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Authors: Stephanie Bond

Baby, Come Home (10 page)

BOOK: Baby, Come Home
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It was what she’d feared most about coming back here, that she would be swept up in the inexplicable pull of this place and these people. She tugged the mother-child pendant from her shirt and looked down at it, all the more meaningful because she had a child of her own.

A child without a village.

13

“W
hat’s in the bag?” Porter asked, loping up next to Kendall.

Kendall didn’t break stride but continued walking toward the General Store with a package under his arm. “None of your business.”

“I thought your mood would improve when Amy got here, but you’ve gotten downright morose.”

Kendall pursed his mouth. “So go find someone else to talk to.”

“But I want to talk to you.”

“Don’t you have a church to build?” Kendall asked pointedly.

Porter frowned. “You don’t have to get ugly. I just wanted to see how things are going on the bridge. Dr. Kudzu will be here in a few weeks and I want to make sure we’re in a position to start building that lab.”

“We’ll be ready. She’ll be gone before you know it.”

Porter squinted. “What?”

He hardened his jaw. “I mean, she’ll be
up
before you know it—the bridge, I mean.” He stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Go away, Porter.”

“Hey, talk to me, bro. Things not going well with Amy?”

“That would be no.”

“Then how did you get pink fuzz all over your shirt?”

Kendall swiped at the front of his shirt. “I ran into Rachel at breakfast this morning. She must have brushed up against me. Amy noticed, too. She thinks there’s something going on between me and Rachel.”

“Well, if that’s the only thing standing between you, tell Amy the truth—that you’re still carrying a torch for
her
.”

“It’s not the only thing standing between us. She has a boyfriend in Broadway, some guy named Tony. She can’t wait to leave here again and keeps thinking of ways to make the bridge project go faster.”

“Well, she’s not gone yet. And if she’s noticing you and Rachel, that’s a good thing.”

Kendall frowned. “How’s that?”

Porter clapped him on the back. “Because, you idget, it means she’s jealous. Just like you’re jealous over her boyfriend. And you can’t be jealous unless you have feelings for someone.”

Kendall brightened. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Porter said with a grin. “I’m a genius when it comes to women. I got Nikki, didn’t I?”

“You got her
attention
by writing on the water tower while she was on her way out of town,” Kendall added. “Whether you manage to keep her is yet to be seen.”

Porter frowned. “I’m going now.”

“Thought you might.” Kendall resumed walking, but he had a lighter step. He turned. “Hey, Porter.”

Porter looked up.

“Thanks.”

Kendall turned and kept going until he reached the General Store. He jogged up the steps onto the porch. Firewood was stacked in small cabled bundles, and children’s four-buckle galoshes were on sale. He opened the door and stepped back as two boys burst out the door, squirting each other with water guns. Caught in the cross fire, Kendall caught a wet shot in the face.

The boys froze. “Sorry, Mr. Armstrong.”

“Yeah, sorry. Don’t tell my mom, okay?”

He wiped his eyes, then gave them a chagrined smile. “Only if you promise to practice your aim, Justin.”

The boys grinned, then ran down the stairs, yelling and soaking each other.

Kendall gave a laugh, then walked into the store, inhaling the good scents of winter—peppermint and evergreen. Despite Rachel’s complaint that Molly wasn’t the right person to order supplies for the General Store, the place was actually pretty cozy. And while the merchandise fell a little short of Macy’s, the basics were covered: dry goods, cleaning supplies, underwear, outerwear, tools, toys, candy and occasional baked goodies if one was lucky enough to be there when the bread truck pulled up on Mondays and Thursdays.

The store was bustling with customers, always good to see. Monica Kinsey, who apparently used to work in a department store in Broadway, was a cheerful, helpful head salesclerk. From behind the long front counter, she smiled. “Hi, Kendall. What can I do for you?”

He set the wrapped package on the counter. “I broke the glass in this frame. Can you replace it?”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. Give me a couple of days?”

“Sure, just call me when it’s ready.”

“Okay.” She grinned. “The bread truck will be here tomorrow. Want me to set aside another chocolate cake for you?”

