by Lynn Patrick
Eyeing everything she was carrying, Rick cleared his throat. “Right. Not your dog.”
She gave him her best irritated expression. Buying this stuff had broken her budget, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. “Someone had to feed him, and no one else volunteered.” Not yet.
“He’s going to eat the toys?”
“I was hoping keeping him busy would keep him quiet.” She’d told herself not to buy anything except the bare necessities, but she’d felt so sorry for the dog that resisting had been useless. “The last thing I need on the job is a barking dog.”
She started off toward the coach house, Rick keeping pace with her, and Kirby—the dog, she reminded herself—racing ahead, leash taut, even though the little stinker didn’t know where he was racing to.
Standing under the tree, Heather looked up to the branches, too high above her. “I need to be able to tie him to something that will keep him put.”
“I’ll find something,” Rick said. “You could set out his water and food.”
Heather flicked her eyebrows up. Suddenly, Rick had taken over. Still, grateful for the offered help, she did as he said while he took the dog into the coach house with him. She filled one bowl with kibble and took the other to the hose attached to the side of the house to get the dog some water.
In the meantime, Rick returned carrying a three-foot length of steel with holes in it. The dog danced around her, inspecting everything she touched. As she set down the bowl of water and the dog crowded her to get a drink, Rick used the hammer he’d brought to pound the steel more than a foot into the ground.
“What is that?”
“Just something I found in the shop. Looks like someone was building a storage unit and left the castoffs.”
When he clipped the dog’s leash to one of the holes, she said, “My, you’re inventive.”
“Just call me resourceful.”
“Okay, thanks, Resourceful.” She snorted but choked back further response.
The mirrored sunglasses aimed her way, and he rose to his full height. “What?”
She grinned up at him. “Actually, my workers already have a nickname for you.”
“What?” he asked a little louder.
“They’ve been calling you The Terminator.” Which, with his features set in a frown at the moment, he absolutely resembled. “It’s the sunglasses.” She wasn’t going to bring up his skinning the grass or plowing down the bush. “Remember, in the movie, he always wore those mirrored sunglasses that made him look so dangerous.”
“They think I look dangerous?”
At first she had, too, especially after he’d flattened her. But now that she knew him better, not so much.
“Tyrone is convinced you’re a spy,” she informed him.
Rick’s turn to snort. “A commando, maybe, but not a spy.”
“Android?” she teased.
“Thoroughly human, I promise.” His lips quirked. “You believe me, don’t you?”
“Maybe if I could see your eyes. The sunglasses do come off, right?” She’d never seen him without them.
In answer, Rick slipped off the shades.
His eyes were blue. A clear, sharp blue. And they were large and fringed with thick lashes, quite at odds with the granite features that suddenly took on a softer appearance. His eyebrows were thick, too, and they quirked upward as she scanned his whole face. Nice features. High cheekbones...determined jaw...tempting mouth. She shook away the last and told herself he was decent looking. That was it. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Still, he’d make a great-looking escort at Kristen and Alex’s wedding...
“Well?” he asked.
Her pulse was thrumming. Could she do it? Ask him?
“It’s just nice to know what you actually look like,” she admitted.
“You approve?”
Not wanting him to get a swelled head, she avoided a direct answer. “I don’t disapprove.”
She was stalling, trying to make up her mind.
“So you’re neutral,” he said.
“Like Switzerland.”
She loved that he was taking the conversation in stride, even seeming amused. She appreciated a man with a sense of humor.
He was grinning at her when he asked, “You’ve been to Switzerland?”
“No. You?”
“I’ve been to a lot of different countries all over the world,” he admitted, “but that’s still on my list of places to see. I love traveling and learning about different cultures.”
In a lot of different countries? “But you’re not a spy, right?”
“Nope.”
“So why all the traveling?”
“My father was a lifer. Army. Different bases all over the world.”
“Oh.” Now on alert, she asked, “What about you?”
“Not a lifer. At least I wasn’t planning to be. I just kind of got sucked in for so many years because it was what I knew.” His expression changed, grew a little grim. “War isn’t pretty, so when my last tour ended, I wanted to see if there was something else for me. So I decided to give civilian life a chance before I make up my mind whether or not to re-enlist.”
As he spoke, her pulse crashed.
Army...thinking of re-enlisting...
Instantly reminding her of her late husband, Scott. He’d been killed along with several other men when their truck had rolled over a land mine.
His answer made her uncomfortable, and Heather was glad to see the EPI truck pull up. “Oh, look, Tyrone and Amber are here with some of our supplies.”
As if tired of being ignored and wanting to be part of the conversation, Kirby barked and looked from her to Rick, who bent over and patted the dog.
