by Jill Kemerer
Reed straightened. Here it comes.
* * *
Claire withered at Libby’s interruption. Just when she’d gotten Reed alone and almost kissed him, and he revealed more of his feelings—even if they were about Aunt Sally—Libby had to go and ruin the moment.
Claire lifted her chin. “I invited him. Dad invited him. Aunt Sally invited him. We all invited him.”
“Who gave you the right?”
She stepped forward. “You did.”
“I did?” Libby let out a brittle laugh. “I did not.”
“You did the minute you accepted his proposal.”
“Which I unaccepted, but no one here seems to have gotten the memo.”
Claire leveled a titanium-hard stare at Libby. “Jake lives here. I’m not cutting him off.”
“But you’ll cut me off. Great, Claire. You prefer him to me.”
“I don’t. I love you. But I’m not going to treat Jake differently now. It’s not right, and you know it.”
“Says who?” Libby asked.
“Says the Bible.”
Libby’s face grew ruddy as she pressed her lips together. Her expression morphed from angry to uncertain and finally to sad. Claire held her breath, her soul cracking at hurting her feelings. This week had been awful for Libby—but Claire wouldn’t shun Jake. She couldn’t. It was wrong.
Libby hung her head. “You’re right.”
Had she heard Libby correctly? Claire exhaled. Leaning against the counter, Reed shrugged as if to say he was surprised too.
“Do you want to talk, Libs?” Claire gestured to the empty deck. “We can go outside.”
“No. I...I’ve got to find...Dad.” Libby, teary-eyed, practically ran outside.
Reed set his hand on Claire’s shoulder. “You amaze me.”
“Why? Because I hurt my sister’s feelings? I’m so tired of wondering what to do. I keep trying to help her, but I end up hurting her.”
He cupped her chin. “You did help her. And Jake. Not many people would welcome him in this situation.”
His words repaired the pocket of guilt she’d grown weary of trying to keep shut. “Everyone would welcome Jake. He’s a great guy. We love him.”
“You know what I mean.”
She nodded.
They stood there, touching, close, silent. The steady hum of cars arriving shook her out of their connection.
“Looks like it’s party time.” Reed peered out the window.
“We’d better get this potato salad ready or we’re going to be in trouble.” Claire searched for large plastic serving bowls. “Grab the big spoons. They’re in the drawer next to the stove.”
They spent the next twenty minutes transferring food to bowls, opening chips and covering everything with an abundance of plastic wrap that refused to stay put.
“Who invented this stuff?” Reed wrestled a long rectangle of wrap determined to crinkle into itself. “They should be thrown in jail.”
“It’s the worst. I’ll see if there’s some foil we can use instead.” She sifted through the drawer.
Heavy footsteps alerted her to her brothers’ arrival. They greeted Reed, then surrounded the island like a pack of wolves circling a downed deer. She shooed them away. “Get out of here. No sneaking food. We won’t have any left with you guys around. If you want to help, take those bowls to the tent. Aunt Sally will tell you where to put them.”
Bryan and Sam sneaked handfuls of chips. She shifted her weight and gave them long, penetrating stares until they sheepishly obeyed.
“Come on. We’re done in here. Let’s go eat.” She led the way outside, waiting for Reed to clear the door with his crutches, and they joined the growing crowd on the lawn. Claire introduced him to newcomers who arrived.
“Reed Hamilton? The Reed Hamilton? Oh, my!” Sandra Dixon, a pleasant middle-aged woman from church, stood in front of Reed. “We’ve wanted to thank you. You helped get our pole barn scheduled. They’re already framing it. Thank you very much.” A couple from town flanked Reed, complimenting him and thanking him. Another family joined.
Claire seized the opportunity to slip away. Where was Libby? Claire scanned the yard. Her sister stood next to Jake near the dock. Neither seemed to be speaking, but Jake took Libby’s hand, and she didn’t yank it away. They strolled away from the party to the lane ribboning around the lake. Maybe they would work it out.
The party continued. Claire and Reed faced mounds of food under the tent while Tommy, Bryan and Sam kept the conversation lively. Claire sneaked smiles their way often. This fun attitude was what she loved most about her brothers. They knew how to make anyone feel like old friends.
Later, someone turned on a country playlist over the speakers. Near the corner, Dad and Uncle Joe guffawed at something. Aunt Sally came over to chat, declaring it the “best Fourth ever,” kicked off her star-studded flip-flops and sprawled her legs out on an empty chair.
Libby and Jake reappeared, making their way to the table. Libby’s face broke into a magnificent smile. “The wedding’s back on!”
Claire hugged them both. “I’m so happy! Congratulations! You two are perfect for each other, and I’m glad you realized it.”
Libby twined her arm around Jake’s waist, and he hooked his arm over her shoulder as if he never wanted to let her go.
“We’re still settling on a date. We’re thinking Christmas-ish. I’ll be off for school break, and Jake will be able to get time off too.” She beamed at Jake.
He didn’t tear his gaze from hers. “I told her we could pick any date she wanted—I didn’t care—as long as she agreed to spend the rest of her life with me. I can’t live without you, Libby.”
