Lone Star Hero

by Jennie Jones

  Suddenly, the romantic mood left her and the pain in her heart was so great, she had to bite into her bottom lip in case she started bawling.

  He was totally over the-top-gorgeous. And he did like her.

  “Hey, Molly!”

  She looked at the door but he wasn’t there. His voice came to her from somewhere around the steps that led to the top story.

  “What now?” she called.

  “I’ll miss you, too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  By the next morning, tempers and emotions had calmed down. Molly was grateful she didn’t have to spend more energy than needed on bickering. Because of lack of sleep again last night, she was already more tired than she’d like to be, given the day ahead. She wasn’t sure that Saul had slept much either, because when she’d gotten up at five am, he’d already been in the bathroom—the steam still on the mirrors and the warmth of the hot water from his shower not yet evaporated from the air. When she’d gotten to the hacienda kitchen to prepare his breakfast, he was already there. He’d dried and put away the dishes from last night’s meal. And he’d cooked pancakes.

  She’d suddenly felt her hunger pangs. Of the stomach variety not the in-lust variety. Well, maybe a bit of both...

  Three hours later and they’d worked alongside each other in a cooperative manner. Molly accepting whatever he politely asked her to do because, one...he’d asked nicely and without an iota of a bossy tone, and two...because he knew what he was doing, and he was doing all this so Molly had her roof frame built before he left.

  It was overly warm today, the heat in the air like a cloying veil. “Storm brewing,” Molly said, resting her backside against the metal poles of the scaffolding. She was on the lower level, Saul on the upper.

  “Looks like it,” he agreed.

  He’d done all the crane lifting bits—if they’d been in a friendlier frame of mind, Molly would have asked him to show her how to do it—and the remaining rafters were in place. But so far, she hadn’t made it to roof level as she’d been in charge of ensuring each numbered rafter made it safely from platform one of the scaffolding to platform two. She lifted, he hauled. The guy had a lot of strength in those shoulders.

  “I’ve ordered felt underlayment for you,” he said, jumping down from the upper platform to hers. “It should be delivered tomorrow. You did say you had enough money to cover this cost, right?”

  “Yes. So long as it’s no more than I thought it would be.”

  “It’s just below that figure. I paid for it.”

  “You what?”

  “You can repay me. I’ll take cash or a check. I don’t care which, but you’re going to need it up and in place before I go.” He looked up at the sky and inhaled the unexpected Texas humidity. “In case it takes you a bit of time to get your tiler out here.”

  “He won’t be my tiler. This is nothing to do with me. It’s Momma’s idea and she’s finding the tiler.”

  “Whatever,” he said, pulling the hem of his T-shirt from his jeans and lifting it up and over his head. He threw it onto the side rail of the scaffolding. “Sorry to show my stupid abs, but I’m getting hot.”

  “I’m impervious.”

  He laughed, which made her smile. “So, what next?” she asked, pulling her work gloves off to give her hands some air time, and grateful they were back on the friendly level she’d missed.

  “We’re done here, until I get that underlayment. So how about we get you up on the two-story roof and we check your valleys and joists?”

  Her smile bloomed. “I’m so out of touch with my valleys and joists. I need to know what they’re up to.”

  He looked at her for a while, then eventually offered a reluctant grin, as though he’d been making up his mind whether to keep up the bad mood he was in, or relent and take her up on the offer of being reasonably friendly. He obviously chose the latter.

  He bent to pick a couple of bottles of cold water out of the cooler she’d brought up on the scaffolding, and threw one her way. “How about rehydrating first?” he asked as she caught it.

  Molly drank most of the water, tipped the rest onto her hands then ran a hand over the back of her neck. “So what’s in your tool belt?” she asked, nodding at the leather belt strung around his waist and falling to his hip.

  “Important man stuff.”

  “Is your special tool in there?”

  He choked on his water. “No,” he said, now grinning broadly.

