One Day in Apple Grove

by C. H. Admirand

  Her belly clutched and fresh need sprinted through her. “If the other ladies in town knew how talented you are—” she began, only to close her mouth at his frown.

  “You planning on taking out an ad in the Gazette?”

  She let her finger slide over his breastbone and down to his navel. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But then everyone would want a turn and you’d be too tired to make love with me.”

  He was chuckling as he lay back down and shifted so she was on top. “I’m too heavy for you.”

  “You felt just right,” she said, leaning down to press her lips to his chin. “And for the record, I’m not telling anyone how talented you are because I want to keep you all to myself.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  She leaned back and made an X over her heart. “Promise.”

  “Works for me,” he said. “Now about that talent…”

  ***

  Jack woke when a cold wet nose pressed against his side. “Hey, boy.” When Jamie whined, he shifted a sleeping Caitlin onto her side and got up to let the dog out.

  After Jamie peed, Jack opened the door and nearly walked into Caitlin. “Whoa,” he said, steadying her. “What’s wrong?”

  “I woke up when I got chilly.” Brushing a hand over his shoulder, she smiled and his heart tumbled further toward love. “Did we scar him for life?”

  He chuckled at her reference to making love in front of the dog. “I think he’s impressed by my mad skills.”

  Her delighted laughter wrapped around his heart, tugging him the rest of the way into love. “I wish you could stay the night.”

  Jack pulled her against him and reveled in the feel of her whisper-soft skin slowly heating against his. “I love the way you feel in my arms. If I talk to your father, do you think he’d let you stay?”

  “So his darling daughter could engage in another mind-boggling bout of heart-stopping sex?”

  He chuckled even though he tried to be stern. “I thought we made love?”

  Her eyes softened. “We did, and it was amazing.”

  He had to agree. “But we need—”

  “To get going,” she finished for him. “I know.” She looked him in the eye and tried to frown as she said, “Someone told my dad he’d give me a ride home.”

  With a sigh of frustrated regret, he released her. “The last thing I want to do is give your dad a reason to doubt my word.”

  “Hmmm…I guess so. Hey, do you think he thinks we’re playing canasta?”

  Jack just shook his head. “I hate to burst your bubble, babe, but I don’t think so.” He looked down at Jamie and asked, “You want to go for a ride?” Jamie bounced up and down before settling down when Jack told him to sit.

  “Can I go too?” Caitlin asked, brushing up against him again, skin to skin teasing him to the point of madness.

  “Quit teasing me,” he grumbled. “I’ve got to take you home, woman.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “Come on,” he urged. “Go get dressed.”

  She paused in the doorway. “Aren’t you coming?”

  He shook his head at her. “If I go with you, one of us will definitely be coming, but then we’ll be late.”

  Her eyes darkened to forest green and he fought against the need to grab her, toss her over his shoulder, and sprint for the stairs. He wanted her in his house, in his bed…in his life. But it was too soon to tell her without her wondering if it was just great sex talking, wasn’t it? They’d been drawn together because of Jamie, but the sparks and tension between them had been there from the first, tempting him.

  Finally, she dragged her feet, but left the room and returned dressed.

  “OK, my turn,” he said, easing past her so they didn’t touch. If they did, he wouldn’t be able to keep from grabbing her and burying his face in her hair, then one thing would lead to another, and they’d end up where they both wanted to be—his bed.

  When they were finally ready, he grabbed Jamie’s leash. “Ready to go for a ride, boy?”

  Once they had the dog clipped to his leash, they walked out the back door. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to sleep tonight,” she confessed. “I’ll be thinking of you, wishing you were there beside me.”

  They got in the car and his hands clenched the wheel, desperate to touch the woman who’d turned him inside out, knowing if he did, he’d yank on the wheel, pull a one-eighty, and head back to his house. Yep, he’d lock the door and keep her.