Kendall pursed his mouth. Maybe he could take it to Amy as a peace offering. She hadn’t had any the first time, but he knew she’d wanted it. Maybe it would wear down her defenses. Maybe she’d even let him feed it to her. He smiled at the fantasy. “Yes, I’ll take one, thank you.”

“You got it.”

The sound of raised voices caught his attention. To the right, Rachel Hutchins, still wearing that shedding pink angora sweater, and Dr. Jay Cross, dressed in his white lab coat, were having some sort of disagreement.

“All I’m saying is that a flu shot is the surest way of staying in tip-top shape this winter,” the doctor said in his precise, polite tone. Then he punched at his horn-rimmed glasses and looked her up and down. “Although admittedly you already look like you’re in tip-top shape.”

Kendall winced for the man.

Rachel peered down at him. “And all I’m saying is, I don’t care. I don’t do needles.”

“But we can achieve our goal orally.”

Rachel leaned down to be eye to eye with the shorter man. “Did you just say something dirty?”

“N-no,” he stammered. “I mean, I can give you the vaccine orally.” Then his Adam’s apple bobbed and he looked hopeful. “Do you want me to say something dirty?”

Rachel reached forward and fisted her hands in his lapels. “Listen, you prissy little—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Kendall said, walking over to intervene. “Everybody just take a deep breath.”

Rachel saw him and smiled. “Kendall, hello again.” She released the lapels of Dr. Cross’s jacket and gave them an ineffective pat. “Dr. Cross and I were just…talking, that’s all.” She twisted a lock of golden hair. “I should’ve asked you this morning at breakfast, but I was wondering if you’d like to come over tomorrow evening and take care of that little matter in my bedroom we discussed.”

Kendall worked hard to maintain his smile. After all, he was the one who’d put the hole in her wall. “Sure. I’ll bring a stud finder.”

She dimpled. “A stud finder seems redundant if you’re already in the room.”

He gave a nervous little laugh. “What time should I be there?”

She stepped closer and her sweater jumped all over his shirt. “Come at seven. I’ll make us dinner first.”

Dr. Cross and a few other shoppers were listening in. With an audience, he didn’t see a graceful way out. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow evening at seven.”

“Maybe you could bring that chocolate cake again?” Rachel suggested.

So much for the peace offering to Amy. “Will do.”

He escaped the store and strode away, running his hands over his shirt to remove any pink sweater fuzz. He slung the downy fibers from his fingers in frustration, already dreading tomorrow’s dinner with Rachel and feeling guilty about it at the same time. It wasn’t her fault that he would rather be with Amy.

Or that Amy would rather be with someone else.

He fisted his hands, feeling at loose ends. The presentation for the impending Department of Energy rep had been tweaked to the nth degree, and the metal parts for the construction bridge wouldn’t be delivered until tomorrow, but he felt antsy and needed to do something productive.

The cemetery plots could use a trim, he decided. And it was always a good place to go to be alone with his thoughts.

He walked to the garage where they kept work vehicles and hooked a four-wheeler to a small trailer that held a push lawn mower. Then he headed for Clover Ridge, happy for the punishing sting of the cool air on his face as he climbed.

He’d tried to live his life with purpose, first by joining the Air Force, then joining forces with his brothers to resurrect their hometown. So why did he suddenly feel as if he’d done everything wrong?

Because he’d underestimated his need for Amy. The day she’d said goodbye, she’d called it right—he
had
put everything before her. He thought they had plenty of time, that if he’d experienced the world, it would be enough for both of them. He’d thought she would wait for him. When she hadn’t, he convinced himself she didn’t really love him. In hindsight, though, he saw the impossible situation he’d put her in. She’d always hated Sweetness, yet it was where he’d expected her to stay until—

Kendall cursed under his breath. Until what? Until he was ready to commit to her?

No wonder she’d told him to leave her alone. No wonder she’d fled hundreds of miles away. No wonder she hadn’t wanted to come back here, and was eager to leave again as soon as she could.

He topped the ridge and rode past his family’s homestead, now Porter’s land. He and Marcus had happily given it to him and the logs stacked nearby showed his intent to have a home with Nikki, even if he wasn’t in a hurry to build that church.

He kept going, dodging potholes and fallen branches, until he reached the cemetery where his father and grandparents were buried, where his mother would be buried next to their father, and where he and his brothers would be laid to rest when their time came. When he pulled up to the gate, he spotted Molly’s telltale camouflage-painted ATV and for a selfish moment, he was disappointed he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts after all.

