Her Hopes and Dreams (Ardent Springs Book 4)

by Terri Osburn

  “I can’t not hire him because you don’t like him,” Mike said. “Maybe someone else on the board needs to take over as liaison.”

  “No,” Carrie said. This was her project, and Noah would not take it away from her. “I can work with him. It’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “We’re both adults. There’s no reason we can’t deal with each other. At least temporarily.”

  Mike nodded. “All right then. Let’s see if he’s finished the paperwork.”

  Carrie exited the break room in front of her boss to find Noah lingering around her desk. Her jaw clenched, but she kept moving. For the sake of the shelter, she would endure ten weeks with this self-righteous ass. Once the doors to Safe Haven were open, then she could tell him to go to hell.

  Chapter 3

  “I have my passport,” he said, holding out the blue booklet along with the folder. “I filled in everything except the references, since that seems redundant at this point.”

  Nodding, Carrie took the documents. “Let me make a copy, and then I’ll enter you in the computer later.” She didn’t meet his eye.

  Guilt twisted in his chest, forcing Noah to admit that he’d crossed the line.

  Once upon a time, Noah had put a ring on a pretty girl’s finger, and she’d ditched him for someone else less than a month before the wedding. After he’d found them together in his bed. That experience tended to taint his perspective on the whole infidelity thing.

  Back when Patch had hooked up with Carrie, he’d tried to talk his friend out of messing with her, but Patch wouldn’t listen. The wedding ring hadn’t even slowed him down. In fact, Patch had been determined to break up the marriage and have the pretty brunette for himself. A fact that Noah had conveniently ignored in his recent dealings with the man’s widow.

  The truth was, he owed the woman an apology.

  “I was out of line a minute ago,” he said before she turned away. “And last night. I shouldn’t have brought up the cheating stuff.”

  Ice-blue eyes narrowed. “Is that your way of saying you’re sorry?”

  He’d never claimed to be good at the damn things. “I’m saying I know Patch wasn’t an innocent bystander to what went down. You both knew what you were doing.”

  She hugged the folder to her chest. “And we were cheating. Together. So you still believe I’m a terrible person, but you shouldn’t have mentioned it?”

  “Why are you making this a big deal?” Noah crossed his arms. “I’m sorry. There. Are you happy?”

  “Who wouldn’t be with a heartfelt apology like that?” Carrie rolled her eyes as she turned toward the copier.

  He’d said what he needed to say, and she could take or leave it. Not his problem. So why did he still feel like a jackass?

  “Hey,” he said when she returned. “Is that your little girl?” Noah pointed to a picture pinned to her pegboard.

  “Yes, that’s her,” she replied, handing over the passport.

  “Can I see it closer up?”

  For a second, he thought she would refuse, but she finally removed the photo from the wall and handed it over. “It was taken about a month ago at a cookout.”

  “Who’s the guy?” he asked. “Your boyfriend?”

  He kept his tone more curious than accusatory.

  “No, that’s my friend Cooper. Molly loves to ride up on his shoulders like that.”

  Noah held the picture closer. “She has Patch’s eyes.”

  Carrie agreed in a matter-of-fact tone. “Yes, she does. And her hair is darker like his.”

  “She looks happy.”

  “My friends make sure she has all the attention she could want, and Cooper treats her like a princess. Her first word was Mom, but her second was Coopy.”

  He handed the photo back. “I have some old pictures of Patch. I’ll dig them out so she can have them.”

  Carrie’s demeanor changed, as if he’d said something threatening. Her shoulders tensed and her jaw tightened. “That would be nice,” she said. “There aren’t many pictures around the house.”

  Noah got the distinct impression that she didn’t like talking about her dead husband. To test the theory, he said, “Maybe we can share stories about him. Keep Patch’s memory alive by remembering the good times.”

  She flinched as if he’d hit her.

  “Are we ready to go?” Mike asked, joining them at the desk.

  “Yep,” she said with forced enthusiasm. “We’re all set.”

