Love to Believe: Fireflies ~ Book 2

by Lisa Ricard Claro

  “The construction business is a man’s world. I’m not saying women don’t belong. I’m just saying that it’s mostly men involved in it, that’s all. You have to understand. It isn’t that I don’t think you’re capable. Hell, girl, I think you can do anything in the world you set your mind to. So it isn’t that. It’s that I worry about how you’ll be treated. I don’t want to be the one putting you in situations where you might be hurt or mistreated.

  “That said, you sure proved yourself yesterday with that bastard who…uh…got up in your business. You kicked his sorry ass, but good.” He flashed a proud smile that crinkled his eyes. “You can handle yourself in a situation like that. I know that now. So if you want to stay on and visit the construction sites now and then, why, you go ahead. I’d be okay with that.” He rubbed his hands together and broadened his smile. “Sound good?”

  Rebecca sighed. He still didn’t get it. She rubbed her forehead and resisted the urge to bang it on the top of the desk.

  “Dad, I appreciate what you’re trying to say, and I appreciate your understanding that I can handle myself if someone gets physical. But you’re missing the larger picture.”

  “I am not. I just said—”

  “Did you know that I have my general contractor’s license, Dad?” She assumed by his blank stare that he did not. “Well, I do. Me. All by myself, not as an extension of Walker & Son. You taught me well, you and Grandpa Boone and Cal. You’ve had me running around construction sites since I was ten, and because of you, I love watching a building go up, love driving past something I’ve had a hand in building and knowing the work is quality, that it will stand the test of time. I’m not a man, but I still love it, and more to the point, I’m capable of doing the work. All the work. On top of that, I’m a CPA, so I know how to keep the books and I understand the financial part of the business better than most.”

  Big Will’s frown eased and his countenance brightened. “Of course you can keep the books! And you’re good at it! That’s why I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay and keep running the office.”

  “I can do more, Dad. I’ve been doing more.” Had the man been living under a rock? “You said you talked to Cal. Have you talked to anyone else? Howard or Miguel, one of the other foremen? Any of the guys?

  “Well, sure, but—”

  “And what did they tell you?”

  “Well,” he spread his hands in supplication, “you can’t expect them to be completely aboveboard with a question like that. You’ve been acting as their boss for damn near a year now. You’re my daughter. They aren’t going to say anything negative to me about my little girl.”

  Rebecca surrendered to her frustration and dropped her forehead to the desk. She tapped it three times before looking back at her father. No matter what she said, what she did, or how well she did it, he’d never understand. She bit back frustrated tears and straightened up. No point in blubbering. “I’m leaving Walker & Son, Dad. End of this month. Go through the résumés and find someone.”

  “Don’t you go getting that tone with me, little britches.”

  “I love you, Daddy, but I have work to do and so do you. Résumés. End of the month.”

  Big Will’s brows drew downward and his jaw dropped in preparation for speech, but the opening of the door spared Rebecca from what she expected to be a verbal lambasting for her disrespectful tone. Howard came into the office with Miguel, Trey, and several other men trailing behind him, a contingent of serious faces, faded Tshirts, and steel-toed boots.

  Rebecca’s heart plummeted. They were supposed to be in Gainesville this morning breaking ground on a new building. That they weren’t could only mean trouble.

  “Good,” Howard said when the door closed behind them. “You’re both here.”

  “What’s the problem, Howard?” Big Will turned his scowling face from Rebecca to his longtime foreman. “Trouble in Gainesville?”

  “Trouble all over the damned place, if you want the truth.” Howard grabbed the bill on his Walker & Son cap and adjusted it over his eyes. “We got problems with inspections, problems with equipment, problems with workers, problems with every damned thing.”

  Miguel slid his ever-present toothpick from between his lips, said, “The new operations guy, Mitch, is an asshole,” and stuck the toothpick back in his mouth.

  “No doubt he knows what he’s doing,” Howard said, “but it’s getting him to do it that’s the problem. Had trouble at the Bartholomew II building yesterday with the inspection—”

  “He’s pissed off a couple of different inspectors with his attitude. I seen it,” Trey said.