Then the gate opened and he saw Amy emerge, and his heart tripped double-time.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.” He climbed off the four-wheeler and walked toward her. She’d been crying—visiting her parents’ graves, no doubt. He wanted to put his arms around her, but forced himself not to reach for her.

“You’ve been tending my family’s graves, haven’t you?”

He’d done it out of respect for her, but now realized that she might find it presumptuous, or invasive. “I meant no harm.”

And suddenly she was in his arms. After years of drawing on memories of how she’d once felt pressed up against him, of fantasizing how she might feel today, he was staggered by the jolt to his system. She was softer, more womanly. He tightened his arms around her waist and buried his face in her hair. She smelled like the sun and wind, and everything good. When she raised her face to his, he lingered only a second to look into her hazel eyes before lowering his mouth to hers for a joyous reunion.

He’d meant the kiss to be slow and sweet and poignant, but as soon as her tongue touched his, he lost control and hungrily ground her mouth against his. In the back of his mind, he was afraid he’d never get the chance to kiss her again, and wanted to make up for lost time, and any time in the future that she might deny him. He groaned into her mouth and gathered her closer, desperate to reconnect with her.

Then as suddenly as she was in his arms, she broke free.

“I’m sorry,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand as if she wanted to wipe away the kiss. “I can’t do this.”

He jammed his hand into his hair. “Amy—”

“No, Kendall,” she said, chopping her hand in the air. “I can’t do this, and I won’t do this.” She climbed on the ATV and started the engine, then gave him one last look before driving away.

14

A
my sat in her SUV at the future site of the construction bridge and stretched high to yawn loudly. That impulsive kiss had kept her up all night. She’d tossed and turned in her bed, replaying it in her head over and over, had relived every touch, every nuance, trying to convince herself it had meant nothing to her more than the thank-you she’d meant it to be.

Who are you kidding? You came undone.

And falling for Kendall again would mean being tied to this place, not to mention tying her son to this place.

And there was still the matter of
telling
Kendall he had a son.

She closed her eyes and groaned. Things were complicated enough without getting her heart mired in the middle. She had to keep her head about her for everyone’s sake until the bridge was complete. Meanwhile, she suspected the kiss had meant nothing to Kendall other than curiosity and proximity.

After all, her pink sweaters weren’t as generous as Rachel Hutchins’s.

Amy lifted her hand to her cheek. His beard and mustache had been soft and tingly against her skin. She touched her lips. And his mouth…she’d forgotten how passionate he could be, how he could ignite her entire body with a flick of his tongue and a squeeze.

Other men had kissed her since Kendall, but none had ever roused her like he had, and when they’d pressed for more, she’d always shied away. She hadn’t wanted to confuse Tony by having strange men around, and it was hard not to feel like she was cheating on Kendall, considering she saw his face every time she looked at Tony. Besides, she’d had too many other things on her plate to be concerned about dating. Tony, school and work had consumed her the way that loving Kendall had once consumed her.

Tony.
Her heart pinged. He’d called her last night, as promised, but had grunted his way through the conversation before abruptly saying goodbye and hanging up. She knew moodiness was part of adolescence, but it was difficult to tolerate. She felt as if her sweet boy was slipping through her fingers.

And it gave her renewed appreciation for the handful she’d been for her aunt Heddy.

Amy sat forward when she saw a work truck heading toward her. Kendall was driving. She assumed that, like her, he’d deemed it too cold this morning to ride an ATV to the site. Her heart began to pound, but she tried to act nonchalant when he pulled in beside her so their driver’s-side doors were next to each other. He rolled down his window and she buzzed hers down.

“Good morning,” he said, his tone friendly enough. He appeared well rested.

“Good morning,” she offered, wondering if he could tell by the circles under her eyes that she hadn’t slept at all.

“You didn’t have to be here for this,” he said. “It’s a metal bridge in a box—my men and I can handle it.”

She shrugged. “I figured since it was my idea, I should be here to help any way I can.”

His mouth tightened, obviously still not sold on the merits of erecting a construction bridge. “Coffee?” he offered, holding up his thermos.