  Mike turned Noah’s way. “Do you want to follow us out there, or should we all ride together?”

  “I’ll drive myself,” Carrie cut in, pulling her purse from a desk drawer. “I need to make a stop afterward.”

  Letting the woman have her escape, Noah said, “I’ll follow you, if you don’t mind.”

  His new boss nodded in agreement. “Fine with me. Let’s go.”

  By the time Noah secured his helmet, the silver Cobalt had left the parking lot. As he fired up the Harley, he replayed their conversation. A grieving widow saddened at the mention of her deceased husband made sense. But that hadn’t been grief in Carrie’s eyes. She’d been more anxious than sad. A sensible man would leave things alone, but loyalty to his friend poked at Noah’s psyche. There was something going on here, and for Patch’s sake, he planned to find out what the little widow was hiding.

  Carrie fought the urge to call Lorelei on her way to the shelter. From the moment the other woman had kicked Patch Farmer hard enough to send him to his knees, she’d been standing between Carrie and the rest of the world. When Carrie had learned that Patch had been killed, Lorelei was there. When she didn’t know where to turn or what to do, her new guardian angel had held her hand, helped her make calls, and even gave up her own job.

  Before Carrie ran the office of Lowry Construction, Lorelei had been the one pulling numbers and tracking inventory.

  All the more reason not to call. Her brief encounters with Noah Winchester reminded Carrie of something she’d been avoiding for more than a year. At some point, she would have to stand on her own. Lorelei couldn’t fight her battles forever. With their wedding coming up in a few weeks, Lorelei and Spencer needed to focus on their new life together. One that didn’t include an ex-wife in need of constant saving.

  So Noah didn’t think much of her. He wouldn’t be the first, and she doubted he’d be the last. Lorelei had been right when she’d said that Patch would never hurt her again. Not unless she let him. Starting now, Carrie would no longer play the victim. Getting past the anxiety was nothing more than mind over matter. Lorelei had bought her a book on dealing with the sudden bouts of panic and racing thoughts, and Carrie had read it from cover to cover.

  The author had provided several tools for maintaining control. Focus on her breathing. Find an object to ground herself. Self-talk her way out of the noise.

  She’d been trying the techniques for months, and sometimes they even worked. The next ten weeks would offer the perfect opportunity for more practice. By the time the Safe Haven shelter opened for business, Carrie would be an expert at controlling her emotions. An endless source of calm. A virtual Zen master.

  Or she’d have a permanent twitch and lose most of her hair.

  Obviously, Zen would not be achieved anytime soon, but Carrie’s headache had already faded, and the sight of the camp boosted her confidence. Less than six months ago, the shelter had been a wisp of a dream in the back of her mind. Today, thanks to Haleigh Rae Mitchner and her dauntless (and scary) mother, Meredith, who’d taken Carrie’s vision and turned it into something attainable, they were on the brink of making it a reality. Now it was Carrie’s turn to do her part and make sure that Safe Haven lived up to its name—providing a welcoming, safe, and free place for battered and abused women with no place else to go.

  Parking her car in front of the main entrance, Carrie let the rush of possibility wash over her. This was her opportunity to make a difference. To do for others what she hadn’t
been able to do for herself. Though she wished differently, deep down, Carrie knew that if Patch were alive, she’d still be with him. Still allowing him to abuse her, physically and mentally. But maybe, if there were a real option, she’d have the courage to leave. Now she could give that option to others, and like it or not, she needed Noah Winchester to help make it happen.

  The moment she opened her door, the sunny fall day erupted with the obnoxious rumble of Noah’s motorcycle. He parked next to her passenger door and blessedly cut the engine. Finding Zen would be impossible with that machine around.

  Mike pulled up beside Carrie’s car and lowered the window in his passenger door. “We have a problem,” he said, the truck still running.

  “What is it?”

  “Daryl tapped a gas line with the backhoe at the Methodist church. I have to get over there.”

  “But you have to show Noah around the camp.”