  “—and with supplies,” Howard finished. “That damned job should’ve been finished a week ago. Should be through the punch list already.”

  Big Will sighed. “I appreciate your concern, fellas. He told me about the supply problem, but not the other. I’ll talk to him.”

  Howard’s eyes scanned those of the men standing with him and Miguel nodded his encouragement. Howard faced Big Will and drew a deep breath. “All due respect, we don’t want you to talk to him. We want you to can his sorry ass. We want Rebecca back in charge. Smooth as silk is how things run when she’s at the wheel, and when a problem crops up, she’s front and center to handle it.”

  Rebecca straightened up in her seat and made no effort to hide her blooming smile. She scanned the men’s faces and thought, And may God bless them, every one!

  “Remember that issue with delivery of the trusses on that medical building down in Dahlonega back in October? She didn’t sit on her ass, she kicked ass and got us on-time delivery, that’s what,” Howard said. “That’s how it works with her.”

  “She fixes shit,” Miguel said, pointing with his toothpick.

  “She knows her shit,” one of the other men interjected.

  Aw, so eloquent! Rebecca beamed at the group of men like a proud mother.

  “And she looks good doing it,” Trey added, earning himself a cuff on the back of his head from Howard. “Well, she does,” he mumbled, rubbing the offended spot.

  Rebecca crossed her arms on the desk and leaned forward. This was fun.

  Howard directed his next words to Rebecca. “We know you plan to leave, but if Big Will is willing to go along, we’d be mighty pleased to have you stay on in your former capacity. I speak for everyone, the men here and the ones out on the job, when I say that.”

  “He really does.” Trey’s brows rose over his bug-eyes. “We took a vote.”

  Howard looked back at Big Will. “We’d all be obliged if you’d give Mitch Bonner the heave-ho and fix it so Rebecca’s in charge again.”

  Big Will stared at the men as if they’d all sprouted an extra nose. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and shook his head, then turned his bemused gaze to Rebecca. “Between these fellas here and Caleb, looks like I’m outnumbered.” His gruff voice filled the room, but his shoulders held strong and his pride in her radiated outward. His lips curved upward, and the smile reached his eyes. “You still want the job, little britches, looks like it’s all yours.”

  As stamps of approval from Big Will went, Rebecca figured that was as good as she’d get. She smiled at the men and made eye contact with each one. “Thanks guys. I appreciate your vote of confidence.” She’d won the coveted prize of Big Will’s acquiescence regarding her position with Walker & Son Construction and, even though he’d been browbeaten into it, she knew him well enough to be assured that he’d stand behind her one-hundred percent now that the decision was made.

  She wanted this, right? She’d worked her ass off for this. She should be on top of her desk doing a happy dance.

  Rebecca met her father’s expectant gaze. Her hand slid to her abdomen and she pressed her palm against the place where the Little Booger lay secreted away, and an odd combination of terror and tenderness washed over her. Goosebumps pebbled her skin.

  “Things have changed for me in the last few days.” She couldn’t quite believe the words a
s they flowed from her mouth. “I’m not sure what I want to do. I’ll have to think about it and let you know.”

  ***

  The week dragged on, endless. After Rebecca’s pronouncement, Big Will made a complete turnabout and spent every spare moment dogging her about taking over operations. He badgered, begged, and dropped layers of guilt thick as mortar.

  Had she known her indecisiveness would drive his determination to cement her into the position she’d slaved to earn, she would have become wishy-washy much sooner.

  But a larger decision loomed on her horizon, one that would affect her and Sean for the rest of their lives. Or just her, as the case might be. Well, the Little Booger, too, of course. Couldn’t forget him. Or her.

  Friday dawned at long last, and Rebecca made the executive decision to take the day off. To her recollection she’d never done that, but considering the week she’d had—her pregnancy, getting groped by Artie Brewster, beating up Artie Brewster, almost getting arrested, and having the Walker & Son construction crew stand up for her right to lead the pack, plus her father’s newfound determination to install her in the hypothetical corner office—well, she figured she’d earned an extra day of rest.

