Adam leaned back in the large chair in his room and bit into one of the homemade cookies Edith Johnson had given him, slowly savoring the taste. He loved chocolate-chip cookies. He’d tried every brand on the market. At one time he’d even had the nation’s undisputed best cookie, Jamison’s Premier, shipped to him wherever he was in the world.
But he’d never tasted anything like the ones made by the little old lady he’d met today. They weren’t the biggest or the most visually appealing. They were small and misshapen. But the melt-in-your-mouth, deep chocolate taste was amazing. All that was lacking to make it perfect was a big glass of milk.
In the time he’d been living with the Durrants he’d never left his room once he’d retired for the night. He didn’t want to intrude into their private time and he didn’t want to call attention to the fact that he was technically a prisoner in their home. Angie had repeatedly told him to make himself at home, but he’d never taken her up on the offer. Until tonight.
Moving to the door, he cracked it open, listening for sounds of activity. Quiet as a church. He eased out and went down to the kitchen. Taking a glass from the cupboard, he poured some milk and sat down at the table. He’d eaten two cookies when Tom entered the room. He glanced up, prepared to apologize, but Tom held up his hand and took a seat at the table. Adam offered him a cookie.
“Oh, Edith Johnson’s, right?” He pulled one from the sack and took a big bite. “Wonderful. Was this your reward for doing community service? Homemade cookies?”
Adam grinned. “Unusual but effective.”
“I’m guessing this is a new kind of charity work for you.”
“You could say that. I usually write a check or make a pledge. Sometimes I attend a gala charity party.”
“Those are all good ways to help others, but using your own two hands, actually doing the work that’s needed, that’s a different thing entirely.”
Adam understood the concept. He’d learned long ago that watching someone do extreme sports bore little resemblance to experiencing it firsthand. “I’m starting to understand. Can I ask you about Handy Works? How can it keep going if you rely only on donations and volunteers? Even the best of charities require some form of financial base to operate. Laura’s ministry wakes up each morning not knowing whether they’ll be able to do business that day or not. I just think there might be a better way to structure Handy Works and keep it volunteer-based.”
Tom studied him a moment. “I agree, but I have to let Laura do it her way for now. In case you haven’t noticed, my Boo is a very loving and giving young woman. She’s also very passionate about anything she takes on.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed.” She’d worked on the ramp with her usual energy and dedication, wielding power tools and a hammer with gusto. Then she treated the elderly Miss Edith with the gentle love and care of a nurse.
When she smiled, it was as if a light came on inside her. She glowed with happiness. The woman’s joy over her new ramp was reflected in Laura’s violet eyes. Laura had said her payment had nothing to do with money. He was beginning to understand. The satisfaction she received from the project was larger than the ramp she’d built for the older woman.
“I understand you have a conflict with the length of your sentence.”
Adam shifted uncomfortably. He was learning quickly that nothing was secret in a small town. “I do. My father and I haven’t been on good terms for a long time. When I refused to go to work in the family business, he cut me off. Left me a trust fund, but I have to show up in person each year to get my paycheck or I lose it all. This sentence won’t be over until two days after the deadline.”
“So you come from a family-owned-business background like Laura does.”
The comment caught him off guard. He’d never thought about it. “Yes, I suppose so.” Holbrook Electronics had been started by his grandfather. He was the third generation, but he wanted no part of the business. Was that why his father had put the conditions on his inheritance? Had he been hoping that his son would eventually see the value of his legacy and join the team?
“Parents have expectations for their children. Some men work to build a business with the goal of creating it to pass on to their son. If the son doesn’t want it, then it can feel like a slap in the face. All their sacrifice and hard work was for nothing.” Tom stood and pushed his chair under the table. “I’m sorry to hear about your conflict, Adam. I wish there was something I could do to help.”
“Thanks, Tom, but it’s my fault, my situation to deal with. I’ll figure something out.” He had to. There was no alternative.
*
Laura poured water into her coffeemaker, set the timer and turned off the kitchen light. Tomorrow couldn’t happen unless the coffee was ready and waiting when she got up. Today had been a good day. The brickwork was coming along and both Handy Works projects had gone well. Adam had been more help than she’d anticipated. He’d never complained. Never refused any task she’d assigned. Though he was totally puzzled by the Handy Works ministry.
She’d been blessed to be able to make a living doing work she loved and to be surrounded by people who cared about her. Her ministry allowed her to help others and give back.
She let Wally out the back door, waiting on the stoop while he attended to his business.
But was that enough? She’d been content with her life until Matt and Shelby had gotten engaged. Lately she’d been wishing for someone to come home to. Someone other than a dog.
An image of Adam Holbrook came to mind—his make-your-knees weak smile, the broad shoulders that had come in handy today. Good grief, what was she thinking? “Wally, come on.”
The moment the dog returned, she closed the door. The wedding, that’s what was causing all these crazy thoughts in her head. Seeing her brother and Shelby so in love and planning their wedding was making her all dreamy.
The phone rang and she ran to get it. “Hello?”
“Hey, Boo. You have time to talk to your old dad?”
