Irked, he watched her send Mikey carefully over the bowed fence. She dismounted on the road side, leaving Gina in the saddle, calling after Mikey to watch out for the temperamental bull.
Anna had leather gloves to protect her hands as she straightened a fallen post made out of weathered wood and tugged the fence back into place.
Meanwhile, Mikey rounded the cows and came up behind them on the far side, furthest from Kelly's truck, clucking and talking to them.
If they were moving them toward the red gate just up the pasture a bit, Kelly could help. He took off his ball cap and walked up to the nearest animal, holding both arms wide and waving the cap. "Hooey!" he called to it. "Move along."
Anna had re-mounted and was crossing behind him on her horse, and he distinctly heard a feminine giggle.
He glanced over his shoulder and, sure enough, her lips were twitching. Her cowgirl hat shielded her eyes, but he imagined them dancing. At his expense.
Gina, clinging to her mom's waist, wasn't hiding her giggles at all.
Anna cleared her throat. "What're you doing?"
"Helping. I guess I'm doing it wrong?"
She didn't confirm it, but her twitching lips were enough.
"Where'd you learn that, city boy?"
"TV, I guess." He let his arms fall to his sides and backed toward his truck as Anna and Mikey pushed the cows up the road.
"I'll meet you at the house," she said, and left him behind.
He stood next to his truck, feeling distinctly unnecessary. About a quarter mile up the road, Mikey jumped off his horse and opened the red gate, and Anna hustled the cows through.
He climbed into the truck and drove slowly toward them, not wanting to scare the horses.
With his window still down, he leaned out over his elbow. "You want me to fix the fence? I can run to town and get a post." And something to set it with. He hadn't fixed this type of fence before, but he'd wouldn't admit that to her.
"I'll handle it," she said over her shoulder.
And what he heard was, I don't need you.
His chest burned against the sting of her words, but he shrugged and put on an easy smile. If she wanted to keep him in the kitchen, that's where he'd stay.
He waited to make sure she'd gone through the gate and was back on her horse before he drove up the dirt road and turned into the long drive that would lead to her farmhouse.
Then he sat in his truck for long minutes, praying and breathing.
* * *
Anna met Kelly at the back porch. With the morning sun at his back haloing his brown curls, she was hit with a bolt of attraction and a sense of déjà vu so strong she lost her breath. His T-shirt defined his shoulders and pecs, and his jeans were worn in all the right places.
She averted her eyes, focusing instead on his dusty work truck. The barn. The fields beyond. This was her world.
But as he neared, she could smell soap and man, and the ball of fire in her gut sharpened her tone. "What do you need from me?"
"How about a good morning?"
His unhurried, warm drawl brought her head up, but when she would've snapped at him, Mikey ran onto the porch, his boots thudding against the wood planks.
"Mr. Kelly!"
He plowed right into Kelly's gut, a full-force hug that had the man stepping back once for his balance.
Kelly's expression showed surprise before he looked down. His hand hovered above Mikey's head before he ruffled Mikey's hair. Almost as if he weren't sure of his welcome.
When he looked back up at Anna, his eyes burned.
And she swallowed back the harsh words she wanted to say at his genial greeting.
Kelly cleared his throat. "Where's your sister?"
"Inside eating breakfast."
Gina loved her food and had been frustrated when she'd been interrupted to gather up the cattle.
"Can I help you build?" Mikey's voice lilted, full of hope.
She waited for Kelly to brush him off, to tell Mikey the kitchen wasn't a place for a little boy, but he looked straight at Mikey. "I've got some projects that would be perfect for you, but not today. How about I let you know when I'm ready for you?"
"Tomorrow?"
"We'll see."
At least he hadn't promised. What if Kelly didn't even show up tomorrow?
She reached out and put a hand on Mikey's shoulder. "We'd better go in and finish eating too. Let me know if you need anything."
She said the words out of politeness, but she didn't meant them. Not really.
