Builder's Reluctant Bride

by Stacey Weeks

  “William!” A crew member wearing a t-shirt with the logo from the television station pulled him aside. “Dude, what happened to your face?”

  “I’ll give you a minute.” Jenna stepped away to look closer at the repaired scratch.

  Her ears perked at the mention of her name. She caught William wildly gesturing at the crew member while sending strange little looks her way. She heard her name again. They were discussing her.

  She edged closer.

  “For the last time, I said no!” William hissed.

  “Come on, man. This is prime time gold.”

  “You have no business being here. I called Mr. Foxshire and already withdrew my proposal. I meant it.”

  “I have a new contract.” He pulled out a piece of folded paper and waved it in front of William. “All you have to do is sign it and the show is yours. He wants you and Jenna.”

  Her heart leapt in her chest. They wanted her to join William on the show? That meant he’d be able to save the farm and she’d be able to pay back the people Parker scammed.

  “He’s offering you twice the original salary and a signing bonus that’s more than enough to get the bank off your back. As soon as you sign it, I’ll start filming here tonight. What are you waiting for?”

  “I told him Jenna wasn’t part of the deal.” William pushed the papers away.

  Her blood turned to ice. The station wanted her, and William would rather lose the show than consider it?

  “You’ll never get another chance like this. You’re a fool, man. This is a once in a lifetime chance.” The crewman made a good case.

  “And it’s my life.”

  The crewman stuffed the contract back into his pocket and stalked toward his waiting crew. He made a quick wrap up motion with his hand. “We’re wasting our time here guys. Let’s go.” His men packed up their equipment and left.

  Jenna stepped out of the shadows. “How could you?”

  William jumped. “Jenna?”

  “You say saving the farm is important. You say family matters more than anything. You say that God will provide. How important is all that if you’re not willing to accept the help needed to do it?” Anger pulsated through her.

  “Jenna, you don’t understand—”

  “I understand perfectly. I know I messed up with the school floor. I know I messed up with the plumbing. But I can’t believe that you’d rather lose the farm than work with me. I told you that I’d do anything to make this right. Anything.” Her hand snaked up her throat and a choked cry escaped.

  “Jenna—”

  “How could you turn down the job that could save everything without even asking me? Without letting me help you? Is being around me really that unbearable?”

  ~*~

  She was gone. He dropped his chin to his chest and stifled the urge to cry. To do more than cry. To scream. To slam something. To break something. An urge to expel his pent up frustration surged through his exhausted body with an unrecognizable power.

  A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. He’d recognize his dad’s aftershave anywhere. He slumped in defeat. “She didn’t even give me the chance to explain.”

  “Explain what?”

  The hush in the room confirmed what he suspected. Everyone saw Jenna storm out of here. Everyone. She was probably halfway back to the city by now. Running from him and the hurt he caused her. Again.

  He wearily turned his worn out body into his father’s embrace. He wished he was still a little boy who believed Dad could fix everything with a hug.

  Dad gingerly cupped his chin, like he used to long ago. He rubbed a rough thumb gently over William’s wet and bruised cheeks. “You never told her the station wanted her as co-star, did you?”

  William forced his gritty, tired eyes to stay open. He couldn’t see straight, let alone explain all the emotions surging through his dog-tired body…and his face. He felt every heartbeat beat in his cheeks. Throbbing. Pounding. Never giving him a moment’s relief.

  And then Jenna’s diagnosis, this possible death sentence pronounced. And that crazy crew man waved a contract in his face and demanded, demanded a decision today. Right on the spot.

  “I started to tell her, but we got the call about the flood. I knew that if I told her while she felt guilty, that she would sign the contract. I knew I could manipulate her into giving me everything I thought I wanted. But, somewhere along the line, what I wanted changed. I don’t want her to work with me because she feels guilty. I don’t want guilt or fear to drive any of her decisions. I want whatever she wants.”

  “Don’t tell me, tell her.”

  “I can’t.” The broken sob that ripped through him hurt far more than his physical injuries. The volunteers respectfully scattered, leaving him alone with his dad.

  “You’re exhausted, William. You’re not thinking straight. None of what you said is a reason to turn down the show.” His dad pushed him out an arm’s length and looked right into his eyes. The way he used to when William was young and he was trying to decipher if William was telling the truth.

  William blinked. A long, slow blink. “A nurse came in and told Jenna that she tested positive for HTLV, a possible precursor to Leukemia.”

  Dad yanked him back into a rough embrace.

  William buried his face in his Dad’s shoulder and cried. He cried like he hadn’t cried since his brother died. He cried like he did at his mother’s funeral. He cried like he’d said good-bye to Jenna forever.

  His dad’s chest heaved a few times with a shuddering breath. “Does she know that you love her?”

  A surge of adrenaline snapped up William’s head.

  Dad’s sad smile failed to lighten the moment. “It’s written all over your face, William.”

  “How can I work with her everyday knowing she might die? How do I do that without falling more in love? How do I go through the motions wondering if today is the day it develops into cancer?”

