She's Expecting. Barbara McMahon
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the shore, then up the slight incline, heading toward the trailers. Despite not wanting her around, he would fix the blasted hot-water heater. A pregnant woman needed warm water.
A shaft of pain pierced him. He remembered how much Sara had liked soaking in hot baths when she’d been pregnant with Sammy. Sometimes he’d joined her, the two of them sloshing water everywhere.
Quickening his pace, he tried to put distance between him and the memories. It took a couple of minutes to realize Mandy Parkerson was almost running to keep up with him.
Jackson stopped abruptly. She skidded to a halt and looked at him, her breasts rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. The higher elevation took some getting used to. Exertion wasn’t recommended until a person had become acclimated.
“You needn’t run,” he said.
“I want to see how you fix the hot-water heater. If there’s a problem in the future, I can take care of it myself if I know how.”
“There won’t be another problem before Friday.”
She tilted her chin, meeting his gaze. “I meant beyond Friday—when I’m still here and a valuable member of the team!”
Jackson felt a twitch of amusement. He’d give her credit for being tenacious, if nothing else. But the proof would be in the work and the way she handled herself. He didn’t have time for dilettantes. Tomorrow he’d make sure she realized fully what all was involved. He’d bet she’d be gone by sundown.
He turned back toward her trailer, moving more slowly, conscious of the woman beside him. He’d never had to shorten his stride with Sara.
As they walked along, Jackson’s senses were teased by the floral scent that seemed to float around Mandy Parkerson. It was light and delicate—like she was. It brought home how much he’d missed a woman’s presence in the last three years. And how long the years stretched out, empty and lonely, ahead of him.
Unable to bear the reality of Sara’s and Sammy’s deaths, he’d thrown himself into his work, taking on more and more. Joining Jeff in partnership, he had pushed to build their newly formed J&J Construction to the size it was today. He didn’t have time for friendships beyond the job site, and had no plans to ever get involved with another woman. One heartache in this lifetime was more than he could handle.
Yet for the first time in three years, he was actually looking at a woman. Smelling her scent. Speculating about the true color of her eyes. And wishing she were a hundred miles away.
Innocently walking beside him, Mandy obviously hadn’t a clue about the turmoil he felt. The sooner he got her hot-water heater fixed, the sooner she’d be closed up in her trailer and out of sight—and scent. He didn’t need her to remind him of all he’d lost.
It took five minutes to locate a new propane tank, hook it to the hot-water heater and ignite the pilot light. Once he heard the whoosh that indicated the heater was working, he turned and almost crashed into her. Mandy had been at his elbow every step of the way, watching closely as he worked, asking intelligent questions.
She stepped back quickly, a hint of worry in her eyes.
“It’ll take a while for the water to heat,” he said, wanting to step back, to put distance between them. But the close confines of the trailer didn’t allow that luxury. Why didn’t she move?
“I know. I’ll eat dinner first. Then take a quick shower.” She sighed softly. “I had been hoping for a nice hot bath, but a shower is all this place has.” She smiled politely and stepped back into the living area of the trailer.
Jackson followed, intent on leaving before he did something else stupid. He had a tub in his trailer—the only one in camp, if he remembered correctly. For an instant he almost offered her the use of it. Then sanity took hold. He didn’t want her here, and didn’t plan to do anything to encourage her staying. By Friday, she’d have to admit defeat, and depart.
And if life wasn’t as comfortable as she’d hoped, maybe she’d leave even earlier.
“We start work at eight,” he said gruffly, feeling a hint of guilt for denying her such a minor bit of comfort. But he was determined to have her gone in three days.
“I’ll be there. Thank you for fixing the heater.”
She ushered him to the door and practically shut it in his face.
He stood on the step for a moment, surprised by her move. What did you expect? he asked himself as he walked away. He had done nothing since they’d met to encourage any friendly feelings. Still, he admitted he had expected her to try to change his mind—with a smile, or soft words, or an invitation for a drink. The fact that she hadn’t surprised him.
Mandy stood beneath the hot shower some time later and reveled in the warmth. She wished she could have had a nice soak, but the water felt almost as good cascading down as it would sitting in it. Tilting back her head, she wet her hair, relishing the feeling. She wished the lake was warm enough to swim in—not that late September was the time to go swimming in Colorado’s high country. The lake was probably icy cold even in summer. But it had looked inviting.
When the water began to turn cool, she shut it off and stepped out into the minuscule bathroom. It didn’t take long to dry off and don the flannel nightie she’d brought. Nights were cool in Denver, and she’d known they would be cold in the mountains. Combing her hair, she debated using a dryer. Her hair would curl in any case, so she might as well let it dry naturally.
Slipping beneath the covers a little while later, she turned off the light without reading. She wanted to get a good night’s sleep. She had a feeling she’d need all her wits about her tomorrow to prove to at least one critical partner that she was the perfect secretary.
Curiously, she had no doubt that if she proved her worth, Jackson would let her stay until they closed down for the winter. She suspected he was an honorable man, a man of his word.
She grinned in the darkness. He hadn’t wanted to help her tonight. But he had. Without a word of complaint. Another man might have said that was one hardship of working on a remote site—that they all dealt with cold showers—as a way to discourage her. But he hadn’t.
He’d been patient in answering her questions, too, though he was convinced she would never need a working knowledge of the heater or propane tank.
Would he graciously accept defeat when she showed him she could stay the course? Or would he always be looking for fault, searching for any excuse to fire her and get rid of the woman secretary? He’d agreed to the outrageous terms she’d flung out. If she passed, she’d stay. Something about the man told her that. But he was the one who’d decide if she passed, and she knew the deck was stacked against her.
Mandy was already on the phone to the county building department when Jackson entered the trailer the next morning. She’d seen him up on the framework of the main building when she’d crossed to the office, but he hadn’t seen her. He’d been deep in conversation with two other men, comfortably at home on the high skeleton of the new resort. How long had he worked in construction? Probably since he was a teenager, to be so comfortable on precarious structures.
He looked at her with surprise when he entered.
“It’s only a few minutes past eight o’clock. If he could be here by one, that would work,” she said to the woman on the other end of the line.
Mandy tried to focus on the conversation at hand, ignoring Jackson’s presence to the best of her abilities. But something about him sparked an awareness she wasn’t used to. It was as if the air shimmered with static electricity in his presence.
She almost grinned at her frivolous thoughts. If there were electricity present, he’d use it to zap her away.
Mandy smiled in triumph, but let none of her jubilation show in her voice when the woman on the other end acquiesced. “Thank you, I’ll let them know he’ll be here by one.”
She