  As they drove along Eden Church Road, she talked to the dog as if she expected him to answer. Much to Jack’s surprise, the dog barked or whined in response to Cait’s questions. He chuckled until he realized he was in way over his head. Could she be real? Did his scars only bother him? He needed Cait in his life, not just in his bed. All he had to do was convince her.

  Cait was watching him out of the corner of her eye.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You have a great laugh.”

  When he didn’t say anything, she nuzzled the top of Jamie’s head. “Has Sheriff Wallace heard from anyone yet?”

  “No,” Jack said with a glance at Jamie. “Looks like this guy is here to stay.”

  “Good,” Cait said.

  Jack echoed that sentiment. “I’m used to having him in my life…it would too quiet without him.”

  She agreed. “It’s become part of my routine, stopping by a few times a day to make sure he’s all right. He’s always ready with a happy bark and busy tongue.” They fell into a comfortable silence as he turned onto Peat Moss Road. “My dad really liked him.”

  He grinned. “What’s not to like?” He patted Jamie on the top of his head. “He’s a great dog.”

  “Are you both going to walk me to the door?”

  Jamie barked and Jack laughed. “Sorry, boy, not this time.” One at a time, they slipped out so Jamie didn’t escape. They walked hand in hand to the door and Jamie started to howl.

  Jack’s lips brushed gently against her cheek before capturing her lips in a silky-sweet kiss. “Dream of me, Caitlin.”

  She rested a hand on his chest as she eased out of his embrace and pushed away from him, feeling the chill after so much warmth. “I already do.” She squeezed his hand and added, “Miss me, OK?”

  Jamie’s entire body wagged as he leaned on the top edge of the passenger door and barked. Caitlin smiled. “Keep an eye on him for me, boy.”

  She watched them leave and, in a moment of painful insight, knew that the ache she felt now was not even one-tenth of the ache a military wife would feel watching her man as he prepared to deploy.

  Had Jack had someone all those years ago whom he hated to leave behind? Had he broken anyone’s heart here in town? She didn’t understand her need to find out but knew she’d be asking Meg. Her sister would know.

  Letting herself in, she shut off the light on the stove. Halfway to her room, she remembered they’d be getting an early start and walked to the bathroom instead. The hot water soothed tired muscles and a few aches that had her smiling, remembering how she’d earned them. Squeaky clean, wearing her favorite sleep shirt, she slipped beneath the covers. Lying in bed, she stared at her ceiling, glad that she never painted over the fluffy clouds and rainbows her mother had painted there years before. It made her feel closer to her mom. Meg liked to go to the cemetery to talk to their mom, and Grace, hmmm…she had no idea what Grace did to remember their mom.

  Shifting to her side, she wondered what Jack and Jamie were doing right then. Probably snuggling up in bed together. Maybe next time, we can make love in his bed.

  She closed her eyes as thoughts of Jack and his tender kisses filled her heart, giving her something lovely to think about as she drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  “Cait!” a deep voice called out, rousing her from a deep sleep. “Coffee’s
ready!”

  Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she wished for just five minutes more. “If I ask him, he’ll start the water treatment.”

  Then again, a few more precious minutes to dream about Jack might be worth having ice-cold water flicked in her face until she woke up, but that was guaranteed to make her dad grumpy. He was doing her a huge favor helping out at Johnson’s barn, so she dragged herself out of bed. She finger combed her hair, rebraided it, and got dressed.

  Her dad was at the stove frying bacon. He looked over his shoulder as she walked into the kitchen. “Hungry?”

  “Always.”

  Knowing his routine, Cait opened the fridge and got out four eggs, rye bread, and butter. “Scrambled OK?”

  He nodded. “Let me drain the pan. No sense having to wash two of them.”

  “Amen to that.” She cracked the eggs and whipped them with a fork. “Can you do the toast?”

  Her dad nodded. “Got it.”