  The older man shook his head. “You’ll have to do it. You know the plans as well as I do.”

  “You want me to do this . . . alone?”

  “It’s that or I try to find time this week, but the more we put it off, the later we start the job.”

  They were already on a tight schedule if they wanted to meet the December first deadline. “I can do it,” she said, headache roaring to life. “Go do what you have to do. Will Noah’s crew be here in the morning?”

  “I’ve told them all to be here.” Mike handed her the shelter plans through the window. “Get him up to speed, and call me if you need me.”

  As Mike backed out, Noah stepped up beside her. “Where’s he going?”

  Holding her purse in a death grip, she replied, “There’s an emergency on another job site. I’ll be showing you around.”

  “You?” Noah asked.

  Marching toward the entrance, Carrie ignored the prickling along her skin. “That’s right. Me. Let’s get started.”

  Noah was impressed. The little secretary—office manager, he corrected himself—knew her stuff.

  “As you can see, the additions will require the most work, while the rest is predominantly cosmetic. Of course, the camp is forty years old, so there could be unforeseen issues, but we’re optimistic that the job will go smoothly once we get started.”

  “That’s the first rookie comment I’ve heard you make,” he said. “No construction job, especially one on anything this old, goes smoothly.”

  Carrie appeared to be fighting for patience. “I prefer to be optimistic.”

  He wondered if she was this contrary with everyone or just him.

  “So what’s your stake in this?” he asked.

  “Excuse me?” she said, stepping through a cobweb that would have sent men bigger than Noah squealing from the room.

  Dodging the silk threads, he tested the sturdiness of a wall to find it detached at the bottom. Not a good sign.

  “Why a women’s shelter? Why not a kids’ camp or something?”

  “The area needs a shelter,” she said, stopping near the entrance. “There are women being abused who have nowhere to go.”

  Noah didn’t realize that domestic violence had become an issue in his hometown.

  “Really?” he said. “In Ardent Springs?”

  “Do you think men only beat their wives in big cities?” she asked, the color high in her cheeks. “It happens everywhere, and it’s happening here.”

  Holding up his hands in surrender, he said, “No need to get so testy. Any man who hits a woman deserves to have his head knocked off. I’m with you. I just didn’t realize we had that kind of a problem around here.”

  To his surprise, Carrie relaxed. “You don’t believe in hitting a woman?”

  What kind of a question was that? “Hell no, I’d never hit a woman. What kind of a guy do you think I am?”

  “Women fall for men all the time who say that. A few months later, they’re putting ice on a black eye.”

  This chick had clearly met some serious assholes before Patch.

  “Real men don’t beat women. Period.”

  “Even if the woman deserves it?” she asked, as if testing him.

  “Never,” he said. “Not even if she swings first.”

  Satisfied with his answer, Carrie smiled and her entire face changed. In an instant, Noah understood why Patch had been so determined to have her. Blue eyes brightened like polished diamonds, and a tiny dimple appeared in her left cheek. A man could search his whole life and never find such raw beauty and innocence staring back at him. Just looking at her made him feel lighter. More human.

  “You should smile like that more often,” he said, leaning against the wall, aware that a goofy grin slit his face.

  “I smile at my daughter all the time,” she said, her voice softer.

  “Then that’s one lucky little girl.” He nearly asked if he could buy her lunch before he remembered who he was with. Noah shook his head to clear it as he rose off the wall. “Is that the whole tour then?”

  Carrie’s smile vanished, as if she too had come back to reality.

  “Yes, we’ve gone over everything. The work starts tomorrow, and your crew will arrive by eight.” All business once again, she held out the blueprints. “You can review these overnight if you’d like.”

  Taking the cardboard cylinder, he said, “I’ll do that, thanks.” An awkward silence fell between them, and Noah couldn’t believe one smile had reduced him to a nervous schoolboy. “My cell number is in the paperwork back at the office. You can send it to the crew and make sure Mike has it in case he needs me.”

  “Of course. And I’ll text you the names of the men you’ll be working with so you know who to expect in the morning.”

