Fighting for Us: A Small Town Family Romance (The Bailey Brothers Book 2)

by Claire Kingsley

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  She eyed me for a second, like she wasn’t sure about leaving me alone. “Okay. Keep me updated on any and all developments with Asher. If that man so much as smiles at you, I want to hear about it.”

  “Yeah, of course. Do you want a ride to the airfield?”

  “No, I’ll just leave my car there.”

  I walked her outside so we could hug and say goodbye. The clouds were finally clearing up after last night’s storm. I drove back into town and stopped at a drive-through ATM, then popped into work to see how things were going. If Cara had been with me, we would have grabbed lunch somewhere downtown, but since I was alone, I just poured myself a cup of coffee to go and headed out.

  I’d planned to stop for some groceries, but that could wait. I did need to swing by the hardware store. Since buying my house, I’d become a regular customer. Unlike Cara, I didn’t have a limitless bank account, so hiring a contractor to come in and do all the work in one fell swoop was out. She’d offered to bankroll it for me, but there was no way I could accept that kind of money from her.

  The hardware store was a short drive from the Steaming Mug. I slowed at an intersection shortly before the turn. Two guys stood in the bed of a pickup truck. I got closer and sure enough, it was Luke and Zachary Haven. They were scraping a Bailey Avenue sticker off the street sign.

  I chuckled as I drove by. They had their work cut out for them. Those stickers were everywhere. I wondered if they knew about the one on my street. I’d have to ask Logan and Gavin if they had any more stickers so I could replace it if someone took it off. Although they hadn’t admitted to putting up all the Bailey street signs, it had obviously been them.

  That reminded me, I needed to crochet another beard to put on Lola, the pinup girl statue. It had been a while since any of us had bearded her.

  A handful of cars were parked outside the hardware store. Asher had worked here back in college. It was so strange. It didn’t look any different. Still the same faded red building with a big sign that read Tilikum Hardware across the front. I could remember meeting Asher here after he got off work. Hopping into his car and driving into town to get burgers and ice cream at the Zany Zebra. Or going back to his apartment and straight to his bed.

  The front doors opened, and someone walked out pushing a full cart. What was it I’d needed here? Suddenly I couldn’t quite remember. I tapped the steering wheel and my engine still hummed. I hadn’t turned the car off yet.

  My chest felt strangely tight and a nervous ache clawed at me from the inside. I hadn’t eaten much today. Maybe the coffee wasn’t sitting well in my empty stomach.

  I backed out of my parking spot, deciding food was more important than whatever I’d been meaning to get. I’d just have to come back later.

  At home, I fixed myself a quick lunch. About half an hour later, there was a knock on my door. I answered it to find a grocery delivery sitting on the step. That was weird. The delivery person was already pulling out of the driveway. I went outside and tried to wave him down—he must have had the wrong address—but he didn’t see me.

  I eyed the bags sitting in front of my door, not sure what to do with them. Maybe they were for one of my neighbors. I crouched down and unfolded the receipt stapled to the first bag. It had a handwritten note at the bottom.

  Deliver to Grace Miles. From Cara Goulding.

  Oh my god. Cara had ordered me groceries.

  I brought them inside, then sent her a text.

  Me: Why did you send me groceries?

  Cara: You said you needed some.

  Me: That doesn’t really answer my question. I can buy my own groceries.

  Cara: I know but I felt bad for bailing on you before we could run errands. So now you don’t have to.

  Me: You’re so silly. What if I’d gone to the store already?

  Cara: You didn’t.

  Me: You’re very sure about that.

  Cara: I know you.

  Me: I guess you do. Anyway, this is really sweet. Thank you.

  Cara: No problem, boo. Love you!

  Me: Love you too.

  I put the groceries away—she’d ordered my favorite of everything—and pondered what to do with the rest of my day. I could turn on a mindless show and crochet. That would at least keep my hands busy. But I was craving a more intense activity.

