Loving The Country Boy (Barrett's Mill Book 4)

by Mia Ross

  “I can only imagine.”

  In the lobby Heath glanced over the Dutch door into the office. Stunned by what he saw, he had to look again to be sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. They weren’t, and he whistled in amazement. “It looks great in there. What’d you do—burn everything?”

  “Filing, filing and more filing,” she replied with a laugh. “I’ve spent most of the week logging things in and moving them from the ‘to-do’ pile to the ‘done’ pile. It was tedious and boring, but I finally got everything caught up and put away.”

  Something in her tone alerted him that things weren’t as simple as that, and he frowned. “And?”

  She studied him for a few moments, and he got the distinct impression she was trying to decide if she could trust him with whatever she had to say. Looking over her shoulder, she came back to him and murmured, “Not here.”

  “How ’bout out there?” he asked, nodding out the side window toward the woods. “I could use a walk, anyway.”

  “What about your lunch?”

  Reaching over the door, he plucked an old wool blanket off the chair where Daisy liked to nap and draped it over his shoulder. “We’ll call it a picnic. I’ll even share my sandwich with you.”

  “Gram packed me some leftovers. I just didn’t have the stomach for them earlier.”

  Must be bad, he thought while Tess got her own lunch from the small office fridge. When they had everything, he followed her down the porch steps and out toward the trail Boyd had worn through the undergrowth from the sawmill to Scott and Jenna’s place upstream.

  Figuring she needed this field trip more than he did, Heath let Tess lead the way and the conversation. She chattered on about clerical issues he had little understanding of, but they seemed important to her, so he did his best to keep up with what she was telling him. As they strolled alongside Sterling Creek, she seemed to relax a bit more with each step, and he was glad to see the fresh air seemed to be making her feel better.

  For his part, he’d taken this path many times over the years, but it never failed to impress him. With some of their leaves already gone, the branches overhead let plenty of sunlight through, and it played over the bubbling water like a spotlight. He saw a flash of minnows under the surface and assessed the progress a family of beavers had made on their small dam since the last time he was out here.

  When he was growing up, he’d often explored the acres of forest surrounding the mill with Will Barrett and his grandsons. Mostly a way to get them out from underfoot while people were trying to work, Will also used those hikes to teach them how to identify various trees and critters they shared the property with.

  In his memory, he could still hear the old woodsman’s voice. Give the wild things their space, and they’ll do the same for you.

  When Heath shared that memory with Tess, she gave him a sad smile. “Every time someone mentions Granddad, I love him more. I wish so much that I could’ve met him.”

  “Me, too. Whenever I’m here, I get the feeling he’s still around, keeping an eye on the place.” He offered her a reassuring smile. “I’m sure he’s real proud of you.”

  She gave him a long, doubtful look. “You honestly believe he’s up there somewhere—” she arced her hand through the air “—watching over all of us?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Faith means believing in something just because you do,” he explained gently, hoping to make her understand. “You must’ve felt that way about something in your life at one point or another.”

  After a moment she gave him a sour look. “Yes, and look where it got me. Dis-engaged and unemployed.”

  “You’re too young to be that cynical.”

  “And too old to be naive,” she spat back. “So where does that leave me?”

  Clearly frustrated, she stared off into the distance, and he assumed her question was intended to hang in the air, unanswered. He sent up a quick prayer for this bitter, disillusioned young woman who’d lost so much and seemed to have no idea where she was going next. Not long ago he’d experienced something very similar, and he understood all too well how demoralizing it could be.

  Eager to change the subject, he said, “I finished with Olivia’s car this morning. Fred’s dropping it off on his way home.”

  “That’s nice of him.”

  “Nice, nothing,” he corrected her with a grin. “Everyone knows she bakes on Saturdays, and he’s probably hoping to get himself something good to eat.”

  That made her laugh, and he congratulated himself on lightening her mood a bit. She was edgier than usual, and while he was anxious to learn what was bugging her, he didn’t want to push her to talk. He hated it when folks did that to him, and he wasn’t about to make that mistake with Tess.

  “Oh, look,” she murmured, stopping to point out a red fox edging from the woods to get a drink. When another appeared, she sighed quietly. “They’re so beautiful.”

  “Yeah, they are.” They watched the animals until they were finished drinking and trotted back in the same direction they’d come from. Figuring this was as good a place as any, Heath flung the blanket out and motioned to her. “After you.”

  She rewarded him with a bright smile that rivaled the sunshine. “You have to be the sweetest guy I’ve ever met. After I just about bit your head off, too.”

  “I hate to break this to you, darlin’,” he said with a laugh, “but you don’t scare me. My rig boss in Alaska was way meaner than you.”

  “It works with everyone else,” she complained with a fairly convincing pout.

  “I guess I’m not like them.”

  Those keen eyes studied him for a long moment, and she slowly nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

  Once seated, they both spread out their lunches on the blanket in an unspoken agreement to share. Olivia’s meat loaf complemented his roast beef sandwich perfectly, and they combined the fruit they’d brought into a nice salad. Leaning back on his elbows, he stretched out his legs and dropped his head back to watch a bank of fluffy clouds drifting through the sky. “Sure beats eating in the back room with the crew.”