  They worked well together, with an economy of movement that bespoke years of doing so. Plates full, coffee poured, they sat down to eat. Joe took a sip of his coffee and said, “Heard on the weather we’ve got a storm heading our way this afternoon. We need to get that addition framed out and shingled. I’d rather we didn’t have to toss another tarp onto the sheathing up on the roof. It’d be better if it had tar paper and shingles.”

  Cait finished her toast and gulped the last of her coffee as he added, “Expecting thirty mile an hour winds with this storm.”

  “Then we’d better hit the road, Pop.” Halfway there, she asked, “Are you really worried that we won’t beat the weather?”

  Her father parked in Johnson’s driveway and got out. “Less talking, more working, string bean.”

  “Jeez, Pop!” He hadn’t called her that in years, but as he’d intended, it felt like a hug so she wouldn’t worry about the coming storm.

  They’d pulled out their toolboxes and walked over to the tarped pile of wood by the time Mr. Johnson walked down from the house. “We’ve got weather coming, Joe.”

  “Not a problem, Scott. You’ve got my best girl working on it and me as her helper.”

  With a nod in her direction, Mr. Johnson said, “I’ll keep an ear out for a change in the report and let you know if I hear anything.”

  “Appreciate it,” Joe responded. He asked Cait, “Do you have your measurements?”

  “I do, but I’d like to double-check and jot the numbers down.”

  Her father grinned. “Measure twice, cut once—that’s my girl.”

  By the time they broke for lunch, they had framed out the two new stalls and were ready for the sheathing.

  “Hey, Joe!”

  Cait and her father looked up as Mr. Johnson came jogging toward them. “They’re calling for dangerous lightning and high winds by five o’clock.”

  “Well, Cait, it’s your project. What do you think we should do?”

  Cait looked up at the still-blue sky and then at the men standing side by side. “We could work through lunch, but we’ve been on the job since seven this morning. I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. We need to refuel and hydrate so we don’t make a mistake.”

  Her dad looked up at the sky and then over at Scott Johnson. “Why don’t I call my son-in-law and see if we can round up a few helpers? He should be getting out of school around two thirty.”

  Cait felt relief wash over her. She knew it would be close framing and sheathing before the storm hit; help would ensure that they’d get it shingled as well. “You can’t rush perfection,” she said to Mr. Johnson. “My dad’s got a good plan, and it won’t increase the price. Once a Mulcahy gives his word—” she began.

  “He keeps it,” Mr. Johnson finished for her, nodding to her first and her father second. “Go for it. I’ll keep an eye on the storm and bring you updates.”

  While she unpacked their lunch boxes, her father shot off a text to Dan. As she was pouring hot coffee out of the thermos, her father grunted and held out his cup. “He’ll be here by quarter of three with two helpers.”

  Cait grinned. “Let me guess, Charlie Doyle and Tommy Hawkins?”

  Her father held out a cup for her to fill. “Those boys have more than made up for their stupidity, hanging out on that damned railroad bridge.”

  “Dan was there to save them, Pop.”

  “It was meant, Cait,” he said quietly. “Dan Eagan was supposed to come to Apple Grove, meet your sister, fall in love, and save those two boys. Wonder what else fate has planned for him?”

  Cait laughed. “A little girl just like Meg?”

  Joe joined in the laughter and said, “You have an evil streak in you, Cait.”

  “I wonder where I get that from?”

  They were both laughing as Cait cleaned up the garbage and downed the rest of her coffee.

  Joe was still smiling as they measured and cut boards for the roof rafters. They were nailing them into place when they heard a car drive up.

  “Hey, Joe!” Dan called out as he got out of his car. “Brought help with me.”

  Cait watched the way her dad pulled Dan in for a bear hug and felt tears sting her eyes. She sensed he’d be as welcoming to Jack.

  “No time for lollygagging around, Caitlin,” her father rumbled. “Come on down here and help me get these boys started working.”

  She grinned. “Coming.” Climbing down the ladder, she looked up at her father. “How about if we break down into two teams?”

  He nodded. “Ever shingle a roof, Dan?”