  The nausea pills were a godsend, and she took them and her prenatal vitamins to spec. She’d snagged an appointment in early April with the OB/Gyn recommended by Dr. Hanlon, and had a fridge stocked with bacon and a pantry full of cheese doodles. As far as short term goals went, she was set.

  Almost.

  She had yet to address the little matter of sharing her unexpected circumstance with Sean. This she avoided thinking about, had, in fact, relegated it to the back of her mind and stuffed it in a secured box marked “TNT.” Apropos, since she expected an explosion when she spilled the news. How could Sean react any other way? He’d been clear he didn’t want her—well, except for sex, and the more time passed the better that sounded—and would not welcome a child. Never ever.

  She sprawled on the couch, drowsy in the mid afternoon and lulled by the Law & Order marathon droning on her television, the distant traffic sounds of downtown Bright Hills, and the occasional tick of her refrigerator. Her fingers moved with a sluggish rhythm through Amelia’s dense fur and elicited delighted purrs from the kitten, which had curled up on Rebecca’s belly. Rebecca wondered if the Little Booger could feel or hear the kitten purring. Did the bitty creature inside her even have ears yet? And if so, did the purrs soothe in utero?

  Her eyes opened to the sound of footsteps on the porch which preceded a knock. She resolved to ignore the visitor, but female voices penetrated the door. “Hang on.” She lifted Amelia with gentle care and set the kitten, still balled up, on one of the sofa pillows. “What are you two doing here?” she asked after she opened the door.

  Brenna eyed Rebecca’s messy topknot and threadbare sweats. “We heard you called out sick and thought you could use some cheering up.”

  “I’m taking a mental health day.” Rebecca stepped aside to allow them entry and sniffed. “You brought food.”

  “Of course we brought food. We always bring food. What kind of rednecks do you take us for?” Brenna said.

  “How many kinds are there?” Rebecca asked and accepted Brenna’s hug.

  Maddie leaned in for her own one-armed hug and held up the coffee carrier she held in her other hand. “Caramel mocha lattes with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings.”

  “And chicken noodle soup, my own special recipe. It’s been a hit with the Lump & Grind lunchtime crowd, thank you. And we have espresso chocolate chip brownies for dessert.” Brenna sniffed. “Call us rednecks if you must, but we Southern women know how to take care of our friends.”

  “You two rock. This is freaking awesome,” Rebecca said, only a little disappointed that no bacon was involved.

  The trio enjoyed their meal at the bistro table on the back patio, and though Rebecca had spoken to both Maddie and Brenna by phone after her incident with Artie Brewster, the women insisted on a full retelling, which Rebecca obliged between bites.

  She broke off a piece of her brownie, let the chocolate rest on her tongue, and thought of Sean. Chocolate Man.

  What a stupid name, she thought, and the ache in her chest split wide open, the pain ramming into her with an unexpected blow. She looked out into the yard and blinked back tears.

  Man up.

  Maddie rested her hand on Rebecca’s arm and regarded her with a serious gaze. “I know we’re all laughing about how you kicked Artie Brewster’s butt, but it had to be a horrible experience.”

  Maddie aimed the blame for Rebecca’s tears in the wrong direction, and Rebecca allowed it. Better that than the truth. She smiled and squeezed Maddie’s hand. “I protected myself, and I’d do it again. I’m okay, just tired out from the week. Did Caleb tell you that Dad wants me back in charge?”

  Maddie nodded. “Caleb’s worried you’re going to turn it down, because then your father will start bugging him about it again. Why did you change your mind? I thought you really wanted that position.”

  “I do. I did.” Rebecca looked at both women and emitted a rueful laugh. “I don’t know. I’ve had my mind set on leaving, starting my own consulting business. I’m not sure I’m ready to let go of that just because the guys bullied Dad into coming around.”

  “I’m sure whatever decision you make will be right for you,” Maddie said.

