She took another glance out the window and drew in a quick breath when Brody pulled off his jacket. Just like the first day she’d seen him in the backyard, his muscles strained against his thin t-shirt, but this time she wasn’t put off by his shaggy hair, beard, and boots. This time warmth ooze in places it hadn’t in a while. She watched his long-legged stride back and forth to the truck, his strong thighs shifting beneath the faded denim. As he leaned over the bed of the truck, his shirt tail rose and she got a quick glimpse of his flat stomach. She had the urge to swallow. No way could she work with him outside. She gathered her jacket, purse, and keys, and decided now would be a good time to visit her grandmother.
She gave a quick wave to him as she backed out of the drive and yawned deeply. She realized she’d been up since six, plugging away at the brief she’d promised to have to Patrick by the end of the week. Cravings for another vanilla latte from Sit and Sip nagged at her taste buds, but she wasn’t sure she’d have the nerve to go in there again. Brody had made it perfectly clear her behavior was unacceptable to the Highland Springs coffee crowd. She wasn’t exactly sure why she’d gone off on the meek little cashier. Even for Kate, she’d been too brash. The only thing she could blame her behavior on was the small-minded committee.
Her stomach let out a roaring growl and she did a U-turn in the intersection. It was one o’clock and she hadn’t eaten all day. She wanted a sandwich and a latte from Sit and Sip. If she had to live in this town for the next few weeks, she’d have to play their game.
As soon as Kate entered Sit and Sip, the comforting aroma of brewed coffee and freshly baked bread buoyed her resolve. She glanced around the café, noticing nearly every table filled, except for the corner table she’d occupied yesterday. With a little luck, it would still be open after she placed her order. As she approached the counter, the same cashier—Brittany, wasn’t it?—stood behind the register, but instead of fear or anger, Kate received a hearty welcome.
“Hello again. We have caramel back in stock. Want a macchiato?”
“That would be great. Thank you. And a turkey on ciabatta. Please.” Kate gave the cashier a sheepish smile while she dropped a five in the tip jar. Brody’s advice might carry her further than she suspected after all.
EIGHT
Images flickered across the TV screen: a woman cooking pasta, fourth down in a football game, a commercial for motor oil, a man and woman locked in a romantic kiss. Kate hit the off button and threw the remote on the sofa. There wasn’t one thing worth watching on TV and she was going to go stir crazy if she didn’t find something to do. She grabbed her phone off the sofa and scrolled through her emails and text messages. There was a legal memo due tomorrow and Patrick was expecting jury instructions by the end of the week, but she just couldn’t concentrate.
It was Thursday night—the night she usually spent drinking beer and playing trivia with her friends back in DC. She’d had a good visit with Gram that afternoon and since coming home from the rehab center, she’d done a half load of laundry, vacuumed the living room, and cleaned out the refrigerator—anything but work. She was turning into Annie. She tossed her cell phone on the coffee table and puffed out a loud sigh.
The mantel was flanked by bookcases brimming with paperbacks on the upper shelves and photo albums stored along the bottom. She had been tempted many times to pull out an album and take a look. Although she should be working, she couldn’t resist any longer. She gathered three albums into her arms and dropped back onto the couch, spreading the first book open across her knees. A black and white photo of a handsome boy going for a lay-up covered the first page—her dad at maybe age sixteen, probably before he met her mom. Flipping through his high school album, she learned her dad was on the winning state baseball team his junior year, and was awarded Athlete of the Year when he was a senior. Page after page of Johnny McNamara’s accomplishments filled the book. On the last three pages were pictures of him fishing with a buddy on the river, standing in front of an ice cream shop downtown, and sitting in his old Chevelle with his arm around her mom, beaming proudly. Kate wished she could have known her parents back then. The one thing she knew for sure after looking through the albums is how happy he looked.
She tossed the albums aside and raked her fingers painfully through her hair. More than likely, her dad’s success hadn’t come naturally, but had been nurtured through practice and hard work—a model she always tried to follow. She flipped open her laptop, determined to finish that brief, but instead stared blankly at the screen. An image of Brody materialized and she wondered what he’d been like as a teen. Once again, he invaded her thoughts.
“I need some air,” she muttered, and once more shoved her laptop aside.
She stepped onto the front porch and took in a deep lungful of cold autumn air, only giving a quick glance to the lumber stacked in the yard. She looked up at the bare trees, noticing every last leaf had fallen. Before long there would be a foot of snow. She glanced next door to Riley’s and could see her standing at the kitchen window, probably washing dishes. Kate scurried back inside, threw on a jacket, and grabbed a bottle of white wine out of the refrigerator on her way out the back door. Riley answered after the first steady knock.
“Hey, Kate.” Riley stood back and let Kate enter the small kitchen, similar in appearance to Gram’s: white painted cabinets, blue vinyl flooring, white appliances.
“I’m bored and hoped you might want to join me for a glass of wine.”
“Sure. Sounds great.” Throwing open the cabinet over the sink, Riley reached up on her tiptoes and brought down two stemmed glasses. “I better rinse these off. I haven’t used them in a while.”
“I hope you don’t mind my barging in on you. I saw you in the window.”