  “Not yet. I figured I’d be learning how today.”

  “Good answer,” Cait said with a smile. “How about you boys?”

  Charlie grinned. “Helped Dad patch up the hole in the garage roof after uh…” His voice trailed off and he looked at his buddy.

  “What did you and Tommy do to put a hole in the roof?”

  Tommy grinned at her, and said, “It was the hammer throw.”

  Dan started laughing. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah,” Charlie told him. “We were in eighth grade and wanted to see if we could throw a hammer like on the track team.”

  “You do realize that they don’t actually throw a hammer, don’t you?” Dan asked.

  “Not at the time,” Tommy admitted.

  Joe was shaking his head. “Did you use a claw hammer?”

  “Nah,” Tommy said. “We got one of my dad’s sledge hammers.”

  “Brilliant.” Dan laughed.

  “We were pretty good,” Charlie said, “until Tommy got creative with a toss and the hammer ended up going through the roof.”

  Caitlin was chuckling when she told them, “All right, Dan, you and Pop can work on measuring and cutting the sheathing for the roof. If we start there, the boys and I can get it shingled while you do the sheathing for the walls.”

  “You got it.”

  As they worked, she was pleased to find out that Charlie and Tommy really did know how to shingle. She set them to work, starting with the tar paper. She’d learned the hard way as a kid that you shingled from the bottom to the top. Peggy’s dad had spent a lot of time muttering, watching Cait and Peggy tear the shingles off Peggy’s doghouse when they’d started from the peak and worked their way down. She and Peggy had been in seventh or eighth grade at the time.

  “Storm’s stalled,” Mr. Johnson called out above the din of two nine-pound hammers and two nail guns.

  Cait wiped the back of her arm over her forehead. The day had warmed up considerably by the time they’d gotten up on the roof. “I need some water. How about you boys?”

  Charlie looked at Tommy and frowned, asking, “No soda?”

  She grinned at them. “If you’re going to be working bent over, it’s not a good idea to drink soda until you’re done. How about I treat for root beer floats over at the diner when we
’re done?”

  “Cool…Coach Eagan is going to feed us pizza.”

  “Ah,” she said, smiling at her brother-in-law. “Mulcahys have always worked for food. Good call,” she told him.

  By the time the wind started picking up, Cait and her father were nailing shingles on the peak. “Just in time.”

  She looked up, surprised to see dark clouds boiling above them. “Wow, we’d better finish up, Pop. That sky looks mean.”

  “It’s not green, so that’s a good thing. I’m not a fan of twister weather.”

  “OK, boys,” Caitlin called down. “Let’s start putting away the tools, the storm’s almost here.”

  The guys had started on the siding but stopped and began to clean up at her command. By the time the first raindrops fell, their tools were stowed in the cab of the truck so they wouldn’t get wet, and the boys were safely tucked into Dan’s car.

  “I owe you guys,” Cait told them.

  “Yeah,” Charlie yelled from the passenger side, “meet us at the diner. I’m really thirsty.”

  “Me too,” Tommy said.

  Her father smiled down at her, “Let’s go tell Scott we’re done for the day.”

  Scott met them halfway down the path with an umbrella. “It’s gonna get nasty. Hey,” he said, looking at the new section of stalls they’d added. “You got the roof on.”

  “That was the plan. Tarps can leak if there’s enough wind.”

  “Chances are pretty good the weather will clear and we can come back tomorrow and put up the siding,” Cait told him.

  Her dad shook his head. “Let’s wait and see. We can call you in the morning after we see what the weather’s doing.”

  “Great job,” Scott said, holding his hand for Cait and then Joe to shake.

  “Talk to you tomorrow,” Joe promised.

  Climbing in the truck, Cait wished for a hot cup of coffee, not an ice cream float. Good thing they were headed to the Apple Grove Diner, where you could get either one from seven o’clock in the morning until eleven o’clock at night.

  Backing out of the driveway, her father said, “Those boys looked hungry.”