by Mia Ross
Not much got by her, and she tilted her head with a knowing look. “You milled them yourself, didn’t you?”
“Well...yeah. The crew’s real busy, so I went in after hours and cherry-picked the leftovers for this place. I gotta be honest, getting the waterwheel fired up to run the saws was the hardest part,” he confided with a chuckle. “Paul showed me how to do it, and it’s not that complicated. The old works didn’t give him a lick of trouble, but I’m telling you that thing hates me.”
“Tourists love it, though. When all the saws are going, the whole building shakes, and you can’t hear anything else above all that racket. It’s really cool, especially when you realize it was all built by hand and gets its power from little old Sterling Creek.”
She pointed out one of the window openings toward the stream, appreciation shining in her expressive eyes. Since coming home, Scott had reconnected with the homestead and historic sawmill the original Barretts had built so long ago. Discovering that Jenna shared his reverence for what his ancestors had accomplished only added to his growing admiration of her.
In self-defense, he pushed that dangerous thought aside and strolled over to the boarded-up opening at the front of the little church. “I still have to refinish the floor and replace the panes in the side-window grids so they open like they used to. The last piece will be your stained glass. When you and Gretchen are done putting Humpty Dumpty back together, I’ll reinstall it and we’ll be all set.”
“It’s slow, delicate work, but we’re making good progress. At the rate we’re going, it should be done in about a week.”
And then, so would they, he added morosely. Jenna would be leaving, and Scott would be staying. More than ever, it was killing him to realize that he was basically a prisoner in his hometown until someone with legal authority told him otherwise.
Then again, even if he was allowed to leave, what would he do? Traipse around the country, following Jenna like some pathetic old hound desperate for her attention? Maybe a few years ago he could’ve made something like that work, but not now. That reckless part of him didn’t exist anymore, and he considered that a good thing. Coming home had reminded him that he was smarter than that, and it was okay for him to let go of people and memories that caused him pain.
But letting go of Jenna...that was different. From the first time he’d met her, she’d brought nothing but good into his life. As his friend, she’d encouraged him to reconnect with his family, and then with God in a way he didn’t think he could have managed on his own.
Because of his background, having the freedom to choose for himself was very important to him. Jenna deserved nothing less than that. Much as he’d love for her to stay, he’d never stand in the way of the career that meant so much to her and ask her to change her plans for him. But he wasn’t keen on her leaving, either.
“You know,” she began in a thoughtful tone. “Once the chapel is finished, if you trim back those trees and install some skylights, it would be an amazing workspace.”
“Nah. It’s kinda snug in here for my taste.” When she made a face at him, he chuckled. “But speaking of finishing things, I still owe you dinner at the Spring House. Does tomorrow night work for you?”
“Sure.” Glancing down at her ratty jeans and paint-spattered sneakers, she laughed. “I’m guessing this won’t do, though. Amy’s way smaller than me, but maybe I can borrow something girlie from Chelsea.”
“She’d be the one to ask. When I have a reservation, I’ll call and let you know what time.”
“Sounds good.” They stood there just staring at each other for several awkward seconds. Rocking back on her heels, she cast another look around before coming back to him. “Was there anything else you wanted to show me?”
“Not really, but I’ve got a fresh batch of sweet tea. Would you like some?”
“Oh, that Southern hospitality,” she teased while they strolled toward the house. “I’m really gonna miss it.”
“You don’t have to. You could hang around and keep enjoying it.”
Where had that come from? he wondered with a silent groan. Sure, he’d been thinking along those lines for days now, but he’d been careful not to say anything that would give her the impression he objected to her leaving. Even though he did. Leery of making the situation worse, he figured the best approach was to pretend he hadn’t said anything.
For her part, Jenna didn’t comment on his careless slipup. But she did give him a long, pensive look before heading toward the back door.
“You don’t have to go that way anymore.” He rested a foot on the bottom step of the front porch and stomped on the solid riser. “All fixed.”
This look was curious, and she went ahead of him onto the porch. It was still rough, but he’d taken advantage of his new position at the mill and had snagged a couple of Adirondack-style chairs and a small table with his employee discount. “I haven’t decided whether to paint or stain them, or just leave them be and seal them. What do you think?”
Sitting in the farther one, she ran a hand over the smooth pine surface and smiled. “I think they’re perfect just like this. You know, if you painted this place yellow, it would be a nice bright spot here in the middle of all these trees. It would also look a lot like my dream house.”
He’d been leaning that way, anyway, so her comment settled it for him. Not that he was thinking about her spending more time here, of course. It was just that he didn’t have much experience with—or interest in—decorating, and he valued her artistic opinion. “Yellow’s a good color, so that works for me.”
“And this yard is a disaster. It needs...something.”
“It needs a lot of somethings,” he agreed with a chuckle. “But landscaping’s not exactly my strong point.”
“It’s not that hard.” Illustrating with a sweep of her hand, she went on. “You’ve already worn a path up to the house from the driveway, so it would be easy to dig that out and lay some gravel. Then you plant flowers on either side, leading up to the porch to welcome your guests.”