“If you have enough.” She’d already drained the cup she’d brought with her.

“I do,” he said so formally that it made her think of how solemnly he might say those words in a wedding ceremony if he ever found someone he wanted to commit to. Their gazes caught for a moment as if he, too, realized what he’d said. Then he handed a steaming cup across the space between them.

“Thanks,” she murmured, shivering in the cold.

“No use in having the windows down. I’ll park and join you.” He didn’t wait for her to respond, just pulled away a distance, then got out to walk back toward her SUV.

She glanced around, scrambling to rid the passenger seat of candy bar wrappers before he opened the door and climbed in.

“Nice ride,” he said, looking around. “Four-wheel drive?”

Amy nodded. “It’s kind of necessary in Michigan.”

“Right.”

She took a drink of coffee, then her gaze landed on a sunglasses case in the console monogrammed with “Tony.” Kendall noticed it at the same time and a frown furrowed his brow.

To distract him, she lunged forward to look at the gray sky. “Looks like we might have some rain rolling in later.”

He sipped his coffee and nodded. “The forecast for tomorrow is sleet and freezing rain.”

“I noticed that. But a warm front is coming through afterward so hopefully we’ll be able to make up for any lost time.”

He nodded to two truckloads of workers pulling in. “I’ll push to get as much out of the daylight today as we can.” Kendall waved at the men, then checked his watch. “The driver is always punctual. He should be here any minute.”

“I can’t imagine it would be easy pulling a cumbersome load like bridge parts over these winding roads.”

“Nothing in or about this town has ever been easy.”

“That’s an understatement,” she said. “I noticed when I was driving around yesterday how grown up the side roads are. I realize the town limits are part of the federal experiment, but do you and your brothers own the outlying land?”

“No. It belongs to the original deed holders, as long as they maintain property taxes.”

“Do you expect all those people to return?”

“We hope so. A few already have. But most are wary about rebuilding before we meet the deadline.”

“The federal deadline?”

“Right. There are checkpoints we have to meet along the way, the most important of which is the two-year mark—that’s when we’ll know if we get more funding to keep going, or if the land in the city limits will be relinquished back to the government.”

“What will you do if that happens?”

“It won’t,” he said with a confidence that would’ve been laughable coming out of someone else’s mouth. “I know we have a lot of work left to do, but it’ll all come together. It has to. People are counting on us.”

Amy’s heart squeezed. Kendall had always been a leader, a rock to so many people—the first person asked to spearhead any effort, and the first to respond in a crisis. He was good at bringing people together. Unfortunately, when the two of them were together, she’d always felt as if she took a backseat to his causes.

“I suggested we have a homecoming weekend event this summer,” he said, confirming her reflections. “Invite anyone who ever lived in Sweetness to come home to celebrate…and hopefully stay.”

“That sounds nice,” she lied. In truth, it sounded claustrophobic.

“Meanwhile, we can use all the engineers around here we can get. The pay is lousy, but the food—” He stopped and scratched his head. “No, wait, the food is lousy, too.”

She laughed. “You’re going to have to work on your sales pitch.”

“I’m practicing for our next checkpoint visit from a Department of Energy rep. He should be here any day now.”

“What’s the purpose of the meeting?”

“To make sure we’re on track, and establish priorities for the next six months. It would help if I could bring him around to talk to you about the covered bridge.”

“Okay, sure.”

“And if you could play up the fact that you used to live here and what the bridge meant to you, that might score us some points.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said drily.

He looked sheepish. “Sorry if I sound pushy, but sometimes these inspections are so subjective, every little bit helps.” He frowned suddenly, then reached beneath his hip and pulled out a squashed chocolate bar.

Amy’s cheeks went hot. “Sorry.”

“No trouble,” he said easily, then laid it on the console next to the sunglass case. He nodded to the case. “Is Tony the same guy who gave you the ring you were wearing the other night?”

He’d remembered her comment that “her guy” had given her the topaz ring. Just hearing him say his son’s name made her stomach flip. “That’s right,” she said carefully, thinking maybe she should just get it over with and tell him. She wet her lips. “Kendall—”

The roaring sound of a big truck engine sounded, and the cab of an eighteen-wheeler suddenly came into view.

