Heck, as far she knew, he deleted each and every one without reading so much as a word. As far as she knew, he hadn’t thought of her once in the past several weeks.
She, of course, hadn’t stopped thinking about him. And she’d tried.
Antsy, Haley stood from her desk chair and stretched, and decided a coffee break was in order. She needed to work off some of this pent-up energy, and while they had plenty of coffee at the restaurant, she thought a walk to the Beanery would help in that regard.
She slipped out the back door, preferring not to engage in conversation with any of the customers or employees, or her family. While her brothers had stopped badgering her about her “mooning eyes,” they and her parents had picked up on her current state of moping. They were concerned, naturally, and had taken to hovering in her general vicinity whenever they could.
She loved them. Of course she did. But sometimes, as Gavin kept right on saying, a person did better on her own. Right now, for Haley, was one of those times.
Mostly because pretending to be happy or cheerful didn’t appeal, and she didn’t much feel like offering an explanation to her concerned parents or brothers. She was still processing, she guessed, still attempting to find an explanation that made sense. Without this understanding, she didn’t know how to proceed. Other than to wait and mope and send one email a day.
Being outside calmed her spirit, as it almost always did. She enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her shoulders, the touch of the breeze on her skin, the natural beauty all around her. And after being sequestered in her office for hours, the simple act of moving her body proved successful in easing some of her restlessness. She smiled here and there, to folks she passed on her path to the coffee shop. Said hi a time or two, as well.
When she arrived at the Beanery, she let herself in and glanced around the room. Most of the tables were filled, but the line was relatively short. Unlike the day she’d waited in line with Gavin and had confronted the standoffish woman. Unlike the day she’d been mesmerized by the mountain man, by his hair and eyes...by him. She gave herself a good, hard mental shake to clear her thoughts, the memory. She was here for coffee. Not for a stroll down memory lane.
The line moved quickly, and before she knew it, she was giving Lola her order. When Lola returned with Haley’s iced mocha, the older woman’s gaze narrowed. “You’re looking a bit pale, sweetie. Coming down with something or just on the tired side today?”
“Oh, tired, I guess,” Haley responded, handing Lola her credit card. “Midday slump.”
“Well, the caffeine will give you a jolt, I’m sure,” Lola said with a laid-back smile as she rang up the purchase. “By the way, Gavin was in here the other day, with more of those flyers. I take it that partnership idea of yours never got up and running?”
“He― What?” Finding her equilibrium, she shook her head. “No, that idea never went anywhere. So, ah, Gavin was in here, huh? How―how did he look? Did he seem happy?”
Heavily mascaraed lashes dipped in an exaggerated blink. “Well, I don’t rightly know. He looked the same as before, I suppose. Though...now that I think back, he might have had the same tired, pinched and pale expression I noticed on you.”
Taking that in, Haley nodded, and tried to convince herself that Gavin being tired didn’t mean anything. Likely, he’d been working hard, filling up those precious hours of his to their fullest. Yeah, likely that. The possibility existed, though, that he’d appeared tired due to lack of sleep. She hadn’t slept well lately. Too many thoughts of Gavin running amok in her head.
Feeling the weight of Lola’s curious gaze, Haley forced a grin. “Well, I know he’s been busy with getting everything up and running. I’m sure he’s fine.”
Lola snorted and slid Haley’s credit card across the counter. “I’m sure he’s fine, too. As fine as you, no doubt.” Then, with a casual nod toward the far wall, she said, “He altered the flyer some. There’s one on the bulletin board, if you’re in the mind of seeing what he’s done.”
“Um, yeah. Think I’ll take a look.” Heart beating a mile a minute, legs wobbly and loose, Haley made her way across the room, still feeling the weight of Lola’s gaze. She stopped in front of the bulletin board, searched for and located Gavin’s flyer almost immediately.
Easy to recognize that he’d put some work into the visual appeal, to the layout itself. He’d added a few more lines of information, regarding equipment—he’d arrange for rentals, if necessary—as well as a more complete listing of his services and certifications, experience. It was a good, solid step up from the other flyer.
Now, if it were up to her, she’d add a photo of Gavin, maybe one or two shots of the area, trim some of the wordiness and print the flyer in color, on a glossy, heavier stock. The layout was solid, though, and she thought he’d done a darn good job. She turned to leave when an idea struck. Stopped and faced the bulletin board again. Stood there for a while, thinking.
Biting her bottom lip, she debated with herself, considered how much she just might irritate Gavin if she moved forward with her idea. Enough, possibly, that he’d seek her out to express his irritation. And no, her goal wasn’t to upset him, but her emails weren’t eliciting any response whatsoever. This...well, she thought this plan of hers would, if nothing else, put them in the same room. Allow her another opportunity to gain some understanding.
An understanding she desperately wanted.
Well, then. Decision made, Haley returned to the counter and waited in line once again. When she reached the front, she smiled at Lola. “Any chance that Gavin left more of those flyers with you? I’d like one or two, if so. Just for, um, informational purposes.”