Disappointment filled Heather. For a moment, she’d thought...but there was no way she was going to ask a man who might re-enlist in the army to escort her anywhere. Rick might be nice. And good-looking. But she’d lost one man to war. She’d been devastated, and so had her girls. What if Rick decided civilian life wasn’t for him? He might want to re-enlist. What was she thinking? She wasn’t ready for a long-term relationship anyway and didn’t know if she ever would be. She couldn’t take that kind of chance with her heart again. She’d just been thinking about Kristen is all, but Rick simply wasn’t the right man for her, not even to escort her to a wedding.
Heather gave the chew toy to the dog, patted his head and gave Rick a tight smile. “Time to get to work.”
Turning her back on them both, she raced to the truck in the parking lot. Both of her workers were already in back. Tyrone was moving bags of compost to the rear edge of the truck and handing them off to Amber, who was dropping them down onto the dolly.
“Wow, look who’s early,” Tyrone said when Heather got closer. “So what is the spy up to this morning?”
“Tyro-o-one.” Amber poked his leg. “Hi, Heather.”
Heather laughed. “At the moment, he’s up to taking care of the dog my kids found last night.”
She couldn’t help but look over to where Rick sat with the dog. They were both watching the workers with lazy interest.
Thinking about going to the wedding alone, Heather felt a twinge of disappointment.
Too bad about Rick.
He was just someone she couldn’t let into her life. She needed to keep a professional distance.
To that end, thinking he could help haul stuff where it was needed, she yelled, “Hey, Mr. Sunglasses, since you’re not doing anything, why not come over here and give us some muscle?”
Rick got to his feet almost immediately and sauntered toward them. The dog sat at alert and watched.
“I still think he’s on some secret mission.” Tyrone kept his voice low. “We should see if we can crack him. A point for ev
ery detail we learn about him. Whoever gets the most points gets free pizza for lunch.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Heather said.
“Why not?” Amber asked. “It’s all in good fun.” Then, “Hey, if you can take over here, I’ll fetch the wheelbarrow.”
Which would make things go even faster. “Great.” Heather grabbed a bag from Tyrone and lowered it to the stack already on the dolly. “This is pretty full. I’d say just one more.”
Tyrone handed her a bag, then jumped down from the back of the truck. “I’ll take these over to the rain garden.”
The idea was to move the supplies directly to the site where they would be used. Which meant bags of compost and potting soil would be piled up in several areas for the next couple of weeks. They would need the bags of mortar and the quarry gray blocks to build the rain garden retaining walls today. A lot more was coming—boards for raised beds and Wisconsin bluestone for another terrace with built-in seating and a fire pit. Heather was trying not to order too much at once. The bed and breakfast was about to get busy, and she knew the owner did not want his guests to be inconvenienced. That was why she’d decided to start with the beach area, the walkway and rain gardens—they were all directly between the mansion and the lake.
Rick jumped up on the back of the truck as Tyrone left with the full dolly. Leaving her alone with the man.
Not exactly what she’d had in mind.
“Are you sure you can handle this?” Rick asked, placing another bag at the edge of the truck.
“Of course.”
Not that Heather was certain at all. Nor did she mean hauling weight. She was stronger than she looked. But just thinking about Rick had put her on edge, and working this closely with him was probably a mistake.
Thankfully, Amber returned with the empty wheelbarrow.
“You two fill that while I help Tyrone unload the dolly,” Heather said, already running off to catch up with him.
Over the next hour, they worked together smoothly, and Heather kept getting snatches of conversation between Rick and Tyrone or Rick and Amber. Or rather...interrogations.
“So, what did you say your name was?” Amber asked.
“You can call me...The Terminator.”
Heather bit her lip so she wouldn’t laugh out loud.
It was on.
“Where is it you said you were from?” Tyrone asked Rick a little later.
“Here, there and everywhere. No particular place.”
Zero for Tyrone.
“Are you married or do you have a significant other?” Amber asked.
“You’re a little young for me,” Rick returned.
The game went on as they unloaded and delivered the bags to the work sites. The last job was to get the blocks in place to start on the retaining walls. When the truck was empty, Rick excused himself, said he had something to take care of. On his way back to his apartment in the coach house, however, he stopped to visit with the dog. Kirby seemed thrilled by the attention.
Heather was a little thrilled, too. She couldn’t keep from watching the man.
“I couldn’t get a single thing out of him,” Tyrone said, his voice rife with disgust.
“Me, neither.” Amber cleared her throat. “I wonder why he said to call him The Terminator.”
Heather bit back a smile as she turned to face them. “His name is Rick Slater. He’s single. He’s army. And he’s trying out civilian life to determine if he can make it or if he’s better off re-enlisting.”
Tyrone scowled. “Hunh. I guess we get to buy your pizza today.”
CHAPTER FIVE
THE EPI TEAM worked straight through the day, pausing briefly only for lunch. As promised, Tyrone and Amber bought a couple of pizzas to pay off their debt to Heather. Heather herself sprang for soft drinks and some small salads to offset the carbs. The group offered pizza to Rick, but he grinned and said he was already having lunch inside the mansion. It seemed that he got free room and board in return for his services, Heather noted. Maybe his salary as a “handyman” wasn’t all that high.
