Loving The Country Boy (Barrett's Mill Book 4) (8 page)

Paige came over and rested her arms across the window ledge. The gesture made Tess think of Heath, and she firmly put the image of him out of her mind. Considering the mess her personal life was currently in, she knew the less she thought about the friendly mechanic, the better.

“Bruce wanted to build a replica of the mill in the town square, as part of a new playground.”

“Well, that’s not so crazy.”

“Complete with a creek and working waterwheel,” Paige went on.

Tess glanced down the street and then back to the chatty young woman. “The creek doesn’t run through town.”

“Exactly. Grandpa didn’t have a problem with the scaled-down sawmill, but he thought it was nuts to dig out a channel that would have to constantly be supplied with water when God laid down a perfectly good creek a couple miles away.”

Tess understood that, but she couldn’t help thinking the idea had merit. “How much did Bruce think something like that would cost?”

“More than we can spare right now. With the economy the way it is, most folks around here are just getting by, and the town funds shrink a little more every year. We’ve got all we can do to keep up the roads and sidewalks, and lately even those projects are getting delayed.”

Paige couldn’t be more than twenty-five, Tess estimated. Her grasp of local issues and her eloquent way of stating them was impressive, to say the least. “It sounds to me like you could run for office yourself.”

“Don’t think I haven’t considered it. But I’m too young—” holding up two fingers, she ticked off one “—and a woman, besides.” She ticked off the other. “It’ll never happen.”

One thing LA and Barrett’s Mill had in common, Tess groused. No matter how open-minded they claimed to be, too often people still clung to the traditional ways of doing things. That meant young women like Paige and her, with drive and fresh ideas, got left on the sidelines while others plodded along the same, unimaginative path they always had. And where did that get you? Absolutely nowhere.

“Someday, you’ll make it happen,” she predicted, pleased when her new friend smiled brightly. “In the meantime, just make the best scarecrow you can. That’s the only way you’re going to beat us.”

Paige laughed. “In your dreams, Cali girl. I’ve been doing this since I was five, and you’re the greenest greenhorn in town. You and your ratty straw man don’t stand a chance.”

“You never know,” Tess shot back with a grin. “I might come up with something that knocks everyone’s socks off.”

Clearly unfazed, Paige grinned back. “I guess we’ll know soon enough. If you’re still interested, the town meeting is always the last Thursday of the month at seven. We meet in the fellowship hall at the Crossroads Church, and if you want a seat, you should get there about fifteen minutes early.”

Tess couldn’t believe that was actually necessary, but she didn’t want to question it and create the impression that she was a rude outsider. “Thanks. If I finish work in time, I’ll come check it out.”

“Fabulous. It’d be nice to have another woman there under the age of sixty. Know what I mean?”

Tess responded with a smile and waved as she pulled out of the zone designated for short-term parking. The sun was rising in the eastern sky, and she admired the view over the tops of the centuries-old trees that stood alongside Main Street like guardians watching over the town. Hazy purple merged with pink and gold, spreading across the horizon in layered colors softened by mist rolling up out of the valley that surrounded her.

When she’d been here a month ago, the fields and forests had seemed to merge together in a lush, deep green that went on forever. Now that color was giving way to a range of golds and reds like nothing she’d ever seen in California. From vivid to pale, some of them were such a unique hue she couldn’t identify them except to say that they were incredible.

Just one more thing to appreciate here, she thought, carefully slowing and double-checking for other cars before turning onto Mill Road. During her commute the last few days, she hadn’t come across a single car. Because of that, she found it odd that she’d managed to literally run into Heath that first morning. If Tess hadn’t known better, she would have suspected her grandmother of somehow arranging their dramatic meeting. Then again, she thought with a smile, if anyone was capable of it, it would be Gram.

When she reached the end of the lane, she was surprised to find Heath’s mini–monster truck parked next to half a dozen less flashy pickups. As she got out, Boyd leaped from the truck and dashed off in pursuit of something rustling in the nearby hedgerow. What would it be like, she wondered, to be able to run off on a whim like that? While she was a lifelong city girl, the more time she spent out in the woods, the more she wanted to explore the area around the mill and discover what made it so special that her cousins were fighting to keep it in the family.