  “Do you mean the food or the company?”

  Rolling his head to look over at her, he grinned. “Both.”

  “Flattery will get you nowhere with me, country boy,” she warned, though the sudden blush on her cheeks said otherwise. “But you get an A for effort.”

  “No effort involved. Just callin’ it like I see it.”

  That made her laugh, which was a real achievement considering the foul mood she’d been in earlier. “The girls around here must fall all over themselves trying to get your attention.”

  “Nah. I’m just Heath, the goofball they all grew up with.”

  “That’s not what the girls around here say,” she informed him as she popped a melon ball in her mouth. “I heard you were quite the ladies’ man.”

  Her tone was light, but in her eyes he saw something quite different. He got the feeling she was testing him, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. “That was a long time ago. I’m not looking for that anymore.”

  “Because of your accident?” When he nodded, she frowned. “It changed a lot of things for you, didn’t it?”

  “If it didn’t, I’d get my head examined. Something like that makes you take a good look at yourself, and when you do that, you find some stuff you like and some you don’t.” She didn’t say anything, but he could see he had her full attention. Sensing an opportunity to make a point with her, he forged ahead. “We can’t change what happened to us in the past, but the future is wide open. We can make that better if we want.”

  She absorbed that while picking through the salad for more watermelon. “What do you see in your future?”

  “A wife who thinks
I hung the moon, and a bunch of kids who think I’m the greatest dad ever.”

  “Really?” Tess asked incredulously. “That’s all?”

  Sadly, her response didn’t surprise him, and he met it with as much understanding as he could. “To me, that’s everything.”

  After chewing for a few moments, she said, “I guess it’s nice to know what you want.”

  “Yeah, it is.” She’d pulled back from him, and he decided it was time to shift to a less personal subject. “So, what did you wanna tell me before?”

  Sighing, she swallowed some of her water. “The mill’s not doing well.”

  “What else is new?”

  “I mean, really not well. Every number I come up with is red, and Chelsea’s income projections are horrible. Things tick up at the holidays, but once that work goes away, things nosedive in a hurry. If we don’t come up with something new to entice people to buy their furniture from us, we’ll hardly be able to make our loan payments, much less pay everyone. Why on earth are you smiling?” she demanded angrily.

  “You keep saying we. Like you consider yourself part of the crew now.”

  “Well, I—” she began, obviously caught off guard by his assessment. A few seconds later, she gave him a slowly dawning smile. “I suppose I do feel that way, even though I haven’t been here very long. Weird, huh?”

  “Cool,” he corrected her with an encouraging grin. “Anyway, sounds to me like things are the same with the business as they’ve always been. It’s not a gold mine, y’know.”

  “We either have to increase our revenue or cut expenses somehow. It’s great that we don’t use a ton of electricity because of the waterwheel, but the price we’re paying for our raw materials is ridiculous.”

  “When they were in Oregon, Paul and Jason worked for the logging outfit that supplies the reclaimed timber,” Heath explained. “Building custom pieces from those old trees is part of what makes Barrett’s Mill Furniture unique.”

  “They could use other wood for some projects. Cutting that cost in half would go a long way toward improving the bottom line.”

  “This place isn’t about the bottom line. It’s about tradition. Since it opened, this mill has been the Barretts’ legacy. Your legacy,” he added, hoping to appeal to her growing fondness for the family she’d only begun getting to know.

  “If everyone’s out of a job, they won’t care very much about tradition,” she grumbled.

  He understood her stance on this particular angle of the problem. Losing her position at the boutique she liked so much had left her pride bruised, and she was still recovering from the added impact of her fiancé’s betrayal. Because he could relate to having everything you relied on yanked out from under you, he decided it was best to give her a break on this one.

  “Paul will come up with something,” he promised her with a reassuring smile. “He always does.”

  “What if this time he can’t? Then what?”

  “Then we’ll boot him out and stage a coup,” he suggested, adding a villainous cackle. “I’ll take over the equipment, you put a block on the computers. No one could do a thing to stop us.”

  His outrageous suggestion had the intended effect, and mischief twinkled in her eyes. “And then?”

  “You’re the brains, sweetheart,” he told her with a wink. “I’m just the muscle.”

  Laughing, she held up her water, and they tapped their bottles to seal their arrangement. Her concerns hadn’t gone away, of course, but Heath was confident that if they all put their heads together, they’d be able to work their way out of the red.

  Failure simply wasn’t an option for the Barretts. Because as far as he knew, there was no Plan B.

  Chapter Seven

  What was that incredible smell?

  Cracking one eye open, Tess peeked at the vintage alarm clock on her bedside table and saw it was nearly nine on Sunday morning. Outside her window, sunlight was trying to make its way through the overlying clouds, while a neighbor’s dog barked at whatever had caught his attention. Someone shouted for him to knock it off, and the sound trailed off into a compliant whimper. Shortly after that, though, he started up again, and she heard the slam of a screen door before everything went quiet again.

