Sweet Home Colorado. C.C. Coburn
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is not the Wild West anymore,” Will’s wife, Becky, admonished. “But, if you’d like, I could beat her to a pulp with my interrogation tactics. Find out why she left a great guy like you. And why she really came back to Spruce Lake.”
Jack smiled at Becky. She wasn’t known for joking, either. “I appreciate your loyalty, but the truth is, she really has come back to renovate Missy Saunders’s Victorian.”
“And then she’s going to flip it,” Adam said with conviction as he piled mashed potatoes onto his plate.
“Grace is renovating it to save it from further ruin. She won’t be selling it. The house has to stay in the family.”
He turned his gaze back to Adam. “Have you remembered who Mike is yet?” he asked, then muttered, “Traitor,” under his breath.
Carly grinned and said, “Jack, there’s really no hurry to start building our house. For the moment, I’d prefer to stay closer to the hospital. And town. If Adam was on duty and I went into labor, at least he’d be close by.”
“Not that he’d be any use,” Luke, their oldest brother, said.
“Eat, everyone!” Sarah instructed. “Before it gets cold. We can ask Jack about his intentions toward Grace over dessert.”
Jack groaned. And to think half an hour ago he’d been singing the praises of his close-knit family. He should’ve begged off coming here tonight, although, that would only have delayed the inevitable. When he and Grace were dating in high school, his parents and brothers had welcomed Grace into their lives. They’d been almost as devastated as he was when she’d accepted the scholarship to the college in Boston, and turned her back on Spruce Lake—and him.
While Grace seemed to have her life carefully mapped out, Jack had drifted from the peace corps to college, and then entered the seminary, believing that that was where he could best help others. But he’d felt there wasn’t enough time for those genuinely in need. That was why he now helped train homeless and troubled youth in carpentry, to give them a skill, a job, a future. It was satisfying and both physically and emotionally exhausting, but Jack wouldn’t have it any other way.
Thankfully, the focus was now off him as everyone ate and chatted about other topics. Next to him, Becky said, “I’d like to meet Grace sometime. I promise not to interrogate her.”
Jack took a swig of beer and said, “I’d like to believe that, Becky. But I’ve seen you at social functions. Within five minutes of meeting someone, you know their name, occupation, hopes, dreams, likes and dislikes down to the most trivial facts of their existence.”
“I do not!”
“Yeah, you do, sweetheart,” Will said.
Everyone around the table murmured agreement. Becky harrumphed, then whispered to Jack, “Will told me a little about Grace. It sounds like she and I had a similar upbringing. I thought we could be friends. Maybe I could help ease her back into life in Spruce Lake.”
Immediately Jack felt bad for misjudging Becky. She and Grace had both had fathers who were bums, they’d both moved around a lot growing up, they were supersmart and they’d won scholarships to college. And they were both divorced. Except Grace didn’t have a child from her ill-fated marriage.
He said, “I’m sorry, Becky. You’re right, of course. How about swinging by the old house tomorrow and I’ll introduce you.”
* * *
GRACE FLOPPED BACKWARD onto the bed in her hotel room. She hated hotels, their transient nature, accommodating you for a night or two and only too glad to see you on your way. That was why, when Jack had made the deal that meant she had to stay, she’d wanted to move into the house. To feel as if she had a home here until the renovation was finished and she went back to Boston.
She’d moved in with Edward when they got married, only buying a place of her own after the divorce. They’d kept their money separate, which meant she’d saved a lot, but she’d also spent a lot on holidays of Edward’s choosing.
“Fool!” she muttered. How gullible she’d been to sign a prenup that stated she was responsible for all her own expenses! She’d thought that meant her makeup and clothes, but once she was earning she was also responsible for her share of airfares, hotels and grocery bills. Edward would use his credit cards to purchase things, then bill her for her share. When she’d pointed out that he was claiming all the credit card reward points accrued for himself, he’d flown into such a rage she’d dropped it. She’d only realized years later that she’d been in an emotionally abusive relationship.
Grace blew out a breath, lifting her bangs off her forehead. She’d been so naive, marrying a man like that. “Never again!” she vowed, and headed to the shower.
Fifteen minutes later, she was in bed, after calling Marcie, the interior designer, and arranging to meet her at the house in the morning. Next, Grace reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet. She removed the photograph she kept there, tucked away where no one else could see it.
The photo had become worn around the edges over the years, so Grace had laminated it. She studied her newborn daughter. In the picture Grace was holding her close and gazing down at her, but Amelia was looking right at the camera, a tiny frown on her face.
Grace kissed the photo and returned it to her wallet, then closed her eyes and thought of what tomorrow would bring. More of Jack, she hoped. How different would her life have been if she’d stayed in Spruce Lake and married him? And kept their baby?
Chapter Five
When Grace arrived at the house at eight-thirty the following morning with Marcie Mason in tow, Jack had already replaced the broken windowpane, ordered the materials necessary to start the job and was just signing for a consignment of oak to fix the broken stair treads.
He gave one of his men a list of door and window locks to order, then went to meet the two women.
“Hi!” Grace greeted him as she alighted from her sleek red rental. “You fixed the window already!”
Jack ignored the instant effect Grace had on him, instead giving her a rundown of what had been achieved so far. “I’ve marked the steps that need replacing,” he told them, “but be careful. If you don’t mind, I’ll leave you ladies to it, while I get on with making the new stairs.”
Grace led the way to the second floor, chattering with Marcie like they were old friends. Satisfied, Jack set to work, doing a final measure of the treads.
Twenty minutes later, the two women were moving about the main floor, taking measurements and discussing color schemes.
Marcie disappeared into the kitchen, and Grace paused beside Jack. “She seems very competent,” Grace said.
“More so than you,” he said, nodding at her outfit. “I thought I told you to come dressed for work.” He regretted the words the moment he said them. Being rude to Grace to cover his discomfort wasn’t right.
“I was meeting an interior designer! I didn’t want her getting the wrong impression of me.”
“And what impression would that be?”
“That I let my contractor boss me around?”
“I’m so glad you made that a question,” he said. “Once she leaves, you need to go buy a pair of boots like these.” He indicated his heavy, steel-toed work boots.
Grace stared at them in horror. “You must be joking!”
“Nope. They’re a health and safety requirement. And my requirement—which you agreed to, is that you pitch in and help. Remember?”
Grace screwed up her face. “Stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
“Yup. And by the way, here’s my estimate. In spite of your haste to get me going on this project, I think it only