“Something wrong?”

Hearing Heath’s voice behind her, she turned to find him standing on the porch, wiping grease from his hands. It seemed to be a frequent thing for him, and she knew that image of him would stay with her long after she left town. Where she came from, his faded blue T-shirt and well-loved jeans would have been considered stylish and priced accordingly. But she knew his had been weathered by plenty of tough wear and washing, which suited his hands-on lifestyle perfectly.

Despite her promise to focus solely on righting herself while she was in Barrett’s Mill, she couldn’t deny that she’d grown fond of the rugged mechanic with the generous heart. Smiling, she said, “I was just wishing I could follow Boyd and find out what’s so fascinating out there.”

“Why can’t you?”

“First of all, I’ve got breakfast for the crew.” She opened the passenger door and lifted out the stack of goodies she’d bought in town. “And after that, I really need to figure out how those spreadsheets of Chelsea’s work. If I get too far behind, I’ll never catch up.”

As she made her way up the steps, Heath opened the door for her and chuckled. “Well, I know food’s important, but it seems to me like the computer stuff could wait half an hour.”

“Everyone’s working so hard, I’d hate to make it look like I’m slacking off,” she confided quietly.

Even though the sliding door was closed, she could still hear the one functioning saw going, and behind it the steady grinding noise of the lathe. She’d seen it in motion, but it still amazed her that anyone could use such a basic piece of equipment to turn a rectangular piece of wood into a tapered table leg or a spindle for the back of one of their handcrafted rocking chairs. In her world, when you wanted furniture, you went to a store and bought what you needed without much thought for how it came to be made.

Here, she’d seen old-fashioned craftsmanship that blew factory-made pieces out of the water. If only more people knew about the fine pieces they produced here, she mused, Barrett’s Mill Furniture would be solidly in the black for years to come. And, if she could devise a strategy for making that happen, she’d have the satisfaction of knowing she’d made a valuable contribution to the future of her family and many others, besides.

“Uh-oh,” Heath commented with another chuckle. “That’s a troublemaker look if ever I saw one. What’s going through that head of yours?”

“Just cogitating.”

For some reason, he groaned. “Oh, man, you’ve been talking to Paige Donaldson, haven’t you?”

“You make that sound like it’s a bad thing,” Tess shot back with a glare. “She and I really hit it off, and I think she’s fabulous.”

“That’s not a surprise.” Shaking his head with honest male bewilderment, he went on. “You’re like two peas in a pod. Easy on the eyes and tough on the nerves.”

No one had ever spoken to her that way. Oh, she’d gotten plenty of backhanded compliments over the years, but none had come with the crooked grin she was getting from him now. This country boy had a knack for throwing her off balance, and it didn’t even seem like he had to try all that hard. Instinct told her that meant something, but she wasn’t about to ponder it now.

“Whatever.” Setting out the bakery boxes she’d brought, she punched the buttons to start the dual coffeemaker and spun to leave. She was wearing her lowest heels, but the pad got caught in the crack between two old floorboards, and she stumbled. Before she knew what was happening, she found herself in Heath’s arms. Again.

“This feels familiar,” he teased, grasping her shoulders to steady her before he stepped away. “You really need to get some more practical shoes.”

Normally, the slip and unwanted advice would have only soured her mood further. But to her astonishment, she found herself laughing instead. “Yeah, I know. Maybe Jenna will help me pick out some new clothes at the mall.”

“You want fashion help from Mrs. Overalls and Sneakers?”

“Good point.” Seeing an opportunity to needle him, she said, “Paige dresses well. It’d be fun to shop with her and get to know her better.”

“Thanks for the warning,” he grumbled as he turned to go.

“Heath?” When he looked back, she smiled. “Thanks for catching me.”

“Anytime, magpie.”

He flashed her the kind of grin that had probably weakened a few knees over the years and headed back to the production area. Because she simply couldn’t help it, Tess allowed herself a moment to admire him as he strolled away. He moved with a fluid power born of the quiet confidence he carried with him everywhere he went. It struck her that his strength of character came from meeting challenges head-on and winning. His self-assuredness wasn’t an act, something he projected with the intent of impressing anyone. That was simply who he was, and she suspected he’d never even considered trying to be anyone else.

