Builder's Reluctant Bride

by Stacey Weeks

  “Actually, I came to drop off another album from Mrs. Fenwick. It slid under my seat and we missed it the other day.”

  Sarah’s shoulders drooped.

  “Oh, thanks.” Linda accepted the offered album with trembling hands. “I’m so thankful these weren’t lost.” Her fingers stroked the cloth cover.

  Jenna nodded, suddenly feeling benevolent toward the woman who once hurt her but had lost so much. “I, ah, maybe I could use a trim, if you have time.”

  Whoa, where had that come from? Linda’s presence, her beautiful presence to be exact, left her feeling unworthy and second class—much like she did back in high school. Why on earth would she put herself into this woman’s hands again?

  “Sure, come on back to the sink.” Linda grabbed a starched, white lab coat from the rack by the door and pulled it over her clothes. She filled her pockets with all kinds of hair goodies. The lower pockets held clips, bobby pins, and other assorted hair accessories. The upper pocket housed her thinning shears, a razor, and scissors.

  She turned to Sarah, “Can you rinse Gertrude in three minutes? Then, we’ll trade and I’ll apply Gertrude’s neutralizer.”

  “Got it.” Sarah perked-up under her new responsibilities.

  Jenna followed Linda to the wash station. Her sluggish feet dragged in high contrast to her racing mind. What would they talk about? Should she talk first? Should she mention Mrs. Fenwick’s matchmaking scheme?

  Linda reclined Jenna’s chair against the sink and placed a cool compress over her eyes. A small sigh escaped Jenna’s lips before she could contain it.

  “That’s nice isn’t it?” Linda fiddled with the knobs by Jenna’s head adjusting the water temperature.

  “Hummm,” Jenna murmured. Despite her misgivings surrounding Linda, her tense body relaxed as warm water trickled through her hair. Maybe a haircut by Linda wouldn’t be too bad. Linda gave a good scrub and a wonderful scalp massage, and the warmth of her hands felt great. Jenna’s tension slipped away.

  “This is my favorite song,” Linda called attention to the soft melody filling the room.

  Now that Linda pointed it out, the lyrics registered. They sang of the redemption, forgiveness, and grace found only in Jesus Christ.

  Jenna stiffened. Life was far more complicated than the artist implied. When God had let her down, it changed her. But what if William was right? What if God didn’t cause her abuse and miscarriage? What if God had tried to comfort her, but she’d lumped Him in with all the bad? What if the distance between her and God was her fault, not God’s?

  She peeked at Linda. How did she do it? How did she deal with life as a single mom and end up with a stronger faith?

  The question rolled through Jenna’s mind, and an unwelcome thought burst in with all the gentleness of a loose squirrel in a tea shop. Linda had handled life’s hardships by leaning on God. She exhibited admirable qualities. Forgiving, steady, and calm.

  Jenna radiated none of those virtues.

  “So what would you like?” Linda wrapped Jenna’s head in a thick, heavy towel and guided her back to her workstation oblivious to Jenna’s turmoil. She met Jenna’s eyes in the mirror.

  What did she want? Proof that William and Linda had changed. The last ten years back. None of her preferred answers involved a wash, cut, and style.

  “Maybe a couple inches?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she could have eaten them. She should have just asked for a style. She could redo a style at home if she hated it. A trim would take weeks to grow out. Her haste gave Linda control—again.

  “OK.” Linda’s fingers methodically worked through Jenna’s hair. Then she switched modes and began raising vertical sections of hair, giving the ends a clean edge with her sharp blades. “Have you ever thought of thinning it out a bit to add some texture?”

  “What does that mean?” Already regretting the trim, Jenna did not want to lose complete control. Then, the irony of her thoughts struck her as silly. She stifled a giggle. She had lost control ages ago. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t be getting a haircut she didn’t want, from a woman she didn’t trust, in the town she didn’t want to be in.

  “I would use these special scissors. See how these have teeth?” Linda traded the silver shears in her hands for the black-handled blades in her breast pocket. She showed them to Jenna. The funny scissors had a blade on one side and a comb on the other.

