Love Reimagined (Kings Grove Book 2)

by Delancey Stewart

  Abe stopped walking and stared at Chance. “So you’re telling me I can shine up these two little sheds and that’s it?”

  Chance laughed and patted Abe’s back with a wink. “Nah, we’ve got a few tricks up our sleeve.” He pulled out a measuring tape and began barking out numbers, which I managed to write down as he said them. He stopped every few minutes to sketch something on a pad, and after about fifteen minutes, he walked back to where Abraham had sat on a tree stump to watch. “How about something like this?” He showed the pad to Abe and I stepped behind him, gazing over the older man’s head.

  Chance had drawn a two-story house, with the existing small sheds sticking out on either side like wings. It looked nice, still a bit rustic, but I wasn’t sure he hadn’t just broken the rules he’d spouted off a few minutes before.

  “Yeah, I mean…can we do that?” Abe asked.

  Chance laughed. “Yeah, we can do that.” He looked around the property, which sat on a significant slope. “We’ll need to level things up, dig in the foundation between the two existing buildings…” he seemed to be thinking. “Yep, no problem.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “I bet we can have it up by Christmas,” Chance said, and my mind spun. I’d seen the list of projects they already had lined up and was pretty sure most of the crews and equipment were booked through at least September. I knew next to nothing about construction, but wondered how this was possible.

  “Wow,” I said, not meaning to speak out loud.

  Chance shot me a glance with narrowed eyes. It could potentially have been translated to “shhhh.” But I didn’t read narrowed-eye glances very well.

  “That seems fast,” I said. “The bulk of the crews are on other jobs until the fall—you could probably get a few guys in and out for a couple days between jobs. But what do you do if we get an early snow?”

  “She’s new,” Chance laughed, turning to me. His eyes weren’t narrowed now, but the blue gray had darkened, and he definitely didn’t look happy with me.

  I smiled and wished I could suck the words back in.

  “We can hire a new crew, Abe,” Chance said, “and the odds of an early snow are slim based on recent years.”

  My dad put a bit of stock in the Farmer’s Almanac, which was actually predicting early snow this year, but it didn’t seem like a good idea to mention that now. A tiny cloud of shame was expanding inside me. Why had I said anything? I wasn’t a construction expert.

  “I see,” Abe was saying.

  “Miranda,” Chance turned to me, his face open and smiling again. “Why don’t you grab some shots while we’re here? Get the old structures on all four sides, and some good wide shots of the land around the buildings, okay?”

  I held up the camera in response, the way a chimpanzee might indicate that it understood a command. Realizing I was a moron, I lowered the camera and turned down my ridiculous grin to a moderate smile. “Sure,” I said, cringing at my own inability to behave like a normal person around Chance, and still feeling ashamed after his reprimand.

  After we’d said goodbye to Abe, we headed back to the office, Chance’s heady smell surrounding me in the small cab of the truck. He didn’t speak for a few minutes as we bumped down the narrow potholed roads of the village. As we neared the office again, he looked over at me. “Hey, Miranda. I know you’re new to construction. So it’d be really great if you’d just be eyes and ears for a while, okay?”

  Gah. I wanted to disappear. “I know, Chance, I’m really sorry about that,” I said, my words rushing out. “I just…I’d been looking at the resourcing the other day, and it just popped into my head, and—”

  “Right,” he interrupted. “And that’s cool. It’s just…you know, don’t say stuff like that in front of someone who wants to pay us to tell them what they want to hear, okay?”

  “But you can actually do the work by Christmas?”

  He laughed. “No, probably not. I mean, Sam will tell me. He’s the numbers guy. I just bring in the jobs.”

  “But you told Abe you could,” I said, remembering the glee on the older man’s face as he probably imagined planning a white Christmas in his new house.

  “Construction is notoriously off-schedule,” Chance said. “He won’t be surprised.”

