Her Very Own Family. Trish Milburn
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you and my dad meet?” Brady asked.
She swallowed her instinctive aversion to questioning and replied in an even tone, “At the grocery store. I helped him find something he was looking for.”
“And that led to him working out here every day?”
Audrey glanced at Brady. “You’re the inquisitive sort, aren’t you?” she asked, keeping her question light, not accusatory.
Brady sat back and propped one forearm on his upturned knee. “I’m just looking out for my dad.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing.”
“Why?”
“Because he seemed like he needed it.” One glance at Brady told her that he had, indeed, simply been concerned for his recently widowed father’s welfare. She remembered how lost Nelson had looked in the grocery store and understood Brady’s concern. Just because the concept of a close relationship with a parent wasn’t within her current realm of possibility didn’t mean they didn’t exist anymore. Even she had once enjoyed such a relationship.
Nelson wandered outside to dump some wood scraps into the burning barrel. Neither she nor Brady spoke until the older man stepped back inside.
“Listen, I’m not sure what you were thinking, but I’m not out to get anything from your dad. He’s a nice man, and I’ve liked having him around. And he appears to like coming out here.”
Brady stretched his legs out and leaned back on his palms. He stared toward the gentle flow of the creek. “I’m sorry. He was just acting so different from the last time I saw him.”
“But that’s a good thing.”
Brady looked at her, questions written all over his handsome face.
“When I met your dad, he was standing in front of the cherry pie filling in the grocery store, totally overwhelmed by which one to buy. He was on the verge of tears. It made my heart break. He looked so relieved when I helped him pick a can for cobbler.”
Brady lowered his head, as if he were trying to see his dad through the tin of the roof. “Mom’s cobbler. It’s his favorite dessert.”
“I didn’t know about your mom then. I thought your mom had sent him to the store to do the shopping she normally did.” She told him about her conversation with Meg the cashier and her subsequent encounter with his dad in the parking lot. “I was only trying to help him in that moment. But once he came out here with those picture frames, he seemed to want to talk. The more we talked and I told him about my ideas, the more of his sadness drifted away. I mean, I still see it sometimes, but I honestly think it’s good for him to stay busy. It keeps his mind on something other than how much he misses your mom.”
And Audrey was the expert on staying busy to keep other thoughts at bay.
“I know. That’s part of the reason I came up here. I was worried about him. He hasn’t been the same person since Mom died.”
“That’s understandable. They were married for a long time. This isn’t something you get past in a few days.” She remembered the deep sorrow that had cloaked her own mother in the weeks following the unexpected death of Audrey’s father.
Brady glanced up at her. “You say that like you know from experience.”
She swallowed and shook away the unwanted memory. “Just common sense.” She lifted the hammer and moved toward the top of the roofline. “We should try to finish this before it gets too hot. I’m already sweating like I’ve been jogging across Death Valley.”
The old keeping-busy philosophy at work. If she filled her mind with roofing and painting and electrical wiring, she didn’t have to remember the father she’d lost. Or the mother she’d walked away from.
AUDREY YORK MIGHT NOT be after his father’s money, but she was definitely hiding something. Call it gut instinct, but he’d seen something in her eyes, almost a touch of fear. Fear that he’d find out something she wanted to keep hidden? He shook his head, realized yet again that he was comparing her to a bad memory. His brain knew all women weren’t like Ginny, but his gut kept missing the memo.
But he had to give credit where credit was due. She was indeed a hard worker. She was slicked with sweat, cuts and scrapes covered her hands and knees, her hair was coming loose from her ponytail, and she didn’t pay any of it a moment of attention. Her single-minded focus stayed on getting this roof completed in record time.
He paused for a moment to watch her hammer. Even disheveled, she was a beauty. And she acted like she was either unaware of that fact or didn’t care. Before his work pants became uncomfortable, he pulled another piece of tin into place.
“Dad said you moved from Nashville. Did you run a restaurant there?”
Audrey made one last strike of the hammer before shifting to the right and the next piece of tin. “No.” She paused to lift her sweaty face to what little breeze was stirring the air. She seemed to hesitate before continuing. “I was a fund-raiser.”
Fund-raiser to restaurant owner—odd transition. So was Nashville to Willow Glen.
“What about you?” she asked. “I hear you have a construction company or something.”
Brady noticed how she deflected the focus back to him, how she seemed unaware of how big Witt Construction was. Maybe he’d just acknowledge the small Kingsport location and see how she reacted. “Half of one. My partner, Craig, owns the other half.” He caught the quick, questioning glance she tossed his way. “That’s business partner, not partner partner.”
She laughed. “You guys are so overly sensitive about that topic.”
“Just clarifying.” Wow, she should definitely smile more often. It rocketed her from beautiful to stunning.
“What?”
The questioning look on her face told him he’d been staring again. She had that effect on him. “Nothing. I was thinking you seem to be in a safer mood now that you’re not trying to murder the tin with that hammer.”
She held up the tool in question and stared at it. “Guess I worked out most of the frustration I was feeling.”
He held up a hand, palm out. “Remind me to never frustrate you.”
Damn, he was flirting. He wasn’t here to get a date. He’d left a pile of his own work behind to make sure his dad was okay. But he’d done that and yet here he still was, working for no pay. Seemed his dad was no longer the only person on his mind.
Audrey shook the hammer at him in mock threat, then went back to her task.
Just because he wasn’t looking to hook up didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the view while he worked.
They were putting the last piece of tin on one side of the roof in place when a racket and then a string of curses came from inside the mill. They nearly tripped over each other getting to and down the ladder. When they rushed inside, Nelson was holding his hand and still uttering a few choice words.
“What’s wrong?” Audrey rushed toward Nelson.
“Ah, I smashed my finger with the hammer.”
“Let me see.”
Brady watched as Audrey took his dad’s hand in hers, turned it over carefully and examined it. Something shifted inside him at the gentleness and concern. He didn’t think anyone could fake with that much authenticity.
“We need to take you to the emergency room, make sure you haven’t broken anything,” Audrey said.
His dad moved his hand out of hers. “No need for that. It’s nothing.”
“It’s turning a nice shade of eggplant,” she argued, her hands on her hips.
“Honey, if I’d gone to the hospital every