“You’re the only one who’s ever sat up here besides me,” he pointed out.
“Maybe more folks would visit if this place felt more inviting,” she shot back in the direct approach he’d come to value so much from her. “Once you hack all the weeds out of the old gardens, you could transplant some of the wildflowers from over the hill in here. Then add a few hanging baskets and voilà! Pretty cottage in the woods.”
“You mean like in all those old fairy tales?”
“Minus the mean old witch, of course.”
“Of course,” he echoed with a grin. An idea for spending a little extra time with her popped into his head, and he added, “Tell you what. Since I’m clueless about flowers and stuff, I’ll pay for the supplies you need, and you can do whatever you want here.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup. Not only will it look nice, but it’ll get Mom off my back about sprucing up the gardens.”
“Cool. I’m in.”
“I’ll go get us some drinks, and we’ll toast to it. Be right back.”
Going through the house only reinforced his impression of what a mess it still was. He’d tinkered around in the kitchen and bathroom enough that they functioned fairly well, but they were decades from being classified as modern. Now that the chapel was more or less done, he could turn his attention to making the cottage more than barely livable.
An added bonus was that the rehab would keep his mind off how much he was going to miss Jenna when she left later this month. Then again, he wasn’t sure there was enough work for him anywhere to accomplish that.
Chapter Ten
That evening, a classic roadster she’d never seen pulled into the turnaround in front of Jenna’s studio. People often stopped to ask for directions, so she expected that to be the case this time. When
Scott stepped out, she couldn’t help laughing. “Did Heath turn that old mill truck into this cute little thing?”
“He’s good, but not that good. He did loan me this so we wouldn’t be embarrassed to pull under the front portico with all those fancy cars at the Spring House. Glad you like it.”
“It’s adorable.” The paint job was clearly in progress, but it promised to be a cheerful canary yellow. “What kind is it?”
“MG, late sixties, I think he said. Fred Morgan took it in trade for some bodywork he did for a customer a while back, and Heath bought it from him as a project. It’s totally safe to drive,” Scott added, as if she needed reassurance.
“I’m sure it is. I trust you.” The relief on his face told her just how much he needed to hear that from her. Smiling, she ran a hand over the battered ragtop. “Does this go down?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, but then you can’t get it back up. The motor’s been back-ordered from some supplier in England for a month now, and Heath’s not thrilled about it.”
“It’ll be really cute when it’s all fixed up. Can I drive?”
“The steering wheel’s on the right.”
“I can see that,” she shot back.
“Can you handle a manual transmission?”
When she gave him a withering look, he chuckled. “Okay, then.” He opened the door with a flourish and swung it closed behind her. Leaning down, he grinned at her through the open window. “You look incredible, by the way.”
Male admiration glimmered in his dark eyes, and Jenna felt a blush creeping over her cheeks. Chelsea had insisted the pale blue dress looked stunning on her, but it was flattering to hear that Scott’s assessment of her outfit matched her friend’s. “Thanks. I don’t get dressed up very often.”
“How come?”
“I don’t have much reason to, I guess. Trousers and a blouse are fine for church, and other than that, I’m usually making a mess with something or other in my studio.”
“So you’re saying you need to get out more?”
What was the right answer to that? she wondered. If she said yes, he might think she was hinting for another date with him. If she said no, he might assume she didn’t want another one. To be on the safe side, she smiled. “Don’t we all?”
That made him laugh, and while he circled the car to get in, she congratulated herself on evading some potentially dangerous social quicksand. Her anxiety made no sense whatsoever, she chided herself while she adjusted the rearview and familiarized herself with the old-style manual controls. She and Scott saw each other almost every day, and she knew him better than she’d known most of her former boyfriends.
“Jenna?” When she looked over, he grimaced. “Are you as nervous as I am?”
“Yes,” she breathed, relieved to discover she wasn’t the only one. “Stupid, right?”
“I didn’t mean to make things weird between us by asking you out.”
His apologetic tone wiped away the last of her misgivings, and she gave him her brightest smile. “It’s not weird, just different. Good different,” she added quickly.
“How did you know I was gonna ask you that?”
“Reading people is one of my hobbies, remember?” She started the car and drove around the semicircle out to the road. “For the record, you don’t make it easy.”
Staring out his window, he let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“Fortunately for you, I love a good challenge.”
He gave her a sidelong glance, but didn’t say anything. When she replayed her last comment in her mind, she realized he might have misinterpreted what she’d meant by it. The trouble was anything she came up with to explain it away sounded lame, so she decided it was best to let it go.
Weaving gently on the gravel road, she said, “This little baby handles like a dream. Once it’s a convertible again, Heath shouldn’t have any problem selling it.”
“I’ll tell him you said so.”
The restaurant was in nearby Cambridge, and during the short drive they chatted back and forth about their various projects. They arrived long before they ran out of things to talk about, and Jenna was almost disappointed that it was time to hand the sunny little car over to a valet.
