Finding His Way Home

by Mia Ross

  She had their attention now, and she picked up a pencil to draw while she described her suggestion for addressing their dilemma. In a nutshell, it amounted to custom-fitting each piece, adjusting the dimensions as they went. That way, the human eye would see straight lines, even if technically there weren’t any. When she was finished, she looked around the masculine circle and was thrilled to find them all nodding.

  “Makes sense to me,” Jason said first and then glanced over at Chelsea. “Sorry for getting so loud. We’re just trying to make it perfect for you guys.”

  “I know. But in the interests of family peace and quiet—” she nailed Paul with a disapproving look “—I think Jenna’s idea is the best approach.”

  “Just out of curiosity,” Scott began, glancing from Amy to Jenna. “What are you two doing here?”

  “Girl stuff,” Chelsea informed him primly, turning on her heel to head toward the stairs. “We have a lot to talk about, so keep it down or I’ll call your mother.”

  Upstairs in the nursery, Chelsea turned to her guests with a sigh. “It’s been like that all morning. I love them, but sometimes...”

  “Bullheaded Barretts,” Amy groused with an indulgent smile that gave away her true feelings. “Gotta love ’em.”

  “Or not,” Jenna piped up, making them all laugh.

  “So, what do you need?” Chelsea asked as they crossed the room to where the mural was half sketch and half misty painting.

  Studying it to refresh her memory, she tapped her chin and frowned. “These dancing animals look stiff to me.”

  “They’re two-dimensional,” Amy reminded her. “There’s not much you can do about that.”

  “Maybe not, but I want them to look more like the ballerina at Arabesque. Amy posed for that to give me a starting point, and I think that might work here, too. If you two could help me out, I’ll give it another go.”

  They eagerly agreed, and she let each of them find a comfortable dancing position they could hold for a few minutes while she fixed her drawing. Inspired, she dug in her front pockets and found several pieces of chalk left over from the terra-cotta pot she’d been working on that morning.

  Moving quickly, she shaded in the green grass and leaves, then added some brown and blue, accenting everything with a peachy color she blended with her fingertips. Later, she’d go over them with paint, but for now it was a huge improvement. When she stepped back, she couldn’t keep back a smile. “Much better.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Chelsea breathed, slowly shaking her head. “I’ve never watched you work, and now that I have I’m even more impressed by how talented you are.”

  Jenna’s cheeks warmed, and she averted her eyes while she jammed the chalk back into her overalls. “Thanks.”

  “Have you ever thought about displaying your art in a gallery somewhere?” Amy asked. “There’s one in Roanoke, and I’m sure they’d love what you do.”

  “Maybe,” she hedged. When they eyed her curiously, she gave in with a laugh. “Okay, you caught me. It’s a dream of mine to be featured in an actual gallery someday. The problem is, they have to be able to sell what I bring them. That means I’d have to give them what their clients are looking for, and that means—”

  “You’d have to play by the rules,” Chelsea finished with an understanding smile. “I hear you. It’s a lot more fun to do things on your own terms than follow someone else’s agenda.”

  “I still think you could have it both ways,” Amy insisted, her dancer’s soul shining in her eyes. “There’s nothing more amazing than sharing your gifts with people who can truly appreciate them.”

  “Maybe,” Jenna repeated. “But for now, I’m happy to have this—” she tapped the evolving mural “—figured out. Now that I’m not stuck, it should be done next week.”

  One more project down, she thought. One day closer to leaving. It seemed that as her time here continued to dwindle, the more she doubted it was the right way for her to go. Pushing her predicament aside, she focused on what Chelsea was saying.

  “—would love to have you stay for dinner. Paul’s trying out his new grill, and I think he bought enough meat for half the town. He also said something about finishing the horseshoe pit out back, so it could be pretty entertaining watching the boys try to outdo each other.”

  “Count us in,” Amy chimed in immediately. “After all that nonsense earlier, the guys can make it up to us by taking care of dinner.”

