by Carol Finch
“What’s complacent mean…sir?” Richie Baker asked.
“Unconcerned, showing a lack of industriousness or interest,” Nate defined. “Hard work always pays off. Maybe not immediately, but eventually. Some folks don’t have the patience to wait for their rewards. If it doesn’t come easily they quit and look for illegal ways to make fast money.”
Lord, how many times had Bud and Fuzz drilled that into Nate’s head while he was working his butt off, sweating like a racehorse? Again, Nate had opened his mouth and poof! The gospel according to Bud and Fuzz came pouring out.
Nate bounded from his truck and started spouting instructions. When he had directed his crew to the jobs, he flung up his hand to halt them in their tracks. “I’m buying supper tonight. Until it arrives, we’re going to get this lawn cleared of trash. If you loaf, you get to work while the rest of us are gobbling up burgers and fries. Go!”
Nate watched in satisfaction as his charges jogged to the work site to clean up after the crews who had loaded up their trucks and left for the day. It annoyed the hell out of him that so many of the construction crews tossed around their trash, expecting someone else to pick up after them. Candy wrappers, paper cups, wall insulation wrappers and plastic soda bottles were scattered like casualties of war.
Nate expected his oil field crews to leave a site clean, rather than living down to that nonsense about being oil-field-worker trash and proud of it. Apparently, corporate officials in other industries didn’t share his beautification fetish. Nate supposed he insisted on tidiness because he had lived in a trashy dump of a house half his life. Nowadays, he couldn’t tolerate messiness and disorganization.
All the while that Nate was sacking garbage and carrying it to the bins, he kept an eye on his charges. He could hear them yammering while they worked, but they didn’t break stride so he didn’t object. He wondered if this was the first honest day’s work they had put in. Probably. If he taught these teenagers anything else it would be the self-discipline to stick with a job—no matter how crummy it was—until it was completed.
The boys were probably cursing him, but at least they were working. A man had to start somewhere, he figured.
At seven o’clock, Katy and Tammy arrived with supper. Nate was pleased that he didn’t have to exclude anyone from eating. The crew had fulfilled their end of the bargain satisfactorily. They had worked as hard and fast as Nate had. In fact, he caught all five boys watching him from time to time, as if trying to emulate his efficiency of movement, attempting to keep the pace he set.
However, the boys’ hormones kicked in when Tammy Bates showed her pretty face at the site. Amused, Nate noted every juvenile had developed a strut in his walk when answering the summons to supper.
Nate wondered if he had, too, back in the old days when he caught sight of Katy.
After the boys gobbled down supper and took a few minutes to kick back and take a breather, Nate put them back to work. There wasn’t time for a single juvenile to grouse or complain, because Tammy, bless her heart, bounded to her feet and offered to pitch in with the cleanup. She reminded Nate so much of the younger version of Katy that he was lost to tender, bittersweet memories.
Of course, it was little wonder that Tammy was a kind, caring, good-hearted young lady, Nate reminded himself as he gathered his trash from supper. Katy had practically raised her niece, instilling good work habits and strong moral ethics.
“I can’t believe the startling changes in those boys,” Katy marveled as she limped alongside Nate. “Sir? They call you sir? And they say it with respect? What kind of magic wand did you wave over their heads?”
“The same kind that included tough love and a no-nonsense approach that Bud Thurston and Fuzz Havern used on me,” Nate replied. “I—”
His voice dried up when he pivoted to face Katy and saw her silhouetted against the burning orange sunset. She reminded him of an earthbound angel, what with the bright light glinting off her curly hair, molding itself to her shapely contours.
God! He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and kiss away all the demoralizing hurt and pain she had suffered during his absence. He wanted to protect her from being the brunt of gossip because of her association with him.
“Nate? Is something wrong?” Katy watched his admiring smile evaporate, and she felt the immediate loss of self-confidence when he stared at her with a hint of sadness in his dark eyes.