  “Because it’s what’s best for her, because you love her. You do it because it is the right thing to do. Yes, it will save the farm and fulfill your promise to Paul. But more importantly, it will give Jenna something to live for. If your mother taught me anything it’s that every day is a gift, especially if you can spend it with the people you love, doing something you love.”

  William pushed out of his Dad’s hug and walked toward the newly restored stained-glass window.

  “I know I should have asked her about the show, Dad. I should have told her right away what they wanted. If I could do it over, I would. I messed up. I’m seeing double, my head is pounding, I can’t think straight, let alone make a good business decision. How could they expect me to sign a contract today? On the heels of everything that’s happened?”

  Dad chuckled. “They don’t know the details of today. Why don’t you ask for a day or two, a chance to discuss this with Jenna?”

  “Except I’ve burned both bridges tonight.”

  “Then I suggest you find another way.”

  13

  “I’m planning to list my house this week. If you can give me a bit more time, I’ll take the profits from that and pay down Paul’s debt on the farmland.”

  The bank manager frowned at William. “We’re not foreclosing.”

  “What do you mean you’re not foreclosing?” William’s pulsing leg picked up pace underneath the table that stretched between him and Luke. He pushed down the surge of hope that rushed through him. Could God be answering his prayers? Even after the mess he had made of things?

  He had tried to find Jenna after talking with his dad last night at the church, but she’d already left with Tucker and her cellphone kept going to voicemail. He’d phoned Tucker, who kindly but firmly said that his sister needed some space and that William should call back in the morning.

  He’d spent a sleepless night tossing and turning in his dad’s guest room, alternating between crying out to God for help and despairing over the hopeless state of things. He rose this morning deter
mined to power through this meeting with the bank and get to Tucker’s place ASAP.

  He wouldn’t give Jenna the chance to ignore him any longer. He had accepted the fact that the bank would foreclose. He had the papers they’d mailed him clutched in his hand to prove it. He’d accepted that he’d lost Paul’s farm. But, with God’s help, he wouldn’t lose Jenna, too.

  He white knuckled the official foreclosure documents and leaned across the table toward the bank manager. “I don’t understand.”

  Luke looked down at the papers sitting in the opened file folder, read a bit, and then looked back up. “Enough money has been paid against the debt that you have been brought out of foreclosure. You’re even ahead one payment. That means you have a bit more time to figure things out.” Luke smiled and leaned toward William. “Maybe that God of yours has been listening.”

  William’s mind spun. Had there been some mistake? He hadn’t made any payments. And neither had Linda, or his father. “Who made the payments?”

  Luke shuffled through the documents. “It doesn’t say here. There are only transfer numbers. Give me a minute and I’ll see what I can find out.” Luke tipped the folder closed and tucked it under his arm. He rolled back his plush leather chair and exited, leaving William alone to sort out his jumbled thoughts.

  He kneaded his taunt neck muscles. Maybe the television station did this to sweeten the deal. Last night was proof that they were determined to move ahead with the show. Mr. Foxshire wasn’t used to hearing the word “no.”

  He stifled a laugh. That had to be it. Wouldn’t it sour Foxshire’s grapes to learn that William would have happily signed the first offer if Jenna had been ready? He pulled out his phone to check for a missed text message or email, certain that a new offer complete with a farm payment signing bonus was waiting.

  Nothing. Foxshire didn’t seem the type to make such a grand gesture and not immediately claim the action. Especially since he had been so eager to sign William before some other station got wind of his and Jenna’s “co-star sizzle.”

  Luke returned without the folder and fell into his chair and rolled back into the position of power behind the great mahogany meeting table.

  “So?” William pressed.

  “It turns out your donor desires to remain anonymous.”

  “That makes no sense.” William scrunched his face, and then winced at the pain. He had forgone the pain medication so he could drive himself here this morning.

  “William, can I give you some advice?” Luke pressed his fingertips together and leaned back in his chair tilting it to an angle that looked comfortable.

  “Sure.” He half listened while he tried to figure out why Mr. Foxshire would do this but not take credit.

  “Just accept this for the gift it is. By the time you need to make your next payment on the farm, the church job will have paid out and you should be OK.” Luke snapped his chair upright and pulled himself toward the table. “Whoever is was, they just saved Paul’s farm.”

  Luke’s words hardly registered through William’s fog of disbelief. Who did that sort of thing? Who made that kind of gift and didn’t take credit for it? He held out his hand as he rose from his chair and gave Luke’s a firm shake. “Thanks.”

  Once outside, he yanked open his truck door and slid inside. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and slipped it into the dashboard holder so he could drive and talk hands-free. He punched in some numbers and hit speaker phone.

  “I’d like to speak to Jeff Foxshire, please.” His foot tapped against the floor. He jabbed at the radio dial and turned off the country melody then thrust his truck into gear and jerked it out of the parking spot.

  “Foxshire here.” Even over the phone the man oozed authority. If anyone had the gall to pull a stunt like this, it was him. Just remembering the way he’d earlier dangled saving the farm as bait sent disgust coursing through William’s body. This man thought everything and everyone was for sale. He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.

