Mending Places

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Mending Places Page 13

by Hunter, Denise

Keith cursed. “Isn’t that why we’re here?”

  Natalie watched her fingers fold the tissue, then unfold it. She avoided Jim’s eyes. He was a Christian; what must he think of Keith with his belligerent attitude and filthy mouth?

  “You’ve admitted to having an affair, yet Natalie seems to know little about the details,” Jim said. “Are you willing to answer her questions?”

  Keith shifted in his chair. “Depends on what she wants to know.”

  “Natalie?” Jim turned the floor over to her.

  Oh, God, it’s time to learn the truth. I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it. I don’t know if I can bear to know the details. She wiped away the tears that began flowing down her face. “I—I guess I want to know who it is. I need to know who it is.”

  Jim looked at Keith.

  Keith crossed his arms again. “I already told you. You don’t know her.”

  “Does she work at the bank? Live in the neighborhood? Work at the coffee shop? Tell me! I deserve to know that much, don’t I?” The words scalded her throat.

  He pressed his lips together. “She works at the bank.”

  His words sliced her heart, left an awful empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. He’s been with her every day for how long? Spending more time with her than me! There was no stopping the tears now.

  “How long?” she asked when she could talk again. “How long has this been going on?” She steeled herself for the answer.

  “I don’t know, awhile.”

  Anger nipped at her. “Awhile? How long is that? A few months? A year? How long?”

  “Since around Christmas, all right?”

  She sucked in a breath. Shock tumbled through her midsection in waves. Then the ache. The ache that had filled her to varying degrees for the last six weeks. “She’s been working there for six months? You’ve been cheating for six months? How could you, Keith? How could you live with yourself? How could you face me, face the boys every night?”

  “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  “Well, it did! It did, and look where it’s left us! Our marriage is in shambles.”

  She’d almost forgotten Jim’s presence until he spoke. “Is there anything else you’d like to ask, Natalie?”

  Her breaths came in gulps. She wiped her eyes and nose. She had dozens of questions, but none more important than this. “Are you in love with her?” The words squeaked from her throat. Please, Lord, no.

  “I don’t know.” Keith raked a hand through his hair. “I’m confused. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  The answer both relieved and scared her. She bit her quivering lip until it stilled. “Do you still love me?”

  “I don’t know!” His voice was fraught with frustration.

  How could he not know? Haven’t I been a faithful wife? Haven’t I taken care of him, cooked for him, done his laundry for seven years?

  “Keith, why don’t you tell us your side of the story?”

  He looked at the ceiling as if for help, then studied his loafers. “Lindsey came to work for me late last year, part-time. She’s a teller. One day she needed a ride home, and we started talking. Nothing big, just small talk. But I liked her. She listened when I talk, really listened.” He shot Natalie a look as if comparing her unfavorably.

  Natalie’s stomach clenched with pain. I’d listen, too, if only you’d talk to me!

  “I started giving her rides home sometimes, began to enjoy her company, anticipating the time we’d have together. We weren’t doing anything wrong, just talking.”

  Jim interrupted. “At some point that changed?”

  Keith scratched the back of his neck. “Around Christmastime I was taking her home. She told me how she felt. Somehow … somehow that changed everything. My feelings grew over the months until I wasn’t sure who I loved anymore.” He looked at Natalie, really looked at her, for the first time since they’d walked in the door. “I’m sorry, Nat. I never meant for this to happen.”

  She wept. Covering her face with her hands, the hurt poured from her in wracking sobs. Why? Why? Why have you done this to us? I love you! How could you do this? She struggled to pull herself together.

  Jim handed her another tissue to replace the limp, shredded one in her hand. She wiped her face and tried to swallow the achy lump in her throat.

  “You’re both here,” Jim said. “You want to fix your marriage?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  Keith crossed his ankle over his knee. “I don’t know what I want.”