He raked his fingers through his wind-blown hair, then sighed audibly. “Every time we’re seen together, I suspect Lester’s wagging tongue is working overtime. It’s the only part of him that is, to be sure. I don’t want to see you hurt, Kat, especially not because of me. It could happen, you know. Lester will stop at nothing in his attempt to drive me out of town, up to and including making something sordid of our friendship.”
The aching tenderness in his voice, the intensity in his eyes, compelled Katy toward him. Never once in her hellish marriage had she instinctively moved toward Brad. Only away from him, always desperate to avoid him. But Nate was completely different. Even her learned reactions seemed to recognize the difference and respond to the feeling of trust and security Nate generated inside her.
At that moment Katy thought Nate was the one who desperately needed a hug and words of reassurance. She knew Lester’s poisonous gossip had to be getting to Nate. He tried not to let it show, but it did occasionally.
Katy slipped her arms around his lean waist and pushed up on tiptoe. He cocked a thick brow and waited for her to make the next move. She wondered if he had any idea what that meant to her. Probably—Nate Channing seemed to know exactly how to handle her, just as he knew how to relate to the juveniles he’d taken under his wing.
“Katy Marie,” he said in a low, husky drawl, “I swear you have every intention of kissing me, right out here in front of your niece and my owl-eyed work crew.”
She returned his contagious grin, felt warm self-assurance gliding through her. “It’s just part of their training program,” she insisted as she reached up to trace the sensuous curve of his lips. “If the kids are looking, they’ll see gentleness and respect.”
He nipped playfully at her fingertips. “I gotta tell ya, Kat, their male antennae are probably picking up on my difficulty to show self-restraint. Truth is, I want your mouth on mine so badly I can taste it.”
“You do?” Katy glanced down momentarily, gathering the courage to continue. “I thought maybe you were satisfied just being friends.”
A low rumble of laughter bubbled in his chest. Katy felt the vibrations echoing through her, stirring her, leaving her wanting in ways she had forgotten existed. She had only experienced desire with Nate—in another lifetime.
“I’m trying to be the perfect gentleman with you,” he admitted as his arm glided around her waist to draw her full-length against him. “But don’t be fooled, Katy Marie. There’s still a lot of the bad boy of Coyote Flats left in me, though I’m trying to control it. I want you. That probably scares you half to death, but I want all you are willing to give, any way you want to give it.” He gazed down at her with glittering intensity. “And if you don’t kiss me in about one second I swear I’m gonna go into nuclear meltdown and disintegrate.”
“Yeah?” Katy beamed in pleasure and newfound confidence.
“Uh-huh,” he confided on a tormented groan. “The burger and fries were just swell, but I’ve got a powerful craving for dessert. I think you better kiss me now.”
He had the knack, Katy realized as she melted against him, to send all her wariness and learned inhibitions into orbit. He allowed her to set her own pace—unthreatened and unafraid that he would push too hard, too fast. He left her wanting and eager for a taste of him, for a touch—all those things that Brad made so repulsive and hurtful. Nate gave those actions new, pleasurable meaning.
When her lips touched his, an interim of torment vanished, replaced by a gentleness so overwhelming that Katy felt her knees wobble, felt the ground shift beneath her feet. She co
uld feel the evidence of his desire pressing against her hip, but he didn’t spoil the moment by crushing her painfully against him, tearing at her clothes, groping at her with brutal impatience. Nate cherished her, cradled her, left her with her self-respect. He made her feel an equal participant in a kiss that she wished could go on forever and ever.
Gradually she became aware of the sound of giggling in the near distance. She broke the kiss and turned in Nate’s encircling arms to see six adolescent faces beaming mischievously at her. She should have been embarrassed, but Nate made it feel so natural, so right, to be with him.
“What are you clowns snickering about?” Nate asked, his voice slightly unsteady.
“Nothing, sir.” Chad tried to keep a straight face—and failed.
“How about you, Jake?” Nate asked.
“Nothin’ …sir.” Jake didn’t make the slightest attempt to conceal his devilish grin.
