A Marriage-Minded Man

by Karen Templeton

  “I was scared, Tess. That’s it, bottom line. I was terrified out of my skull.”

  “Of what? Me? That’s—”

  “Hell, yeah, you. I had no idea it was possible to feel so strongly about somebody at, what were we? Seventeen? And I couldn’t deal with it. So I snapped.”

  For a moment—barely—he thought he saw a glimmer of sympathy in her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, Eli, it wasn’t like I expected us to get married or anything.”

  “Logic didn’t even enter into it,” he said, getting to his feet. “All I knew was, things were happening way too fast, and I wasn’t even remotely ready. And I had no earthly idea how to tell you that.”

  She glanced away, like she was trying to process this. But when she looked back, the sympathy had gone buh-bye. “And somehow this translated into going after Amy Higgins?”

  Cripes, it was like having a conversation with two different people. He half expected to see her eyes glow red.

  “It was sorta the other way around, truth be told. I swear,” he said when she huffed out a sharp laugh. “But it never felt right. We broke up, like, a month later—”

  “Yeah. I remember. I also seem to remember you recovered from her quickly enough, too. And the one that followed. And the one that followed after that—”

  “Didn’t take you long to hook up with Enrique, either, as I recall.”

  She flinched, and Eli finally got it, that this wasn’t only about the two of them. That somebody else far more recently than him had hurt her, too—

  “Actually, it was more than a year,” she said in that wind-outta-her-sails voice.

  And once more Eli happened to be in the line of fire, just like he’d been the other night.

  “But from everything I heard,” she said, “your pace sure didn’t slow down any—”

  “You were away for several years, don’t forget.”

  “True. But when I returned…well, let’s just say the broken heart trail didn’t seem to be in danger of stopping anytime soon. Oh, come on, Eli,” Tess said, revving up again, “you know you can’t go anywhere in this town without running into somebody hot to tell you the latest, good or bad. And people have long memories, especially those well-meaning souls eager to assure me—even after all this time—I was better off without you, that the boy who skipped on me just kept on skipping, from one chick to another like rocks in a creek.”

  Her words pelted him like sleet, stinging all the more because they were truer than he wanted to admit, inflicting enough pain to make him say, “Wow—you must’ve been really out of it to end up in my bed.”

  Color flared in her cheeks. “Already established that,” she muttered, this time making it all the way to the door, and Eli wondered if he’d ever learn to think before he spoke.

  “It’s okay, I completely understand,” he called after her. “But if you get desperate, you know where to find me.”

  After one final, flummoxed glance, Tess walked out, slamming the door shut behind her.

  Which Eli stared at for a lot longer than he should’ve probably, but the feeling-like-dirt feeling had come back with a vengeance, clobbering him upside the head over and over and over. Because no matter which way you looked at it, Tess was right. If not about all of it, about enough to completely justify her attitude. Because he had hurt her, he hadn’t bothered to tell her why and he’d definitely provided plenty of fuel for the gossip mill these past several years. So from where he was sitting, he had some serious atoning to do. And some lame “I’m sorry, I’m not that man anymore” wasn’t gonna cut it—somehow he had to prove to Tess he’d changed.

  For his own peace of mind, if nothing else.

  Mulling that over, Eli trudged back to work, letting himself get caught up in his tasks until, maybe two hours later, the phone rang.

  And yeah, he might’ve smiled for a second when he saw the caller ID, relishing the victory. Except underneath the relishing, something else kinda hummed. Like the sound from those overhead wires they said messed with your brain or something.

  “Garrett’s—”

  “Fine, so you win. I’ve called every carpenter within fifty miles, and there’s nobody else available unless I want to bring in somebody from Albuquerque, and no way are the Harrises gonna fork over the extra cash for that. So when can you meet me at the house to give me an estimate?”

  “You sure do cut to the chase, don’t you?”

  “The groveling stings less that way.”

  Eli chuckled. “In an hour good for you?”

  “That’s fine. Long as you don’t mind the kids being with me.”

  The humming got louder. “Not at all,” he said, looking out the wood-dust-coated window. Telling himself he was strong enough to avoid that particular pull. That if he wanted an opportunity to prove himself, this couldn’t be a better one. He smiled. “Especially since you clearly need a chaperone. Or two.”

