Sweet Home Colorado (The O'Malley Men)

by C. C. Coburn

  “I thought you said you didn’t nag.”

  Grace glowered. He had her there, but she was determined to win. “Deal?”

  “Deal,” he said, and they shook on it.

  As he released her hand, she caught his in both of hers, turned it over and said as she examined his arm, “Your eczema has really responded to the cream and your new diet.” Then she rubbed her forefinger over the calluses on his hand.

  Jack swallowed, half embarrassed, half turned on by her attention as she continued to rub her fingers over the badge of his profession. Finally he could take it no longer and cleared his throat.

  Grace snapped out of her trance and released him. “Sorry. I couldn’t help noticing your calluses.”

  “I work with my hands, Grace. They’re unavoidable.”

  She smiled and it melted his heart. “There’s something incredibly sexy about a man who works with his hands.” She shrugged. “It’s masculine, I guess.”

  “And men without calluses aren’t masculine?”

  “My ex had a weekly manicure. I always felt there was something weirdly effeminate about that.”

  Jack smiled. Grace had been a nail-biter. It was one of the many things he’d loved about her. The insecurity it spoke of made him feel protective toward her.

  “Trust me, you’ll want to have short nails when you’re using power tools or sanding what seems like acres of wood or stripping wallpaper.”

  “I can hardly wait,” she said drolly.

  “I won’t be around much tomorrow. I’ve got a lot of ordering to do and I have to check Adam’s site since I want to get the foundations laid this summer. Two of my guys have moved over to concreting and another to bricklaying. They’ve got jobs with other contractors in town, so they can all work on Adam’s house while we work here. My brothers and I have always helped build one another’s homes on the weekends. It brings us together and defuses some of the tension that builds up during the week at our jobs.”

  “Except that you’ll be doing the same thing you do all week.” Grace finished up her sandwich and placed the wrapper back in the paper bag. “That was delicious, by the way.”

  “Thanks, Tyrone made it. He’s on lunch duty every day—gets up early and puts sandwiches and drinks together for all of us. I’ve added you to his list for tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want to be any bother! I can grab something in town.”

  “Where you could get waylaid talking to someone or take too long over lunch. This way you’re on-site and I can get the most out of you, workwise.”

  “Slave driver.” She laughed, knowing Jack was joking.

  “Sure am.” Jack stood, took the package from her and neatly pitched it into a trash can on the porch.

  “Do your apprentices all live in town?”

  “Yes, in an old house on Main Street. They bunk together for free but each has a duty to attend to in lieu of rent. Tyrone’s is making the lunches, Zac cleans and Ace does the gardening for all my properties.”

  “You own a number of properties?”

  “Most in partnership with Will.”

  “And where do you live?” Grace asked as she stepped out the front gate ahead of Jack.

  “In a miner’s shack outside town.”

  “That doesn’t sound very luxurious.”

  “It isn’t. But it suits me. For now.” He opened Betsy’s passenger door. “We can return your car to the rental place now if you’d like.”

  * * *

  GRACE CLIMBED IN. So Jack owned a “number” of properties in town? He’d done well for himself. And here she was, after all those years of studying and working, and all she owned was a run-down house she could never sell—and a condo in Boston with a huge mortgage. Since she’d been gullible enough to sign a prenup with Edward, she’d walked away from their marriage with her clothes, some savings and a couple of pieces of furniture she’d bought with her own money. That was it.

  “Before I forget. Mom’s issued an edict. I’m supposed to bring you to dinner this Friday. If you have something else to do, tell me now so I can let her down gently.”

  Grace didn’t have anything planned for her evenings—for the rest of her life. But dinner with the O’Malleys might be too much, too soon.

  “Uh, I was planning on attending one of the summertime concerts this Friday,” Grace lied, and almost choked. She hated lying.

  Jack started the truck and pulled into the street. He glanced across at her. “Then you should buy your ticket now, because saying you’re ‘planning’ to do something and actually making a commitment by paying for it are two very different things to my mom.”

  Grace smiled. Jack’s mom was a sweetheart. But she also could be a formidable woman...

