I Picked You

by J C Hartung

  The bus driver nodded at her, and as she stood alone at the end of her driveway with one hand over her heart, the other waved ferociously back at her baby.

  She allowed herself twenty minutes after the bus to cry, fall apart, and put herself back together. Then giving in to impulse, she grabbed her phone and hit Linc’s name before she could think of all the reasons it was wiser not to.

  She knew hardly anything about him, yet she’d bared her soul. How had he got her to do that? He had also called last night knowing she would be stressed. She had to give the guy credit for timing, and herself a piece as well for deciding to forego her preplanned morning of wallowing.

  He’d said he was available but he didn’t answer. Maybe she could go to town, do a quick check at work and swing by and have coffee with Carrie. She tossed her bag in the car and just as she was starting it up her phone buzzed, flashing Linc’s name.

  “Hey!” she said, surprised he’d returned her call so quickly.

  “Hey back! What’re you up to?”

  “More distracting; I was about to head into town and pester everyone who had a moment!”

  He leaned on his workbench, crossed his ankles and turned to the windows where the sun was streaming through. “I see! Are these pestering visits accompanied by snacks?”

  He heard her laugh.

  “They could be. Are you asking for a visit or the snacks?”

  “Snacks are never turned away; you’ll understand that when you see my set up, but a visit from you would definitely be a highlight! When will you be here?”

  She laughed again. “If snacks are included, I’ll need to run back in the house and throw one together.”

  “Because I have no shame, I say, go ahead and take a few extra minutes, and while you’re at it, grab a pen and paper and I’ll give you directions.”

  “It’s the old Gardiner farm isn’t it?”

  “It sure is!”

  “I know where it is. Give me about a half hour. How hungry are you?”

  It was his turn to laugh. He walked to his work fridge and took a glance over its contents. He had a flat of water, three apples and a leftover pizza box.

  “Whatever you bring will be devoured, likely before the day is done.”

  “You make it sound like you could use charity, and Linc, I’ve seen your jeans and I know how much they cost, so clearly you are not a charity case!”

  “Charity I don’t need, but you’ll see soon enough I am slightly challenged at the moment.” He smirked and pulled a bottle of that water from the fridge.

  “Ok, I’ll be there soon!”

  It may be a bit weird and unexpected of her, but if she had to distract herself with a handsome and charming near stranger, she couldn’t have found a better stand in.

  She was coming to him, and sooner than he’d imagined. That was definitely a step in the right direction. He pulled a remote from his back pocket and aimed it at a stereo. Music; the loud, invasive boom of it filled the air. He pulled his safety glasses back in place, took one last long drink from the bottle of water before setting it aside. He walked over to the 4x4 posts he was about to cut. He ran his hand down the side, said a few tender words to it, smiled, and lined up the markings he’d made before he was interrupted.

  He made all the cuts before she arrived and he was just sweeping up when she made her appearance. He carried the broom with him and left it leaning against the door frame when he walked out the wide barn door.

  He sauntered over to where she’d chosen to park her car.

  “Hello!” He greeted her with a lazy grin that she matched as he opened the door for her.

  His eyes did a quick once over. He wouldn’t know where to begin to describe her; she had a style all her own, and it fit her so well he couldn’t imagine her any other way. She’d twisted her hair up all fancy at the sides and left it flowing long and loose down her back, so when she moved it danced in the breeze. She looked a whole lot more than nice.

  “Good morning! Look at this place! You’re a builder, is this what you do?” she asked, looking at the house as he closed the door.

  His eyes followed hers. “A piece of it, I guess,” he said humbly, not explaining further.

  “Well, it’s not the same house I had sleepovers at as a girl! Did you really do all of this?”

  “I had help, and will need a whole lot more before it’s done.”

  “I’ll trade you snacks for a tour!” she proposed, and he smiled down at her.

  “Sounds like a pretty good deal for me!” He held his hand out for her to take. Her eyes passed quickly between his and his hand before she linked their fingers together and fell in stride next to him.

  “It’s a grand mess right now, and everything on the main floor is being repurposed so it won’t be the house you remember at all. It’s pretty much an empty shell.”

  They walked around the outside, a full circle before he led her to the porch where the swing he built was hung. She dropped his hand and walked to the swing. She ran her fingers across the deep arms and circled to the back and continued around to where he stood.

  He knew the wood was smooth and likely cool where it hung in the shadow of the roof. He knew the swing well enough to feel it was part of him, such a part of him he could almost feel the trail of her fingers along his own flesh.

  “This is beautiful,” she said, without realizing she’d already paid him the highest compliment by showing him the admiration in her eyes.

  “I like it,” were the simple three words he could get out. He watched her move next to him. She took his hand and smiled, waiting for him to invite her into his home. He pulled the door open and motioned for her to enter and he followed after her into the empty kitchen. He kept walking but his arm remained behind him where when he turned to look at her, she appeared to be frozen in place.

  “This was the old kitchen!”

  With wide eyes she did a circle where she stood. He got a kick out of her animated experience.