“Informational purposes, huh?” Lola asked, chuckling. “He did leave a handful for me to give to folks who might ask. Guess you fit in that category, since you’re asking.”
Five minutes later, Haley had two of Gavin’s updated flyers tucked safely into her purse and she was on her way back to the restaurant. What she planned on shouldn’t require too much time or effort to pull off. The end result might actually prove beneficial to Gavin’s business. But that...well, that wouldn’t matter since her plan also involved butting in where she wasn’t wanted. The thought left her somewhat queasy. Didn’t change her mind, though.
Something had to happen. And this was definitely something.
After she’d redesigned his flyers and spread them around town, once he’d realized what she’d done, she fully expected that Gavin would be irritated enough to come looking for her. Irritated enough to push past this self-erected wall of his.
And then, after he let off whatever steam he’d built up, she’d try to get some answers.
* * *
Working hard, especially working hard outside, was Gavin’s go-to fix for just about any ill that might be bothering him. So ever since the night Haley had driven off, Gavin had been hard at work. In the house. Outside on his property. At the hardware store. On his business. And yup, he’d accomplished a hell of a lot. More, actually, then he’d have thought possible in just over a month’s time. What the hard work hadn’t done was give him any amount of peace.
Sleep had been difficult to come by, as well.
That woman had dug in deep, and despite his attempts, despite working his butt off every waking minute of every damn day, he couldn’t seem to shake her loose. Course, those emails of hers didn’t help any, didn’t do a darn thing except keep her front and center in his head. And now...now, she’d gone and made her move, and he was, at once, smoking mad and...and grateful, maybe even a little pleased. And those last two just made him madder.
At the moment, he was focusing all of his energies on the mad.
Well, that and the ugly green carpeting in the living room. He crouched in a corner and, using a pair of pliers, tugged a section of the carpet free from the tack strip. When the corner was complete,
he moved a few inches down the wall and repeated his actions. Pulling up carpeting didn’t rank high on Gavin’s list of favorite tasks, but the somewhat slow, methodical work gave him a chance to think, to consider how to best handle this flyer situation.
Four days ago, he’d stopped in at the Beanery to check in with Lola, to discover if any of her customers had asked about the flyers he’d dropped off. He noticed right away that the one he’d created was no longer on the bulletin board, replaced by a...well, a better, more polished version of his. He knew, instantly and without a doubt, that Haley was responsible.
And now... Now, those flyers of hers were all over the damn place.
Everywhere he went—even to his own job, for crying out loud—he’d see another. For the first few days, whenever he came across one, he’d replace it with one of his. But that stubborn woman began pulling the exact same maneuver on him. Since he didn’t have the strength to engage in what could, and likely would, become a never-ending battle of wills, he’d stopped.
He’d almost stormed over to the bar to remind her of what she shouldn’t need reminding of—that he didn’t require her help, that he preferred to tend to his own business and that she needed to stop barging in, regardless of how good her intentions were. Luckily, his better sense kicked in and he’d managed to stick with his self-imposed no-contact rule.
Besides which, he figured she expected him to pay her a visit. Most folks would, either due to frustration or gratitude. And that was what had him all fired up today.
Her flyers had already brought in several queries from potential customers. Several more, as a matter of fact, than any of his advertising had. He had a few hiking trips scheduled for later in the week as a direct result, along with a couple of other possibilities.
If this kept up, he’d easily match his current salary at the hardware store. If it got any better on a consistent basis, he’d be able to quit his job there, which had been his plan—more like his hope, he supposed—from the beginning.
Good, yes. For his business and for his other goals, for getting the house and his property where they needed to be, so he could start the process of turning this place into a camp for foster kids and learning what would be required for that to happen.
To his way of thinking, all of this meant he owed Haley a thank-you. Really, though, wouldn’t thanking her for something she shouldn’t have done in the first place just spur her to do more of the same? And thanking her would still require putting himself in her presence. The entire situation had him this-close to yanking his hair out of his head.
Gavin yanked out another section of carpet instead, swore under his breath and, when that didn’t relieve any of his tension, swore louder. But he kept thinking as he worked his way around the room, loosening every inch of carpet, as he began cutting the carpet into sections, and by the time he was finally pulling the carpeting free from the padding, he’d found a solution.
Chances were sky-high his solution would send Haley into another spitting-mad fit, but she’d started this friggin’ mess, so he didn’t allow himself to worry over that.
Much, anyway.
He hauled the discarded squares of carpeting to the bed of his truck to dispose of later. With that accomplished, he began lifting the carpet padding, being careful not to harm the hardwood floor—pine, he believed, wide-planked—beneath.
In an odd way, he almost wished he could see Haley’s expression when she realized how he’d decided to handle this situation. Wondered briefly if she had another trick up her sleeve, some other scheme ready to go, or if she’d finally give up and go on about her life.
She should give up, in his opinion. For both of their sakes.
Heavy and sad, missing a woman he had no right to miss, Gavin stopped what he was doing and closed his eyes. Fought with the very real desire to get into his truck, drive over to Foster’s and ask—no, beg—Haley for another chance...for her friendship, if nothing else.
