I pushed away, trying to find my rhythm of breathing again and hoping he didn’t feel my heart pounding or feel the heat my body was giving off. His hands were just above my ass, and God, God, I wanted them there and lower and everywhere.
“I think she’s all right. Probably just a little shaken. Maybe got the breath knocked out of her.” Linc’s voice was very close to my ear. Slowly he lowered me to the ground, keeping his hands on my hips.
I kept my hands on his arms, still a little breathless. I told myself it was for balance, that I was still shaky from the surge of adrenaline. It had nothing to do with how solid Linc’s muscles felt under my fingers. I willed those fingers to stay still and not to trace the tendons on his forearms . . .
“My God, Jenna, you scared the crap out of me!” Rilla grasped my shoulders and pulled me away from Linc. I was inexplicably annoyed with her for taking me away from him, while at the same time, I thought vaguely and stupidly that I really must have frightened her, since she never took the name of the Lord in vain.
“Sorry.” I managed to choke out one word. Swallowing hard, I willed my heart to slow down and cleared my throat. “Sorry, Rilla. I thought I could get it attached there, but I must’ve had the step stool over a little too far.”
“Yeah, well . . .” She glanced over my shoulder. “Thank God you saw her falling and could get here. I was frozen in place—I couldn’t make myself move.”
I laughed a little, the sound still shaky in my own ears. “I would’ve crushed you, Rilla. I’m glad you didn’t try to catch me.” For the first time, I let my eyes meet Linc’s, praying he didn’t see there what was going on in my treacherous body. “Thank you for catching me. I really thought for a minute that I was going to end up broken on the ground.”
“You’re not broken, Jenna.” He murmured the words so low that I wasn’t sure I’d heard him. For several heartbeats, he gazed at me steadily before breaking away to smile at Rilla. “Hey. I’m Linc Turner. You must be Rilla Wallace, right? Mason’s wife?”
“Guilty on both counts. And Jenna’s cousin.” Rilla extended her hand as understanding dawned on her face. “Oh! Linc. You work with Jenna out at the plantation job, right? You’re the contractor.”
“My turn to plead guilty.” Linc’s large hand engulfed Rilla’s small one. “I’m real glad to meet you. I got to know your husband pretty soon after we moved to Burton. He’s a great guy.”
“One of a kind, for sure.” Rilla glowed as she always did when she spoke of Mason.
Linc turned his neck, scanning the area, and then waved in the direction of the sidewalk. “I was walking with the kids when I spotted Jenna about to go splat. I took off running, and they probably think I’m crazy.”
Becca walked toward us, accompanied by a smaller boy with dark red hair and blue eyes. He ran to Linc, coming to a sudden halt and standing with his hands on hips, reminding me of a diminutive Peter Pan.
“Dad, there’s horses. I saw them on the street, right after you ran away. There were like, ten. Maybe fifteen. And they’re all dressed up, decorated with bows and stuff.”
Rilla laughed. “That’s the horse brigade. They’ll be part of the parade later on. And then there’s more horses pulling the canons, and mules when the Sons of Burton come by, dressed like soldiers from the War Between the States.” She looked up at Becca, who was watching all of us, an unreadable expression on her face. “The Daughters of the South dress up in beautiful antebellum gowns, too. That’s one of my favorite parts.”
“Becca and Oliver, this is Miss Rilla. And this is Miss Jenna, who’s working on Oak Grove plantation with me. You’ve heard me mention her.” Linc winked at me, and I was pretty certain my insides turned completely over.
“Uh, Becca and I met already. Over at Kiki’s.” I smiled at her. “Have you been back for cookies?”
The girl nodded, but she didn’t answer me out loud.
“Where are you going to watch the parade and eat your picnic?” Rilla crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you know the best spots? Or are you meeting friends?”
Linc shook his head. “We were just kind of winging it, this being our first year. I figured we could buy something to eat and just perch on a curb somewhere. What would be your recommendation?”
“I’m biased, of course, but I think right here is the perfect place. And you don’t need to worry about food, because Aunt Millie and the girls always make way too much. There will be plenty. Please, do join us.”