  “Bite me,” she said and hung up.

  Chapter Five

  An hour gave Tess just enough time to pick up her kids and put her pride back in the dungeon where it belonged. Umbrage was all well and good in its place, but it had no place in business. And business was what this was all about, she thought when Eli knocked on the house’s open door, the dog bounding inside ahead of him.

  And only what it was about.

  “Cool!” Miguel said, immediately on his knees to hug the dog. “What’s his name?”

  “Micky! Be careful—!”

  “It’s okay, he loves kids,” Eli said, then gave Micky a half smile. “And his name’s Blue. I’m Eli.”

  One eye on the dog and Julia balanced on one hip, Tess literally met Eli halfway, in the middle of the musty, mud-colored carpeted living room. But before she could open her mouth, Eli said, “You really okay with this?”

  “I’m…” A smile tugged at her mouth. “Getting there. In any case, I’ve had lots of practice making the best of a bad situation.”

  With a soft laugh, Eli headed for the kitchen, clipboard in hand. “Good to know. Because I’d hate to mess up the whole symbiotic thing we’ve got going on here.”

  “Symbiotic?”

  “Yeah, you know, when each entity needs the other to survive?” At her poleaxed look, he grinned. “Mom was one of those word-a-day freaks. Her two goals, when we were kids, were making sure we knew the right way to hold a fork and force-feeding us a whole bunch of ten-dollar words. Because God forbid anybody take us for hicks,” he said, carefully opening a kitchen cabinet door about to fall off its hinges, then brushing dust from his hands. “Yep, place looks about as bad as I remember.”

  From the living room, Tess could hear Miguel chattering to Blue. Hiking a squirmy Julia higher on her hip, she glanced through the doorway to see her son perched on the edge of the raised hearth, the dog sitting in front of him with his head cocked—

  “You’ve been here before?” she said, Eli’s words sinking in.

  “Yep.” Leaving the door ajar, Eli squatted to inspect one of the lower cupboards. “Used to come over now and again to check up on Charley after he started going downhill.”

  “Huh. Fred didn’t mention that little detail.”

  “Not sure he knew about it, to be honest,” Eli said, straightening to make notes on the clipboard. “Dad did, mostly, but I’d stop by once a week or so. Bring Charley a stuffed sopapilla from Ortega’s. Or a beef and potato burrito. Man, he did love those. Grinned like nobody’s business the minute I’d unwrap it—”

  “Down!” Julia screeched. “Down, down, down!”

  Realizing she and Eli would never be able to hear each other if she didn’t give in, Tess lowered the child to the dusty tile floor; immediately she zoomed off to join her big brother. Eli glanced over, his expression…odd.

  “Sorry,” Tess said. “What she lacks in vocabulary she makes up for in volume.”

  “And earnestness.”

  “That, too. My little toughie.”

  “Like her mother,” he said, opening anot
her door. “And that was a compliment, so don’t go gettin’ all bent out of shape.”

  She smirked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Wandering away to keep an eye on her little hooligans, their high voices echoing in the empty space, she shook her head. “I just wonder why Charley’s kids didn’t get him out of here sooner.”

  “You’d have to ask them that. Although I think you can guess.” When she turned, Eli rubbed his thumb and fingers together. “As in, they didn’t want to see their potential inheritance dwindle by spending it on their own father. Fortunately, he never got too bad—never wandered down Main Street naked or anything. And he always knew who Dad and I were. It was just…It was like he was in a dream. In his own little world.”

  “Still,” Tess said, facing her kids again. “That’s so sad. To think…” She shook her head.

  “If it makes you feel better—” she heard Eli’s metal tape measure rattle across the countertop “—I don’t think he was unhappy. Or lonely. But I know what you mean. I can’t imagine leaving my folks to the mercy of whoever happened to be available.”

  “I couldn’t do that to Flo, either.”

  The tape measure snapped back. “Still on the outs with your mom, then?”

  “She has her life, I have mine,” Tess said softly, her heart swelling with love for those hooligans even as old hurts tried to wind themselves around it.

  “She sees her grandkids, though, right?”

  “Once in a blue moon, maybe. She’s…not much of a kid person.”