  “Hey, Mr. Foxshire. William Scott here. Look, I know I was a bit rough with your crew yesterday, I’m sorry. It was a bad day, and I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m on my way to see Jenna to discuss the contract, assuming the new offer still stands. So, if you made that payment on my farm hoping it would secure everything immediately, you’re wrong. I’ll talk with Jenna, but I can’t promise she’ll be interested.” He signalled and changed lanes, passing a car moving much to slow for the energy pulsating through his body.

  “William, I was going to call you in about an hour. Great to hear from you.”

  “I bet.” William chuckled with a smug certainty that he had figured the whole thing out.

  “There has been some sort of misunderstanding. I never made a farm payment. I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  Sudden doubt knocked the arrogance from William’s tone. If it wasn’t Foxshire, who was it? No one he knew had that kind of money lying around. “You didn’t make a payment?” He let off the gas pedal.

  “No.” He laughed. “That wasn’t us. We are a business, William. But we are not in the business of paying off our employees’ debts no matter how big of a hit we think the new show will be.”

  “What? Then who?” Something didn’t add up. If it wasn’t Foxshire, who was it?

  “I don’t know. But if I had to guess, maybe it was your new partner.”

  “Partner? What are you talking about?” William ground out.

  “You know, she asked me not to call you for another hour or so, but since you called me, I can’t be blamed for spilling the beans.”

  William pulled his truck off the road and onto the shoulder. He rammed it into park. He couldn’t focus on driving in the midst of all the conflicting thoughts ping-ponging through his brain.

  “Jenna faxed a signed contract to our office thirty minutes ago. She asked me not to call you for another, ah—” Foxshire paused. “—hour and fifteen minutes. Something about her wanting to be on her way before you learned about what she had done.”

  “Her way?” William cut in. “Where is she going?” And what had she done?

  “I never asked.” Jeff’s voice crackled over the line. “Honestly, I don’t really care as long as she’s back in time to start shooting scenes.”

  “Scenes?” William dumbly echoed, still trying to fit all the pieces together.

  “Yes, scenes. We liked your idea about rebuilding Linda’s farm house. The only thing left is for you to sign the contract.”

  William’s sputtered. He had no words. Absolutely no words.

  “William? Are you still there?”

  “Yeah.” He exhaled. “Just trying to process it all.”

  “Jenna assured me that once she signed the contract, I’d have no trouble convincing you. She said that she’d been the hold up all along. Don’t tell me she was wrong.”

  “No, no she’s right. I’m thrilled to start this project. Just totally taken off guard. Hey, can I call you back?”

  “Sure. I’m in the office all day.”

  William punched the disconnect button. Jenna signed the contract. But more importantly, if Jeff was right, she was taking off somewhere—and soon. He thrust the gear shift into drive and lurched back onto the highway. She wasn’t getting away that easily.

  He couldn’t believe how God had answered all his prayers.

  All but one.

  ~*~

  “Are you sure about this?” Tucker closed the trunk lid on Jenna’s luggage and turned to face her.

  “Yes, I’m sure.” Jenna straightened. She expected another lame attempt to convince her to stay, but instead he opened his arms wide. Her lower lip trembled, and she blinked back tears. She flung herself into his arms.

  “We’ve been over this a million times,” she spoke into his puffy down jacket, blinking rapidly against the fabric, hoping it would absorb her tears. “I have to go.” She pulled back and turned her head away, not wanting him to see the remaining wetness freezing on her che
eks.

  He shook his head in clear disagreement. “You don’t have to leave Bayview. You’re choosing to.”

  She broke eye contact and focused on the snow collecting at her feet.

  He softened his voice and bent sideways until he could meet her eyes. “And it’s wrong.”

  She flattened her hand against his chest and pushed him all the way back. “I need some time, Tucker. Time to process this disease and what it means. Time to think. Time to figure out what I really want to do with the rest of my life.”

  He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “But you’re coming back for the show, right?”

  She sighed and folded her arms across her midsection. Did he ever give up? “Yes. I faxed the contract this morning. So William and I will have to figure out a way to work together, despite him not trusting me anymore.”

  Tucker leaned against the car and cocked his head to one side. “Jenna are you sure you haven’t misread everything? Even if William is angry about the pipes, he’s not mad at you. And he wouldn’t want you to leave. Shouldn’t you at least clarify things before you go?”

  She shook her head.

  “Come on. You guys were hyped up on some strong emotion, not to mention the medication William had taken. That leaves a lot of room for error.”

  “Maybe. But there is no misunderstanding the way he pulled away from me. If it wasn’t about the pipes, then it was about my disease.” She gave him a pointed look and tightened her hold on herself. Then, she softened. Her big brother was a teddy bear at heart. She couldn’t speak sternly to him without feeling guilty.

  His breath puffed in front of his face. “Have you considered that maybe his response had more to do with him than you? Consider this from his point of view. He’s been dealt some hard blows in life.”

  She sighed again. She had to concede that it was more likely that William’s reaction was connected to the diagnosis than the pipes.

  “Give the guy a chance. Hang around for a bit longer. Hear him out. Let him explain. If you did, maybe you would feel differently.”

  She rose to her tiptoes and brushed a kiss across Tucker’s cheek, then opened her car door. She needed to get out of here before she changed her mind.