“No, not a problem. I got home from work about an hour ago and would love a glass of wine. It was crazy busy today. Lots of funerals for some reason.”
“When it rains it pours?”
“I don’t think that applies to dying, does it? I hope not.” Riley dried the glasses with a thin towel and retrieved a bottle opener from the drawer. “Let’s go in the living room.”
Kate took in the sparse furnishings in Riley’s house, so unlike her grandmother’s, which was cluttered with pictures and mementos on every table. Riley’s house looked like she had just moved in and wasn’t planning on staying. They sat on one of only three pieces of furniture in the room—a tan sofa—and propped their feet on a wide ottoman. The room was illuminated by a lonely lamp on a single end table.
“Ahh, I’m beat.” Riley crossed her feet at the ankles and rested her head against the back of the couch.
They sat in silence for several minutes, sipping wine and relaxing in the soft lamplight. Kate had tried all afternoon to get Brody out of her head, but for some odd reason, she couldn’t. She kept picturing his tight t-shirt from this morning, his thick muscles as he lifted the lumber, and she’d feel warm all over. Thinking about him made her head spin, but then again, everything about him made her head spin.
“How well do you know Brody Fisk?” Kate asked before taking a long sip of wine.
“Not very well. I met him a few months ago at the Memorial Day picnic. Liza introduced us.” Riley sat her half-empty glass on the end table and turned toward Kate, propping her knee on the sofa between them. “And I talked to him for a while when Liza had an art show up in Morgantown. Other than that night at the Brass Rail, I hardly ever see him around. Why?”
“I don’t know. He’s such an enigma. He comes off as a quiet, unassuming country boy, but then he—” Kate leaped to her feet and paced a circle around the sofa and ottoman, reciting her thoughts as if she were rehearsing opening arguments. “What does the guy even do? I know he’s a lumberjack, bringing free wood to old ladies. He drives that crappy truck but then he shows up at the meeting this week driving a Cadillac or a Lincoln or something, dressed in a tailored jacket and really nice jeans and looking nothing like the scruffy guy I first met. How can he affo
rd that on a lumberjack’s salary? Maybe he makes enough with his building business. He’s putting up a ramp on Gram’s house, you know.” She stopped her trek long enough to refill her glass. With a nod of encouragement from Riley, she continued. “At the Brass Rail he was cleaned up, looking like, well, nothing like himself, and was actually fun until he tricked me into thinking he was married. I didn’t think it was funny at all. Then on Monday after the meeting, he got all self-righteous in the coffee shop.”
“What do you mean?”
She came out of her hypnotic rant and looked at Riley, sitting on the edge of the sofa. “He pointed out I should be kinder to the locals.”
“It is a small town.” Riley stood up, shook the empty wine bottle, and padded toward the kitchen, where she dropped the bottle in the trash and retrieved another one from the refrigerator. The cork popped with a loud thwonk and she returned to the living room to fill up Kate’s empty glass.
“Is he seeing anyone?” Kate didn’t want Riley to get the wrong idea, but she was curious.
“No, I don’t think so. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
“I think if he were in a relationship, Liza would have told me.”
“Oh, the town busybody, is she?”
“No, she’s his sister.”
“Liza is Brody’s sister?” Kate felt shockwaves from head to toe. That cute little pink-haired pixie was the lumberjack’s sister? They looked nothing alike. Liza was short, thin, a bundle of energy. Brody was tall and laid-back, with soft, sandy hair; bulging biceps; thick, broad shoulders…
“Kate.” Riley shook Kate out of her reverie. “I thought you knew that. Liza is Brody’s younger sister. She lives in a little house on their farm. He’s in business with Tucker. They own Misty Mountain Brewery. I think she would have told me if he was dating anyone.”
“So, he’s a lumberjack, carpenter, and brewmaster?”
“And a songwriter. That’s his real career.”
“What?” The wineglass nearly slipped out of her hand and she felt lightheaded. The surprises just kept coming. “He’s a songwriter?”
“I told you at the bar. Liza’s brother had a big songwriting career in Nashville and New York.”
She downed the last of her wine, wiped her damp palms on her jeans, and dropped onto the sofa, feeling the effects of too much wine too quickly. The mystery known as Brody Fisk just kept getting more interesting. Time to go home. If she wasn’t going to use her finely-honed research skills to use for the law firm, at the very least she could dig up some answers about Highland Springs’ most enigmatic bachelor.
The next day, Kate jumped at the sound of Brody’s voice and caught her toe on the leg of her grandmother’s walker, sending it clattering to the tile floor. She reached down to pick it up, her face feeling flushed with embarrassment, and righted the contraption along with her composure.
“Brody, what are you doing here?”
“I was just—” He reached over and aligned the walker directly in front of Virginia. “Coming back from Clarksburg and thought I’d stop in. I hope it’s okay.”