  With a house to remodel, there was no shortage of things to do. I changed into an old t-shirt and cutoffs so I could get to work.

  The kitchen was still half demolished, but I wasn’t ready to dive into that project any further. However, there was the old rec room next to the garage. I hadn’t touched that space yet.

  I wandered over and stood in the doorway with my hands on my hips. Dusty rose. That was probably what they’d called this shade of carpet. Over the years, the pink had faded into a sad gray-tinged mauve. I could practically smell the decades of dirt ground into the fibers. No wonder I hadn’t tackled this room yet. Gross.

  The flooring needed to go, so I’d start there. With a deep breath of resolve, I started pulling up the baseboards. The thin oak popped off the walls in long strips. Once I’d taken all the old trim out to the debris pile in the garage, it was time to tackle the carpet.

  I loosened one corner and pulled it back, hoping to see the same original hardwoods that I’d found throughout most of the house. But it looked like there was a layer of linoleum underneath. That was odd. And hideous. I didn’t know what was worse—the yellow, brown, and olive-green pattern on this floor, or the dusty rose carpet someone had put over the top of it.

  The linoleum seemed to be glued down. I sliced a piece of it with a box cutter and ripped it free. Particle board. Groaning, I tossed the floor scrap aside. One of the other rooms had been like this—a layer of particle board topped by glued-down linoleum. And it had been a nightmare to get out. This was going to be a lot more work than I’d thought.

  I went back to the garage to get a crowbar when a thought crossed my mind. I could really use some help, and Asher had volunteered.

  Had he meant it? I didn’t think he would have said it otherwise. Maybe that had been a hint that he wanted to be involved. I certainly wanted him here, and not just so I could spend time with him—although that was also true. But I wanted him to have a hand in restoring this place. Give him a chance to put his mark on it.

  And now that the thought was in my mind, I couldn’t get it out. I’d been trying to give him space—it was clear he needed it—but right about now, I’d give almost anything to have him near me. Prison bars no longer separated us, but there were barriers just the same. I just needed a little bit of him. Enough to keep me going.

  I brought the crowbar inside and found my phone so I could text him.

  Me: Hey. Remember when you said to let you know if I need help with the house?

  Asher: Yeah, what do you need?

  His quick reply made me tear up. No questions, no excuses. Just, what do you need? I wished everything with him could be this easy.

  Me: I’m ripping up flooring and ran into a snag. I could use those big muscles of yours. Are you busy?

  Asher: I’ll be right over.

  15

  Grace

  Less than ten minutes later, Asher was on my doorstep. I opened the door and for a split second, I couldn’t move. He was dressed in a tank top that showed the full span of his shoulders and the tattoos covering most of his right arm. He was so solid and thick, yet his deep brown eyes hinted at softness underneath all that muscle. At a piece of the Asher I’d once known.

  He was standing right here. And even though he was only a foot away, I still missed him so much it hurt to breathe.

  “Hey.” I tried to keep my voice light. “Thanks for coming over.”

  “Sure. You didn’t say you needed any tools, but I have a bunch in the truck just in case.”

  I stepped aside so he could come in. “Thanks. I think we’re good for now. I thought this ro
om just had carpet, but there’s a layer of linoleum glued down to particle board underneath.”

  “Sounds shitty.”

  “Yeah, pulling up particle board is no fun.”

  I handed him a crowbar and led him to the room. He wrinkled his nose.

  “I know, it smells dirty in here,” I said. “This is one of the few rooms I haven’t touched yet. In fact, I had a bunch of stuff stacked in front of the door for a long time. I almost forgot this was here.”

  He pulled a pair of work gloves out of his back pocket and put them on. “I can see why.”

  “I figure once we get the carpet out, we’ll have a better idea of what we’re dealing with. I’m hoping there’s hardwood underneath the particle board, but it’s hard to say. I don’t know if this room is original, or if someone added it after the house was built or what.”