One day Tess wanted to feel that kind of poise herself.

Now that she’d put the dizzying orbit of Avery’s social circle behind her, she realized it had taken a lot from her and given nothing in return. She’d exhausted herself trying to fit into that group, only to find that in the end she didn’t have what it took.

By contrast, the moment she’d arrived in Barrett’s Mill for Scott and Jenna’s wedding, she’d felt more welcome than she had in her entire life. That was why she’d come back, she recognized as she walked across the lobby to boot up her computer and get started. As good as she felt about helping her family during a difficult time, they were doing even more for her. They treated her with respect, accepting her for who she was rather than attempting to mold her into something else entirely. Through their generosity they’d given her something no one could buy, no matter how much money they had.

Hope.

* * *

Heath was getting a real education in turn-of-the-century technology. The hands-on kind, he added silently while he strained to loosen what was left of a bolt that had busted off in place and was preventing him from replacing what looked like a hand-forged metal strut. Paul’s mind was understandably elsewhere these days, so Heath had volunteered to do a thorough inspection of the antiquated machinery that powered the waterwheel. Within ten seconds, he’d keyed in on a section that wobbled so much, he was afraid it would fly off any day now.

Dangling from the underside of the mill house was tough on his still-mending shoulder, and he rubbed it to ease the strain. When that didn’t help, he leaned back against the framing timber, closing his eyes while he let the tight muscles relax.

“Are you okay?”

He opened his eyes to find Tess staring down at him, a bottle of water in one hand and an anxious look on her face. He regretted the worry clouding those beautiful eyes, and he smiled to ease her concern. “Just taking a break.”

She tilted her head as if she didn’t quite believe that but to his surprise, she didn’t call him on it. “You don’t look very comfortable hanging that way.”

“It’s not an easy position to get in. If I take a break, I have to climb down again, and I’m not keen on doing it more than once. I’ll be done soon enough. I think,” he added wryly.

“I thought you might be thirsty.”

After their earlier exchange, her thoughtful gesture was a pleasant surprise. This woman had more twists and turns than a mountain road, and he caught himself wondering how many more there might be. Since that was something he had no intention of finding out, he pushed the question aside. “I am, thanks. Toss it down and I’ll catch it.”

Unfortunately, her throw went astray, and he had to dart his bad arm out to keep the bottle from falling into the creek below. Wincing, he let out an unconscious grunt that made her gasp.

“Oh, Heath, I’m sorry! I’ll go get Scott.”

“No!” The whip in his voice stopped her cold, and he regretted his harsh reaction to her offer. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m fine, just a little sore from hanging under here like this.”

“You’re not fine,” she informed him primly. “You can lie to me, but you should be honest with yourself.”

“That sounds familiar,” he joked.

“You should take your own advice. You should also come up here and have something to eat. It’s past lunchtime.”

Squinting up at her, he grinned. “You’re starting to sound like your grandmother.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she replied, beaming down at him. “Now, get up here. I’m sure one of the boys will help you finish that up later.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

While Heath pulled himself up and clambered over the railing, he noticed she didn’t turn and go back inside but waited for him on the walkway. Watching over him protectively, she reached out to steady him as he cautiously lowered himself down to the weathered planks. Small as she was, there wasn’t much she could’ve done for him if he lost his balance, but he appreciated her thoughtful gesture all the same.

“Safe and sound,” he assured her, coiling his well-used rappelling gear into a neat bundle he slung over his right shoulder. The left one was still barking, and he decided to give the strenuous stuff a rest for now.

“You looked right at home down there,” she commented as they made their way into the mill house. “Did you used to do a lot of that kind of thing?”

“Yeah. That was one of the skills that got me my oil rig job.” The job that had nearly cost him his life, he recalled grimly. Shoving the uncharacteristic negativity back where it belonged, he tapped into some more pleasant memories. “On the weekends a bunch of us would go into the mountains to camp and go climbing. It was tough, but the views from the top of those peaks made it all worthwhile.”