I was grateful that Rilla was extending the invitation, because even if I’d wanted to, I wasn’t sure I could’ve managed it yet. I was still coming down from the double whammy of near-death (okay, well, maybe near maiming. Near concussion?) and the way my body had reacted to Linc’s hands on me. I hadn’t been this shaken in a long time.
He glanced at his kids. “Well, I don’t want to intrude—”
“Please. There’s no such thing as intrusion in Burton on the Fourth of July. Everyone’s going to be milling around, visiting with their own families and other friends and neighbors.” Rilla bent over and spoke conspiratorially to the children. “There’s going to be a bunch of kids here, too. My daughter Piper is a little bit younger than you two, and Noah’s still a toddler. But Ali and Flynn have Bridget, and my cousin Courtney has a boy about your age, Oliver.”
“Bridget’s going to be here?” Becca’s eyes lit up. “Daddy, can we please stay?”
Linc chuckled. “They met Bridget last month at Meghan and Sam’s house, and the girls hit it off right away. Meghan’s been kind enough to let the kids come out on a fairly regular basis, since the farm is on the way to the job site. So they’ve all become buddies.”
“Then that decides it. You have to stay.” Rilla gave one definitive nod. “And you can sing for your supper, as it were, by hanging up the bunting Jenna was risking her life to attach. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” Linc stood on the first rung of the mini-ladder and looped the eye over the hook on his first try. I grimaced. Show off. Rilla clapped her hands.
“Wonderful. Now Jenna, do you mind if I run back home to help Mason finish getting the kids ready? I need to pick up my baked beans, too. I think all we have left here is setting out the plastic ware and the cups.”
“I’ve got that. See you in a bit.”
Rilla waved and took off down the grass toward where she’d left her car at my dad’s shop. I watched her go and then began to rummage through the bags, hunting for the rest of the supplies.
“Dad, can I go back and look at the horses? Please? I promise I won’t get too close or anything. I’ll just stand back and look.”
“Hmmm.” Linc rubbed his jaw. “It’s just around the block?”
“Uh huh.” Ollie nodded vigorously.
“Bec, do you mind walking over with him? Not that I don’t trust you, son. But there’re a lot of people in town, and I’d feel better if the two of you stuck together.”
Becca heaved an exaggerated sigh of long-suffering. “I guess, if I have to . . .”
“You do. But you have my undying gratitude for your sacrifice. I’ll never forget it.”
“Daddy, sometimes you are so lame.” Becca huffed a little, but she grabbed her brother by the arm. “Come on. Let’s go see these freaking horses. But we are staying far back, you hear, Ollie? Horses can be dangerous.”
I hid a smile, ripping open a bag of plastic forks. Linc ambled over and sat down on the bench that was attached to the picnic table.
“I hope you don’t mind.” He sprawled on the seat, stretching one arm along the table. “The kids and I crashing your family’s party, I mean.”
“Of course not.” I fussed with setting up the forks. “You’re all welcome. The more, the merrier. Our picnic is your picnic.”
He laughed. “Any other trite saying you want to toss my way?”
“No.” I shook my head. “But I really don’t mind at all. If you don’t, I mean. My family can be a little large and overwhelming. So buyer be
ware and all that.”
“Got it. But I don’t mind large and overwhelming. It’ll be good for my kids, too. They haven’t had a lot of interaction since we moved, aside from the visits to the Reynolds farm. They could use some people interaction.”
“Then they’re in luck. This is the place to find people, and lots of them.” I jammed a fistful of plastic spoons into a cup I was using as a makeshift holder. My hand was shaking just the tiniest bit. I hoped Linc wasn’t watching too closely. I’d been alone with him plenty of times before, but it had always been in a work environment, where we each had a role to play. Here, in the middle of the green, as the town began to come to life and prepare to celebrate, I felt strangely vulnerable.
And then there’d been what had happened when his hands had gripped my waist and held onto my hips. I hadn’t had that kind of reaction to a man—to anyone—ever. I let my memory slip back into the danger zone and consider Trent, how it had felt when he had touched me. Had there been the same heat? The same zing? I didn’t think so.