  “And it will be again, more or less,” he said, before he proceeded to show her with large sweeping arm motions where the counters would someday go, the cabinetry, and where the handsome range hood and stove would eventually find their home. He didn’t think she’d be interested in the materials he had in mind, but she listened intently.

  “It will be beautiful,” she complimented. “What are you going to use for the countertops?”

  “I’m not decided yet. I’m toying with the idea of concrete. I went to see a guy about it yesterday, but I don’t have to decide for a while.”

  She nodded and crossed the room to the large wall of windows that connected the new to the old.

  “If you could have any surface you’d like, what would it be?” he asked.

  She turned with a brilliant smile and walked back towards him. “If I could choose any surface, with no concern for maintenance, cost, or overall design?” He nodded. “I’d choose soap stone, it’s so beautiful, and the surface is so smooth and it looks warm and inviting.”

  “Soap stone,” he repeated, unsure if he’d ever seen it.

  She shrugged with an edge of whimsy in her eyes, and shoved her hands in the pockets of her little, flowing skirt. Then in sneaker clad feet she walked with echoing steps to the hearth. “How are you going to finish the fireplace?”

  “I’ve got some stone from the same old barn these beams came from, they’re really rough but they’ll suit perfectly when everything is finished. The wall behind the oven will match.”

  She didn’t say anything but he followed her when she left the new building and walked down the hall to the old stripped rooms.

  “What are you going to use this for?” she asked, referring to what had been the living room.

  “Master bedroom,” he said, while he stopped to imagine the finished room. In the picture he saw a giant bed in the middle of a room filled with sunlight and warmed by the soft glow of a fire.

  “Really?” she asked. He watched her walk into the new cl
oset/ensuite area that was a part of the new building, the part his mother had convinced him to expand to accommodate a deep and curvy soaker tub. He stayed where he’d first leaned on the door’s frame; she came out a moment later, excitement sparkling in her eyes. She moved to the door, brushed slowly past him and kept her eye on him as she crossed the hall to where the dining room had once been. “And this one?”

  He laughed because she had a hint of teasing in her tone. “Office.”

  She pointed up and he followed her.

  “Just bedrooms?”

  “Yes, three of them. Not much happening up here other than a fresh coat of paint and sealed floors. The bathroom will be new.”

  She stuck her head into the bathroom which like the bedrooms stood empty except for a new shower surround. There was no toilet, no sink, and nothing was in working order.

  When they were back standing on the porch, she suddenly realized there was no trace of a person living in the entire house. No functional toilet or running water, no bed or closet full of clothes.

  “Where are you staying, Linc?”

  “That question will also answer your earlier question about my meager circumstances.” He reached for her again, feeling the warm, soft strength in her hand join with his strong and callused one.

  He’d left the door to the barn open and he let her step through first. He wanted to know what she saw; if she was more impressed with his house or with his work.

  “Did you make this?” she asked, pointing at a dining room table he’d added the final coat of poly to the night before.

  He scratched the back of his neck feeling suddenly put on display. “I did.”

  Then, like a child who can’t decide what her favorite toy is, she moved quickly to a headboard and bed rails that were ready to be stained.

  “Lincoln, this is beautiful,” she eyed him suspiciously, obviously trying to figure him out, and because he thought she wanted to figure him out, she drew another smile from him.

  “Thank you.”

  “What’s through there?” She pointed to a door.

  “Storage. Most of my furniture is in there, some random pieces, pretty much everything I own.”

  She scrunched her eyebrows, and he figured it was because he still hadn’t answered her question about where he was staying. He stepped to her and trailed his finger from where her brow creased to the tip of her nose.

  “That’s cute.” He smiled down at her even as the scrunch deepened and he saw a flash of annoyance.

  “You don’t like cute?” he teased.

  “When I was twelve maybe, but even then it was a short lived stage,” she tried not to smile and almost made it through her very short speech.

  “I’m living up there.” He pointed a finger up towards the stairs. She turned her back to him and he laid his hands on her shoulders as she looked up.

  “Is there anything to see?”

  “Not really. My office, boxes of clothes, inflatable bed in one corner, coffee pot and toaster in the other, nothing exciting.”

  She turned back to him causing his hands to run down her arms. “You’re sleeping on an inflatable bed when you have that just sitting down here?” she said, pointing to the unfinished bed frame.

  “That’s not mine,” he told her plainly. “So, how about that snack?”

  She shook her head, but he saw her smile while he grabbed her hand and walked out of the barn.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  She chose to eat on the swing, and as it was one of his favorite spots he couldn’t argue with her. At the car she’d tried to muscle the box of food out of the backseat, but he’d pushed her aside and carried it over to the house.

  “I didn’t know what you qualified as a snack, so I thought I’d just pack a lunch and if you didn’t want it, you could save it for later. But since I’ve been up long enough that for me this is lunch, I’ll have that sandwich, please!” He tossed her the sandwich and disappeared into the garage and came back a moment later with two bottles of water. He tossed her a bottle and she caught it with one hand.

  “Impressive, you play any ball growing up?”

  She smiled. “A bit.”