  Molly grinned back. “So this speciality tool of yours. Is it what I think it is?”

  “What do you think it is?” he asked, eyes hooded in amusement.

  “It’s not something you keep in your bag or your tool belt.”

  “Correct.”

  “And it’s not something you hold in your hand.”

  His grin turned so endearing she almost missed the man-blush.

  “Oh, right.” God—it was that tool.

  “There are times when it’s necessary to hold it,” he said quietly. “Like when I’m taking a p—”

  “I get it!”

  “And various other occasions.”

  “Oh, shut up!” She threw her empty plastic bottle at him.

  He caught it with a laugh, then dumped it back in the cooler along with his own. “Come on, Spark. Let’s go walk your roof.”

  Molly took a moment to relish the comfort and relief their easy friendship gave her. Then followed him up the ladder placed against the wall of the two-story section.

  “Oh, wow,” she said, accepting his hand as she stepped onto the tiled roof. She pointed at everything they’d been working for—the pitched rafters on the single story below. “We’ve got a roof.”

  “Nearly a roof,” he answered. “Watch your step,” he said without looking back. “You know where to walk.”

  She paused a moment, watching him. Such a fine sight—a bare-chested Saul Solomon up on her roof, with grand Calamity land surrounding him.

  Thirty minutes later they’d inspected the valleys and the area of tiles around the chimneys, with Saul lifting a few tiles to take a look at the wood joists. No damp, amazingly, but the felt underlay would definitely need to be replaced. Along with a number of tiles that had slipped or cracked. But because Alice had replaced them six years ago, it wasn’t as horrendous a job as Molly had feared it might be.

  “So just a remove and replace job, in the main,” she said, fixing a clay tile back in place by the chimney pot. “Plus underlayment for this part of the roof, too.”

  “Just make sure it’s not on a possibly to-do list,” Saul said. “You’re going to need this job done within twelve months.”

  “It’s not sexy, like a new kitchen or another Pro camera, but it’s got to be done.”

  “You’ll manage. I know you will.”

  Molly smacked dust and dirt off her hands before turning to look at him. His lowered tone suggested he had more to say.

  “You want to say something,” she said.

  “I do, and it’s going to shock you. I appreciate you, Molly. All there is of you. Inside and out.”

  Everything within her settled. Her thoughts about him, about him leaving, about being on her own. Instead, she became conscious of her appreciation for what they’d shared these last days. For their friendship. For meeting up in the first place.

  “Since we’re being truthful,” she said. “I think you’re an excellent boss.”

  He acknowledged it with a small smile and slight bow. “Thank you. So shall we shake on this?”

  “Our new respect for each other?” Molly asked as he walked toward her. “Like an adversary to friends’ pact?”

  “Something like that. Although I think we got over the adversary issue pretty quickly, don’t you?”

  “I do.” She took his outstretched hand.

  His fingers curled around hers and he didn’t squeeze but still her hand was engulfed in his and she didn’t want him to ever let go.

  “I think it was that time we sat outside,
by your porch rules sign,” he said. “Or maybe before, when you first gave me the finger.”

  Molly let out a laugh.

  “Thanks, Molly Mackillop,” he said softly and sincerely. “I’m glad I bumped into you after all this time.”

  “It’s a fine place to shake hands and appreciate each other, Saul Solomon,” she said quietly, not wanting to disturb the tranquility that had fallen around them.

  He looked over her head and narrowed his eyes at the scenery behind her. Molly didn’t need to look at it, she knew it like she knew the map of veins on the back of her hand.

  “It’s like heaven.” He brought his gaze to hers, the blue of his eyes turning as dusky gray as the sky above them. “Want to kiss while we’re up here?” he asked.

  Molly inhaled, still caught up in the peacefulness. She nodded, slowly, then turned it into a shake.

  “Except we’d better not,” he agreed softly, like he was reading her thoughts.