  “Fair enough,” Jim said. “Let’s talk about your marriage.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Hanna started the 4x4 and pulled out of the bank’s parking lot. She was thankful she’d been able to avoid Keith and relieved that she was able to make the June payment on their loan. There wasn’t much money left in their account, only enough to cover the necessities. What if the refrigerator broke down or one of the water heaters needed to be replaced? Operating on a week-by-week basis was scary. But what could she do about the cancellations?

  The phone call she’d received from that Realtor flashed in her mind. Her client had wanted to buy Higher Grounds. Could that person somehow be behind this?

  As she drove back to the lodge, she tried to jog her memory. What was the agent’s name? She couldn’t remember, hadn’t paid much attention since she wasn’t interested in selling.

  Maybe someone was starting rumors about the lodge to scare customers away. Or maybe someone was luring them away somehow. But how would they know who had reservations?

  You really ought to keep this office door locked. Micah’s words haunted her. There’s a lucrative market for office equipment. A former guest could make a copy of your entry key and rip you off.

  Had someone done just that? Stayed as a guest, made a copy of the entry key, and come back to steal her customer files? It was possible, and if that’s what had happened, she had made it easy. How could she have been so naive? She made a mental note to call a locksmith.

  This afternoon was Gram’s doctor appointment, and Hanna’s heart clenched at the thought. The test results wouldn’t be available immediately, she was sure, but this was a start. Lord, help them find what’s wrong, and give us all the strength to cope with whatever it is.

  When she pulled into the lodge’s parking lot, she saw Micah tinkering with his motorcycle. She pulled into the space next to his and walked around the 4×4. He was revving the engine, an open box of tools at his feet.

  “Problems?” she asked.

  He stopped revving the engine. “It’s making a noise. Not sure what It is.”

  “What kind of noise?”

  Looking her in the eye, he said, “That’s right. You’re the resident mechanic.” Hope clung to his solemn face. “It’s a knocking noise. Seemed loud when I was driving earlier, but when I gave it gas just now, I could hardly hear it. You familiar with Honda cycles?”

  She smiled. “I cut my teeth on them. Dad used to collect bikes.” She listened as he revved the motor again. “It could be the bearings,” she said over the noise. “I’d have to take a ride to know for sure.”

  He let off the gas. “Oh. Well … I don’t know …” Finally his gaze settled on the helmet. “I only have one helmet.”

  It was an excuse, she knew. He didn’t want her on the back of his bike, snuggled against him. She smothered a smirk. “I’ll ride without one; we won’t go far.” She helped him put his tools away.

  “Look, you don’t have to. I can take it apart and check it out.”

  “Don’t be silly. If it’s the bearings, I’ll be able to tell in just a few minutes.” She hopped on the back of the bike while he set his toolbox aside.

  He took the helmet off the cycle and handed it to her. “You can have it.”

  She fastened the helmet while he straddled the seat in front of her. His body leaned forward at an unnatural angle.

  He turned the bike around, and off they went. Micah settled into a more natural position as they
leaned into the turn onto the main road. Hanna slipped her arms around his waist. She felt him stiffen at her touch. His sides felt hard beneath the cotton T-shirt, and she resisted the urge to lay her palms flat against him. Her arms ached to tighten, to hold him against her. When had she ever felt such a yearning for a man’s touch?

  Never. And it wasn’t just physical attraction. She had almost daily contact with young men, customers who came and went, and she’d never felt this way. Even Devon was handsome, well built, but she wasn’t attracted to him. No, it wasn’t just physical with Micah. She liked the whole package, inside and out.

  When he accelerated, she leaned into his back to shield her face from the wind. His shoulders were broad and high, topping her head by an inch or two. Heat radiated from his back and through her blouse. She shivered. Oh, God, what a fine specimen of a man You’ve made.

  Micah struggled to keep his mind on the road. It was hard with Hanna pressed up against his back. How could an innocent touch do so much to my insides? She shifted her arms, and his insides twisted. Ah, sweet agony. What would it be like to have her as his own? To hold her, kiss her whenever he felt the desire? He ached for more.