  In the empty room, Julia let out one of her belly laughs, probably at something her brother did. Tess nearly jumped when Eli’s hand landed on her shoulder—bzzzt—for an instant before he swept past her out of the room. “Okay, that’s it for in here,” he said as Tess told herself she didn’t miss his touch. Really. “Let’s go check out the bathroom. No telling how bad that must be by now—”

  “I got Blue to sit, Eli!” Miguel said, accosting the poor man the instant he hit the living room, as he was wont to do with every male he met these days. Sensing the void, Tess supposed, left by his rarely-there father, their infrequent visits infected both with the boy’s wary neediness and his father’s discomfort or guilt or whatever. “Wanna see?” Miguel said, hopping about like a curly-headed little flea.

  Eli halted, briefly, giving Miguel a strained smile. “Maybe later,” he said, with an equally brief, strained glance at Julia, who’d taken up the flea dance, too, accompanying herself by “singing” at the top of her robust little lungs.

  As Eli continued down the hall, Miguel frowned at Tess, not so much hurt as confused. Make that two of us, Tess thought. Seeing Eli with Christine in Ortega’s, listening to him talk about how he and his dad kept tabs on poor old Charley…why would he be standoffish with her kids? Although…

  “It’s okay, baby,” she said. “He’s just busy. Um…watch Julia for a sec, okay?”

  “Kay.”

  Busy poking at tiles and such, Eli didn’t at first notice Tess when she leaned against the bathroom door. “Sorry about the ambush,” she ventured. “Micky tends to gravitate to Y chromosomes like metal filings to a magnet.”

  Eli flashed a glance in her direction. “No problem.”

  “Even so…all he did was ask you to watch him get your dog to sit.”

  Retracting his tape measure from across the grime-encrusted sink cabinet, Eli gave her a steadier look, his normally mischief-riddled eyes flat. “Just trying to keep things moving, that’s all,” he said mildly.

  “You don’t like kids?”

  Eli’s brows shot up, followed by a startled laugh. “Just because I didn’t stop and watch Miguel and the dog, you automatically assume I’ve got a problem with kids?”

  “You looked…pained, is the only word I can come up with.” No, she realized as the flatness in his eyes sharpened. What he looked was scared. “I mean, not that I care one way or the other. I’m just curious.”

  One corner of his mouth tucked up before he looked away. “Nothing to be curious about. You’re reading more into it than there is.” He scratched behind one ear, then squinted at her. “And when we’re done, I’ll be glad to let Miguel and Blue show me their trick, okay? So you can ratchet down the Mama-protecting-her-cubs thing a notch.”

  “This isn’t about me, Eli,” Tess said, unaccountably irked. “But after what Miguel’s been through with his dad, he’ll pick up in an instant if you’re just playing nice.”

  “I won’t be,” he said, frowning at the ugly gold sink before gesturing toward the hard-water-stained tub. “You do realize this room’s gonna have to be gutted, right? New tub, new toilet, the works?”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “No, actually I’m getting back on subject,” he said, his opaque eyes at odds with the it’s-all-good grin. “Which would be this house.”

  Fine, two could play at this, Tess thought, despite the not-so-vague dissatisfaction suddenly gnawing at her. No, more than that—an annoyance that the man was systematically annihilating her preconceived notions about his being, well, basically one-dimensional.

  Like she needed layered men in her life right now.

  Like she needed any man in her life right now.

  “The Harrises have been warned,” she said, following him out of the room and back into the kitchen, hauling Julia up into her arms when the little girl came running over to her, a multilimbed bundle of joy. “In fact—” she kissed the baby’s chubby cheek, then looked back at Eli, who was giving her a strange look “—I told him flat out the scuzzy bathroom was a big reason why the place hadn’t sold. Squicking out potential buyers is not the way to go. Oh, no, honey,” she said when Julia launched herself toward Eli. “He doesn’t want—”

  But he’d caught the baby before she landed on her noggin, setting her in the curve of his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. He didn’t exactly go all goo-goo-ga-ga over her, giving her what seemed to Tess a cautious smile, but he seemed comfortable enough holding her, so she let it go.

