by Mae Nunn
But he had to admit the zinger his little sister tossed out invoked a reaction from Abby that did worlds for his recently lagging self-confidence. The light leaked out of her eyes and the corners of her smile wilted like a thirsty houseplant. Then it got better. Her lips took on that same pinched pucker that Dillon got right before he let loose with a wail of discontent.
She cared about him. Guy felt sure of it. And not just because he was handy around the house.
“So, you won’t be able to help finish up all the projects you and Daddy have planned?”
Then again, maybe not.
He wasn’t completely certain of anything anymore. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He knew there was something special about Abby, something he felt compelled to get to know better if she’d let him. If only there was just a small corner of her heart ready and waiting to accept a new man in her life.
Just in case, he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Do not let the Warden’s ravings worry you,” he assured Abby. “Casey thinks she’s in charge of everybody, runs a tight prison.”
“The Warden and the Admiral must be cut from the same cloth,” Abby observed.
“Well said.” Guy hadn’t made the comparison before but Abby was right. His sister had very similar qualities to Sarah Reagan. He turned to Casey. “Abby just likened you to her rather tyrannical mother and I have to say she’s right on the mark. You, baby sister, definitely have a streak of dictator in you.”
“Don’t make me box your ears,” his sister warned.
He made fists, assumed a fighter’s stance and took a playful swipe. A veteran of self-defense training, she expertly ducked, blocked the halfhearted punch and then threw a serious jab to his ribs. He yelped and backed away to a safe distance, rubbing his side while he made his case.
“Listen, kiddo, I’ve got at least a few more weeks worth of work here before I’m ready to head out. The Galveston project is on track to start in a few months. That gives me plenty of time to finalize the work I want to do at the Reagans’ home.”
“But Dad said…”
Guy gave her his infamous, no-nonsense look. “I’ll handle everything. I always do.”
“Yeah, right, just like you handled that debacle in Nashville.”
The moment the criticism was out she bit her lip, censuring herself. Even for Casey, that was too far.
But it was hardly a secret. H&H had been under siege after a personal-injury lawsuit in their largest Tennessee location. The case was a matter of public record, but among the family all had privately been forgiven, if not forgotten. An extremely costly lesson learned, they’d moved on. But Casey just couldn’t resist the occasional opportunity to scratch open Guy’s still-fresh professional wound.
She stepped close and slipped her arm around his waist. “Sorry about that. The timing and the comment were insensitive.”
“Just like you,” he teased, letting her off the hook, knowing she was unlikely to do the same if the tables were turned. He glazed over the awkward situation by moving her an arm’s length away so he could survey the shoplifter’s disguise.
“That’s quite a getup you’ve got there. I have to admit it’s such a departure from your usual navy-and-white uniform that I hardly recognized you at first.”
“Excuse me,” Abby interrupted, “I have to be going.”
Guy checked his watch. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry to hold you up. It is getting late.”
“Late?” Casey glanced at the afternoon sun still high overhead.
“Well, yeah!” He admonished the sister who had no concept of time beyond her own workaholic schedule. “At five o’clock, when you have a baby to pick up from day care and someone at home expecting dinner and a ride to the hospital, it’s getting late.”
“Excuuuuuuse me.” She flinched at his criticism, then quickly recovered, the look in her eyes telegraphing suspicion over his protective defense of any woman other than a member of the gaggle. No doubt, Casey would circle back around to that subject first chance she got. She scooped her cap off the sidewalk and tugged it over her curls.
“I’ll wait inside so we can continue this conversation.” Seemed the chance was hovering closer than even he expected.
“Abby,” Casey said, turning her attention elsewhere. “It was a pleasure. I look forward to meeting the rest of your family soon.”
“Thanks, but I don’t know when that would happen.”
“If there are home-improvement projects to be done, I’m an able volunteer. And at the very least you’ll join us for the employee-appreciation barbecue. We have some great surprises planned for our employees.”
“How do you know about all that?” Guy quirked a brow in question.
“There’s not much in your life I don’t know about. Or won’t eventually figure out.” She smirked, touched the brim of her Dallas Cowboys cap in salute and breezed into the store.
“So that’s what a female member of the Hardy clan is like?” Abby smiled and shook her head, her first taste of Casey being a typically spicy one.
“And she’s the baby of the family. Aggressive but she’s not even the bossy one. Wait till you meet Andrea.”
“Will she be visiting, too?”
“Actually, no. I guess I was just thinking out loud.” Or was it wishing out loud? If he showed up at home with a woman, his mother would faint. His sisters would never let him hear the end of it and his dad would start planning retirement, hoping his son was finally ready to settle down and take the helm.