“Jenna, are you sure you’re okay?” Linc frowned at me. “Your cheeks are all flushed, and you were muttering to yourself.”
“Yes.” I stepped back. “Yes, thanks, I’m fine. Just thinking about what I still need to do. And sometimes when I think hard, I talk to myself.”
“Uh huh.” He nodded, watching me with a teasing light in his eyes. “Okay.”
“Do you think it’s too early for a beer?” I blurted out, wiping my hands on my denim shorts. “I mean, it is a holiday, right, and it’s so freaking hot out here.”
Linc cocked an eyebrow at me. “It’s just now ten o’clock, Jenna. But you do what you want.” He took a breath and then added, “I don’t drink, though. I’d take a bottle of water if you have one.”
I reached into the cooler and took out two bottles of water. Handing one to Linc, I dropped onto the bench about a foot and a half away from him, leaving plenty of space. “You don’t drink at all? I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”
“Why should you be sorry? And why would you know it? I don’t go around with a T-shirt that says, Hello, my name is Lincoln, I’m an alcoholic.”
“You are?” It seemed so far from possible that I stared at him, and I was pretty sure my mouth had dropped open.
“I am. Recovering, of course.” He took a long drink of the water, and I watched in fascination as his throat worked, swallowing, his huge Adam’s apple bobbing. “It’s not a very interesting story. After Sylvia was killed, life felt pretty pointless. I decided the best way to numb the pain was with whiskey, or with whatever I could drink that made me forget.”
“The kids?” I thought of those two sweet faces, alone and motherless, while their father drank away his grief.
“Left them with my in-laws. They were never in any danger—they were just without either parent for about six years.”
“Linc.” I reached across and touched his hand before I thought better of it. “I really am sorry. That whole time must have been excruciating.”
He stared at where my fingers met the back of his hand, but he didn’t move. “It was tough. But we all made it through, and I like to think I grew as a person.” He released a bark of laughter on a long breath. “Damn, I hope to hell I grew. Otherwise it was a long time wasted.”
I flattened my hand so that my palm pressed lightly over his hand. I felt the bumps of his knuckles against my soft and sensitive nerves. “Nothing is ever wasted if you lived through it.” I was echoing my therapist, although I wasn’t about to share that. One deep and dark secret shared at a time was plenty, I thought, although I suspected Linc’s alcoholism wasn’t anything he tried to hide. It simply hadn’t come up in our interaction up to this point. I hadn’t had occasion to offer him a drink until now.
Which reminded me. “I don’t usually drink much, either. I don’t know why I said what I did about the beer.”
“Please don’t feel like you can’t have a beer or some wine around me—or anything at all. It’s really okay. If I can’t deal with that kind of temptation, I have bigger problems.” He flipped his hand over so that now our palms were against each other. My heart began to pound, and I ran my tongue over my dry lips. I couldn’t tell if this was anxiety or pure, hot need.
“I’ll try to keep that in mind.” I spoke just above a whisper, afraid to break the spell.
“Jenna—” Linc leaned toward me a little, not breaking the contact between our hands. I looked up at him through my eyelashes and waited for him to continue.
“There you are, Jenna! Good heavens, it’s so hot already, I just about busted a blood vessel carrying this stuff from the car, and your father—” My mom stopped in mid-sentence and stared at me. And at Linc.
Without thinking how it might look, I yanked my hand away, holding it in my lap, and jumped to my feet. “Here, Mom. Let me take some of that. I thought Daddy was helping you tote all this over. Why didn’t you text me? I would’ve come to help.”
“I did try to call you, but it went right to voice mail.” My mother hadn’t moved yet.
“Sorry. It’s in my bag, and I think the ringer’s still turned off from work yesterday.” I set the hamper of food on the table and turned around, taking a deep breath. “Mom, this is Linc Turner. He’s the contractor from the Oak Grove project?” I sounded as though I was asking her instead of telling her, and annoyed with myself for being so wishy-washy, I shook my head. “I mean, he is. He and his kids were looking for a place to eat and watch the parade, and Rilla invited him to join us.”