“I...” Libby said. “Well, this week has been terrible. I don’t know how I ever thought I could live without you either.”
Jake kissed her, their affection hanging in the air.
“Congratulations.” Reed hobbled his way to Jake and hugged him. “I’m happy for you.”
“Me too. You know what this means, though?” Jake grinned.
“What?”
“I need you to come back as best man again. Or better yet, stay. Lake Endwell suits you.”
Claire held her breath, shocked at the hope Jake’s words sent rippling through her.
Reed? Living here?
Could there be a better idea?
Reed’s face paled, and he remained silent. Her heart fell—he seemed unenthused about the prospect. In fact, the way he shook his head at Jake gave her the impression they’d discussed the possibility already. Reed clearly did not want to stay in Lake Endwell.
And once again she wondered why she was getting so attached to someone dead set on leaving.
* * *
Ready for the fireworks display, Reed sat on the quilt Claire had spread out. The cast still annoyed him. This whole picnic would have been easier to get around if he didn’t have crutches. Claire hugged her knees to her chest. Ever since Jake and Libby announced the wedding was back on, she’d been pensive, quiet.
Reed stole another peek at her. He didn’t think the wedding was the problem. Maybe it was Jake’s untimely crack about Reed living in Lake Endwell. At first, he’d wanted to smack his brother for spilling the idea, certain Libby and Claire would latch on to it. But Claire hadn’t. Not at all.
Didn’t she want him to stay?
Based on her posture, he’d have to say no.
Jake’s idea for him to start his own company had pushed Reed into the category of considering, though. Last night, with nothing else to do, he’d researched the competing construction firms, located potential suppliers and listed the subcontractors he’d met during the rebuilding efforts.
That had been more about killing time, though, not going ahead with it.
&
nbsp; A breeze cooled his skin as stars flickered on. Claire excused herself, unfolding her legs and climbing the small bank to the lawn. His gut grew heavy as her figure faded in the distance.
He wanted to make her smile again. Wanted her to tease him. Wanted the joy bubble surrounding her to include him.
If he moved here...would she be happy about it?
He plucked a blade of grass and wound it in his fingers. He’d be financially unstable. Taking a risk—a risk that might not pay off. It would take all of his substantial savings to invest in real estate. What would everyone think if Reed set up a construction firm only to fail?
And what about Dad? They’d texted a few times since getting ice cream. Would moving here ruin the bud of their relationship?
Reed bent his good leg and rested his elbow on his knee. All of those questions didn’t concern him as much as the one he’d been avoiding.
Could he make a commitment to Claire? He wouldn’t have a solid job. What if he failed and needed to move? He couldn’t ask her to do that. She loved her family too much. And, frankly, he doubted she’d move, not if given a choice between Lake Endwell and him.
He inadvertently caused friction in families. Why did he imagine it would be different with Claire’s?
He had too much to lose to be toying with the idea of moving to Lake Endwell.
Chapter Fourteen
Another Saturday night with nothing to do, no one to see and a wicked mood to match. Wearing shorts and a navy blue T-shirt, Claire became one with her couch, eating a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream, watching a mind-numbing hour of CSI.
She’d barely spoken to Reed since Thursday night. The fireworks had been lovely, but the entire time they flashed in the sky, she’d wanted to take Reed’s hand and encourage him to think about moving here. For a brief moment during the fireworks finale she thought he was going to kiss her. He’d taken her hand in his, but he let it go. Since then they’d fallen into an odd, tense place—and she missed their laid-back friendship.
Did she scare him? He’d been clear about his anxieties regarding families. Not that she understood his fears. Not really.
He had texted her yesterday. Dale and I are checking progress on bakery. Won’t be home until late.
Shoving the spoon in her mouth, she licked the ice cream off. Contemplated chucking the utensil across the room.
What had she expected? Reed to only work with her? Reed stayed to help with the rebuilding efforts. He’d said nothing about staying for her.
Her chest tightened. Why had she allowed herself to get so close to him? He wasn’t exactly available. Sure, he was single, but he lived in another state.
And he cared more about stupid roofs and drywall than her.
This time she did chuck the spoon across the room, enjoying the sound of it clattering against her hardwood floor. Real mature, Claire.
Reed was returning to Chicago in a few days. And she had less than two weeks left with her otters.
Today she’d spent hours at the zoo, checking the new facilities. Tina’s second cousin had been there too, and he seemed awfully comfortable with the staff. Joking, checking the charts, offering to grab Tina a coffee. Bile climbed up Claire’s throat. What could she do? Tina had stopped her earlier to let her know the staff would be making a decision within the week. Either Claire’s credentials were enough, or Mr. Charismatic Cousin would get the job.
Claire plodded to her bedroom and grabbed her laptop. Time to create a backup plan. Just in case.
In case what? Reed left? He’d planned on it all along.
Duh. That wasn’t the issue. This was about her job. J.O.B. Not R.E.E.D.