“Richie? Tyler? Will? Tammy?”
“Nothing, sir,” they said in unison, then ruined the effect by bursting out in giggles.
Nate nodded in mock sobriety. “I get it. You’re wondering if I’m going to kiss you guys for a job well done, is that it?”
The boys howled in laughter. Tammy giggled again.
“Sorry, fellas,” Nate said. “All you’re going to get from me is a pat on the back and a heartfelt thank-you. Now, get back to work. You’re wasting your time and my money.”
The crew, still grinning, went back to work. Nate couldn’t bring himself to release Katy. He felt as if they had passed another monumental milestone, and he didn’t want to let go of the moment. When a woman as emotionally and physically inhibited as Katy finally offered an invitation, Nate hungered to savor every last drop of pleasure.
Truth be told, his male body was roiling with so much sexual frustration that he wanted to drop down on all fours and howl at the moon. He wanted the uninterrupted privacy to finish what they started, to strip Katy down to her silky skin and see to it that every fantasy that was keeping him up nights became reality….
Don’t go there, Nate, he cautioned himself. Don’t expect more than Katy can give. Take things slow and easy, pal. You’re making progress in yards, not inches, now. Don’t blow it by scaring her away.
“Thanks for delivering supper,” Nate murmured as he bent to graze his lips across the side of her neck. His voice dropped an octave as she turned in his arms to face him, her body brushing against the hard ridge behind the zipper of his jeans. “And most especially, thank you for dessert. I really needed that. You’re the only one in town who gives any positive feedback.”
“No,” she contradicted him as she reached up to comb her fingers through the tuft of raven hair that drooped on his forehead. “Thank you, for giving these boys a chance, for—” she grinned impishly “—that spectacular kiss.”
He chuckled. “Why, ’tweren’t nothin’, ma’am,” he said in his best Texas drawl. “Mighty happy to oblige. Just call me any ole time you’d be needin’ a good kissin’.”
“Tomorrow night? Hot beef sandwiches?” she asked.
“I’ll be there,” he promised.
Katy stepped away, then called to Tammy. For the first time in years she felt alive, content. It was as if she had been reborn, injected with some of that long-forgotten spirit.
Yet, there were still these lingering self-doubts that kept creeping up on her. She wondered how she would react if things between Nate and her became hot and heavy. Would she spoil the moment? Would he back away when he saw her ugly scars? Would he care that she wasn’t as physically perfect as he was? Would he become angry if she froze up, reacting instinctively to unpleasant memories from the past that might suddenly assail her? Just how much patient understanding did she expect Nate to provide when it came to intimacy?
A sinking feeling riveted Katy when she remembered that she was keeping a secret from Nate that he needed to know. She had to tell him of her father’s involvement in the incident that forced him out of town sixteen years ago. She had to tell him sometime. When was the right moment?
Katy glanced over her shoulder at Nate as she limped toward her car. Maybe she should get it over with before things got more complicated….
“Aunt Katy?” Tammy held out her hand for the car keys, jostling Katy from her troubled thoughts. “Can I drive us home?”
“Sure.”
As Tammy pulled from the parking lot, she glanced back at the work crew. “Chad and the other guys seemed different tonight.”
“Did they?”
“Yeah, lots,” Tammy confirmed.
“They must have gotten a dose of Nate Channing magic,” Katy replied.
Tammy flashed Katy an elfish grin. “You obviously got a dose, too. I’m glad. Really, really glad about that.”
Katy gestured toward the highway. “Just drive, Cupid. I have a few sewing projects to attend to this evening, plus I have to whip up a couple of pies for tomorrow’s senior citizens’ luncheon at church.”
“More hemlines going up in your wardrobe?” Tammy teased, then giggled when Katy pulled a face at her.
“Good thing your father is coming home in the morning,” Katy said, turning her gaze to the highway. “You need some instruction in respect for your elders, rather than razzing them unmercifully.”