And Kelly knew it. She saw the realization in his eyes, the small tilt of his lips.
But he didn't tease or cajole or fuss like the old Kelly might've.
Which threw her off even more.
She ushered Mikey back into the liveable part of the house and tried to forget about the man working in the kitchen.
It proved impossible. He had hung plastic sheeting over the doorway—not that she'd walked through the dining room with the express purpose of spying—and the noises coming from inside resonated throughout the house.
She spent an hour in the barn, mucking out stalls and keeping an eye on Mikey and Gina, who frolicked in the pasture beyond.
She was using the hose from the spigot near the barn to spray clean some rubber buckets when Kelly stepped outside and stood at the edge of the back porch in plain view.
He slugged a bottle of water, and it was impossible to ignore the breadth of his shoulders, the definition of his chest beneath his T-shirt.
She squeezed the spray nozzle with more force than was perhaps necessary.
And then another vehicle drove up, a battered old Geo Metro she didn't recognize. In a small town like Redbud Trails, was saying something.
A lanky young man got out of the truck and joined Kelly at the porch, then followed him inside.
She stifled her curiosity for another two hours, but when she'd settled the kids in their rooms for mandatory afternoon quiet time, she couldn't contain it any longer.
She dawdled her way into the dining room, pretending to be looking for... something.
Light and the rumble of male voices filtered through the plastic curtain, along with the scraping sound that she would probably hear in her sleep for nights to come.
When they didn't seem to hear her thundering heart or sense her presence after several minutes, she gave in and ducked through the plastic.
She stopped just inside the door. The young man—whom she definitely wasn't acquainted with—was wielding a long-handled scraper of some sort, and Kelly was on his knees—wearing some kind of pads—with a short-handled scraper in hand.
He looked up, his eyes open and warm and a smile stretching across his mouth. "You finally decided to stop loitering out there?"
"I..."—didn't think you'd noticed me. "I was just checking on you. Guys."
He sat back on his feet, allowing his tool too fall to the floor as his hands rested casually on his thighs. "We're doing good."
She jerked her chin toward the young man. "Who's this?"
The kid—he couldn't be older than eighteen or nineteen—pulled an earbud out of his ear and stuck a hand out to her. "I'm Tim."
She shook his hand out of habit more than anything else. "Anna."
Tattoos wrapped around his arm in a full sleeve, and there were piercings in both of his ears. His pants were too baggy, his hair too shaggy, and he didn't quite meet her eye.
Who was he? And why did Kelly have him working here? Tim wasn't the kind of guy she would willingly invite into her home, where she had impressionable kids.
"What are you guys doing?"
"Scraping," Tim said, and his voice was laced with disgust.
"Hey, it's gotta be done," Kelly said. "And you're getting paid."
Tim muttered something beneath his breath that sounded a lot like not enough.
But her attention had returned to Kelly, who was watching her with an enigmatic look on his face.
"The old linoleum was al
ready gone," she said. She didn't understand why they were wasting time scraping the floor. It seemed unnecessary.
He didn't smile, but his eyes held hers. "Your old contractor left behind a lot of glue. We've got to clear it all away—get rid of all the old gunk—before we can lay new tile. Otherwise the new floor won't be right."
His words seemed to ring with meaning for more than just her kitchen, and she grew uncomfortable under the intensity of his gaze. She averted her eyes.
"Well. I'm glad you know what you're doing."
She ducked back through the plastic, but not before she heard his quiet, "I hope I do."
Heart beating loudly in her ears, she walked through the lower level of the house and stepped onto the front porch. She wrapped her arms around her middle, just trying to hold on.
Kelly seemed determined to do a good job on her kitchen. She should be happy for that, right?
But doing a good job might mean he would be around longer.
And she really didn't want that.
Kelly stirred up all those old feelings from their college days. She'd liked him, really liked him. And her feelings had been on the cusp of growing into something more when they'd had a disastrous first—and last—date.
Somehow, he could still melt her with a look. His smile sent tingles all the way down to her toes.