  Considering the long, challenging week she’d had at the mill, she’d anticipated sleeping until noon and enjoying a peaceful breakfast in her grandmother’s kitchen. When she finally identified the aroma drifting upstairs as roast beef, Tess suspected her plan was about to be thwarted by one of Gram’s famous Barrett family gatherings. Jenna had told her about them, and Tess was looking forward to experiencing one for herself. She just wasn’t figuring it would be today.

  More curious than disappointed, she pulled on her robe and padded down the hallway in her bare feet. The upper floor of the old farmhouse housed five bedrooms, a testament to several generations of large families. Granddad had grown up here, she recalled as she peered into the spare room across from hers. Then he and Gram had raised their own family, and now the place stood mostly empty.

  Not lonely, though, she thought with a smile as she headed down the front stairs. The comfortable old house echoed with memories, and if she used her imagination, she could imagine her cousins sliding down the mahogany banister to the ground floor. Racing, probably.

  Had her father done that as a child? she wondered, running a hand down the polished railing and over the hand-carved newel post. She couldn’t picture him being mischievous and carefree, but she’d only known him as an adult, and a detached one at that. When he’d left his homespun roots behind to make his fortune, had he lost a part of himself that he couldn’t get back?

  “Good morning, Tessie,” Gram sang when she entered the kitchen. “Sleep well?”

  “Like a rock. You’ve been busy in here,” she added, nodding at what looked like preparations for an army feast. “What’s up?”

  “It’s Sunday.”

  The offhanded reply stunned Tess, who saw her parents rarely and only connected with her older siblings when they put in an appearance at her mother’s obligatory holiday party. “You have a family dinner here every Sunday?”

  “Of course. Cooking is like any other skill...use it or lose it.”

  That phrase sounded hilarious coming from a petite eighty-year-old woman, and Tess couldn’t keep back a laugh. “That makes sense, I guess. Can I do anything to help?”

  “The girls and I agreed to bring everything to Paul and Chelsea’s after church. If you could bring in those covered serving dishes from the pantry, that would be nice.”

  “Are you sure Chelsea’s up for so much company?”

  “Paul all but begged us to come over and visit for a while. Chelsea’s feeling cooped up and thinks she’s missing all the goings-on around town.” Gram paused with a wistful look. “I can relate to that. When your granddad was so sick, I kept luring folks over here to make sure he didn’t feel too isolated. Sometimes people think you want peace and quiet when you’re fighting so hard, but what he really wanted was to feel like he was still part of things. Chelsea needs that as much as rest right now, so we’re making sure she gets it.”

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea.” Tess approved wholeheartedly. It certainly beat curling up in a ball and waiting for the situation to improve on its own. Which she knew from personal experience. When she was finished bringing in the travel dishes, she asked, “Anything else?”

  Gram glanced up at the clock. “That’s it for now. If I don’t get going, I’ll be late for church.”

  She was already dressed in nice clothes, so Tess was confused. “It’s just up the street. Now that your car’s back, it should take you less than a minute.”

  “Oh, I don’t drive to church. I walk.”

  That didn’t seem wise to Tess, and she searched for a diplomatic way to say so. “The
weather app on my phone says it’s kind of chilly outside.”

  “My trip to the backyard tells me it’s a good day for a sweater, but I’ll be fine.”

  “What if it rains?”

  Cocking her head, Gram gave her a knowing look. “Are you trying to say you think I’m too old to walk half a mile through town?”

  “Umm...”

  “It’s sweet of you to worry, dear,” Gram said, gently patting her cheek, “but there’s really no need. On the way, I always run into the Morgans and Donaldsons and plenty of other folks heading in the same direction. They’ll keep an eye on me, if that makes you feel better.”

  Tess noticed her very diplomatic grandmother hadn’t even hinted that they might walk to church together. The message was clear: if Tess wanted to come along, that was fine. If not, Gram would accept that decision, too. For someone who’d spent a lifetime chafing against other people’s expectations of her, that kind of tolerance was liberating.

  Then one of the names Gram had mentioned registered more clearly. “You said Donaldson. Do you mean Paige’s grandparents?”

  “That’s right, I forgot you girls met the other day. Paige got her mother’s looks, bless her, but inherited Ike’s grit. He and Lila stood up for us at our wedding, and we did the same for them.”

  “I like Paige,” Tess commented, her wavering attitude about church suddenly gone. “And I wouldn’t mind meeting them.”

  Gram beamed her approval. “I think they’d enjoy that, too. I’ll wait while you get ready.”

  “Thanks.”

  In the center of the table, there was a plate stacked with blueberry muffins, and she grabbed one on her way by. The enormous muffin was still warm, and she hummed her opinion as the first bite all but melted in her mouth. She sincerely doubted there was a high-end bakery anywhere on the planet that could compete with Gram’s cooking.