“Of course. What is it?”
“I learned something today that I think you should know about. It concerns Adam.”
Laura listened as her father explained, her mind trying to absorb what she was hearing. When she finally said goodbye she knew she’d spend several sleepless hours tonight considering his suggestion.
Chapter Five
Laura watched Adam as he came down the back porch steps and walked toward the truck. His usual enthusiasm was missing today. They’d worked together nearly a week now and she’d come to recognize his moods. Normally he jogged down the steps and hurried to join her. Today he was dragging his feet and the relaxed grin he usually wore was missing, as well.
He climbed in and shut the door with barely a mumbled hello. She allowed him some space. She’d been working him pretty hard. He wasn’t used to the physical demands of construction work. Maybe it was catching up with him. But her concern mounted when he kept silent for more than a block. “Is everything all right?”
He glanced over at her and nodded. “Yeah. I think the confinement is getting to me, that’s all.”
“I’d hardly call staying at my parents’ home confinement.”
“It is when you aren’t free to go anyplace but there. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to them for taking me in. I’d rather be there than in jail. But I’m used to being on my own, not sharing a house with someone else. I could use a good run. I normally get in five miles a day, but that’s out of the question for now.”
“I know this must be hard for you, but it can’t be helped.”
His mouth moved in a small grin. “Time to pay the piper, huh?”
“In a way. If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re doing a great job at the gazebo. In fact, if you wanted to put your mind to it, you could be a decent carpenter.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind. I might be looking for work soon.” He turned back toward the side window, ending the conversation.
Laura thought about what her father h
ad told her last night on the phone. That Adam would lose everything if he wasn’t in Atlanta on time. Unfortunately, his deadline was two days before his sentence was over. Her father had offered a suggestion, but she wasn’t sure she liked it.
Slowly, Laura drove the truck up over the curb and parked beside the gazebo. The city had removed a portion of the iron fence so she could park closer and keep tools and materials handy. She went immediately to the newly restored foundation and made her inspection. Tony had done his usual outstanding job. The was no sign of the damage.
Now she could start the woodwork. She was looking forward to it. It was what she loved. She hoped Adam wouldn’t be a hindrance. If he caught on to everything as quickly as he had during the construction of the ramp yesterday, she might have to revise her opinion of him.
“What do we do today?” He lifted the nail gun from the truck bed and examined it closely. “This should be a blast to use.”
Laura grinned. Typical man. They reverted to ten-year-olds when they had a power tool in their hand. “It doesn’t work that way. You can’t fire a nail gun like a pistol.”
“No? Then how does it work?”
“You have to compress the tip before the trigger will engage.”
Together, they worked on rebuilding the floor of the gazebo. A few hours later, Laura decided they needed a break. She brought Adam a cold drink, hoisting herself up onto the edge of the nearly completed deck.
Adam had been very helpful. His strength had made replacing the joists and sistering in supports for the less-damaged ones quick and easy. “I got a call from Edith.” She took a sip of her drink. “She loves her ramp.”
“Good.” He came and sat down beside her. “Have you known her long?”
Laura shook her head. “Not well. I’ve met her once or twice.”
Adam frowned. “I thought you knew everyone in Dover.”
“We’re not that small a town. Not anymore. I was born and raised here, but I don’t know everyone.”
“But you like the slower pace, the quiet?”
Laura raised her eyebrows. “That’s a misconception about the South. We work just as hard and long as anyplace else. My days fly by faster than I can handle sometimes, and I never feel like I’m going at a slower pace.”
“No insult intended. I guess I like the big city because there’s always something happening. I like the unexpected.”
“I like predictable.”
“And that’s why I’d go crazy living in a place like Dover.”
A small twinge of disappointment settled in Laura’s mind. She should have expected him to feel that way, but she’d hoped he was at least coming to appreciate her hometown.
“How did you like Miss Edith’s cookies?”
“Fantastic, but they’re all gone.”
Laura laughed. “They never last long. But don’t worry. Miss Edith sells her cookies over at Cynthia’s gift shop. We can pick some up next time we’re in the area.”
“Good, because Miss Edith needs to patent that recipe. She could make a fortune.”
“Can’t.” Laura shook her head. “It’s not hers. She uses the same recipe everyone else does, the one on the package.”
“Nah, I don’t believe it. There has to be some kind of secret ingredient.”
Laura chuckled softly. “Oh, there is. It’s called love.”
“Right.”
“Honestly. She loves making the cookies. She loves giving them away. She loves selling them. It’s the same way your mother’s cooking always tastes better than anyone else’s—the love she puts into it for her family.”
“I wouldn’t know about that.” He stood and tossed his empty bottle into the trash.
Too late she remembered his comments about his mother. She bit her lip. She’d have to watch what she said from now on, but it was hard to monitor her words when her life was so full of family.
“I don’t suppose there’s any way I could get my car fixed before I’m released?” Adam glanced back over his shoulder.
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Do you have someone around here who knows about vintage cars? That baby’s a classic.”
“If it was so valuable, why were you driving it in the first place?” She tossed her hammer onto the workbench and picked up her notes.