Later, as afternoon wore on, they were ready for a break. Heather collapsed on a bench beneath a small but shady Hackberry tree and sipped some iced tea from the cooler she’d brought. Tyrone stretched out for a catnap near a copse of bushes and Amber wandered off to take a closer look at Lake Michigan. The day was gorgeous with full golden sun that made the water sparkle as blue-green as the Caribbean. Not that she’d ever been to the Caribbean, Heather thought wryly, but she’d seen pictures of its turquoise seas and inviting white beaches.
Travel would have to wait for another day. Another year. Probably for another decade or two. At the moment, she had other kinds of beauty in her life, and the most important two soon came running toward her across the lawn, shrieking with excitement. She waved to the neighbor who had dropped them off so she wouldn’t have to leave work early.
Then Heather steeled herself for impact and leaned forward to grab both twins in an expansive hug. She dropped kisses on their little heads.
“Mommy!” cried Addison.
“We had hot dogs for lunch!” announced Taylor.
“Ooh, I bet that made you happy!” said Heather. Although she considered hot dogs to be junk food, the camp had promised healthier versions with all-beef meat and whole grain buns. “We’ll leave as soon as I finish things up here. What did you do today?”
“We made Native A-mer-i-can bracelets.” Addison showed her mother her wrist. She was wearing a bracelet of woven threads bedecked with several colorful beads. She had a similar one on her other wrist and, Heather noted, what appeared to be numbers in messy black marker smeared across the palm of her hand.
“Here’s mine,” added Taylor, showing the bracelet she’d made.
“Very pretty,” said Heather, equally admiring, then returned to the smeary numbers on Addison’s skin. “What’s this?”
“Addison has a boyfriend,” chanted Taylor in a sing-song voice.
Addison giggled. “Chad wants me to call him. He wrote down his number.” Then she pointed to the second bracelet she wore. “He gave me this, too.”
Taylor continued to chant, “Boyfriend... boyfriend...”
“I didn’t know you were such a little temptress.” Heather had to laugh.
Addison frowned. “What’s a temptress?”
“Oh, just someone who’s popular,” Heather fibbed. She ruffled both girls’ hair. “Can you two find something to play with while I finish up?”
She had to change her clothing before they left because she was due at Sew Fine for a bridal shower this evening and she couldn’t wear her landscaping clothes. She needed to pick up Aunt Margaret and drop off the twins to be watched by her brother, Brian. With all the wedding activities going on, the coming weeks would be very busy, and she could already feel things accelerating.
“Let’s make a house under a tree!” cried Addison, taking off.
“We can play with Kirby!” shouted Taylor, following her sister.
Heather wanted to make sure they were safe. “Don’t go down by the lake!” she called. “Stay out here where I can see you.”
As she watched the twins run across the lawn, she saw that Tyrone had sat up and was watching them with a big grin. He looked wide awake and ready to get back to work. Now all they had to do was rustle up Amber so they could be ready to pack up and leave in another hour.
* * *
RICK HAD HEARD all the shrieking and came out to stand beneath the shady overhang at the mansion’s back door. He wasn’t used to children, hadn’t had much experience with them, but he thought Heather’s pair were certainly cute. Dressed in a bright green T-shirt and shorts, one little blond-haired girl was jumping up and down along a planting bed near the edge of the lawn, while
the other, all in purple, seemed to be wrestling with the dog Heather had shown up with that morning. Obviously an animal who liked kids, the dog looked like he was having a great time, yipping and licking his attacker in the face when she turned him on his back.
Rick laughed, enjoying the entertainment, though he figured such energy must drive any adult crazy at times, including their mother. Heather had said she was single. What happened to the girls’ father? he wondered. Raising two kids alone was a huge responsibility.
Rick was approaching the girl with the dog when he saw her start yanking on the leash clipped to the post he’d planted in the ground.
“Need some help?” he asked.
She looked up at him suspiciously, her blue eyes narrowing. “This is my dog, Kirby.”
“You want to take Kirby for a walk?” He figured the dog could use some exercise after being tied up all day. “Maybe I can help you get him to heel.”
“I want to walk him by myself.”
“Well, okay.” Rick released the leash, which the little girl immediately snatched out of his hand. “Be careful, though. He weighs about as much as you do.” Which he’d estimate was at least forty pounds.
“Kirby, Kirby!” cried the other twin, running up to see what was going on.
“Hi,” Rick said. “And who might you be?” He knew their names, but he didn’t know who was who.
“I’m Addison.” She gestured to her sister. “And this is Taylor.”
“Glad to meet you both. I’m Rick.”
“Can I try on your sunglasses?” Addison asked.
She had such a charming smile, Rick couldn’t resist. He took them off, and while he squatted to slip them onto her small face, Taylor and the dog took off.
“Hey, be careful!” Rick yelled.
Taylor made no reply but at least she was heading across the lawn, half skipping, rather than going toward the lake.