“Absolutely, honey. Pull up a chair.” Virginia waved her hand toward the folded chair in the corner. Kate watched him open it and sit back, resting his ankle on his knee. Last night she’d done some research and discovered Brody was quite an accomplished artist, even earning a few awards. The numerous images of him at concerts, awards shows, and interviews portrayed a much different man from the one sitting in front of her now. Sure, he’d always worn his hair a little longer, but he looked more youthful in the photos, more vibrant. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but if she had to guess, there was a story behind the lines and shadows on his face. Her mind spun with possibilities as Brody and Gram carried on a lengthy conversation.
“You should go with him, honey.” Gram’s quick tap on her shoulder drew her back into the conversation.
“Where?”
“I’m stopping at the community center building on the way back, to check on the renovations.”
Gram’s eyes lit up. “Katherine, why don’t you go? He can show you around.”
“I’m not sure she’d want to—”
“Sure she would. She went to the board meeting, so she should see what the center is all about. Right, honey?” Virginia leaned over to pat Kate’s knee then winced in pain.
“Gram, are you okay?”
“My leg is aching me, that’s all. They really worked me hard in rehab today. Had me trussed up in a leather belt with a leash on the back. I think she thought she was taking a dog out for a walk.” Though she let out a hearty laugh, Kate could still see the pain in her eyes.
“I’ll go find the nurse. You need some pain meds.”
“Now, honey, don’t bother them. They’ll be around with my medicine in a little while.”
“No Gram.” Kate planted her hands on the arms of her grandmother’s wheelchair and gave her a paralyzing look. “You’re in pain and I’m going to get something for it. No arguments.”
Kate marched out of the room, shoulders squared and determination in her eyes. I’m glad I’m not a nurse around here, Brody thought to himself. He glanced at Gram and caught a mischievous look on her face.
“Don’t worry, she’s all bark and no bite,” Virginia said.
“You sure about that?” He chuckled and dropped back into the chair in front of Virginia. There was one thing for sure: Kate McNamara didn’t waste any time getting what she wanted. It had been a long time since he had felt that sense of urgency.
“I’m sure. Under that prickly exterior is a heart of gold.”
“Hmm, maybe when it comes to you.”
“Mark my words, in time you’ll see there’s more to my Katherine than just a pretty face and a wicked tongue.”
No sooner had Gram uttered the words than Kate returned with a pill-toting nurse who efficiently administered Virginia’s medication. As soon as she was gone, Kate picked up her coat where it had been strewn across the bed.
“Okay, then. I guess I’ll go with Brody to the community center. There was a discussion about liability at the meeting.” She cocked a wry grin at him before turning back to her grandmother. “Maybe if I see the building for myself I’ll be able to make some recommendations.”
“Oh, that’s a lovely idea.” Gram clasped her hands to her chest and beamed joyfully. “Take some pictures, will you?”
“Sure.”
“You all together…working on this project. It’s just wonderful.”
“We’re just checking out the building, Gram. Nothing more.”
Gram winked at Brody and gave Kate’s elbow a quick squeeze. “Whatever you say, honey.”
NINE
Ten minutes after they left the rehabilitation facility, Kate pulled the Buick beside Brody’s SUV in the old elementary school parking lot and they met one another on the sidewalk.
“So, this is the future community center, huh? This was an elementary school?” She walked into the yard to look in a window and her spiked heels sank into the damp soil. “Damn it.”
“You might want to invest in a pair of sensible shoes.”
“Sensible?” She tiptoed back to the sidewalk. “Like what Gram wears?”
He chuckled and extended his arm, urging her toward the entry door. “I’m just saying, you’ll need something with a flat sole, preferably waterproof, something good in snow and rain.”
“I don’t plan on being here once the snow starts.”
“That could be any day. Come on, let me show you around.” He pulled out a ring loaded down with dozens of keys of varying shapes and colors, and shuffled through the pile until he found the key he thought would open the front door. When that one didn’t work, he searched again, and finally found the right fit.
As they stepped inside, he smelled the dank mustiness of the aging, closed-up building. The first warm day, they needed to open all the windows and give it a good airing out.
“Right down the hall here is th
e gym.” He opened one of the double doors and led Kate inside. “You can see the floor is in good shape, but needs refinished, and there’s a set of working bleachers along that wall.” He took a deep breath, drawing in the familiar gym smell of his childhood. He had played recreational league basketball here from the time he was in second grade until he left middle school, moving on to the high school team. “We’ll have all our sports activities in here.”
He took her from room to room, guiding her around lumber and paint cans, explaining some of the programs they planned to hold in each space once renovations were complete. She said very little, only occasionally asked a question, but seemed interested. The last room they entered was the old cafeteria.
“We were thinking about offering cooking classes since the kitchen is still fully equipped, but as you can see the tile floor needs replaced.”
“What about renting it out for parties? They would have access to the kitchen for storing and preparing food, and have this big room for their event.”
“That’s a great idea. Good way to bring in more revenue.”
“I can see a lot of potential for this building beyond just the current programs.”
“You want to put some ideas together for the board to review?”
“Do you think they’d be open to any of them?”
“They’re not that narrow-minded, believe me. Plus, anything that brings in money will be welcome.” He guided her toward the kitchen. “We’re most excited about the kitchen because we can hold the annual Thanksgiving dinner here. We’ve held it at different churches each year and now it will be held in one place.”
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