“I’d just broken up with someone and I was soothing my bruised ego with a new car.” Adam set his hands on his hips. “So, what do we tackle next?”
Laura dared a look into his green eyes, darkened now by some emotion. Sadness? Loneliness? He walked back to the workbench, leaving her with questions. It was hard for her to grasp that Adam had never known even the most basic of family experiences. Things she took for granted, like her mother’s love and attention, her close relationship with her brothers and being brought up to care for others. Maybe her father’s idea had merit after all. It would be a win-win situation for both her and Adam.
As they worked together on securing the final screws into the floorboards, Laura waited for a good time to start a conversation. “When are you supposed to be in Atlanta?”
Adam turned and studied her, his green eyes narrowed. “The twenty-eighth. How did you know about that? Oh, wait. Your dad.”
She nodded. “It’s important that you get home in time for this meeting?”
“Crucial.”
She took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest. “I want to propose a deal.”
“Meaning what?”
She heard the skepticism in his deep voice and she couldn’t blame him. “Maybe there’s a way we can both get what we want.” She braved a glance at him. His expression was expectant but wary. “Dad talked with my uncle last night and he’s agreed to let you out in time for your meeting, but the gazebo has to be done or no deal.”
“Is that possible? To finish early, I mean?”
She nodded. “I’ve got the materials and the subcontractors lined up. If all goes well, we could actually be finished a week ahead of schedule. Plenty of time for you to get home and meet your obligation.”
Relief was clearly visible on his face. He dragged a hand along the back of his neck.
“All right, it’s a deal.” He caught her gaze. “Thanks. This means a lot to me.”
His probing gaze made her uneasy and she glanced away.
“Good. Okay.” She went back to work aware of his eyes still on her. It hit her then. If they got the gazebo done as quickly as she’d hoped, she’d have one less week to deal with Adam Holbrook. The idea wasn’t as welcome as she’d expected.
It had taken them until noon to finish placing the screws to firmly secure the floor. Adam was a big help, even though he still worked slower than her regular guys. She placed her drill bit on the final screw, driving it in with gusto before letting out a triumphant shout. “Done!”
She climbed down and stepped back to admire the work, unable to keep from smiling.
“So what are we celebrating?” Adam came to her side, watching her curiously.
“The floor. We are ahead of schedule. You don’t know what a blessing it was to have those oak planks in my shop. Trying to find more would have taken days.” She smiled up at him, almost giddy with delight.
He chuckled and smiled. “Okay. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
She wanted to dance around the park, but that would be undignified. Her joy evaporated when her cell phone rang and she read the name on the screen. “Oh, no.” She answered the call, her mood plunging with every word spoken in her ear. She hung up and sagged against a sawhorse.
“What’s wrong?”
“That was the supplier at Ashley Salvage calling to tell me I can’t get the cypress I need for the roof. I’ll have to find a new source.”
“Won’t some other wood do?”
“No. I’m required to restore with original materials when possible.”
“And when it’s not possible?”
“It’s always possible. It’ll just take longer to find and have it shipp
ed here. I may have to go get it.”
“So will this mess up the schedule?”
Laura shrugged. “Not necessarily. I just hope we can keep up this pace. People will be so disappointed if it’s not done for the festival.”
“Well, then, we’ll just have to work harder. What do we tackle next?”
“I have to check on my other jobs. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with you, though.”
“Couldn’t I tag along?” He straightened, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Wouldn’t helping you on other jobs qualify as community service?”
“I suppose so. Okay, I’ll get you extra leeway on your ankle monitor, then we’ll get something to eat first.” Laura crossed her arms and studied him a moment. “Burgers or chicken?”
“What?”
The bemused look on his face made her chuckle. “Well, we have to eat. Might as well do that first. I’m starving.” She started gathering up her tools, then climbed into the cab and slammed the door. Adam hurried to join her. She turned to face him, fingers paused on the keys. “What will it be? Burgers or chicken?” The smile Adam gave her sent her heart tripping. It really was a great smile.
“Burgers.”
“I know the perfect place. Best burgers in central Mississippi.”
“Don’t forget to call about my monitor. I don’t need to get on the wrong side of your uncle again.”
She cranked the engine. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Easy for you to say.”
*
They rode in silence until they pulled up at a refurbished gas station. The sign read Fill ’er Up Burgers. Adam had to smile at the owner’s sense of humor. The old filling station had a lot of charm, from the old gas pumps outside to the vintage car parked as if waiting to be serviced. It was right out of a 1950s postcard.
“Interesting.” He smiled as they walked through the door. The decor inside continued the theme. Hub caps and old license plates adorned the walls. Refurbished motor oil stands and vintage road maps completed the effect. The tables were made of stamped steel. An antique cola chest-type container served as the payment counter.
Adam felt all eyes focus on him the moment they stepped through the door. A hush fell over the diner. He was suddenly more aware of his ankle monitor than he’d been before, even though it was well-hidden beneath his jeans and boots. These people saw him as the bad guy. A destroyer of their beloved landmark.
Restoring His Heart Page 7