But she wasn't the same young woman any more, and she had Mikey and Gina to think about.
Plus, she couldn't forget that disastrous date. She couldn't trust Kelly to be in her life again, not as anything more than her contractor.
Could she?
4
On Saturday morning, Anna had settled on the couch with a sad, reheated cup of coffee from the Coffee Hut—she'd bought a thermos when she'd been in town yesterday since no kitchen meant no coffeemaker—watching cartoons with the kids when the sound of an electric drill shocked her into spilling coffee onto her shirt.
"Mr. Kelly!" Mikey shot off the couch, cartoon forgotten. Gina was glued to the TV.
With a sigh, Anna called after her son, "Stay out of Kelly's way."
She was on her way to the stairs when Mikey yelled, "Mom!" and she detoured into the dining room, heart pounding.
The drill had gone silent. Had Mikey been hurt?
But he stood in the dining room, bouncing on the balls of his feet and his eyes alight. Kelly was behind him, in the doorway, holding the plastic sheeting away.
She became instantly conscious of the coffee stain that was spreading and the fact that the shirt it was spreading across was one of her rattiest ones. Ted had worn it when they'd first been married. She was still in her pajama bottoms. There were dirty dishes—the remnants of their breakfast—still strung across the dining table.
Because it was Saturday.
And he wasn't supposed to be here.
Kelly's lips twitched, but he didn't say anything as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"It's the weekend," she said inanely.
He nodded, expression serious. "So it is."
"Mr. Kelly said I can work with him today as long as you said it was okay, so is it okay, Mom?"
Her eyes cut between man and boy. Mikey's hopeful puppy-dog expression reminded her so much of Ted.
"Puleease?"
"I don't think we need to be in Kelly's way while he's working."
She knew just how much of a distraction Mikey could be and couldn't imagine Kelly wanting his help.
"It'll be fine," Kelly said easily.
"But what about...?" The other guy. Tim. She didn't know anything about the young man and wasn't sure she wanted Mikey around him. What if he were a bad influence?
She tried to glance past Kelly, but his broad shoulders filled the doorway, and the plastic sheeting behind his head make it impossible to see.
Kelly seemed to read her thoughts, as usual. "I gave Tim the day off, so I could really use the extra help."
Sure he could.
Mikey went on his tiptoes, eyes pleading, as if he could sense her wavering.
"I guess it couldn't hurt—"
"Yes!" Mikey pumped a fist in the air. "Thanks, mom. You're the best!" He rushed forward and threw his arms around her.
She met Kelly's eyes over Mikey's head, trying to warn him silently that if anything happened to her baby she would not be happy.
His eyes darkened, but he smiled when Mikey quickly turned back to him.
The plastic descended, and she felt a pang as if more than just a thin piece of see-through curtain separated them.
Mikey was growing up, and she couldn't help that, but this was more.
Did Mikey gravitate toward Kelly because he missed his dad? Needed a man in his life?
She'd been wrapped up in her own grief after Ted's death and then focused on raising the kids and surviving their day-to-day lives as a single mom.
Did Mikey have an unfulfilled need that she'd ignored?
It hurt to think it might be so. Panged when she heard the rumble of Kelly's voice—though she couldn't make out his words—and Mikey's answering chatter.
There were no answers to be found staring at the plastic where man and boy had disappeared. She made herself go upstairs and change into her favorite pair of fitted jeans and a checked button-up shirt.
Even if she felt muddled about Kelly's presence and Mikey's pull toward him, she could look decent.
She wasn't dressing to draw Kelly's notice.
She wasn't.
* * *
"And this is the rope ladder..."
Kelly sat next to Mikey, their feet dangling off the back porch as the boy showed him a detailed sketch of his dream treehouse.
In the distance, a cow lowed. Other than that and some bugs chirping, there was silence. No traffic. It was peaceful, especially with the bright blue sky overhead.
