed somewhere to stay the night," he said to Ben.
"Yes, sir. Jane was kind enough to offer me a room here and your wife has provided us with dinner. I'm very grateful."
Dad nodded slowly, his gaze taking in everything about Ben, slowly, carefully. "So you got off a bus in a strange town with no money. Seems like an odd thing to do."
Ben shifted his weight and his grip tightened around the screwdriver. "I can see how it looks that way. Be assured, sir, I won't stay longer than necessary."
"Stay as long as you like. We've got no problem with strangers here in Winter as long as they behave themselves."
Jeez, could he sound any more like a cop? "Ben says the water heater will need replacing," I said.
Dad's eyebrows rose. "You've already looked at it?"
"Yes, sir. Kate and I just started on these tiles."
Dad nudged the pile of broken tiles with his toe. "What are you going to replace them with?"
"There's a stack of spares in the stables."
"Oh," I said. "Great. Will they take long to lay?"
"I'll do what I can in the morning."
"That's mighty good of you," Dad said. "Laying tiles is back-breaking work."
"I've done worse."
Dad gave a single nod. "So where are you from, Ben?"
"Minnesota."
"Where in Minnesota?"
Ben's gaze met Dad's. "Minneapolis."
"That's a long way away. What're you doing here in Montana and Winter in particular?"
"Just passing through, like I said."
"On your way to...?"
"Dad!" I grabbed his arm and led him toward the front door. "Be back in a minute, Ben." I dragged Dad inside and shut the door. "What're you doing?" I snapped.
"My job."
"Your job doesn't include interrogating people for no reason!"
"Not my job as a cop, my job as your father."
"Well...stop it."
He ruffled his thick gray hair and screwed up his nose. It was the face he pulled when he was about to say something he knew I wouldn't like. "Can't do that, Katie Bell."
"Dad! Ben's a nice guy. You don't have to give him the third degree."
"How do you know he's okay? Done a background check on him, have you?"
"Dad." It came out whiny and Dad hated whiny. I took a deep breath and spoke to him on a level I knew he'd understand. "Look. I'm a Bell, just like you. I have good instincts too, and my instincts are telling me Ben wouldn't hurt anyone. He just needed somewhere to stay the night, and he's willing to work as payment."
He crossed his arms over his chest. "So why's he traveling without money? Why'd he get off the bus in Winter and not Riverside?"
"He didn't like Riverside. Too commercial. He's a history buff and an architecture student. Winter just appealed to him." I hoped throwing in the architecture thing might warm Dad to Ben a little. People thought of college students as responsible and normal, not ax murderers.
Dad humphed. "So if he's got nothing to hide, he won't mind giving me some ID."
"So you can do what?" I threw my hands up. "Check on him?"
"It's a test, Kate. If he doesn't want to give me his ID, then I'll know he's hiding something."
"Oh my God! You're unbelievable! You and Mom. Can't you just let him be? He's doing Jane and Mrs. M a favor."
"That he is, but I'm not letting you stay here alone without having some sort of security. I don't think Mrs. M could beat him off with her walking stick, do you?"
"Dad..." But I had no counter argument to that one.
"It's for your own good, Katie Bell."
That's what he always said when he used to drive me to parties in Riverside and wait out front until it was over to take me home again. Or when he wouldn't help me buy a car. I had enough saved for something small and old, but he insisted I wait until I had enough for a reliable family-sized car instead. It was safer and for my 'own good.'
"Either I take his ID, or I stay here the night," Dad said with a shrug of his shoulders.
I groaned. "You know I sleep in the college dorm with dozens of guys not far away."
"That's different. Your door is locked, and the dorm has strict rules."
It was no use. I was outplayed. "Don't tell him you're a cop, okay?"
He frowned. "Why not?"
"Because it scares guys off." I knew that from experience. Once the Riverside boys found out my father was a policemen, they'd given me a wide berth. No one wanted to go out with a girl whose father would tail us on our dates.
"I thought Ben Parker was just passing through," he said with a challenging lift of his eyebrows. "Are you telling me he's a potential boyfriend?"
"No!" Christ, where had that come from?
From me, I realized. I liked Ben. Liked him a lot, despite our short acquaintance. I wanted to get to know him better, wanted to feel his touch again, and experience a kiss with him. Several kisses. And a lot more.