  They all laughed, and as they made their way downstairs, Jenna felt something she couldn’t quite identify at first. When they reconnected with the guys, though, it hit her with a certainty that made her question why she hadn’t seen it before.

  She belonged here.

  With these warm, engaging women and the funny, aggravating men who’d nearly come to blows over a woodworking project. When Scott glanced up from the piece of trim he was measuring and grinned at her, she felt a sudden rush of emotions so strong she actually lost her breath.

  His jaw tensed, and he hurried over to where she was trying to regain her balance. “You okay?”

  “Fine,” she managed to answer more or less normally. “Why?”

  “You just went white as a sheet, that’s why. Come on, let’s get you some fresh air.”

  She wasn’t usually prone to any kind of spells, but this one was a doozy. Bewildered by what was happening to her, Jenna allowed him to lead her onto the front porch and guide her to sit on the top step.

  Settling in beside her, he studied her with dark, anxious eyes. “You want some water?”

  “No, I’ll be okay. I guess it was all the dust you guys are kicking up in there.” She offered up a weak smile that clearly didn’t fool him for a second.

  “You work with plaster and ceramics every day,” he said bluntly. “You’re used to a little dust.”

  “The heat, then.” What was wrong with her? She detested women who behaved like hothouse orchids that couldn’t bear up under the slightest strain. Giving herself a mental shake, she forced a more convincing smile. “Whatever it was, I’m over it. Sorry to worry you.”

  “You’re sure?” When she nodded, he gave her a long, dubious look. “Okay, but I’m gonna keep an eye on you. If you start getting pale like that again, I’m taking you to a doctor.”

  “Okay.”

  Suddenly tired beyond words, she rested her head on his strong shoulder and closed her eyes. Without a word, he put his arm around her in a protective gesture that made her heart sigh in contentment.

  For so long, she’d relied only on herself, terrified of creating the kind of bond that had the potential to break her heart. Somehow, when she hadn’t been paying attention, Scott had come to mean much more to her than he should have. Even now, cuddled against him on this sunny afternoon, she knew she should politely disentangle herself and go home.

  But she didn’t.

  * * *

  “Are you gonna finish that?” Jason asked, pointing his fork at the small hunk of sausage left on Scott’s plate.

  “Knock yourself out.” Stuffed to the gills with grilled chicken, sausage and peppers, he leaned back in his lawn chair and tipped his head back with a sigh. “Hope y’all don’t mind having me for company tonight, ’cause I can’t move.”

  “Anyone who stays has to help me finish up that wainscoting,” Paul told him, probably only half-joking.

  “Whatever.”

  The afternoon had rolled on into a leisurely evening in Paul and Chelsea’s backyard, testing a variety of meats and vegetables on the grill, putting away gallons of sweet tea, talking and laughing about nothing in particular. The breeze swept through once in a while, rustling the branches overhead and picking up the scents and sounds of other folks enjoying their own barbecues.

  Serene but fun, it brought to mind those long-ago summer nights when he’
d been growing up in this tiny, close-knit community that managed to defy the modern world and remain the same year after year. When he was younger, he’d considered that a drawback to life in Barrett’s Mill. Now, like the creek that ran behind his house, it was comforting in a way he never would have anticipated as an eighteen-year-old eager to explore the country.

  Jenna being there with him had a lot to do with his contentment, he recognized. Lolling his head to the side, he watched her chatting with Amy, both of them animated and laughing at something he suspected wouldn’t make a lick of sense to him. Much as he liked his own company these days, he couldn’t deny that Jenna’s bright energy was like a beacon for him, lighting his way back to the trail he’d abandoned years ago.

  It might not be as exciting as traveling wherever his imagination took him, but that didn’t mean it was bad. Since leaving his very traditional roots, right and wrong gradually had become so murky for him, he’d lost his ability to tell the difference between them. Without being preachy, Jenna had reminded him, helping him correct his course to one he could be proud of.