  “How come you two aren’t at work?” Rebecca asked.

  “School let out at two-fifteen, and I wasn’t on kindergarten bus duty today so it was easy to scoot out,” Maddie said.

  “And I just finished training one of my employees as an assistant manager earlier in the week, so I figured it would be a good idea to leave her in charge for a couple of hours, see how she fares. I’ll get back to the L&G when I leave here.” Brenna glanced at her phone to check the time and grimaced. “Which is now. Sorry, honey, but it’s four o’clock. I have to go.”

  Rebecca stood on the porch to wave goodbye. She appreciated their friendship, grateful they welcomed her into their inner circle. They had a history, Brenna and Maddie, by virtue of Maddie’s marriage to Jack, and the two women had been best friends for years. It wasn’t easy to break inside a tight pairing like that, but they had embraced her from the start. She was grateful for their acceptance.

  She tried to conjure an image of Jack from photos she had seen, the much beloved Kinkaid sibling whose death had been tragic and too soon, but the calling up of a handsome man with black hair and blue eyes brought Sean’s face to the forefront of her mind, and the sick feeling in her stomach left her fighting tears again. Bereft and desperate for Sean, she whispered to his dead sibling, “Are you out there, Jack? You don’t know me, but I’m stupid in love with your brother, and I could sure use some help coping here.”

  Nothing answered but the mountain breeze.

  Rebecca wiped her cheeks and laughed at herself for talking to a dead man she’d never even met, a pitiful attempt to feel closer to the man she couldn’t have. She shuddered out a sigh and forced herself to focus on controlling her wayward emotions.

  Ridiculous, this crying all the time and hurting over things she couldn’t change. The Little Booger wreaked havoc with her hormones, no doubt about it. She’d best get used to it.

  She turned her face toward the breeze and offered quick thanks for Daylight Savings Time which had precipitated the turning of the clocks over the past weekend, and gifted her with extra daylight. By her own command she’d been cooped up all day, lolling about, petting the cat, eating foods she used to eschew with ease, and feeling sorry for herself. She needed to walk, to run, to do.

  Enough of this inaction. Time to move.

  She marched through the house to her bedroom and changed into comfortable jeans and a T-shirt, grabbed a sweatshirt in case the afternoon cooled down further, and headed out for a walk. She snatched her purse on the way out and slung it over her head and across her body for ease while she maintained a healthy stride.


  She turned right at the end of her driveway and aimed for town, a quick walk of just a couple blocks. She pushed her speed to sustain a steady aerobic level and, energized, considered returning home to change into running clothes, but opted against that in favor of the brisk walk she had initiated. Walking made it easier to think, and Lord knew she had plenty of that to do.

  It was time to focus, to consider her future and how best to proceed. She had weighed all the options, alternatives, and potential outcomes, and made the best decision possible for herself and her baby. The only decision she could live with, really.

  She pondered the consequences as she stood at the corner of Bright and Main waiting for the light to change. Across the street and half a block up was Sean’s office, but she turned left instead toward the Lump & Grind and maintained a steady clip, past the storefronts and slower moving pedestrians. After passing Brenna’s coffee shop, she waited at the curb for another light to change. She rested her hand against her abdomen and smiled.

  She’d made this baby with the man she loved, even if he didn’t love her, and God help her, she loved the Little Booger already. Sean might hate her, given his feelings about being a father, but she couldn’t worry about that. She’d made her decision and he could make his, to be involved or not, as much or as little as he chose. She was a strong and independent woman. She’d make a great mother and give this baby a wonderful upbringing, with or without Sean.

  Sure of her decision, and giddy with burgeoning trepidation and excitement, her mind whirled. She imagined the reaction of family and friends, the surprise, the whispers. And what would Sean say? Should she even tell him it was his, knowing his adamant position against being a father? He’d wonder, of course, especially if the Little Booger popped out sporting the blue Kinkaid eyes and black hair, but he’d never know for certain if she didn’t tell him, and so would not be forced to obligatory action.