  I closed my open mouth and turned back to gaze out the windshield. I didn’t like that. I didn’t like the way Chance just accepted that he’d be disappointing a man who trusted him. “Okay,” I said. And just as I thought maybe Chance wasn’t the guy I’d always believed him to be, he saved it.

  “Miranda,” he said, fixing those piercing eyes on me as we parked in front of the office again. “I love seeing your commitment to our clients, and your worry for them. The way you look out for other people,” he smiled and shook his head. “It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

  Loved? He loved things about me?

  “And I want to assure you that we’ll do our very best to get Abe’s project in on schedule. I’m just trying to prepare you for the reality that sometimes weather or circumstance keep us from delivering on time. And we’ll prepare Abe for the same possibility, okay?”

  I was still stuck on the fact that Chance had used the L word, and I nodded my head dumbly, following Chance’s broad-shouldered form from the truck and into the office. Where the scent of black licorice pervaded.

  My giddy smile faded when I found Sam standing next to my desk talking to my father, who wore a very grave expression. Something was wrong.

  “Thought you were sick, little bro?” Chance said, stopping to address the men as I lingered in the doorway.

  “Not anymore.” Sam’s face was almost as serious as my father’s. “Park Service needs our help.”

  “The fire’s jumped the canyon.” My dad’s voice was low and full of worry, and my own stomach twisted into a knot of anxiety in response.

  Chapter 12

  Sam

  Leaving Miranda alone with Chance wasn’t what I wanted to do, and as I turned and walked out of the office that morning, every step away seemed to grow more difficult. But the right thing wasn’t always the easy thing, right? And when you cared about someone, you did what was good for them—right for them—even when it wasn’t what you wanted. Who knew what I wanted, anyway? I’d had a ridiculous crush on Miranda George since I’d been a little kid. There’d been something about her back then, a bright optimistic innocence that drew me in. It was something she still carried, though I felt like now she tried to hide it sometimes, like she’d gotten the idea it wasn’t mature to be so open to the world, so eager. If I could figure out who had made her think that, I’d throttle them. Hell, it was probably my brother.

  “Hey Sam,” Maddie greeted me as I went into the diner. I should’ve gone home. I’d told Chance and Miranda I was sick, and now that I’d given her time to be alone with my brother, I did actually feel a little sick, but I thought there was a chance Frank’s pecan pie might solve the problem.

  “Hey Maddie.” I took a spot at the counter and sank back into the cushy red vinyl seat. “I’ll take a piece of pecan pie when you have a minute.”

  “I thought you had that pecan pie look about you,” Maddie said, giving me an understanding smile as she pulled a plate from behind the counter and removed the pie dome. “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head. Miranda and Maddie were friends, and anything I said here could get back to Miranda. “Nah, I’m okay.”

  Maddie set the pie in front of me with a cup of coffee, and added a squirt of whipped cream to both. I couldn’t help my sweet tooth. Licorice, whipped cream and Miranda George were things I just liked. I couldn’t necessarily explain why. But Maddie seemed to understand, at least about the whipped cream. I stirred the cream into my coffee and watched the colors meld and blend, wishing things were just a little bit easier.

  For a few minutes, I was on my own, and while the pie and coffee were good, they didn’t do much for the strange ache inside me.

 
“This is not the face of a guy who just needed a piece of pie,” Maddie said, taking the stool next to me.

  I shrugged. She was right, and maybe I did need to talk to someone. “No, you’re right.”

  “Need an ear?”

  I sighed and leaned back, crossing my arms. “I don’t know, Maddie. It’s not one thing, it’s nothing simple.”

  She squinted and pressed her lips together, and then started tentatively. “Can I take a guess?”

  “Sure.”

  “Is it Miranda?”

  A single laugh escaped my lips, but it held no mirth. It was more a sound of relief, in a way, to let that little bit of truth out. “Partly, yeah.”

  Maddie sat back, clearly waiting for more.

