She's Expecting. Barbara McMahon
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time.”
“Won’t be a next time,” Mandy muttered, already delving into the stack of rolled-up blueprints.
She continued to sort and stack the various documents on her desk, almost holding her breath until the two men left. Then with a whoosh, she let it out, leaning back in her chair and gazing around her in dismay.
What had she so recklessly done? She’d be lucky to find her way around the office by Friday, much less prove to be invaluable to a man whose mind was made up that she was expendable.
She needed the money. How foolish to say they needn’t pay her. Her primary reason for accepting a job so far away from everything she knew was the added pay. She didn’t have much in savings, though she’d been scrimping to augment what she had ever since she’d discovered she was pregnant. Ever since she’d learned Marc wanted nothing further to do with her or their child.
Something about Jackson Witt got her back up and gave her a new focus. She wanted him to turn around and admit she was suitable for the job. It was personal now.
The baby kicked and Mandy idly rubbed her stomach. “Buckle up, babykins, we’re in for a bumpy ride!”
The phone rang and Mandy answered it. Her job had begun in earnest.
By the time Mandy’s stomach had growled for the third time, she was ready to call it a day. Glancing out the window, she noticed all was quiet on the job site. The noise from the heavy machinery had faded long ago. The sound of hammers ringing and the buzz of the saws had ended without her noticing.
She surveyed her desk with quiet satisfaction. She’d gone through everything and sorted it into piles. She had fielded calls, settled one problem with a vendor and been the target of curious construction workers who had found one dumb excuse after another to stop into the office during the afternoon.
Jeff had been there most of the time. She’d done her best to ignore the visitors, claiming she hadn’t a clue yet where things were when they asked, and suggesting they talk to Jackson. She’d love to know if any had followed through. She could just imagine what Jackson Witt would have said to any man who mentioned he’d talked with her!
Though she hoped none were crazy enough to ask him. She didn’t want anyone giving credence to his prediction about her being a distraction.
Mandy walked outside, locking the door behind her. The fresh air was pleasant, though cool. The sun had already moved behind the ridge, bathing the valley in deep shadows.
When she drew near her trailer, her relief was almost tangible. She was on her own until eight the next morning.
The door of the first trailer opened and Jackson stepped out. His eyes narrowed as he saw her, but he said nothing, walking on down the beaten path toward the lake as if she hadn’t been there.
She tossed her head. She didn’t care. He could be as rude as he liked when they weren’t working. It was only for two months and she could stand anything for that long.
Tonight she’d unpack, take a soothing bath and fix something light for dinner. Then it was bed for her! She’d read until she fell asleep. It had been a long day.
Dammit, it was bad enough having Mandy Parkerson work here, but Jeff had to make it convenient for her to stay on-site. The whole setup was explosive. Jackson knew trouble in the making. He only hoped he could stave it off until she left on Friday.
Jackson headed for the lake, and the quiet spot he liked to find at the end of the day.
One of the trailers had lights on inside. It wasn’t dark, but the sun had already slipped behind the high peaks to the west. Twilight fell early in the high country in late September.
He liked this time of day. He always had. He and his late wife, Sara.
As he walked to the lake’s edge, he heard the drone of television coming from a couple of trailers, ribald conversation from another. A small group of guys sat in folding chairs near one camper, swapping stories. When Jackson reached the lake, he nodded to a couple of men trying their hand at fishing.
They were building a luxury resort for the Windhaven Corporation in the middle of the Colorado wilderness. The lake was one of the major attractions. The proximity to cross-country ski resorts and hunting and fishing were other aspects the corporation planned to highlight. As well as a state - of - the - art spa to attract women.
For a place to relax, it wouldn’t be beat. Jackson knew the resort would charge guests an arm and a leg, and visitors would happily pay for the remote luxury and pristine setting.
He’d be long gone by then. To another site, another job. Another couple of years in a remote location. Getting through life one day at a time.
He walked along the edge of the lake, stopping at a tree that had fallen partially into the water. Placing a foot on the trunk, he rested his elbow against his knee and took a swig of the cold soft drink he’d carried. He was alone and liked it that way.
Sara would have loved this place, he thought for the hundredth time.
The familiar ache took hold. He always missed her, but especially at twilight. They’d made it a tradition to have a quiet drink together, just the two of them, before dinner every evening. Even after Sammy had come along, it had been their special time to talk over their respective days, and to be with each other. To shut out the rest of the world and draw their own world around them.
He gripped the can tightly. The ache would get worse as the night wore on. It had been three years, but it could have been three minutes or three decades. With his wife gone it was like a part of himself had been amputated. Which it had—the best part of him.
He could close his eyes and see her—tall and slim with dark eyes and sleek dark hair that cupped her head. She’d been almost as tall as he was when she’d worn high heels. They’d know each other since second grade. Their likes had meshed; their thoughts had run parallel. Their dreams had been the same.
God, the ache was impossible. Some days he thought he couldn’t make it without her. Her and Sammy.
If he closed his eyes, he could see her walking toward him. Hear her sweet voice—
“Mr. Witt, there’s a problem with my water. I can’t find Jeff. Can you fix it?”
Jackson opened his eyes and turned. Instead of Sara’s dark beauty, he confronted the petite blonde Jeff had hired. The petite, pregnant blonde who barely came up to his shoulder.
Irritation rose. What did she want now? If she thought he planned to baby-sit her until Friday, she had another thought coming. He still didn’t know why he’d given her until Friday. She should have headed back to Julian already.
Chapter Two
“What do you want?”
“Someone to fix the water in my trailer. I knocked on Jeff’s door. He said he has the trailer next door to mine, but he’s not there. And I don’t know anyone else to ask. I certainly don’t want you to think I was flirting with someone if I asked for assistance,” Mandy said.
Jackson took another swallow of the soda, his cherished quiet shattered. He scanned her from head to toe, irritated anew at the sight of her. The asperity in her voice was noticeable. He straightened. She was right; if there was a problem, he or Jeff should fix it. No sense opening a crack in a door for any of the men to think it was an invitation.
“What’s wrong with the water?”
“I can’t get any hot. It comes out cold from both faucets. There’s a hot-water heater, but I don’t know a thing about it and don’t know if it’s working properly.”
“Probably needs a new propane tank hooked up.”
She stared at him. Her eyes were darker in the twilight—not deep brown as Sara’s had been, but navy blue.
Navy blue eyes? It had to be lack of light, or altitude sickness.