  “Maybe you could take me by the box office now and I can buy a ticket.” Grace had no idea what was playing, but anything would be better than being confronted by the O’Malleys en masse.

  * * *

  SHOSTAKOVITCH’S CELLO CONCERTO, Grace read in the Friday night performance program. Ugh! Cello music was so depressing. So not what she needed right now. She preferred lighthearted orchestral music.

  “I can see by your face that you’re not a fan.”

  “I wonder if there’s anything more interesting happening in Denver. Like a baseball game,” she said with as much enthusiasm as someone heading to the gallows.

  Jack chuckled at her remark and pointed to the poster advertising upcoming recitals at the Spruce Lake performing Arts Center. “Saturday night is Swan Lake,” he said. “I bet you’re a sucker for Tchaikovsky.”

  “I am,” she said dreamily. “Oh, and next Saturday is Hits of Hollywood,” she noted, looking farther down the program. “I wonder if I can get season tickets. I’ll need some cultural diversion in this town.”

  “From what I recall, you were never a snob, Grace.”

  “I’m sorry. But I don’t want to spend every night sitting alone in the apartment over Mrs. C.’s shop watching television or...knitting.”

  “You knit?”

  “No, I don’t. But it seems like something you’d do when you don’t have anything else to occupy your time.” She glanced up at him and confessed, “The truth is, Jack, that I adore your family but I know what they’re like. The thought of them asking about our relationship fills me with panic.”

  Grinning, Jack said, “How about this—you come to dinner on Friday, thus saving yourself from falling asleep during the cello concerto, and I’ll accompany you to Swan Lake.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Sure. I’m not a complete knucklehead, you know.” Jack approached the box-office window. “Two of your best seats for Saturday night,” he said to the attendant.

  “No, let me pay!” Grace protested, trying to elbow him aside.

  “Too late,” Jack said, taking the tickets from the attendant and tapping Grace on the nose with them.

  “My treat next time, then.”

  “We’ll see,” Jack said, and headed back to his truck, giving Grace no alternative but to follow.

  A half hour later, they’d picked up and returned her rental and were back on the road to Spruce Lake. The sun was setting over the mountains, leaving the sky a glowing pink. Grace couldn’t help sighing at the beauty of it.

  “I have an even better view of the sunsets from my shack,” Jack said. “You’ll have to come see it sometime.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Grace?”

  Grace looked up from sanding the front railings to find a woman with dark red hair and vivid green eyes mounting the steps onto the veranda. The woman held out her hand and said, “I’m Becky O’Malley, Jack’s sister-in-law.”

  Feeling less than presentable, Grace wiped her dusty palm on her jeans, took Becky’s hand and shook it. “Jack just went to the hardware store.”

  “Actually, I’m looking for you. I’m on my lunch break from the courthouse and I like to take a walk to clear my head before the afternoon session.” Becky rested her hip against
the railing and crossed her arms. “Looks like Jack gave you one of the rotten jobs,” she said, indicating the sandpaper Grace was holding.

  Grace made a face. “I can tell you, it’s getting old fast. I’ve decided I’m going to pay one of the guys extra to do this job for me. Come on inside.”

  Becky followed her into the house and let out a low whistle. “Wow, what a mess!”

  “I’m already having serious doubts about this project,” Grace admitted as she washed her hands at the sink, the only part of the counter Ace had left in his demolition of the kitchen.

  “I’m sure it’ll all be worth it in the end,” Becky told her. “What have you planned for the house?”

  Grace took her on a tour of the main floor and then they headed upstairs. Becky nodded her approval throughout, and once they’d reached the old bathroom, she sat on the edge of the bath and indicated Grace should join her.

  “So, tell me about you and Jack,” she said.

  Surprised by her forthrightness, Grace said, “There’s nothing to tell. He’s renovating the house for me.”

  “And then?”

  “Then I’ll have to find someone to rent it. I’m sort of bound by trust to keep it in the family.”

  “Would you consider staying and living in it yourself?”

  “And where would I work?”

  “We need more doctors in this town. Especially good doctors. Female doctors.”