“Right on time,” Kendall said, opening the door. Then he stopped. “You were saying?”

“It can wait,” she said, frustrated and relieved at the same time.

The next couple of hours she didn’t have time to think about kisses and near-misses as the metal bridge parts were unloaded and assembly of the construction bridge immediately began. A worker drove a log truck down to park next to the eighteen-wheeler and Kendall used a tractor boom to transfer the enormous yellow poplar logs that would be used for cutting the covered bridge parts to the big rig’s trailer. When all was secure, the driver took the materials list and climbed back into his truck for the return trip down the mountain.

Amy’s heart pounded with excitement. The next time they saw the poplar, it would be sawed and planed into steadfast wooden bridge parts.

“There goes our bridge,” she said to Kendall, and their gazes locked. She’d forgotten how blue his eyes got on cloudy days. Then she caught herself. “I don’t mean ‘our’ bridge, I mean…the town’s bridge.”

He looked as if he wanted to say something, but was distracted by the appearance of another vehicle, a white extended-cab pickup with a Department of Energy insignia on the side.

“Looks like this is my guy,” he murmured, then waved to flag down the driver.

The truck pulled in near Kendall and Amy and the window came down. A tanned man with dark blond hair stuck his head out. “Hello, I’m Dale Richardson, D.O.E. I’m looking for someone named Armstrong.”

Amy squinted and stepped forward. “Dale? Dale, it’s me—Amy Bradshaw.”

Recognition dawned on his face. “Amy Bradshaw. Long time no see.”

Dale had been one of those men who had tried unsuccessfully to interest her in more than kissing. “I’d heard you were working in D.C.,” she said.

“I was for a while, but I transferred to the Atlanta office last year. What are you doing in this neck of the woods?”

“I’m here to build a covered bridge.”

“You don’t say? Is Tony with you?”

Amy’s heart stuttered—she’d forgotten that Dale had met Tony briefly. “Uh…no.” She turned to Kendall, who seemed to be paying close attention to the exchange. “Dale, meet Kendall Armstrong.”

Kendall walked forward and Dale stuck out his hand. “I think you’re the man I’m looking for. I have a few things on my list to check off.”

Kendall shook the man’s hand. “My brothers and I have been expecting you. I’m driving that black truck. Follow me up to the construction office and we’ll get started.”

Kendall turned to Amy. “I’ll send Porter down to oversee the men.”

“I’ve got it covered,” she said. “I’ll call Porter if I need anything.”

He looked as if he didn’t want to leave, but nodded. “Okay. See you later.”

Amy made small talk with Dale until Kendall climbed into the truck, then said, “Dale, this might sound strange, but I’m actually from this town. No one here knows about Tony and I’d like to keep it that way.”

He looked anguished. “I’m sorry for bringing up something personal.”

“Don’t worry about it. But please don’t mention it again in front of anyone.”

“No problem.” He looked at the black truck, then back to her. “I remember what Tony looks like. That man is his father, isn’t he?”

She pressed her lips together. “Please don’t say anything.”

“I would never betray a confidence,” he said.

She believed him. “Thank you.” Dale was a good guy, just…not Kendall. She realized in that moment how attached she was getting to Kendall. Again. Her heart crimped. It had been a disaster the first time around, and had even more potential of ending worse this time.

Dale grinned. “Hey. I forgot to tell you…I’m engaged.”

She grinned back. “Good for you. When’s the big day?”

He blanched. “Well, we haven’t exactly gotten that far yet.”

She laughed. “How long will you be here?”

“Just today. But maybe we can have dinner? I’m not sure what the restaurants are like around here, though.”

Amy’s mind raced. She was having dinner with Nikki and Porter, but Nikki had said she was making plenty. “Join me and my friend Nikki and her boyfriend, Porter, for dinner at the boardinghouse in the middle of town. Nikki is cooking. Porter is Kendall’s brother—you’ll probably meet him later.”

“Sounds good. See you later.” He waved, then pulled away to follow Kendall.

Amy waved, then exhaled loudly. That was close…again. What were the chances that she’d run into someone here who knew her and knew about Tony? Her friend Nikki didn’t even know about Tony.

How was it that the world seemed smaller in Sweetness?

BOOK: Baby, Come Home
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