  Knock it off, Gallagher. He gripped the handlebars with tight fists. Think about something else. Something other than her hands lying against your ribs, her arms wrapped around you. His heart tripped. Lord, have mercy.

  “It’s getting louder; hear it?”

  What, my heart?

  “I’m pretty sure it’s …” the wind carried away her words.

  He turned his head to hear better. “What?”

  “It’s the bearings,” she said, her lips near his ear. “The knocking is getting louder because the engine is getting hot.”

  That’s not the only thing that’s getting hot.

  “Put on the brake and free the clutch.”

  He did.

  “Yep. Better head back, shouldn’t be riding on it this way.”

  He did a U-turn and headed back to the lodge. Gladly.

  Every inch was maddening. What he would have done in his earlier days … pulled off the road, found a nice secluded spot …

  Don’t go there. His intention to avoid a relationship had never seemed so exasperating.

  He pulled into the lot and swung the bike into the shaded parking space. The shadowed air offered immediate relief from the sun’s heat. When Hanna hopped off the bike, his body sagged with relief.

  “If you’ve caught it early,” she said, “you’ll only need to change the bearings.”

  “But if I haven’t, the crankshaft will need replacing.”

  “Right.” She handed him his helmet.

  He went for his tools, opening the box and laying out what he’d need.

  “Need any help?”

  “Nope. I can handle it. Thanks.” The last thing he needed was her tempting presence.

  She stood there watching, and every cell in his body was aware of her. Aware of her denim-encased legs inches away. Aware of her stare burning his skin. He wiped away the trickle of sweat that coursed down his forehead.

  “Did you need something else?” he asked.

  She waited until he looked her in the eye. “Why do you keep doing that?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Pretending you don’t feel it.”

  He gathered his tools and hunkered down by his bike. “Feel what?”

  “This … thing between us.”

  He began disassembling the bike, cringing when his distracted mind made him reach for the wrong tool. “You’re a woman. I’m a man. It’s no big deal.”

  Itty bits of gravel crunched as she sat down on the pavement close beside him. Too close. “You feel this with every woman?” Her voice teemed with amusement.

  He peeked at her. Couldn’t resist. It was going to be a quick look, just to read her face, but he couldn’t stop there. Once he saw how close she was, saw the mirth in her eyes, the warmth in her cheeks, the little smile tilting her lips, he didn’t want to look away. Couldn’t look away. The stirring started again in his gut, clenching and churning in a head-spinning dance of emotion. She was so tempting. Too tempting.

  He forced his eyes away. He didn’t want to go there. Would never go there. “Look, maybe I should just explain the way it is. I’m never getting married.” He enforced his words with his eyes. “And we both know physical intimacy outside of marriage is wrong. So there’s really no point in dating or relationships. That would just lead a woman to believe something that’s not true.”

  Her cheeks colored at his words. “Why not?”

  “Why not what?”

  “Why don’t you want to marry?”

  “Why—” He’d never had to answer that one. Had never been asked. “I have my reasons. Just consider me like Paul.” He jumped all over the excuse. “He remained single all his life. I’m going to do the same.” He tossed a tool back in the box.

  “What a waste.”

  His eyes darted to hers, and he blushed. Sassy woman.

  He took advantage of her silence. “So, if you want to know the truth, yes, I do feel something with you.”

  She looked at him, and her lips parted to speak.

  “But,” he said, before she could say anything. “It’s not going anywhere. I don’t want it to go anywhere, so it’d be best if we just kept things on a professional level.” He returned his attention to his bike, but he couldn’t help wondering what was going on behind those beguiling eyes.

  Hanna watched Micah take apart the bike, assessing his words, deciphering his meaning. Why would a perfectly healthy male want no part of the female species? Especially when there were such sparks between the two of them. Such promise.