  “I’m a pediatrician. I doubt there are enough children here for a busy practice.”

  “You’d be surprised. There isn’t a pediatrician between here and Denver. You’d be in huge demand.”

  Suspicious, Grace couldn’t help asking, “Why are you pushing the point? You hardly know me.”

  “Truthfully? I want to see Jack happy.”

  “I don’t see what that’s got to do with me.”

  “He was in love with you once. I think he still is.”

  Startled by Becky’s remark, Grace said, “Jack and I were just high school sweethearts—a long time ago.”

  “Jack mentioned that you were married when you lived in Boston.”

  Grace screwed up her face. “Worst ten years of my life. And that’s saying something!”

  “He said you had a pretty lousy childhood. Me, too. And a lousier marriage. I was determined that nothing and no one would touch my heart again. And then Will O’Malley roared into my courtroom and drove me to distraction with his antics over that pig of Frank Farquar’s. And when that didn’t work, he set his family on me and made my son fall in love with him. After that, I had no hope of resisting him.”

  Grace laughed at the tale and the way Becky told it, as if she was still half-mad at herself for letting Will get under her skin so easily.

  “It might have worked for you, Becky, but I have no intention of ever marrying again.”

  “I felt like that, too.” Becky shrugged. “However, we’re all different. I just don’t want to see my brother-in-law pining his life away.”

  “And now you’re being overdramatic!”

  Becky laughed. “Okay—”

  Tyrone burst into the bathroom and stopped in his tracks. “Sorry, Ms. Saunders. Judge. I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

  “Anything we can do for you, Tyrone?” Grace asked the boy. She was fond of Tyrone. He was a hard worker who had a cheerful nature and a cheeky smile.

  “I’m s’posed to start demolishing the bathroom. Ace is on his way over to show me how.”

  He turned to Becky. “Jack said I should come talk to you about a job I want to take at Rusty’s on Friday and Saturday nights.”

  Becky nodded. “He told me about it already and I’m pleased you want to work and save. How about if you come and see me at the courthouse when you knock off here tonight and we’ll go over it? Just tell them I’m expecting you.”

  “Thanks, Judge,” he said, and then looked uncomfortable. “Sorry, ma’am, Judge, I’ll have to ask you to move so Ace and I can get the bathtub out.”

  The bathroom was yet another seventies renovation nightmare. There wasn’t anything in it worth preserving, so Grace had agreed that Ace should demolish it the way he’d done the kitchen.

  Ace appeared then, brandishing a sledgehammer, and she and Becky squeezed past him. “Water’s turned off,” he said to Tyrone. “Let’s get to work.”

  Becky and Grace went down to the first floor, accompanied by the sounds of smashing tiles.

  Jack had returned from the hardware store. “Guess I better order another Dumpster,” he said, glancing up the stairs toward the racket. “I’m not sure Ace is cut out to be a carpenter, but he has a real talent for demolition.”

  “Is there any danger he’ll accidentally demolish the whole house?” Grace asked mock seriously.

  “He might,” Jack said, then couldn’t keep a straight face.

  Becky laughed, too. “I spoke to Tyrone about the job at Rusty’s. He’s going to see me after work.”

  “I suspect the reason you just happened to come by has nothing to do with Tyrone,” Jack said.

  “Just wanted to meet Spruce Lake’s newest resident.”

  Jack looked at Grace and said, deadpan, “You’ve met the nosiest of my sisters-in-law. The rest are pussycats compared to Becky.”

  Becky punched him lightly on the arm.

  Grace watched the exchange, seeing the genuine affection between them. “Then I can’t wait to meet them,” she said, and turned to Becky. “It was a pleasure talking to you, Becky, and I look forward to seeing you on Friday night.”

  “You’re coming to dinner?”

  “If your sisters-in-law are half as nice as you, I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Becky’s face glowed. “Sarah will be delighted. She speaks highly of you.”

  “You’ve discussed me?” Grace was starting to feel uncomfortable.

  “It’s the real reason I dropped by. To make sure Jack remembered to invite you.”

  “Which I already have and she’s accepted.”