She’d lived in cities and towns all over the country, and she’d seen her share of upscale restaurants. With its gracious antebellum architecture and expansive grounds, the Spring House had a charm all its own. In the distance she heard a splash and followed the sound to find a couple of geese touching down on a pond that also was home to two graceful white swans.
When she noticed something swimming in the water behind them, she barely contained a squeal. “They had babies!”
Tiny gray versions of their parents, four cygnets trailed after them in a straggly formation that made them seem all the more precious. When Scott suggested they go take a look, she agreed instantly. Careful to avoid making too much noise, they crept toward the bank and stood quietly while the swan family made their circuit of the modest-size pond.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” she sighed.
“Very.”
Something in his tone caught her attention, and she looked up to find him smiling at her. “What?”
“I just think it’s cool how you get so excited about stuff like this. With all you’ve been through, I’d expect you to be more jaded.”
“Beauty is in the details, the small things most people don’t really pick up on. My old art teacher used to say that, and it’s one of the best lessons she taught me.”
“And now you’ve taught it to me.” Reaching out, he grasped both of her hands loosely in his and smiled. “That means more to me than I could ever say.”
The tender current running beneath his words conveyed a deeper sentiment, and she blinked at him while her mind spun in circles hunting for a response. As usual, her heart took over, and she leaned in to brush a kiss over his lips. It was a bold move, one she didn’t normally make, but judging by the emotion glittering in his eyes it had been the right one.
“I’m really gonna miss you,” he said gruffly, leaning his forehead against hers with a dejected sigh. She’d handled this kind of situation many times, and usually she offered pragmatism with a dash of sympathy.
This time, though, she let her heart take the lead. “You know, since that barbecue at Paul and Chelsea’s, I’ve been thinking.”
He pulled his head back, and she saw a spark of hope brighten his gloomy features. “About?”
“Staying here for a while longer. I could renew the lease on my studio and generate some business with the tourists who come into town to see the sawmill. I turned away a bunch of local contracts because I couldn’t be sure I’d be here to do them. I’d imagine those people would still be interested in working with me.”
The optimism that had warmed his eyes cooled a bit. “I’m not sure what my plans are, Jenna. Don’t stay because of me.”
“Arrogant, aren’t you?” she teased, laughing to let him know she was joking. “I’ve never done anything for a guy, and I’ve got no intention of starting now. That was my mom’s approach to life, and if I learned anything from her, it’s that those kind of compromises never end up the way you want them to.”
She hadn’t meant to voice that last part out loud, but her earlier conversation with Gretchen had left thoughts of her own absent mother lodged in an uncomfortable position at the front of her mind. The compassion in Scott’s eyes made her wish she’d kept her personal issues to herself. “You miss her sometimes, don’t you?”
“A little, maybe.” Fiddling with his tie, she glanced up at him, hoping to make him understand. “I wish things had turned out differently is all. Since they didn’t, I try not to think too much about what might have been.”
“I can relate to that.”
Spoken wit
hout the bitterness that had been so much a part of him when they’d first met, those words told her just how far he’d come during these past few weeks. She was so proud of him, but she didn’t know how to phrase it properly. Instead, she dangled her arms over those strong shoulders and gave him a lazy smile. “So, how would you feel if I stuck around a little longer?”
“It’s a good idea, business-wise, since you’ve already got clients in the area. Cambridge hosts art shows over the summer, and so do lots of the other towns around here.”
“Don’t bore me with all that practical stuff,” she chided gently. “I asked how you’d feel.”
He hesitated, clearly torn between remaining detached from her and being honest. After a long silence he bent to kiss her, adding one of those mellow smiles she’d come to adore. “I’d love it if you stayed.”
“That’s settled, then,” she agreed with a laugh. “To celebrate, I think we should have the lobster.”
“Whatever you want. But first, I want to thank you.”
“For what? Emptying your wallet?”
“For being the last thing I expected,” he corrected her in a gentle voice. Sweeping her hair back over her shoulder, he went on. “When I finally came home, I was set on keeping to myself and waiting for the dust around me to settle. You wouldn’t let me do that, and I’ll always be grateful to you for not letting me get by with the hermit thing.”
“Oh, eventually some girl would’ve come along and dragged you out of your cave. You’re way too good-looking to be a hermit.”
Frowning now, he shook his head. “I’m serious, Jenna. Outside of my family, no one’s ever put in as much effort with me as you have. I wish I knew how to thank you.”
“You just did.”
Flashing him her very best smile, she impulsively hugged him. After a moment, his arms came around her, pulling her close enough that she could feel his heart beat against her cheek. That very first day in the cemetery, she’d glimpsed this magnificent heart, broken and weary but still willing to try.
In her mind, that was the definition of courage. Falling but struggling back to your feet to keep on climbing because you simply refused to give up. Standing there, wrapped in Scott’s arms, it dawned on her that he was the bravest man she’d ever met. It wouldn’t take much for her to fall hard for him, and if he’d been any other guy she’d known, this would be the point where she would bolt and never look back.