The boy had obviously spent hours on the drawing, as evidenced by the details of each board and even leaves on the tree branches as Kelly bent his head to look.
"A rope ladder might be kind of wobbly if your sister wanted to climb up."
Mikey pulled a face, and Kelly was hard-pressed to keep a smile off his face.
"I want the tree house to be boys only. Just for me and my friends."
He might think girls had cooties now, but wait until he got older.
"Hmm." Kelly thought about it for a minute. "But sisters can be fun sometimes, right? Plus, you've got to be real careful on a rope ladder. What if you're in a hurry to get up into your tree house? A regular old board ladder would be much faster."
Mikey kept his head down, looking at the picture, his index finger tracing the ladder he'd drawn. "I guess."
"Mikey?" Anna's voice carried through the open door to the kitchen.
"Out here!" Kelly called back.
Mikey jumped up and ran to meet his mom. He disappeared into the kitchen, but Kelly could clearly hear him. "Lookit! Mr. Kelly let me unscrew all the handles from the drawers and all the cabinet doors." Though he couldn't see past a few feet inside, Kelly could easily imagine Mikey pointing to the careful rows of screws, kitchen hardware and cabinet doors Mikey had stacked along one wall inside. The boy liked to organize.
"Oh, wow. That must have been a lot of turns on the screwdriver."
"I used the drill."
He felt more than saw her moving toward him, and then she appeared in the doorway, looking adorable in jeans tucked into her cowgirl boots. Scowling.
"You let him use the drill?"
She was riled. And it shouldn't make him want to smile, but it did.
"He's almost nine. Plenty old enough."
He could almost see the steam releasing out her ears, saw the wheels of her mind working behind her eyes. "But what if—?"
"I was watching him the whole time. He was careful." More careful than Kelly would have been at that age. Somebody needed to rough up the kid a little, teach him how to get good and dirty.
"But what about the cabinets? What if the drilled slipped?"
&n
bsp; He shrugged. "Then I'd fix it when I sanded off the old lacquer."
She'd run out of arguments, but her frown remained.
Mikey and Gina tromped loudly through the kitchen, finally pushing mom gently out of the way. They both shoved each other, and then Mikey jumped off the porch.
Gina moved to follow, and Kelly found himself stretching out his arm to catch her even as Anna swooped behind and stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.
"Stairs, young lady."
"Aww, mom." But Gina quickly obeyed and joined her brother in the grass. She took off to the barn, but Mikey turned back.
"Mr. Kelly, wanna come see my horse?"
He shouldn't. He knew Anna wanted him to stay in the kitchen and finish the job, but he'd been working hard for two and a half days, and a few minutes in the barn wouldn't hurt anything.
He found himself on his feet and trailing the boy toward the large red structure across the grassy yard.
Anna muttered as she took up the rear.
A short-furred dog ambled out to meet them as they neared the barn.
"That's Otis," Mikey said. "He's been mom's dog since before I was born."
The dog's tongue lolled out in a doggie smile as Kelly dropped a pat on its head and followed Mikey into the barn.
The interior was cool and shadowed, sunlight filtering in through the double doors thrown wide. The scents of hay and horses had his nose twitching, but he managed to ward off a sneeze.
Mikey gestured him closer to a stall door.
"This is Samson."
A huge brown head came over the stall door, and the horse lipped Mikey's shoulder.
"Wow. He's big."
Bigger than Kelly had expected. He'd seen Mikey riding that first morning when the cows had blocked him, but he hadn't realized how big the horse was compared to Mikey.
The horse snuffled Mikey's hair, and the boy laughed, ducking away from the animal. It swung its head toward Kelly, making a sort of whuffle sound.
He couldn't help it, he stepped back.
Mikey looked at him with wide eyes. "You scared of him?"
He hated to admit to the sweat trickling down the back of his T-shirt, but it seemed too late to hide his reaction.
"Kelly was a city boy back when I knew him before. You've still never ridden?"
Cowgirl for Keeps Page 3