  He released her hand and she clenched it at her side, trying to hold on to the warmth from Saul’s hand and wrap it up so she would never forget it.

  “I’m going to go back to Colorado to see my mom and my sister.”

  She loved that he was opening up to her like this. Up on the roof, anything was possible. “It’s best.”

  “Don’t know about that. I haven’t been able to make up my mind on a number of things since I got to Hopeless.”

  “It does that to you, this place. You get lost in it.”

  “I’ve found a job I can do in Colorado.” He met her eye. “Another building job. I’ll take it, since I might be spending a bit of time there, sorting out this family issue. I’m not expecting any of them to want to take me back into the fold quickly.”

  “It’ll be easier than you think.”

  “It’s best if I go, Molly.”

  She knew what he was explaining without need of the explanation.

  “I can’t stay here,” he said. “Not forever—and it wouldn’t be fair to stay for a while, in case...”

  In case she fell in love with him and it all became terribly complicated. “Problem is, I already have,” she told him.

  “Have what?’

  “Nothing. It’s the right time for you to go.”

  “I’m sensing a problem. Is there something else?” he asked. “I’ll stay a couple of days longer if you need something.”

  How about a couple of decades longer? Or five decades.

  “No. You go. I understand you have to. And now you’ve been given your opportunity.” She tried for a smile but it felt as wobbly as her resolve to remain courageous.

  Sometime in her future, some god somewhere was going to reward her for her bravery. She didn’t know many women who’d let a man like Saul go. But, then again, there probably weren’t many women around who could see that he had to go. For himself. For his family.

  He gauged her for a long time, then drew a breath, as though it had caught him unawares that he did actually need to breathe. “I stayed put in Colorado for twenty-four years,” he said. “But all that time, I had plans. I was saving. I wanted out but I never felt tethered, because of those plans.”

  “Tethered?”

  “No, Molly—I don’t mean I’d feel tethered here with you. I don’t mean that.”

  “That’s what it sounded like.” The conversation was taking a turn that was too close to exposing her real feelings than she’d like, but she hadn’t been able to halt the words, or the hurt his pronouncement had given her.

  “I was seven when I first ran away from home,” he said, his eyes drinking in hers as though he wanted her to listen and to understand. “I didn’t think I was running away—I was going on an adventure. I always knew I’d wander and keep wandering. I don’t expect to ever find some place that will hold me.”

  “But you want to start your hiking business,” she reasoned. “Doesn’t that mean you’d have to stay put?”

  “Kind of. But I changed. After I discovered I wasn’t who I thought I was—”

  “Don’t say that,” she interrupted. “You’re you. There’s no difference between the you then, and the you now. Except that you can’t see that there isn’t a difference.”

  “We’re getting a bit deep here.”

  “So why do you think you changed?” she persisted.

  “I wanted something tangible to hold onto and to grow, all the while still having the ground beneath my feet. With a hiking business, I can walk for miles and miles every day.”

  Molly shook her head. “No. You wanted to prove to your family that you didn’t need them. That you could still get by without them. It’s what I did, too.”

  “Like I said, Molly, this is getting a bit deep.”

  “I struggled when I arrived in Colorado six years ago,” she admitted. She’d never told anyone this, although she guessed Alice knew. “I didn’t know how to be me. I didn’t want people to see the real me—the soothsayer’s granddaughter, the wacky Mackillop—”

  “I don’t like hearing you say that. You’re putting yourself down.”

  “Yes. It’s what I did for six years. I locked myself away from everything I’d been. I changed my hair color to blond. I got engaged on a whim. I wasn’t the real me.”

  “And now you are?”

  “I think so.”

  His focus on her softened, in a caring way. “I’m happy for you.”

  She studied his face and his slight smile, capturing the image in her head. “I’d like to be happy for you, too,” she told him, wanting that for him, wherever he was going.

  His smile widened a little. “I’ll let you know when that possibility occurs.”