He was still sitting there, still mulling over the idea, still trying to convince himself he’d made the right choice—the only possible choice—when he heard a knock. Insistent and sharp and loud. Whoever was on his front porch, they were bound and determined to snag his attention.
“Idiot,” he whispered as he pulled himself to his feet. “It isn’t her. Can’t be her.”
Within the few seconds it took to cross the room, to approach the door, his brain turned to mush and he decided if Haley stood on his front porch, he’d stop fighting so hard. If she had chosen to visit him at the same moment he had been thinking of her, missing her, then he didn’t see how he could do anything but let her in. Sometimes, a man had to know when to surrender.
He opened the door, almost believing he would indeed find Haley on the other side. Instead, he found the only other woman on the face of the earth who held the power to hurt him. Hell, destroy him. And this woman had done both on more than one occasion.
“Hello, Gavin,” his mother said, her voice soft and tentative. “It’s so good to see you.”
Shocked, he stared at her. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here because you live here, and I miss you. And you won’t talk to me whenever I call.” Her eyes, a bluer shade than Gavin’s, were steady and serious. “I’m not expecting you to welcome me with open arms. But I’m here now, for a while. I’ve found a studio apartment in the center of town. One of those short-term rentals.”
Good. She wasn’t planning on staying in his house. He’d have let her, because despite everything else, Vanessa Daugherty remained his mother. But for the few days or week or however long she’d be around, having her in his home would’ve caused far too much discomfort.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” he said, coolly and matter-of-factly.
“Probably not, but here I am.” Her chin lifted in stubbornness, reminding him of Haley, and that grated. These two women were nothing alike. “Will you invite me in?”
“Don’t think I will. Not today.” Now that his shock was wearing off some, he took a harder look at her. She was slender, as always, but not bone-frail thin. Her eyes were clear and bright, her complexion smooth, and he hadn’t noticed any slurring through her little speech there. All of which seemed positive. Even so, he had to ask, “You’re still sober, I take it?”
“Have been for over three years now, Gavin.” Sighing, she ruffled her fingers through her shoulder-length brown hair. “I haven’t had a drink for closer to four.”
Longest she’d ever gone, to his knowledge. By a good two years or so. Didn’t matter. Too late for them to repair anything, but he was...glad for her, hoped the status quo remained. He didn’t say any of this, of course. No reason to give hope where there was none.
What he did say, all he could say, was, “That sounds healthy.”
“I think so, and—” She darted her gaze away from his and a slight tremble shook her shoulders. “I understand why it’s difficult for you to believe I’ve finally done what I promised I’d do for so long. I understand, too, that forgiving me for all of my...mistakes might never happen. I just want the chance to prove myself.”
Her words, her tone, were all sincere and heartfelt. But they always were, every time she said them. Had she thought about him at all throughout those years, when he was being shuffled from one foster home to the next? Or how, at six years old, he’d already learned to hold her head in such a way that she wouldn’t choke on her own vomit?
If she had, if she’d ever considered the damage she had done to him, she’d never said so. Nope, what his mother did was clump all of those messy little details together into neat, sterile, nonspecific terms and phrases. They were always her “mistakes,” and “bad years” and “slipups.” But Gavin remembered the messy details. Every damn one of them.
“I can’t have this conversation now,” he said in a measured, calm manner. Inside, though, he
hurt. From the memories, yes. Also, though, from the echoes of the little boy he’d once been. A boy who’d loved his mother, who’d wanted nothing more than for her to love him enough to get better. And stay better. “How long are you in the area?”
“I’ve paid for three months.” She reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope, which she then handed over. “The address is in there. I’ll be there―here―when you’re ready.”
Three months? “And if that doesn’t happen? If I’m never ready?”
“I’ll keep waiting.” Tears filled her eyes. “And I’ll let you decide when—if—you’re ready to talk without any interference on my end. I love you, Gavin.” Without pausing to see if he’d return the endearment, she pivoted on her heel and stepped off the porch.
Feeling as if he’d just taken multiple one-two punches to the head, Gavin shut the front door. For the past several years, he’d steered far and wide from his mother. She’d always known how to reach him, where to find him, because that was the right—the responsible—way to behave. But she’d never before packed up her life to chase after him, even on a temporary basis. Not once. Now, though, she had. It was a change. Something different from before.
But was that reason enough to justify another chance? Maybe.
If he had the ability, the strength, to accept the result, even if that meant a repeat of the past—then yes, maybe. But he didn’t know that he did have the ability or the strength. Didn’t know that he ever would. So, for now, the smartest action was to hold steady.
Folding the envelope from his mother in half, he shoved it into his back pocket and returned to the living room to finish the job he’d started. He had zero desire to look in the envelope, to learn where this short-term studio apartment was located. No reason to have that knowledge. At least, not unless he changed his mind.
Haley. He’d been way too close to giving in, to driving over there, to asking for her forgiveness and another chance. Ironic, that. Seeing how that was exactly what his mother had just done to him. This realization steeled his resolve, his determination. Yes, the smartest action on all fronts was to remain steady and unflinching.
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