  Good thing one of them was thinking straight.

  “I appreciate that.” Pushing the door open, he let Carrie exit first and caught a whiff of strawberry shampoo. His body reacted as if he’d never smelled a fruit before.

  Thankfully, Carrie proceeded to her car without looking back, and Noah crossed to his bike, at which point he realized there was nowhere to put the blueprints.

  Tapping on her passenger window, he held up the plans with raised brows. Carrie lowered the window.

  “Did we forget something?”

  Noah admitted his problem. “I can’t get these home on the bike. Can you bring them over when you get home from work?”

  “Oh.” She looked down at her seat as if unsure how to answer. “I guess so.”

  “I appreciate it.” He slid the cylinder through the window and stepped back. “I’ll see you later, then.”

  Carrie nodded as the window went up. Seconds later, she disappeared down the gravel drive.

  “Get your shit together, dickhead,” he said to himself as he reached for his helmet. Seeing Carrie Farmer as anything more than a coworker, neighbor, and his friend’s widow was out of the question. One pretty smile didn’t change anything. Noah never made the same mistake twice, and this wasn’t the time to start.

  “I don’t know what happened.” Carrie perched on a stool in front of the Lulu’s Corner Cafe counter inside Snow’s Curiosity Shop. “He stopped looking at me like rotten garbage, and his lips curled into a grin. I think I might have batted my eyelashes.”

  Lorelei slid a cupcake across the counter. “You’re only human, honey. Hormones had to kick in at some point.”

  “No,” she argued. “Hormones do not need to kick in. Not now and not ever.”

  Thin brows shot up a flawless forehead. “That’s a little unrealistic, don’t you think?”

  Carrie toyed with the cupcake wrapper. “Realistic is that I was unfaithful to one man and abused by the next. Clearly, my judgment is not to be trusted in either direction. I’m better off not getting involved with anyone. Not that I’d ever get involved with Noah Winchester. That would prove I’m insane.”

  “You aren’t insane, Carrie. We all make mistakes, but that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve a second chance.”

  “This would be chance number three.” S
he licked a dollop of buttercream off her finger. “Three strikes and you’re out would be my luck.”

  “I thought I was the drama queen in this group.” Lorelei waved a hand in the air. “Let’s get Snow in on this.”

  “There’s nothing to get Snow in on,” Carrie said, but Lorelei ignored her.

  “You need to help me talk some sense into our little friend here,” she said as Snow took the stool next to Carrie’s. “She’s swearing off men for life.”

  “Been there, done that,” Snow replied. “You see how far it got me.”

  Snow happened to be blissfully married to quite possibly the most gorgeous man that Carrie had ever met. Though Caleb didn’t have arms like Noah’s. Not that arms matter, scolded the one sensible voice left in her psyche. Which wasn’t actually true. Arms totally mattered.

  “Are you listening to us?” Lorelei asked, snapping her fingers in front of Carrie’s face. “Where did you go?”

  “I’m listening.” Carrie sat up straighter. “What did you say?”

  The shop owner laughed while the baker rolled her eyes. “Stop daydreaming about your neighbor.”

  “There’s a neighbor?” Snow asked. “Why haven’t I heard about this neighbor?”

  “He was a jerk, but now he might not be,” Lorelei explained. “And she’s refusing to explore the possibilities.”

  “There are no possibilities. The man can barely stand the sight of me, and he talks about Patch like he was the greatest guy ever.”

  Leaning back, Snow said, “This guy knew your husband?”

  Carrie nodded. “They grew up together. Noah was around when I first started seeing Patch. He knows that I was married and feels the need to remind me of my sins every chance he gets.”

  Turning to Lorelei, Snow said, “Why would we want her to explore anything with this idiot?”

  “I’m not saying it has to be this idiot,” Lorelei corrected, “but she’s saying no man ever. That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

  Snow tapped her chin in contemplation. “I wouldn’t say she needs a man in order to be happy. That idea has always annoyed me.”