There was no doubt about it. Guy was going to have to play twenty questions with Casey as soon as he went inside. In the past he’d always managed to come up with rather vague answers about his female friends that had appeased her. So why was it he actually wanted to share a few details this time? Maybe even rub in the fact that somebody might want him as a regular guy and not Guy Hardy, only male heir to the Hearth and Home empire.
Abby stirred beside him, needing to be on her way.
“Let me walk you to the car.”
“Sure, if you don’t mind.” She ducked her head, but not quick enough to hide the small smile he hoped was evidence she wanted him near for a few moments longer. The simple acts of courtesy he’d been raised to provide automatically seemed to please her so much. Abby was possibly the most unspoiled woman he’d ever met. He waited while she unlocked the door of the compact car that hadn’t seen the wet side of a soapy sponge in months and then he leaned in and opened it for her.
“Is it still okay for me to give Shorty a ride to the rehab center tonight?”
Abby slid into the seat, buckled herself with a snug tug of the belt and tilted her face toward him, squinting into the fading sun. “Why are you being so good to us, Guy?”
She was blunt. She deserved a straight answer, so he crafted one as best he could.
“Because I like you. All of you.”
“And we like you, too.”
She pinched her bottom lip between even, white teeth and sucked in a deep breath. Something important was coming. He squatted, hips to heels, so she was comfortably looking down into his eyes.
“We like you a lot. But your sister just reminded me that when you leave in a few weeks it’ll just be me, Dillon and my folks again. You’ve gotta realize they might have some false expectations, Guy. You’ve been so kind to us that my family just naturally lights up when you’re around. And that includes…”
She paused, swallowed, a furrow of distress
settled between her lovely eyes. Was she about to say that included her?
“…That includes my son.” She offered a sad smile. “Dillon’s just a baby. He doesn’t understand. He waits by the door and asks for you on the days you don’t come by.”
“Does that mean you’d like me to come by every day?” He was a high-school sophomore again, using his best bashful, hopeful smile to charm a pretty girl. He hadn’t needed to change his approach in the twenty-some-odd years since he’d discovered that tactic worked like a charm. But the downward tilt at the outside corners of Abby’s eyes told him it was going to be harder than that.
“You know what I mean.” She touched his arm with her fingertips.
The rush of pleasure he’d felt was doused by a wave of remorse. The admission had been hard for her. She was trying to create something that would remind her son of his father, and another man’s presence seemed to be working contrary to that effort.
He closed a hand over hers. “Yes, I do, and I promise I’ll be very aware of your concern.”
She began to pull away, to turn toward the business of starting her car. He increased the pressure on her hand. Her gaze met his, her eyes questioning.
“Abby, I truly care about your family, especially Dillon.” But you most of all. “And you…well, you’re an amazing young woman caught between a rock and a hard place, stuck in the middle, taking care of two generations. But you don’t treat it as a burden. You see the pressures of your family’s needs as blessings, and I find that remarkable. Mostly because I feel the same way about mine and I never thought I’d meet somebody outside of the Hardy clan who would understand.”
She nodded. Words of confirmation were unnecessary. Despite their differences, this was common ground. Family was everything.
Even though he’d never take a wife, never have children of his own.
As he watched her car disappear from sight he took his time in the parking lot, gathering up shopping carts abandoned by customers.
Upstairs in the office, Casey had settled into his chair where she was studying the drawings on his desk.
“I have to admit I didn’t see that one coming, even though Andrea mentioned you talk about this girl way too much for it to be anything as cut and dried as business.”
“Andrea needs to keep her opinions to herself.” He reached to roll up the plans.
Casey swatted his hands away and straightened the cheap reading glasses she’d fished off his desk so she could study the pages spread atop the cluttered surface. The oversize, drugstore horn-rims made her look like a barn owl. Add the thick, kinky mop topping off the disguise and his little sis was a real looker at the moment.
“Hmm…so these are the alterations you expect to make on the Reagans’ home? Smart stuff, bro.” She nodded approval as she continued to scan the draft. “And since all the changes are related to disability access we should be able to take this expense as a charitable deduction and get some great press from it. But I’m sure that’s what you had in mind when you came up with this plan.”
“Actually, this effort is absolutely not to be used for PR because it would embarrass the Reagans. And I don’t intend to charge any of this against the company. I’ll cover the cost myself.”
Her head popped up.
“So Andrea’s right. You’ve let this get personal.”
“It’s personal because these are nice people who deserve a break.”
She yanked off the glasses and leveled the Hardy family eyes at him. The blue intensity never failed to bore into his very soul.
“Listen, I apologize for shooting my mouth off in front of an outsider before, but you know I’ve got to say this now.”