  She leaned back and indulged in her handiwork. When Linc took the empty space beside her on the swing, he gave it a little push and kicked his feet onto the coffee table. They were quiet for a bit.

  “This is going to be a really nice set up.” When he looked over at her, she continued. “So, tell me if I’ve got this straight. That is what you do when you create,” she pointed at the barn. “This is just something you’re making for yourself.” She finished by whirling her hand in a circle to imply the house.

  He looked across at the barn and then next to him where she lounged in his swing eating her sandwich. “That is what I do; this is what I’ve made. I like that.”

  “What did you learn first?”

  “My first summer job was as gopher on a construction site. I went around and cleaned up at the end of each day, and got stuck with all the bits no one else wanted. By the end of the summer I was using tools and learning everything. I took business at University, but neither classroom or an office job was for me. Fast forward a few years, I had my own crew and was my own boss. It wasn’t enough. Working off someone else’s blueprints was too restrictive. Then one day I built the right person a desk, and I didn’t have to use the hammer much after that.”

  “And now you live here?”

  “It looks that way, or at least I will be soon!” he said easily, though he knew she was steering the conversation somewhere new.

  “What drew you? Did you know anyone?” She leaned back into the collection of pillows and curled her legs up under herself. For the first time he saw her completely comfortable, no walls of protection in place.

  Seeing her at ease, he leaned himself back further and put his arm across the back. He gave them another little push and enjoyed the smooth, easy sway. “I didn’t know anyone, but I liked the area. You want to know what really drew me?”

  She smiled and nodded, encouraging him to continue.

  “The quiet. It’s a different kind of noise in the city, and I was tired of it. Here I can breathe, I can think, and I get a whole lot of work done because of those two small indulgences.”

  She looked at his hand on the back of the swing and brought her own arm back. She lifted his arm and put her hand against his before she wove her fingers through. Then she pierced him with those smoky grey eyes and a considering smile.

  “You surprise me, Linc.”

  He raised his brow and flashed a half smile. “Do I?”

  “I imagine you know it, but I’ll explain just to indulge you!” His grin gave him away and she laughed in a way that engaged his mind and whole body, as she played her fingers across his.

  “You’re smooth, don’t look surprised, you know you are!” she squeezed his hand when he laughed. “But you pay attention; you’re kind and probably extremely generous. You push when you want something, but you’re patient enough to wait. You’re not afraid to work for what you love, and I bet you can adapt pretty easily when you’re thrown a curve. How am I doing so far?”

  He liked the way she saw him, and considering he’d told her little about himself, she was pretty bang on. He danced his own fingers around hers and pulled their hands to his lips.

  “Not bad.”

  “Have you ever not got what you wanted?” she asked, when he started to pull her closer still.

  His eyes sparkled, bright and vivid blue, set perfectly in a day’s worth of unshaved face. His lips spread easily and though she stiffened slightly when he pulled her closer, her gaze shifted from eyes to mouth.

  “On occasion.”

  That made her laugh. “See, smooth!”

  “Yeah, yeah. Okay, I’m no stranger to a well-placed line. But I haven’t had a chance to use one on you. Let’s walk.” He released her hand and pushed his hands into his knees to stand. When they had begun to walk down the drive and away from the
house she took his hand again and walked where he was leading.

  “What was all that talk about possibilities the other night?”

  “That was not a line, not in any way. Believe me!”

  She stopped, and her hand halted him again with a jolt that had him turning back to her.

  “What was it then?” she asked. He turned fully into her this time. She looked like what he thought summer should be; warm, breezy, with just enough charge in the air to alert you before lightning strikes.

  “That was my first attempt at begging you for some time.” He liked his own answer and thought at that moment he was pretty darn smooth.

  “Time? Say it like it was, you were trying to pick me up!” she teased.

  He cleared another laugh from his throat, took one longer look into those eyes, and started walking. If he didn’t walk, he didn’t know what he’d do next. He’d never encountered a woman who engaged him quite this way, never mind one who could give as good as she could take while still remaining cool. Smooth seemed to desert him and he felt the lightning charging its strike.

  “Would you like me to remind you that you picked me first?”

  “I picked you first?”

  He dropped her hand and put his arm around her and pulled her close.

  “You picked me at the start of summer, and had me pining for a small piece of time from your very first plea!”

  She let his arms circle her waist and she didn’t protest when his other hand brushed the side of her neck and up into her hair. Her eyes merely drank up all remaining thought in his head. He saw her bite her bottom lip and swallow before her whisper reached his ears.

  “My first plea?”

  Her eyes; he was drowning, and he figured she had to know it. The single word that he saw repeated over and over in his head was now his own plea as he watched the memory of her mouth shape the word help.

  “Yeah, help,” he whispered, before he gave in and let the charge take over.

  She took him deep into the trees, down a narrow path that had been neglected for years. He hadn’t been aware there was a path. But it didn’t surprise him because these trees seemed to be waiting for just that sort of thing, and hadn’t he been dreaming about the paths he’d cut out of the brush for his nieces and nephew just the other day.