Her Very Own Family. Trish Milburn
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Nelson looked at his son as if the suggestion made no sense. “I’m in the middle of a job here.”
“I’m sure Ms. York can spare you for a few days,” Brady said.
“Certainly,” she said with forced brightness as she turned to face them. “Spend some time with Brady.”
“I can spend time with Brady here,” Nelson said. “I’ve got to get that window area finished then start work on the tables. And with one more set of experienced hands, the work will go faster.”
Brady shifted his stance like he wanted to argue, but he kept quiet. She’d give just about anything to peek inside his brain for two minutes.
“Seriously, I’m fine,” she said to Nelson. “You’ve been a dear so far, but—”
Nelson shook his head and waved off her objection. “No. Once I start something, I finish it. I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, he patted her on the shoulder and headed outside, leaving her and Brady to stare after him.
She didn’t meet Brady’s eyes, but she felt his gaze on her.
“Thanks for dinner,” he said. “Guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
She uttered a “good night” and watched as he disappeared out the door, too.
So he was coming back with his dad. Fantastic, an entire day, maybe days, of him watching, suspecting. Oh, yeah, this was going to be all kinds of fun.
WHEN BRADY WALKED into the house, his dad wandered out of the kitchen holding a glass of milk.
“Care to tell me what that was all about?” his dad asked.
“What?”
“How you acted with Audrey. You were nearly rude.”
“I wasn’t rude.”
“You know I’ve been helping her out, and right in front of her you say you want me to go fishing instead.”
“I thought it’d be nice, that’s all.”
Nelson raised one eyebrow. “You do remember I’ve been catching you in lies since you were able to talk, right?”
“It’s nothing, okay? I was just surprised you’d been spending so much time with her and hadn’t mentioned it.” Brady tossed his bag on the couch.
“I’m thankful she’s given me something to do. It’s not like I’m dating the girl. She’s young enough to be my daughter.”
Brady didn’t respond, didn’t know how.
His dad caught his eye just as he took a drink of his milk. Nelson lowered the glass. “That’s what you thought, isn’t it? That I’d taken up with someone already?”
Brady waved away the accusation. “No, of course not.” The lie gnawed at his gut.
Anger replaced the sadness in his dad’s eyes. “Don’t you ever doubt how much I loved your mother. She was my one and only.”
Brady shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “I know that, Dad.”
“Well, if you know that, why the suspicion?”
“It’s not your actions I’m worried about.”
“What, you think a pretty young girl like Audrey would be after an old codger like me?” He gave Brady a raised-eyebrow look that said the very idea was the height of unlikely.
“You have a TV. You know it happens. Young women hooking up with older men for their money.”
His dad actually snorted, the closest thing to a laugh Brady had heard from him in a long time, since before his mom’s stroke.
“I’m old, not stupid.”
“What do you really know about her, anyway?”
“I know she moved here from Nashville because she wanted to get out of the city. That she’s excited about this project, is enthusiastic, a very hard worker, is addicted to the Food Network and is missing it. And she was a friend to an old man when he needed one.” His dad shook his head. “I even joked with her that I was going to try to fix the two of you up. Looks like she was right.”
Brady tilted his head slightly. “About what?”
“That it’s a bad idea.” With that, Nelson sat his empty glass on the end of the kitchen counter and headed down the hallway toward his bedroom.
Brady stood in the middle of the living room, wondering how he’d managed to handle this whole situation so badly. All he wanted to do was make sure his father was okay, that he wasn’t duped. But somehow he’d turned into the bad guy. Just great. That should make the next two weeks freaking wonderful.
AFTER YET ANOTHER dreadful night of sleep, Audrey was on the steep, A-shaped roof, nailing down new pieces of silver tin roofing by six the next morning. The gentle breeze in the surrounding forest and the trickling of the creek next to the mill should have soothed her, but even they couldn’t smooth her ragged edges. By the time Nelson and Brady showed up, her mood still hadn’t improved.
“Lord, girl, what are you doing up there?” Nelson asked as he looked at her with his eyes shaded by his hand.
“Roofing. I’ve got to get this done before the electrician shows up in case it rains.”
“How in the world do you know how to roof a building?”
She hesitated as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. How to answer? “I volunteered for Habitat for Humanity after Katrina.” True. No need to mention the missionary trips to developing countries when she’d helped build homes for the poorest of the poor.
Nelson pointed toward where she kneeled. “Brady, get up there and help her.”
“No, really, I’m fine.” The last thing she needed while perched on a roof was Mr. I’m Watching You by her side, no matter how good-looking he was.
As if to spite her determination to work alone, however, she moved her foot and accidentally sent her hammer sliding down and off the edge of the roof onto the ground below. She bit down on the expletive, not wanting to utter it in front of Nelson.
She glanced at Brady to determine his reaction. His face was hidden from her, however, as he bent to retrieve the hammer. Nelson shook his head as he headed indoors.
Audrey directed her gaze at the tree canopy above and took a few deep breaths, told herself that everything would be fine. All she needed to do was let Brady get to know her a little so the suspicion she’d seen in his eyes the day before disappeared. Maybe it was just a small-town suspicion of newcomers and nothing more. She’d have to overcome that to make her café successful, so she might as well start tackling it now.
Brady appeared at the top of the ladder, hammer in hand.
“Thank you,” she said as he handed it to her.
Without asking, he stepped onto the roof and slid one piece of tin after another into place while she hammered.
“I can do that for a while if you like,” he offered.
“Thanks, but I’ve got it.” Actually, physical labor felt good, cathartic even.
A couple of minutes went by before he spoke again. “Did the tin do something to tick you off?” he asked, a touch of teasing in his question.
She stopped, realized thoughts of the past had caused her to start hammering harder. She leaned against the roof and wiped the sweat off her forehead again. “I just want to get done.”
“Won’t do you any good if you beat a hole through the roof.”
Audrey stared down at her boots, frustrated that the past still had the ability to make anger