“Um…Chad asked me out for a Coke date tonight. It is Friday, you know.”
“Yes, I’m very good at days of the week, dear,” Katy assured her, grinning. “And what did you tell Chad?”
“I said yes. He doesn’t have a car, and he asked if I minded just walking to Coyote Grill. Nate overheard the conversation and told Chad he could borrow the pickup.”
Katy smiled to herself. Nate’s generosity and willingness to make a difference in the lives of those misguided boys filled her with such satisfaction that she wanted to tell Tammy to turn the car around so she could squeeze the stuffing out of Nate.
Although he was the subject of insulting gossip, he was determined to make a difference in this town, to give more than he had received. You had to love him for that.
Katy was afraid she already did, afraid she had never really stopped loving him…but she wasn’t sure she was woman enough these days to communicate all the wondrous feelings he inspired in her.
It was hell wanting Nate this badly and battling feelings of inadequacy. She didn’t want to disappoint him and she didn’t want to walk away ashamed and humiliated, either. Darn it, her mind told her to remain just friends, but her feminine body was rejecting the good advice sent down by her brain.
Nate stood in front of the small wood-frame house, with its chipped paint, lopsided shutters and overgrown flower bed. Willfully, he squelched the frustration that was eating away at him.
He had stopped by the hardware store to buy paint, nails, lumber and screws for his Saturday project. The moment he strolled into the store, silence descended on the other customers. Everyone stopped and stared at him. Nate figured Lester Brown had been hard at work, sabotaging him again, because folks turned away as if they feared they were about to contract the plague.
Sometimes—like this morning—Nate found himself asking why he was putting so much time, effort and money into a town that rejected his presence. Lester continually filled folks’ ears with tales of Nate’s checkered past, then twisted Nate’s motivations to make him sound manipulative and devious.
Well hell, there were times when Nate wanted to throw up his hands and tell everybody around here where they could go and what they could do with themselves when they got there.
The cold, remote attitudes toward him were breaking down the self-confidence he’d spent years constructing. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t come from great breeding, same as his mutt, Taz. But damn it, he was trying to make a new start! Didn’t that count for anything in Coyote Flats?
Apparently not.
His depressing thoughts trailed off when he heard the rumble of his extended cab pickup as it pulled into the driveway. Nate had told Chad to keep
the truck overnight after his date with Tammy, then pick up the other boys for work this morning. The fivesome piled from the truck and glanced curiously at him.
“Isn’t this Crazy Millie’s house?” Jake asked. “What are we gonna do here?”
Nate gestured his head toward the house. “It needs a facelift. Millie isn’t physically or financially able to do the work herself.”
“She asked you to do this?” Richie questioned, bemused.
“Nope.”
“Then why?” Tyler asked.
Nate merely smiled at his befuddled crew. “Figure it out while you’re grabbing the scrapers, rollers and paint.”
Dressed in a threadbare T-shirt and tattered jeans, Nate went to work removing the dangling shutters on the windows while the boys scraped wood and rolled on paint.
Millie appeared on her porch, her straw hat tipped down on her wrinkled forehead like a gunfighter prepared to square off for a showdown. “What the blazes do you think you’re doing, Nate?” she demanded gruffly.
“Fixing up the place.”
“Didn’t ask you to.”
“I know.”
Millie glared at the boys, who were spreading a glossy coat of white paint everywhere. “You there.” She indicated Chad Parker. “Tell your boss man that you aren’t doing this job!”
Chad paused with a roller in his hand. “Sorry, ma’am, but I can’t do that. I’m here to work.”
Millie harrumphed at him. “Are you, now?” She focused her steely gaze on Jake. “What about you, boy? How come you signed up with this paint brigade?”
“Because…” Jake’s voice trailed off, and he frowned pensively.
“Well?” Millie prodded him.
“Because…I want…to help.”
Nate nearly dropped the shutter. The kid was finally starting to get it. Glory be! Saints be praised! Hallelujah!