“Well, isn’t that nice?” Mom moved finally, but her gaze stayed on Linc’s face. “Of course, you’re welcome to celebrate with us. We love to have more faces around the table.” She shrugged the heavy canvas bag off her shoulder and let it drop to the bench. “Will your wife be joining us?”
Astonishment spread over Linc’s face, and I could’ve gladly sunk into the ground and disappeared. My mother, who was the kindest, most gracious woman I knew, who would never hurt another soul if she could help it, had a pinched expression around her mouth and something dark in her eyes.
“Mom.” I ground out the word between clenched teeth. “What’s your problem?”
Linc had recovered enough to answer her. “Ah, my wife passed away six years ago, Mrs. Sutton. But my children are around here some place. They were looking for the horses that are going to be in the parade.”
My mom’s face turned the same color as the patriotic shirt she was wearing—minus the blue stars. “Oh my Lord,” she whispered. “I had no idea. I am so sorry. That was so rude of me. So thoughtless. I do apologize.”
“No apology necessary, ma’am.” He stood up, and I could see a line of tension in his shoulders. “Can I help you carry anything else? Any more trips from the car?”
“Ah, my husband is just now coming with the chairs, and he could likely use a hand. He’s just about a block that way, unloading a pickup truck that says ‘Boomer’s Auto Shop’ on the side.”
Linc sketched a salute and began a slow jog in the direction my mother had indicated. When he was out of range, she sank onto the bench. “Oh, my goodness. I have never been so embarrassed. I don’t know what came over me. That poor man.”
“Why on earth did you say that to him, Mom?” I sat down next to her. “You made it sound like an accusation of some sort. As though he was doing something wrong.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t know his wife was dead. You’d mentioned him to me, and you said he was older and had kids. I automatically assumed a wife. You didn’t say he was a widower.”
“Why would I? He’s someone I work with. I don’t give you the marital statuses and history of every person I meet through my job. Geez, Mom.”
She sat forward, grabbing for my hand. “It just threw me, because here I come walking up, and there you are, holding hands with a man I don’t know—”
“We weren’t holding hands, Mom. God.”
“Don’t cuss, Jenna. And it sure looked like i
t, from where I was standing, and then you jump up like I’d caught you with your hand in the cookie jar, and you introduce him as a man I’d assumed was married. So it wasn’t such a big leap for me to think I’d just found my daughter holding hands with a married man!”
“We weren’t holding hands!” I raised my voice and then thought better of it, glancing quickly down the sidewalk to make sure Linc and my dad weren’t nearby. “And honestly, Mom. What do you think of me? You jumped to the conclusion that I was messing around with a married man pretty dang fast. You’re my mother. Aren’t you supposed to believe the best of me?”
She wheeled on me, and words came tumbling out of her mouth faster than either of us expected. “Well, you can hardly blame me, all things considered!”
We both sat for a moment in stunned silence, and then I stood up. “I think I see Rilla and Mason. I’m going to help them with the kids.”
“Jenna. Wait—” My mother rose, too and reached for me. I shrugged her off and walked away.
IT TURNED OUT THAT THE Fourth of July in the town of Burton, Georgia, was the biggest ticket around. I couldn’t believe how crowded the square was, how many people were watching the parade with child-like rapture, and how much food was on just about every table. It reminded me a little bit of tailgating at a college football game, when fans tended to drift from vehicle to vehicle.
And it was an all-day affair. The kids and I had been downtown since that morning, and as the sun was beginning to set, the party was still going strong. Around the square, some people had broken out guitars, banjos and mandolins, and there were sing-alongs happening all over the place. I saw some heavier drinking going on, but for the most part, it was low-key; no one was falling down drunk. Yet, anyway.
Becca and Oliver were having the time of their young lives. My daughter was staying close, I’d noticed; she made sure I was in sight at all times, but she was enjoying herself with Bridget Evans. Since she’d been spending so much time out on the farm, I’d noticed that she’d begun to relax a little. There wasn’t quite so much fear. Ollie played a pick-up game of catch with a bunch of kids, between repeated trips back and forth to the food table.
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