  “Why do they look like that?” Jenna asked. How was she going to weasel out of this?

  “That’s so they only cut some of the hair. It adds some shorter pieces among the longer ones to give a little lift.”

  Jenna hesitated.

  “Maybe another time.” Linda put the shears back in her front pocket.

  “Come on, Jenna. Give it a try. Throw caution to the wind,” Becky called from her perch in the waiting area.

  Jenna didn’t want to throw caution; she wanted to throw a dark glance back at her sister-in-law. However, with Linda servicing her, holy music permeating the room, and confusion about William circulating, she gave in. She simply did not have the energy to challenge them both.

  “Fine, go ahead,” she said.

  Linda smiled. She pulled her sheers from her pocket just as a timer sounded. She sighed, setting her scissors on a dark towel lying on the work station. “I need to see to Gertrude. I’ll have Sarah come and add the texture. I’ll be back in time to do the blowout.”

  Sarah bounced over, far too eager for Jenna’s liking. “Hi, Jenna. It’s nice to meet you,” she chirped.

  Jenna fought a rising panic. The girl couldn’t be more than a teenager. Hardly old enough to cut hair. “How long have you been working here?”

  Sarah met Jenna’s eyes in the mirror. “I’ve completed my training, so I’m perfectly qualified. I’m apprenticing under Linda. She is a fantastic mentor.”

  Great. An apprentice. Would it be rude to change her mind about the cut?

  Sarah sectioned off a vertical slice of hair near the crown, picked up the blades, closed them about five inches from the scalp, and gasped.

  Jenna’s stomach dropped. She did not need to look down to confirm the disaster. Small trims were soundless and this mass landed with a soft thud. She reached a trembling hand behind her head and felt a tuft of hair much shorter than the other strands.

  “What did you do?” She ripped off her cape. She fumbled for a mirror and cranked her neck to see the back. Her single sharp intake of oxygen filled the room. She couldn’t take a breath deep enough to support her.

  “I’m sorry. I grabbed the wrong pair.” Sarah cowered under Jenna’s vibrating anger. Sarah’s eyes filled with tears as she fumbled her words. She reached a trembling hand to the salon station and steadied herself. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry? You’ve ruined my hair!” Each word came out one decibel louder and higher than the word before.

  “What’s going on?” Linda cut in to survey the damage. “Oh.”

  Jenna could not tear her gaze away from her frightful hairdo. “I should have never come here!”

  Jenna stormed across the room and yanked her jacket from its hook precariously rocking the wooden coat tree from side to side. Jenna fumbled to connect her jacket buttons over the fluffy white towel and neck strip.

  Linda slipped a protective arm around Sarah’s shoulder, who looked as if her knees might buckle at any moment. “Jenna, Sarah didn’t mean it. She grabbed the wrong pair. She’s never made this kind of mistake before.”

  Jenna drew back. Of course Linda sided with Sarah.

  “Jenna, I will do whatever it takes to fix it. Sarah’s just an apprentice. I’m responsible for her. You can have free styles until it grows out, anything. I’m so sorry,” said Linda.

  “Are you serious? I’m never letting you, or any of your apprentices, near my hair again.” Jenna’s index finger quivered as she shook it in Linda’s face.

  Jenna stomped out of the salon, towel and all. The front windows shook as she slammed the doo
r behind her. She had no doubt. Linda had set her up. Linda had something up her sleeve.

  If Parker taught her anything, it’s that people don’t change. Not him. Not Linda. And maybe not William, either.

  10

  William stared into the camera lens and smiled his most winsome smile. “As you can see, the heritage home that once stood here was destroyed by fire. We’ll walk you through a quality rebuild that will hold all the charm of yesterday along with the modern convenience of today. The result? A beautiful and functional home from top to bottom, inside and out.”

  “Perfect.” The director motioned to the cameraman. “We got it in just one take. You’re a pro.”