  “She likes my brother.” Maddie’s eyes confirmed that she already knew that. “So I offered to help her get his attention, maybe catch his eye romantically.” I dropped my gaze to the bite of pie left on my plate and pushed the plate away. Pie didn’t sound good at all now. “So I gave her a couple tips and pretended to be sick, and left them at the office together alone.”

  “Oh,” Maddie said, understanding clearing her features.

  “Why do you say it like that?” I don’t know why I was challenging her. It was obvious she could see beyond my words, but I needed to hear someone say it out loud, since I couldn’t manage it.

  “Maybe you’d rather have time alone with her? Maybe you think she’s interested in the wrong Palmer brother?”

  I swung my legs to face Maddie, not wanting anyone else to overhear, a concern probably left over from school days when anyone with a bit of juicy gossip like this might ruin your life with it. “I don’t know,” I said miserably. “It doesn’t matter how I feel because she completely hates me. She always has.”

  “And you’ve always…”

  “Yeah.” The years unspooled in my mind. I had no idea how long I’d been fond of Miranda. “I used to just like her, you know? We played together as kids—she was kind of like the little sister I never had. But then we got older…” I trailed off, thinking of a day in eighth grade when I’d felt a bolt of jealousy spear me as I watched Klein Boldt kiss Miranda in the hallway at school. That hadn’t lasted long, but I’d suffered through every second of it. Thankfully, Miranda didn’t seem to date much. It would have killed me. “It’s stupid. Like I said, she seriously hates me. And she likes my brother.” Because he was Chance. Because he was perfect. Because no one but me could see past his shiny exterior.

  “She thinks she likes Chance,” Maddie said slowly.

  “She’s had a lot of years to figure it out,” I assured her.

  “But she’s looking at the wrong brother.”

  “Not if you ask her.”

  “So how do we make her look at you?” I could almost hear the wheels turning in Maddie’s brain.

  I stood up. “It’s okay, Mads. This isn’t for you to fix. I appreciate you listening, but seriously. It’s fine. It’s nothing new. I just need to forget about the whole thing and move on. I’ve actually been looking at taking over the office down in Sacramento, maybe get a new perspective in a bigger place.”

  Maddie nodded, but her eyes widened in surprise.

  “There’s not much for me up here,” I continued, wishing my mouth would just shut. “I’ve been here forever, and that was never really the plan.”

  “Sure,” Maddie said. “I get it. But what if—”

  I smiled at her, and I could feel the resignation showing on my face. “I’ve ‘what-if’d’ it all to death,” I told her. “It makes the most sense for me to get my feet on the ground somewhere else. Where maybe I’m the only Palmer brother around for a few miles.”

  She tilted her head to the side and pulled me into a hug, and even though I would never have reached out to hug her, it felt nice to believe that someone understood, even just a little bit. “You’re a good guy, Sam.”

  “You’re not going to say anything to Miranda, right?” I stepped back.

  “Of course I won’t,” she promised.

  “Good. Thanks.” I turned and moved toward the door. Adele stood at the podium, and gave me a smile that looked like it might have pained her. Then she barked at Maddie. “Back to work, Princess.” That was Adele’s way of telling us she cared about us. She had a rock-hard exterior, but she was soft on the inside. Maybe. Or maybe she really was just kind of mean, but I’d known her long enough to believe her bark was much worse than her bite. “See you later, Adele.”

  “Palmer.”

  I went back to the truck and climbed in, still not excited about the idea of going home. Instead, I drove out to the site of a refurbishment we had going on for the Lesters around the side of the meadow in the village. The old two-story structure was rotting, and we were rebuilding the thing in place, adding a new roof and upgrading the bathroom. Cameron, Maddie’s brother, was leading the crew out there. He’d worked for my dad when we were all in high school for a couple summers, and now he threw himself into work like no one I’d ever seen.

  I got out of the truck as the wind rose, making a rushing sound through the tops of the huge trees that stood on either side of the road, and something in the air pulled at my senses, though I couldn’t say exactly what it was. The sky had been clear and brilliant blue moments before, but now a cloud bank was rolling over us with the wind, and my gut churned for no reason I could identify. I shoved the feeling aside and strode onto the site, where Cam and Jack were up on the roof. I waited until they were both looking up to call to them, not wanting to startle anyone into falling. “Hey Cam!”