She checked on the vet technician positions in southwest Michigan. Of the three she’d found last week, only two were still available. And the pay would be low, but she didn’t need the money all that much. With the cottage almost paid for and her stake in Sheffield Auto, she could afford to take a low-paying job. She typed a search for jobs...and she peeled herself off the couch to find a pad of paper and a pen. There were some real possibilities—if she relocated.
Tapping the pen against her chin, she let the Chicago idea permeate. Yeah, she could take the Lake Michigan beaches. The yummy pizza. The killer shopping.
Reed.
The pen slipped from her hand.
Chicago sounded good, but it would never do. Her throat seized at the thought of not seeing Dad and Libby and Aunt Sally every day. No dinners at Uncle Joe’s? Impossible.
She’d find a backup job around here or none at all.
Her phone dinged. She lunged for it, hating how her pulse pounded in hope. She read the message, her shoulders falling.
Tommy.
Tigers game at our house. Bring chips and dip.
Her Saturday night just got better. Baseball. Her brothers. Yay.
* * *
“I haven’t been this excited since I took woodshop in high school,” Dale said. “This is a solid plan. You could make it work.”
Reed met Dale’s proud gaze across the table at Pat’s Diner. Red vinyl covered the seats of the booth, and outside, small American flags waved next to the flowers in planters. The aroma of french fries filled the air.
“I’m still trying it on for size.” Reed flicked his fingers toward the pile of papers he’d handwritten yesterday. His hastily drawn up business plan. He’d tried to ignore the idea. Tried to stay excited about the vice president position. And he’d failed. “I don’t know if I’ll go through with it.”
“Listen, son, now is the time to start a construction firm around here. We lost half a dozen builders when the market crashed. Demand’s picked up. You have the knowledge. You already have a good reputation. If you need financial backing, I’ll stand behind you.”
Reed forgot to exhale. Dale’s generosity shocked him. “It means a lot to me—more than you know—but I don’t need financing. I’ve saved a lot of money over the years.”
Dale gave him a shy look. “What about a superintendent?”
Superintendent? Reed hadn’t thought that far. He figured—if he went through with it—he would run the business on his own until it was profitable enough to hire someone. He pushed the papers to the side. “I’ll have to hire someone eventually. Got someone in mind for the job?”
“Me.”
Reed frowned, unsure what Dale was saying. “You mean you’ll help me hire someone?”
“No. I mean I want the job.”
Reed thought about it, flipped it around, studied the angles.
“I might not have a license or professional training,” Dale said. “But I know this town. I’ve been a backyard warrior for forty years, building decks, repairing roofs, helping with wiring.”
Dale. The ideal superintendent. But why? “Anyone would hire you in a minute, but you don’t really want the job, do you?”
“I know it sounds crazy. Maybe it is crazy. I didn’t realize how useless I felt. I finally found a purpose helping you organize the reconstruction efforts.” Dale tapped his knuckles on the table. “I didn’t get to choose my vocation. I’ve always been grateful to take over my dad’s dealerships. Never had to worry about money a day in my life. I raised my kids here and passed the business to my boys. Would have to the girls too, but they weren’t interested.”
“What about the dealerships?” Reed asked. “You still play an active role in them.”
Dale leaned back. “Sheffield Auto practically runs itself. It was more stressful before Tommy and Bryan came on board. Sam might be coming over too. He’s finishing his master’s degree in business management.”
The idea of working with Dale every day appealed to Reed. They got along well, had settled into a comfortable rhythm. Dale had a knack for following up on project details Reed didn’t have time for, ones that could hol
d up the next phase of construction.
“I’m bored.” Dale stared out the window, his profile serious. “Until you showed up, I went through my days on autopilot, always ready for something to fix. I didn’t realize I could do more than weekend projects. Watching these buildings get new life reignited my passion. We only have so many years on this earth. I don’t want to spend the rest of them bumbling along. I want to do what I want to do.”
Reed picked up his coffee mug. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. Think about it. And for the record, I’m a wealthy man. I won’t work for free, but I would defer a paycheck until you get your feet wet. Say a year.”
Every drop of tension dissipated from Reed’s body. This man had shown him nothing but kindness since the day Reed arrived. And now Dale was offering to work with him? Without pay?
That kind of faith in him—in Reed Hamilton the man, not the employee—he hadn’t experienced before, and he liked how it felt, wanted to live up to the faith Claire’s dad had in him.
“Like I said, keep it in mind.” Dale twined his fingers together and rested them on the table. “You don’t have to rush anything. We sure would like to see more of you here, though, whatever you decide.”
Reed still had a lot of unanswered questions of the what-if variety, but he believed Dale.
“Come on.” Dale grabbed the bill for their coffees and slid out of the booth. “Let’s watch the Tigers on Tommy’s big screen.”
Another night without Claire? Reed should text her. See if she wanted to come too. He hadn’t seen her since the fireworks on Thursday. If only they could return to their easy banter. He’d give about anything to get their comfortable relationship back.
But what if Dale told her about the business plan? Reed frowned. And what if she told him in no uncertain terms she didn’t like the idea? He didn’t want the conversation played out in front of her brothers.
He’d wait. Call her tomorrow.
Tomorrow seemed a long time away.