  “To tell you the truth,” he said, looking back at the cabinets, “easiest thing would be to just rip ’em all out, replace ’em with standard stock from Lowe’s or Home Depot or someplace. Heckuva lot cheaper, too.”

  “They won’t look cheap?”

  “Nah, they’ll look fine. And we can do granite veneer on the counters, looks great, but for, like, a quarter of the cost of solid.” He looked around. “Ditch the wallpaper, paint the walls, maybe do some tiling on the backsplash if you want…” He looked over, a slight smile tilting his lips. “I can get you an estimate by late tomorrow. How’s that?”

  “Um, sure, that’s great—”

  “Okay, pumpkin, back to your mama,” he said, handing the baby over and returning to the living room. “So, Miguel. Show how me what you taught the dog.”

  It was pitiful, the way the kid lit up. Pitiful and totally understandable. “Okay!” he said, bending over and patting his thighs. “C’mere, Blue! C’mere, boy!” The dog’s bat ears half-lowered, he looked back at Eli as if to say, Do I gotta? At Eli’s nod, the thing sighed and plodded over to Micky. “Now sit!” When the dog sat, Miguel looked at Eli, beaming. “Told you!”

  Smiling, Tess glanced back at Eli just in time to catch an achy expression on his face that stopped her smile cold, even as the man chuckled. “Let’s see if it works for me. Come, Blue.” The dog literally rolled his eyes, heaved himself to his feet and plodded back to Eli. “Sit, Blue. Well, look at that—you’re a good teacher, Miguel! Okay,” he said, gathering up his things. “I gotta git, but you two be good for your mama, y’hear?” Then he boot-scooted his fine self out of there, Blue trotting along behind.

  Bizarre.

  And all the way home, as Miguel yammered about how cool Eli was, the whole dog-sitting incident bugged. Yeah, Eli’d done and said all the right things, but Tess couldn’t shake the feeling something was off. Not that he didn’t like kids, or even that he didn’t know what to do with them, b
ut…

  But like there was a story there he wasn’t telling.

  And if she was smart, she’d let it stay untold.

  Situated in what used to be an old A-frame house far enough from the center of town to be discreet, but not so far as to inconvenience anybody, the Lone Star Bar was about as threatening as a toothless hound dog. And almost as comical. Even with most of the original walls ripped out, the inside was hardly big enough for a decent-size bar, let alone the handful of tables and chairs and the requisite pool table squeezed into the back corner. Oh, and the six-foot-square “stage” set up for karaoke night. Ramon Viera, the owner, used to joke the place was so small he didn’t dare hire chesty waitresses for fear they’d put somebody’s eye out. But if, like Eli, you just wanted someplace to de-stress for a few minutes, there was no place better.

  Ramon’s bushy eyebrows barely lifted when Eli slid onto one of the dozen barstools. “Hey, Eli…haven’t seen you in forever,” he said over Reba McIntyre’s warbling on the jukebox, the clacking of billiard balls, some gal’s high-pitched laugh. “Everything okay?”

  Hell, no. Not by a long shot. And all it’d taken was the feel of Tess’s little girl in his arms, the yearning in a six-year-old boy’s eyes, for everything he’d worked so hard to put behind him to come roaring back up in his face, just like that.

  “What? I can’t stop in for old times’ sake?”

  Ramon shrugged. And grinned. Took a lot more than a cranky carpenter to offend the old bartender. “What’ll it be?”

  “Whatever’s on tap,” Eli said, tossing a couple bucks on the pock-marked bar when Ramon placed the filled glass in front of him, only to nearly choke on a cloud of perfume pungent enough to spray crops with.

  “Well, hello, stranger,” Suze Jenkins said, sliding up onto the seat beside him. “How ’bout buying a girl a drink?”

  Oh, Lord. They’d gone out exactly once, probably five years ago, although Eli couldn’t for the life of him remember why. What he did remember was that a) nothing had happened, and b) Suze had been right pissed about that. That despite his calling the next day to say he was sorry, but it didn’t seem right to leave her dangling when he knew nothing was gonna blossom between them—which had seemed the decent thing to do, if you asked him—she’d been harder to shake than a burr off a long-furred dog. And although she eventually let go, she still occasionally popped up, just seeing if the wind had changed.