  Cameron gazed down at me and lifted a hand. “What’s up, Sam?”

  “Just checking in. Progress looks good out here. All going okay?”

  The older man’s gaze left my face and he lifted his eyes to the clouds coming in, and the feeling of dread I’d had a moment before returned. “Get down,” Cameron said to the other man in a stern tone.

  “It’s cool,” I called back. I didn’t mean to interrupt the job, and didn’t really need to talk to Cam. As they descended ladders on opposing sides of the cabin, realization hit me, as it had surely hit Cameron just a moment before. The clouds boiling over the treetops weren’t clouds at all. Ash began to fall around us, littering the sky like charred snowflakes. Smoke.

  “The wind shifted,” Cam said, hitting the ground. “Fire’s changing directions.”

  “Better head to the station.” I slid into the truck and the two men got into a second truck behind me. We drove to the ranger station in town and parked. Mr. George was on the phone at the desk inside when we entered. We waited until he’d hung up, his voice low as he said, “I understand. We’ll do all we can up here.”

  “Ash is falling in the village,” I said. “Wind shifted.”

  “The fire’s crossed the canyon,” he said, his face etched with worry. “It’s coming this way.”

  We stood still for a moment, each man letting his own thoughts unwind for a brief time before we took action. Then Mr. George stood. “Sam, I think we’re gonna need some help.”

  “Yes, sir.” Together, we turned and exited the station, heading for the office. Cameron and Jack waited outside.

  Chapter 13

  Miranda

  What does this mean, Dad?” Fear began to coil tightly in my chest, and I swallowed hard, trying to push it down.

  My father shook his head, his face still grim. “If the fire holds its course, it means we’ll be evacuating in a few days. Until then, we need to do everything we can to get a clear perimeter around any structures and give the firefighters the best possible chance to protect the village.”

  “Shit,” Chance said, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. I could see stress and tension in the set of his shoulders, and I instinctively stepped closer to him, wishing I could help somehow. He dropped his big hands to the surface of my desk and looked down, seeming to think.

  “We can take the dozers out behind the ridge down the fire road if the firefighters c
ould use them,” Sam said. “Help clear everything we can off the eastern hillsides.”

  “That’d sure be a help if you guys can spare the men and equipment. The Hotshots are back there, but with so many fires burning around the state, they’re short handed.” I knew that Hotshots were the experienced backcountry firefighters who did their best to keep wildfires under control. They were like the special forces of firefighters.

  “A lot of our guys are down in the valley this week,” Chance said.

  “I could get a couple men from the village if you could show them what to do,” Dad said.

  “Miranda, can you take a quick inventory of the equipment we’ve got up here right now?” Sam asked me. I dropped into my chair and pulled up the spreadsheet we’d been working with.

  Within fifteen minutes, Sam had gone back out with my dad to get some volunteers from town, and Chance and I were left alone in the office. There was an unsettled air around us, a tension that hadn’t been there before.

  “Shit,” Chance said, his eyes wider than normal. “This could ruin everything—we’ve got projects in various stages of completion all over this mountain. Money sunk that we’ll never recoup.”

  I nodded, but I couldn’t stop thinking about my own house, about my parents, about what life might be like if we lost everything.

  “I’m sorry, Miranda,” Chance said suddenly, his face clearing as he looked at me. “I know it’s not just me. The people up here…your family…no one wants to contemplate losing their house. Do you need to go home?”

  I shook my head. “I might just give my mom a call though, see how she’s doing?”

  Chance stepped toward me and dropped a hand on my shoulder. I was certain it was meant to be comforting, but it was so distracting I could barely think. That was the second time today he’d touched me suddenly, and my stomach flipped upside down. “Of course. Want to use Sam’s office?”