  “Then tell your mom, will you?” Becky said, a bit flustered. “Otherwise, you’ll have a never-ending stream of O’Malley women showing up to meet Grace and talk her into coming to dinner.”

  Jack pulled out his cell and turned away to make a call. “Mom, stop siccing the girls on Grace, okay? She’s coming on Friday.”

  Becky checked her watch. “I’d better go back to the madhouse,” she said. “Let’s do lunch sometime soon, okay? I job-share with another judge, so I work two days one week and three the following. Unless we have a big case, and then I have to stay for the duration. But it would be great to get together with you, Grace. Just us girls. I’ll call Beth, Carly and Megan and have them clear their schedules.”

  * * *

  “SHE WASN’T TOO PUSHY, was she?” Jack asked after Becky had left.

  “No, of course not,” Grace assured him. “In fact, I found her charming. I gather you two work together with some of your apprentices?”

  Jack nodded. “I have a friend who’s a social worker in L.A. He lets me know about kids who might benefit from being around some positive male role models and getting away from the city and the bad influences there. Matt has contacts in Denver and Miami who do the same. The kids meet with Becky every week to talk about how they’re doing, what they want to do with their lives, stuff like that. Some of them come in as real hard cases, but a half hour with Becky pretty much beats the attitude out of them and they’re willing to do anything to get away from her.”

  Grace laughed and said, “That’s a bit unfair. Tyrone seems to like her.”

  “Becky doesn’t care if the kids like her. The point is, Tyrone respects her. He was one of the worst cases when he arrived. He’s made huge improvements in his life and I’m glad to see he’s taking the initiative of applying for another job. It’s the best I can hope for, that they become financially independent and are happy in their chosen careers, whatever those might be. But if Tyrone works out at Rusty’s I could be looking for another
apprentice.”

  “And someone to make the lunches.”

  A crash echoed from above, followed by masculine bellows of laughter. “I’d better go check that out,” he said.

  As Jack took the stairs two at a time, Grace watched, enjoying his fluid movements.

  So, tomorrow night she’d be having dinner at Two Elk. Just like old times. Well, not quite the same, since the family had been added to significantly in the intervening years.

  What they didn’t know was that there was another member of the family out there, one they’d never meet.

  Chapter Twelve

  “You can’t pay Tyrone extra to do a job he’s supposed to do, anyway,” Jack said.

  “I was paying him extra to do my job!” Grace explained. “All that sanding was killing my hands. Plus, it’s boring.”

  “What happened to you helping out with the renovation?”

  “I’m helping! I’m just giving the guy some extra cash to do the dull bits. Anyway, you and I both know I don’t have to do any of this if I don’t want to. I’m the one paying the bills. Stop being so high-handed.”

  Unmoved, Jack crossed his arms and said, “Then we’ll have to find a job that doesn’t involve getting your precious hands dirty.”

  “I’m good at picking paint colors.”

  “Which takes all of ten minutes.”

  “Um, sweeping?”

  “I heard you offering to pay Ace to do that.”

  “The broom gave me splinters!”

  “Then wear gloves.”

  “It’s too hot to wear gloves!”

  “This sounds a lot like nagging to me. Pretty soon you’ll have to make good on our bet.”

  “The hell I will!” Grace protested.

  * * *

  AFTER ASKING JACK what to wear to Friday dinner and being told “country casual,” Grace went back to Perkins Clothing and Boots, the store where she’d bought her steel-toed boots.

  The store was an interesting mix of Western fashion, footwear and even haberdashery, much like the stores of a hundred and fifty years earlier. Grace had noticed some nice denim skirts and checkered shirts when she’d bought her boots. As she walked inside, she was assailed by the scent of leather and something like old tobacco smoke. She made her way to ladies’ apparel and hunted through the skirts, settling on one that reached her knees and another that was considerably shorter. She picked out some scoop-neck T-shirts, since Jack didn’t seem able to keep his eyes off her cleavage when she wore them, and for modesty at the O’Malley dinner table, Grace also chose several checked cotton shirts. After trying the clothing on, she paid for her goods and left the store, feeling very pleased with herself.