He lowered his chin and heaved a sigh. Yes, he knew quite well what was coming.
“Ike and Sadie Grossman seemed like that at first, too. But they were nothing but opportunistic trailer trash and, thanks to us they own every mobile-home park on the west side of Nashville today.”
“You’ve just met Abby for yourself,” he interrupted. “Her parents are good folks.”
“Is that what the report confirmed?”
Guy hated to deceive anybody, but not being straightforward with family was an unpardonable sin. How could he get around this question without being dishonest with his sister, and right to her face? To make matters more pressing, whatever he said to the Warden now would most certainly be relayed to the rest of the family. He opened a file drawer as if he intended to produce a folder. He tried to be nonchalant with his carefully chosen words.
“The report’s not final yet but the preliminary information is all positive.”
“Not final? Are you using the same service? They’ve always been very efficient.”
“The service is fine, just give them some time to do the work we pay them for. And speaking of that,” he said, carefully tending a seed. “The company pays you way too much to have this kind of idle time on your hands, so I’d like you to get involved with the legals on the Galveston project.”
She was silent. He glanced up to see her glowering at him, her arms crossed in defiance.
“What?” he demanded.
“That’s always been your responsibility. Why are you trying to push something that important off on me?”
“Just trying to expose you to new details, but if you’re not up to it…”
She lowered her chin and held a palm outward. “Stop right there. I know when I’m being baited so let’s just save the games for one of your less discerning siblings.” She glanced up, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “And as long as I’m doing my job and yours, how about if I make some phone calls to check up on the investigation?”
“Leave it alone, Casey.” He averted his face, kept his hand occupied with the files. “I’m coordinating this one myself and if I need your help, which I won’t, I’ll ask for it.”
Casey stood, crossed the few feet that separated them and pinched the fine hairs on his forearm, a tactic the gaggle found very effective in getting the undivided attention of their men. She gripped tightly forcing him to abandon his busy work.
“Alexander Theodore Guy! Tell me you’re not smitten with that girl!” She tugged hard, demanding a response.
“Ouch!” He yelped and pulled Casey close to reduce the resistance. “And what would be so awful about that?”
“You cannot be serious! For starters, she’s what? Twenty-five? Twenty-six? Way too young for a man looking down the shotgun barrel at forty.”
Actually Abby was only twenty-four, so there was no defense there.
“Number two, if everything I’ve heard about her is on the up and up, the poor girl has got her hands full. She doesn’t need a man who freely admits the time it takes to frame and dry in a new store is the perfect lifespan of a romantic relationship.”
That was a ninety-day job so Casey wasn’t far off the mark with her accusation.
“Three, she comes with a ready-made family, exactly what you’ve insisted your entire life that you don’t want.”
“You ladies change your minds at the drop of a hat. Why can’t a man?” The question was just for argument’s sake with Casey, but he was beginning to ponder that one for real.
She ended the painful tug-of-war and rested fists on her hips, double-huff style.
“Women may occasionally change their minds, but leopards don’t ever change their spots. Bro, you have been adamant since you were fourteen that there’s no wife and kids in your future and ev
erything you’ve done since then has affirmed that assertion.”
Casey’s ability to cut straight to the bone was accurate, as always. What on earth had he been thinking? It was time to get back to business and bury these crazy daydreams that surfaced each time Abby was near.
His sister cupped his face in her cool hands and pulled him down close. “Now hear this, handsome stranger, I don’t know what you’ve done with my brother, but hand him over! We have deadlines to meet and there’s a fancy pair of boots in some Western-wear store in Galveston just waiting to become part of the Guy Hardy collection.”
* * *
THE DRIVE FROM the little house a few blocks off Guadalupe to the rehab center seemed to take forever. Shorty had a hundred questions about the construction plan. Actually they were more objections than questions, a communication style Guy was becoming accustomed to hearing.
“I don’t see how you can add another six square feet of floor space to the bathroom unless we blow out that side wall far enough to take down the neighbor’s fence.” The old fella was as antsy and short on patience as a kid on the last day of school.
“It’ll work, Shorty. I’ve done the math.” Guy tapped the roll of blueprints on the consol between them. “But don’t take my word for it, you’ve got the drawings right there to prove it.”
Shorty grunted, looked out the window.
“There can’t possibly be a whirlpool tub that will fit into that space in the corner,” he grumbled. “Not one we can afford anyway.”
“One of our suppliers is bound to come up with just what we need.”
“We’ll never round up all the materials to finish this thing before Mother’s Day.”
“Of course we will.” Guy was struggling with the negative comments. All he wanted to do was lock his thoughts on something positive. Something uplifting.
Something Abby.