  “There’s definitely a level change when you walk in here. This floor sits higher than the rest of the house. That’s probably a good sign.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too.”

  He clapped his hands together. “All right. Let’s get this dirty pink shit out of here.”

  “Amen to that.”

  The carpet came up without too much trouble. We sliced it so we could roll it up in sections, and haul them out to the debris pile. Then we pulled up the carpet strips so we didn’t have to worry about all the sharp tacks getting in our way.

  Asher took a crowbar to a section of particle board. With what looked like almost no effort, he loosened a large section of floor and freed it. We peeled back the linoleum and moved the particle board out of the way.

  Just what I’d been hoping for. Hardwoods.

  “Look at that, Gracie Bear. A hidden treasure for you.”

  Biting my lip, I kept my eyes on the floor. I didn’t want him to see me tearing up again. But he’d called me Gracie Bear.

  I was so stupidly in love with this man.

  “That’s exactly what I was hoping to see.”

  “We’ll need to be careful, but I don’t see a lot of damage here. Hopefully the rest of it’s the same.”

  “Yeah, I hope so too.”

  We got to work, gently freeing sections of particle board from the hardwood underneath. We were getting through it pretty fast, and I almost wished it was harder. Maybe I could find something else for us to do when we finished. Working side-by-side with him felt like a dream. I didn’t want it to end.

  “Did I tell you I met Jack?” he asked.

  “My mom’s Jack?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No, you didn’t. How’d that go?”

  He tossed a chunk of flooring aside. “Awkward. I think I interrupted his shower.”

  I laughed. “Oops.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “He’s a great guy. He can come across as kind of serious, but he’s really a big sweetheart. He’s so good to my mom.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Definitely. She was hesitant about dating, and who can blame her after my father? But Jack was really patient. I think he just knew, and he was willing to wait for her to come around.”

  “How is he with Elijah?”

  “He’s great with him.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Mom wouldn’t have kept dating him otherwise. It was always important to her that we got along with Jack.”

  Asher straightened and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. “I saw Elijah, too. He came home while I was talking with Jack.”

  I could imagine how that had gone. “Let me guess. He had his face buried in a hoodie and he muttered three or four words you couldn’t understand.”

  “I don’t think he said anything.”

  “Yeah, he’s like that lately. Not just with Jack. He barely talks to anyone.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with him?”

  I shrugged. “According to him? Nothing. According to the school counselor? Puberty. According to the therapist mom took him to? A latent reaction to the introduction of a new parental figure.”

  “How long have they been married?”

  “A couple of years.”

  Asher’s brow furrowed. “You’re sure Jack is okay with him?”

  “If you’re wondering if Jack did something to hurt Elijah, there’s no way. Jack’s a good man. I think Eli’s just been through a lot, the poor kid. When he was seven, he found out he had four other siblings by the father who’d basically abandoned him. Then our dad went to prison, and he had a million questions about what happened and why. It was tough. Meanwhile, Levi and Logan moved out, then Gavin. He loves those guys, but they’re adults with their own lives, you know? They can’t exactly be his playmates. Add in a new stepdad, and that’s a lot for a little guy.”

  “Yeah, I guess it would be.”

  “Mom’s doing everything she can for him. But you can’t make someone open up, even when they’re eleven.”

  “No, you can’t. He was just so different when he was little.”

  “He was. Do you remember the dinosaur phase? Were you around for that?”

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “Yeah, I remember. He was like four and he knew all those long names.”

  “Yep. He was so cute.”

  We took a quick break to get some water, then got back to work. The rest of the flooring came up without too much trouble—for Asher, at least. He was so strong, he made it look easy. I needed a lot more leverage. But in the end, we got the room cleared out.

  I grabbed a broom and started sweeping up the dirt left behind while Asher inspected the hardwoods.

  “These are in good shape,” he said. “The nail holes can be patched. I think if you get these sanded down and refinished, they’ll look nice.”