  No matter what happened between them, he’d always be grateful to her for that. He only hoped that before she left, he’d be able to come up with a way to thank her properly for all she’d done.

  Scott’s meandering thoughts came to a sudden halt when a huge burgundy truck turned in from Ingram Street and parked behind the other cars in the driveway. With flames painted along both sides and tires taller than most men, it looked like an escapee from the monster-truck expo. Letting out a whistle, he said, “Nice wheels. Whose truck is that?”

  No one answered, but his brothers traded a look that told him they’d cooked this up together. Never a good sign. “Aw, come on,” he groaned. “You know how much I hate surprises.”

  “Not this one,” Paul commented with a grin.

  Scott glanced over again and actually blinked in disbelief as he slowly got to his feet. After climbing down, the tall, long-legged driver striding toward them grinned and made a beeline for where he stood. “How you been, Scotty?”

  “Heath?” The two embraced warmly, and he asked, “Last I heard, you were dangling off an oil rig in Alaska somewhere. What’re you doing here?”

  “Same thing you boys are, apparently,” he replied easily, greeting everyone with a quick wave. “Eating Paul outta house and home. Plus, I heard something about horseshoes. Do you boys throw ’em the hard way, or do you still take ’em off the horse first?”

  Chuckling at that, Paul offered a hand and then turned to his wife. “You remember Heath Weatherby, don’t you?”

  “Vividly,” she replied with a laugh of her own and then hugged him. “Welcome home.”

  “Thanks.” Turning to Amy, he said, “Your uncle wanted me to tell you the new alternator he ordered for your car came in today. I’ll install it on Monday and drop the car off at your place. If you have any more problems, just let me know.”

  “That works. Thanks so much.”

  “Anytime.”

  When Scott noticed Jenna eyeballing their guest, he remembered his manners and introduced her. “Heath, this is Jenna Reed, our resident artist.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Giving her a quick once-over, he added an approving male grin. “I’m no expert, but I’d say you make this town pretty enough just by walking around.”

  “Down, boy,” Scott grumbled, pushing him onto a bench with a little more force than was strictly necessary. They’d been friends since birth, and Heath gave Scott a wink of understanding that irritated him for some reason. After all, it wasn’t as if he and Jenna were a couple and she was off-limits to other guys. Hoping to smooth over his uncharacteristic behavior, he took the seat next to their guest. “So, what’ve you been up to?”

  While Heath kept them entertained with stories from the Great White North, Scott was careful not to look over at Jenna too often. Heath was pretty sharp, and if he sensed there was something going on between the two of them, Scott would never hear the end of it. He still wasn’t entirely certain how he felt about her, but one thing he knew for sure.

  He didn’t want to talk to anyone about it.

  “Tell me,” Heath said while he piled food on his plate. “Who drew the short straw and ended up with that old sawmill truck?”

  Scott chuckled. “That’d be me.”

  “How’s it running?”

  “Off and on, like always. Why? Are you offering to help me fix it for real?”

  “Sure.” Grinning, Heath added, “It’s not every day I get to work on something that should’ve been put on display at the Smithsonian before I was born. I’m off Thursday, so I could take a look at it then.”

  “Works for me. I’m staying out at the old homestead these days, so come by whenever it works for you.”

  With that settled, they joined the general conversation. Heath contributed the same easygoing wit Scott recalled from their high school days, but he couldn’t miss the fact that it had a different quality now. Forced almost, as if his old friend was trying very hard to make everyone believe he was the same confident, chipper guy he’d been back then.

  Before he could give that any further thought, Jenna yawned behind her hand and stood up. “I hate to be the first one to leave, but I’ve got an early start in the morning. Thanks so much for everything, guys. I had a great time.”

  “I’ll walk you back to your van,” Scott offered, standing to join her. Once she circled the group with goodbye hugs, he fell into step beside her as they headed for Arabesque. “Driving the dog portrait to Roanoke tomorrow, right?”