  Maybe Natalie was right when she suggested he might have had a bad relationship. Or maybe his parents had a bad relationship, and he’d decided he wanted—

  No, that can’t be right. He had a foster father, which meant that both parents had been out of the picture. But for how long? And did that have something to do with his decision to remain single?

  Maybe someday she’d know him well enough to ask. But how could she get to know him if he didn’t want her company. He was gone on treks most of the time, and when he was here, he didn’t—

  An idea blossomed in her mind, one that brought hope to her heart and a smile to her lips.

  Hanna was checking the wording of her brochure when the phone rang. “Higher Grounds, may I help you?”

  “Hi, Hanna, it’s Nat.”

  “I’ve been waiting to hear from you.” She walked into the office for privacy. “How’d your session go?”

  Her sister sighed. “Well, I know it’s someone at the bank. And I know it’s been going on since Christmas.”

  Hanna’s stomach tightened. “Oh, Nat, that must be so hard.”

  “I’ve had a few days to get used to it, but—” Her sister resumed only when she seemed to have collected herself. “It’s hard knowing that every day when he goes to work he’s with her. He wouldn’t commit to ending it. And he was resistant to the idea of continuing therapy.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I made another appointment for next week. I don’t know if Keith will show up or not, but I need it. I need someone to help me deal with these emotions. Someone who knows what I’m supposed to do, how I’m supposed to win my husband back.”

  Hanna suppressed the desire to belittle Keith. It wouldn’t do Natalie any good to hear her opinion of Keith. Her sister went into the specifics of the counseling session, breaking down twice more.

  When the other line rang, Hanna decided not to interrupt her sister, but Natalie heard it ringing and insisted she answer it.

  On the other line was a man who wanted to make reservations for the entire next week. Taking reservations, especially for weeklong stays, always delighted her. She went to the front desk and marked the reservation on the books, then hung up the phone.

  A family entered the lodge, each toting suitcases and duffel bags. T
hey clustered around the front desk, and she checked them in. The oldest boy read the dry-erase board announcing the guided mountain-trek schedule and pointed it out to his parents.

  “I didn’t realize you offered anything like this,” Mrs. Nettleworth said.

  “It’s a new service we’re offering guests, and it’s been very popular so far. Would you like to sign up for a trip?”

  They discussed the cost and difficulty of each climb before deciding on the Mount Moran trip, which began the following Monday. Hanna smothered a grin as she found the appropriate clipboard and saw there were already five signed up for the climb.

  She handed the clipboard to Mrs. Nettleworth. “Just sign your names and ages.”

  Micah passed the desk, presumably on his way to dinner.

  “The trip leaves Monday morning at seven,” Hanna said. “And there’s a meeting the night before at seven to pack the backpacks and discuss climbing techniques and safety.”

  Micah, nearly to the dining room, turned and ambled back to the desk.

  The woman handed her the clipboard, and she felt Micah’s gaze over her shoulder.

  “I’ll just bill the trip to your room, if that’s okay with you.”

  Mrs. Nettleworth agreed, then the family disappeared around the corner with their luggage in a clamor of chatter.

  “Hanna, can I have a word with you?”

  “Sure.” She turned expectantly, only to see Micah eyeing the couple talking on the couch and Mrs. Eddlestein dusting the bookshelves.

  “In the office?” he said.

  She led the way and shut the door behind him. He wore a navy T-shirt that called attention to his muscular arms when he crossed them over his chest.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “You signed those people up for the Mount Moran trip. It’s overbooked. I can’t take on six more people.” He had those twin lines between his brows and several days of stubble that accentuated his square jaw.

  “I thought I would go along again.”

  Skepticism and opposition flared in his expression. He looked away, then drilled her with his gaze. He was reading her. She tilted up her chin ever so slightly and met his look with defiance. He didn’t want her to go. She didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that. But she was the boss, and if he didn’t like it—

 

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