  “I’m so glad. One thing I’ve learned, you never know what you’re going to find when you start pulling a house apart.”

  He paused in the back corner of the room and tilted his head, then crouched to get a closer look.

  “Something wrong over there?”

  “No.” He traced his fingers across the floor. “But there’s a seam here.”

  I leaned the broom against the wall. “A seam?”

  “Yeah, like someone cut into the floor.” He brushed more dust away. “It’s a rectangle.”

  I crouched next to him and ran my fingers along the line. “Are the boards loose, or is it nailed down?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  He found a flathead screwdriver and gently worked the end into one of the cracks. The whole section shifted. He worked his way down, gradually loosening the floorboards.

  With a soft crack, the section came loose. We lifted it and set it aside.

  Below the hardwood, someone had cut straight into the subfloor, leaving a hollow underneath. It was dark and dusty, but it wasn’t empty.

  “Oh my god, it’s like a hidden compartment beneath the floor.”

  His brow furrowed. “Yeah, it actually is. I thought it might just be access to the crawl space. But someone built this after the fact.”

  I reached down but Asher grasped my wrist. “What? There’s something down there.”

  He scowled at me. “Careful. I’ll get it.”

  I was about to ask what on earth he was worried about, but stopped myself. His concern was so sweet, I didn’t want to ruin it.

  He pulled out a dust-covered box. It wasn’t very big, not much larger than a shoebox. Cobwebs clung to it, but it seemed to be in good shape.

  I brushed off the top. “It’s wood. What do you think is in it?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  The hinges were stiff, but the lid opened. Inside was a cloth that might once have been white, but had faded to a dull cream color. I lifted it and set it aside.

  Beneath the cloth, we found a stack of yellowing envelopes. I picked up the top one, handling it gently. The paper felt brittle and the outside was blank. No name or address. For a second, I was disappointed. Were there just a bunch of old, empty envelopes in here
? Why would someone have put these beneath the floorboards?

  But I opened the envelope and found a folded piece of paper inside.

  “There’s a note.”

  “What does it say?”

  “Oh my god, I think it’s a love note. Listen to this: ‘My dearest E, I watched you from afar today, as I am inclined to do each time our paths cross. It is both a supreme delight and exquisite torture to see you, as I am unable to touch you. Our present situation frustrates, yet motivates me, for surely a solution can be found. My love for you is too great to set aside. I long for the time when we can be together in the bright light of day, as we are in the stolen moments we share under the cover of night. But fear not, my love, our time will come.’”

  “Wow. That’s romantic as hell.”

  “Isn’t it? I wonder who they were. It’s only addressed to E, but not signed. And there’s no date, either.”

  I carefully folded the note and placed it back in the envelope. The rest were similar. Love notes written to someone named E, all lamenting their inability to be together, promising that their love would be worth the wait. Two were shorter, hastily-scrawled requests to meet in secret.

  “I wish I knew who’d written these,” I said. “I’m dying to know what happened. Who were they? Were they ever able to be together? This is going to drive me crazy.”

  “I think there’s something else in here.” He lifted an object and slipped it from its cloth wrapping.

  It was a small hand-held mirror. The silver was dull and tarnished, but even without its original shine, it was beautiful. Detailed scrolling decorated the edges, and it had an intricate floral design on the back.

  “Is that an inscription?” I asked. He handed me the mirror and I brought it closer so I could read it. “Eliza Bailey. Oh my god, Asher, this belonged to a Bailey? I bet you’re related to her. Have you ever heard of her?”

  “No. But this looks old.”

  “It does look old. I bet she’s E. These notes must have been for her. But why would someone have hidden them?”

  “We could ask Gram, or one of my aunties. See if anyone knows who Eliza Bailey was.”

  “Good idea.” I set the mirror gently in the box. “Do you want to take it? It looks like it belongs in your family. And I’m…” I trailed off, not finishing that sentence. I’m not a Bailey.