  “Thanks.” William didn’t feel like a pro. He felt like a heel. He’d let Jenna believe the show was moving ahead with no catches, and he’d let Mr. Foxshire believe Jenna’s signature was on its way.

  He yanked off his hat and roughed up his hair. What started as a tiny omission now felt like a flat-out lie. He needed to fix this. Fast. Especially since Jenna was heading back to her syndicated column in a few short weeks.

  The director chattered away to the cameraman unaware of the chaos spinning through William’s mind. He turned back to William. “When you mention the destroyed home, we’ll flash some still pictures of it before the fire. And when you mention the quality rebuild we’ll flash some of the after shots that we’ll get as the project moves along.”

  “Sounds great.” If it actually happens. “Do you need anything else from me?” William tugged his knit cap back over his head and rubbed his hands together to generate heat. He knew what they needed from him…Jenna. They loved his idea for season one, but not enough to cut Jenna loose.

  “We should get some shots of Jenna soon, is she around?”

  “Ah.” William considered how that awkward conversation would go. Hey Jenna, can we get some pictures of you in front of Linda’s property? By the way, you’ll need to give up your dreams and life in the city and move to Bayview so I can keep my promise to Paul.

  Yeah, right.

  He didn’t just need to convince her to co-star. He needed to ask her to co-star. Really ask her. Not jokingly, like last time, but in a serious conversation. He fingered her phone, still tucked inside his pocket since taking the message from her editor. He also needed to tell her that her column was getting syndicated, but how could he do that when it would take her away from Bayview? Away from him?

  A sedan skidded to a halt in front of the property, pulling the director’s prying eyes off of William. His relief was short-lived.

  William followed the director’s gaze and choked on the sight of Jenna climbing out of her car and clomping toward them. She substituted her usual grace with jerky awkward movements. William swung his head from the director and back to Jenna as she stirred up the dusty snow with each stomp. What if the director asked to shoot her film now? This was not good. Not good at all.

  Jenna charged at him shaking her pointed finger. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be at the church. We’ll never make our deadline if you keep goofing off!” Her fisted hands rested on her hips and wetness gleamed in her eyes.

  He held out his arms in front of himself in surrender. “I’m not goofing off. I needed to meet with the film crew about the show. Remember? It was your idea.” He squinted, cocking his head to the side. Something looked off about how she held herself. Way off.

  Her lips pursed. If she were a cartoon, he’d expect steam to billow out of her ears at any moment. Something was wrong, and he bet it had something to do with her stopover at Linda’s.

  “Maybe you should focus on our current job instead of the next one.” She turned her face away.

  She was upset because he wasn’t working at the church? But this was her idea! He forced back his irritation as the cameraman quietly flicked the camera’s ON switch and pointed the lens at them. The flashing red light cautioned William to choose his words carefully. “Jenna, when I pitched your idea about rebuilding Linda’s house. They liked it. We came here to film some before shots before it snows anymore and buries the rubble.”

  “So glad you could help your friend.”

  A small tuft of hair on Jenna’s crown caught in the breeze and stood to attention. He reached over to lay it flat, knowing it would horrify Jenna to have it caught on film. As he stretched out his hand, she yanked herself out of his reach, leaving him to swat at empty air.

  “New hairdo?” He chuckled as the wind caught the tuft of hair and lifted it again.

  “Yes, it’s new. Your friend did this.”

  “My friend?”

  “Funny, very funny, William. Act dumb all you want. I’m through.” Jenna spun around and nearly head butted him. He got an up close and personal view of her chopped up hair. “This is Linda’s fault.” Tears spilled down both her cheeks.

  He lifted his hand to touch her hair and she flinched away. “It’s not that bad.”

  Jenna glared at him.

  “I’m sure she didn’t do it on purpose.” The wind tugged on it again and it waved atop Jenna’s head like a flag. William grinned before he could hold it back.

  “This is worse than what you did in high school.” Her voice deepened to a hoarse whisper. “I can’t believe you’re still laughing with her at me.”

  William sobered up and lost the grin. She felt set-up? “Jenna, people get bad haircuts all the time. I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing with you.”