Damn. I was falling for him and falling hard. It was going to be awful watching him catch the bus out of Winter the next day.
"You only met him a few hours ago," Dad said.
I leaned back against the wall and let out a long breath. "I know."
"And he's leaving tomorrow."
"I know that too."
He put his arm around me, and I rested my head against his shoulder briefly before moving away. When I was a kid and Dad used to put his arm around me like that, I'd feel safe. Now, I felt claustrophobic.
"Mr. Bell!" Jane said, heading along the corridor toward us. "I didn't hear you arrive."
"Hi, Jane. How's your Gran?"
"Fine. Are you here to see Kate?"
He nodded.
Jane's gaze slid to mine. She knew how I felt about Mom and Dad's helicopter parenting.
"Have you met Ben?"
"Just now, outside."
"He's very nice. Did he fix the water heater?" she asked me.
I shook my head. "He says you need a new one."
Her face fell for a moment before she smiled. It was totally fake, but whether Dad realized or not, I couldn't tell.
Dad led the way out to the front porch where Ben was still removing broken tiles. He told Jane he was going to lay new ones in the morning before he left.
"Wow." She bit her lower lip, but not before I saw it quiver.
"I could have done it for you," Dad said. "Or Frank, or anyone else. You only had to ask."
"Thank you, Mr. Bell."
I put my arm around her and hugged her. She and I both knew that Dad's offer, while genuine, would never have been accepted. Mrs. M wouldn't hear of it. She loathed being the recipient of charity, whereas Ben was as good as hired help. He was getting something in return.
"Mind if I see some ID, Mr. Parker?" Dad asked.
Ben stood slowly, screwdriver in one hand, broken tile in the other. He glanced at me then Dad, a small frown line joining his straight eyebrows. "Sure," he said.
I let out my breath, relaxed my stance. Of course he would agree. Why wouldn't he? Any sensible person would and Ben was sensible. Normal. I was sure of it. My instincts were good too, damn it.
He pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to Dad. "This your last address?" Dad asked, flicking the card with his fingertips. Could he sound any more like a cop?
"That's what it says," Ben s
aid.
Dad's gaze lifted to Ben's face then lowered again to the card. He handed it back. "Thanks. I appreciate it. Just fatherly concern, you understand. I don't mean anything by it."
Ha! Dad eating humble pie. I threw a smug smile Jane's way. She winked back.
"Mr. Bell, I'm not going to hurt Kate or Jane, or Mrs. Merriweather," Ben said. "I know my word won't mean much, but I'll give it anyway. You can trust me."
Dad held his hand out. "I appreciate it, Mr. Parker."
"Call me Ben." He shook Dad's hand.
"Give your Gran my regards, Jane," Dad said. "Katie." He kissed my forehead and headed down the steps to his car.
I followed him and leaned on his door after he got in. "Thanks, Dad. I know it's tough for you to leave me here with a complete stranger."
"I'm getting used to it. Your Mom and I have been leaving you with strangers for three years now."
I tilted my head to the side. "Was it really that hard letting me go off to college on my own?"
He barked a short, harsh laugh and started the car. "This is a piece of cake by comparison."
I waved him off and turned back round. Both Ben and Jane were watching me.
I frowned at them. "What's wrong?"
"What do you mean?" Jane asked as Ben suddenly took an interest in the pile of broken tiles.
"You two were watching me and Dad with weird expressions."
Jane shrugged. "I was just thinking what a good man he is to come up here and check on you."
"Yeah," I muttered. "He's god-damned perfect."
"Hey, don't talk about him like that. He's got a big heart. Your Mom too. It's not their fault they worry about you."
"No, but it is their fault they smother me."
"He left, didn't he?"
I sighed. "I suppose. It's just that, being back here is so stifling. I feel like Dad's watching everything I do, and Mom just wants me home with her in the kitchen. I can't do anything without a great big bag of guilt landing on my shoulders." Just like the last few years of school before I went to college. Every time I'd tried to spread my wings, they'd swoop in and clip them.
I'd get mad, they'd apologize and tell me they were only doing what they thought best, and I'd wind up feeling like a total bitch.
"That'll do," Ben announced. "I don't want to lift any more broken tiles in case there's not enough spare ones to replace them."