  He turned, and it felt like he was already walking away from her.

  Suddenly, he slipped, skidding toward the edge of the roof.

  Molly gasped, ran forward and grabbed his arm, but he’d already put his hands onto the roof and stopped himself from sliding any further.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, breath high in her chest.

  He righted himself, frowning, as though bemused, then met her eye. “I thought you’d pushed me,” he said quietly.

  “Me?” she asked, aghast. “Why would I do something so stupid?”

  He shook his head, as though to clear his thoughts. “Sorry. Of course you wouldn’t. Come on. Let’s get down. It’s real chilly up here suddenly.”

  Molly looked around. It was only a light breeze. There was no chill. Not from the weather, anyway. But she shivered, regardless. “Did you really feel someone’s hand on your back?” The GGs. Heck, maybe she ought not to discount their powers any longer. Especially while up on the roof! “I didn’t push you,” she said again.

  Saul shrugged it off. “I just slipped.” He said it causally enough, and he said it with a slight smile.

  Molly smiled back, but some sort of dread had settled on her shoulders and she was beginning to feel that chill. “Has this happened before? What about that falling masonry—were you there when it fell?”

  “No.”

  “Have you had any other weird moments?”

  “No, Molly. Come on.”

  He took her hand and led her to the ladder.

  She didn’t pull away, it was comforting to have him hold her hand, and to hold his, which was warm and engulfed hers. Although if either of them slipped, they’d go over the edge together...

  She looked up at the sky, and with her free hand, behind Saul’s back, she gave the great-grandfathers the finger. She had a feeling they were trying to harm Saul because they wanted to frighten Molly. It wasn’t going to work. But she’d make sure that from now on, she was always up on the roof when Saul was.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Since he’d received a call that the felt underlayment couldn’t be delivered until late that afternoon, Saul had taken the morning off and headed out the hacienda grounds, eager to take a walk around the valley, and also do what he’d promised Winnie he’d do for the tourist booth she was so keen to run in Hopele
ss. Molly had gone into town to see how the open day plans were coming along, since a dozen of the able-bodied younger men in the valley—along with some of the older, more resilient residents, men and woman—were busy building a dog park and child’s play area.

  The air had even more of a storm-brewing cloyingness today. If luck was on his side, that underlayment would definitely get here today so he could make a start. He figured he’d get it up and onto the roof frame by the end of tomorrow. His last day. If not, then he’d stay until it was done since no tiler could tile until that underlayment was in place, along with fixed battens on the steeper section, so the guy had something to fix the lip of the tiles onto. But truth was, he felt it best if he worked hard to get the job done by the end of tomorrow as planned.

  She’s not on her own. He reminded himself of that for the hundredth time that morning. The reminder didn’t help. Yeah, she had her family and her people, but he wanted to watch this progression. He wanted to see her green eyes light up when the tiler finished the roof. He wanted to hear her laugh on the day her business opened, and see her smile when she greeted her first clients.

  Then what would he do? Leave her? It was unlikely he’d stay, he wasn’t capable of that sort of commitment. Not because he didn’t want to commit but because...

  He no longer knew why, but his gut instinct was driving and his gut told him he wasn’t the staying kind.

  He took his focus back to the land he was walking. There were plenty of natural tracks in the valley backcountry. Most needed some clearing, but it wouldn’t be too hard a task, especially as they’d begin by keeping them natural. Eventually, when they got enough money—or if they went into some agreement with the state park to allow access to and from the canyon with off-trail exploration, they could create dedicated pathways and include picnic tables and scenic barriers.

  He stopped walking on what he’d called Mother Nature Loop in honor of Marie, and pulled out his map and his compass. He hunched down, and on another map—one he was drawing for Winnie and her Calamity Valley tourist booth—he drew a basic topographical configuration of what Mother Nature Loop offered in terms of views, the distance it covered, and what skill sets were needed to walk it.