  “I’m not laughing, William.” She back-gloved her tears and turned her face away.

  He reached out and gently touched both shoulders and slowly turned her around. He wiped the remaining icy tear that trailed down her cheek with his thumb. “Maybe you should laugh. This definitely qualifies as a laugh or cry situation. Why cry if you can laugh?”

  Jenna stiffened and sniffled. “Did you and Linda cook this up together?”

  He dropped his hands and stuffed them into his pockets. She still thought they were teaming up against her. Was the camera still rolling? What were the chances the cameraman developed a conscience and decided to respect this private moment? Fat chance. The red light mockingly blinked.

  “Jenna, I told you, we are rebuilding her house. Besides, she is family. My family. Whether you like it or not, that is never going to change.”

  The tips of her ears reddened.

  “Jenna, please, let me explain.” He shifted his body between her and the camera. “It’s in the early planning stages now. There are still some details left to hammer out, but I’m hopeful everything will fall into place.”

  He needed to get her alone and explain everything before the crew let something slip. If he could just get that cameraman to turn off the camera and give them some privacy, maybe it would be OK. “Jenna, I know it’s hard for you, but please. Trust me. Linda is not the same girl who once hurt you. This,”—he gestured to her hair—“has to be a mistake. I can’t believe Linda did this on purpose.”

  “Actually she didn’t,” Jenna admitted, “not really. It was Sarah, her apprentice. But Linda is responsible for her staff. It just proves that not everyone is trustworthy,” she whispered. She gazed into the sky now dripping with fluffy moisture.

  “But I am.” William closed the space between them and did something he had longed to do since the fall festival. He cupped her chin in his hand. He rubbed his thumb over her trembling lower lip, loving how the silver white flakes clung to her eyelashes for a heartbeat before melting.

  Jenna sucked in a breath.

  Her simple response turned him inside out. She affected him more than any woman he could remember.

  “That was amazing!” The director clapped his gloved hands together and William groaned. Not now.

  “That’s what sells television.” The director turned to the cameraman. “Did you get it all? I was worried about this angle here, when he turned her away. Should we try another angle?”

  Jenna pulled herself back and looked up into William’s eyes. “What are they talking
about?”

  Before William could answer the director cut in. “Your on-screen chemistry is smokin’ hot lady. You’re a great team. This is gonna be great.”

  “William?” She stepped out of his arms and cold air swept between them. He shivered from both the cold and how Jenna’s wide disbelieving eyes searched his face for answers he didn’t have. At least not satisfying answers.

  “Were we filmed? Just now? Did you plan this?” With every word uttered, she stepped further away from him while frantically scanning the scene.

  “Jenna—” He reached out.

  She turned and stalked toward her car, dismissing him without a word. Without a chance to explain.

  “Jenna, would you just let me—Jenna!” Was she leaving the property, or Bayview? Would she take off and hide like she did in high school, or did she simply need to cool down? He couldn’t let her leave like this.

  He reached her in five long strides and snagged her upper arm, spinning her around. Her expressionless, wet eyes cut him to the core. Her mouth hung slack and she looked down at his fingers still gripping her arm. She slowly raised a chalk-white face to his.

  He dropped his hand and stepped back. What had he done?

  “I need to be alone right now,” she croaked.

  How could he be so stupid?

  ~*~

  Jenna couldn’t stop her shaking limbs. She tugged her jacket flaps closed against the gusty wind and ugly memories. William’s footsteps pounded after her as he called her name. She slid into her sedan and drove away.

  Her neck and shoulder muscles screamed. She loosened her grip on the steering wheel. William was not Parker. She swerved into the church parking lot and stared at her clenched fists as she rammed her car into park. At least her violent shaking had subdued into mild tremors.

  She barged through the church doors and stomped up the stairs. She banged around the sanctuary loud enough that the work crew took her cue and began packing up for the day. She pushed an upholstered chair in need of a new look down the center aisle. The men, who couldn’t seem to pack fast enough, gave her a wide berth. She ignored their curious glances and raised eyebrows.