  “Yeah. It’s a hike, and I figure the sooner I go, the sooner I’ll be back.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “Your friend Heath seems nice,” she ventured with a sidelong glance. “I can just imagine all the trouble you two caused in high school.”

  “Yeah, we were quite the pair,” he agreed with a chuckle. “I’m glad Paul invited him over. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.”

  “So, you’re not a natural hermit. It’s good to know you can actually kick back and enjoy yourself once in a while.” Playfully punching his arm, she flashed him a smile.

  “It all depends on who I’m with,” he replied as they stopped near her van. The early moonlight was reflected in her eyes, and he gave in to a smile of his own. “I always have fun when I’m with you.”

  “I’m sure you say that to all the girls.”

  “Not hardly.” He knew his fascination with her must be easy to see, but he no longer cared. Moving slowly, he leaned in to brush a kiss over her lips. They curved in a way he felt rather than saw, and he drew back to rest his forehead on hers. “I really wish you could stay for the summer.”

  “Well, I’m here now. Let’s make the most of it.”

  Dialing up the wattage on her smile, she reached up to his cheek and drew him back in for another, deeper kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, savoring that one perfect moment with her. Wishing it could last, but understanding why that kind of relationship wasn’t possible for them.

  For tonight at least, he and Jenna were together, and everything was right with his world. He’d worry about the rest tomorrow.

  Chapter Nine

  When a delivery truck pulled up in front of Jenna’s studio Thursday afternoon, Gretchen looked up from her drawing with curiosity. “Were you expecting something?”

  “My friend Kurt must’ve finished our stained-glass sheets,” Jenna answered, wiping her hands on a paint rag. “He said they were a real challenge, so I can’t wait to see how they turned out.”

  The deliveryman carefully rolled the heavily padded panes inside and glanced around. “Wow, this is quite the place. Must be fun working in here every day.”

  It was, Jenna agreed silently. Ever since the other night, when Scot
t surprised her with a kiss and a thinly veiled request to stay longer, she hadn’t been able to think about much else. Renewing her lease would be simple enough, and if she put out the word that she’d be around, she would have more work than she could manage.

  Unfortunately, that nagging voice in the back of her mind kept piping up to remind her of all the reasons she should move on. That list was long, but on the other side of the ledger was one very important reason to ignore them all. Scott.

  Pushing aside those conflicting thoughts, she signed the driver’s clipboard and handed him a tip. “Thanks for being so careful with them.”

  “Well, they’re labeled Fragile,” he pointed out, tipping his cap and pivoting his hand truck on its wheels on his way to the door. “You ladies have a good day.”

  Gretchen was bouncing from one sneaker to the other like a kid waiting to meet her new puppy. Looking from the tantalizing packages to Jenna, she asked, “Can we open them now?”

  Trusting that Kurt had protected his handiwork to the nth degree, Jenna nodded. They peeled away layer after layer of Bubble Wrap until the large worktable held four large sheets of glass nestled in thick cardboard frames to keep the edges safe. Emerald, cobalt, crimson and gold, the colors had so much depth, they almost seemed to breathe.

  “They’re gorgeous.” Staring at them as if they were precious jewels, Gretchen reached her hands out to touch the most beautiful raw material Jenna had ever gotten to work with. “It’s almost a shame to cut them, isn’t it?”

  Her sensitivity was touching, and Jenna patted her shoulder in approval. “Not many people would see it that way.”

  “You mean kids,” the girl corrected her with a crooked grin. “I know folks think teenagers are nothing but trouble, but that’s not true.”

  Laughing, Jenna tugged her assistant’s French braid. “Yeah, you’re pretty okay. Let’s take some pictures before we slice this stuff up.”

  They each posed for the other to get a few shots, then laid out the templates they’d designed based on the Welsh chapel Gretchen had uncovered during her research on the Barretts. They’d basically be breaking the glass, so while they traced, they adjusted the markings to ensure the brittle material would crack along lines as straight as possible.