Two weeks later, Jace listened to the chat and clatter inside the Sugar Shack Bakery while he ate his usual breakfast. He was a regular, preferring Miriam Martinelli’s cooking to his own. Other businessmen started their day here as well and he’d learned about more than one restoration job over a plate of bacon and eggs.
This morning he would have liked to sit alone and worry to himself, but the local gathering place was jammed as usual and folks sat wherever they could find a seat.
“Met that friend of yours yesterday, Jace.”
The speaker was Tooney Deer, the local mechanic who owned Tooney’s Tune-Up. The Native American’s chair was crammed between GI Jack and Popbottle Jones. Jace and Sloan Hawkins finished out the group of five seated elbow to elbow at a table intended for four. Thick white platters of pancakes, eggs, and meat along with matching cups of steaming coffee crowded the space even more.
Jace stopped chewing. “Donny Babcock?”
Since his arrival, Donny was slippery as a snake. Jace wasn’t surprised that he was getting around town. Concerned, but not surprised. He wished every thought about Donny wasn’t negative but the man he recalled wasn’t worth anyone’s confidence. Even though he’d saved Jace from certain death that one time, Donny had double-crossed him a few times, too. And the old Donny Babcock would lie when the truth was easier. The new Donny didn’t seem much different.
Jace had offered him a job, primarily to keep an eye on him, but Donny found other things to do. Real labor was never his favorite activity. Like this morning when Jace left the house at six, Donny grumbled something about having business calls to make. Jace was tempted to hang around and see what kind of calls Donny was making, but he had customers waiting.
“Said he’s staying at your place for a few days to help you out.”
That was Donny. Twist the story to suit his purposes.
“He’s here for a few days.” He hoped the stay was brief. Since Donny’s arrival, he felt as if was holding his breath all the time, looking over his shoulder, waiting for the ax to fall.
“He says the two of you go way back.”
“Yeah.” To avoid further conversation, Jace bit off a chunk of buttery toast. The last thing he wanted was questions about how and where and when he’d known Donny Babcock. Small town folks with conservative values didn’t tolerate criminals.
Just last year the local chief of police had been indicted for murder and sent to prison.
“Nice enough fellar, I guess. Kind of jumpy.”
Jace thought the same thing but he’d been alert to any evidence of drugs in the house and hadn’t found any.
“Well, lookee here who’s coming in the door, looking like Mary Sunshine.” GI pointed one of Miriam’s fat buttered biscuits toward the bakery’s glass door.
Kitty Wainright sailed into the bakery, a soft floral skirt swirling around her legs. Jace’s chest clenched. The air in the room seemed to grow lighter, warmer.
Kitty’s pale hair fell long and loose this morning with soft bangs framing her small face. If she ever wore makeup, he couldn’t tell, but with wide blue eyes and skin like a pearl, she needed no enhancement.
“Mighty handsome woman,” GI muttered in Jace’s direction before booming, “Howdy, Miss Kitty.”
Kitty spun, a ready smile blooming. She raised a hand in greeting. “Good morning.”
GI Jack cut his eyes at Jace. “Mmm-hmm. Mighty handsome single woman.”
Jace shoved in a forkful of scrambled egg and pretended his pulse hadn’t kicked into third gear.
“Here’s a spot for you, Miss Kitty.”
After pocketing two fluffy biscuits and a square pack of jelly, GI Jack pushed back from the table.
“I don’t really have time to sit.” But she began winding her way through the chairs and tables in their direction.
“Might as well. I’m leaving, too.” Tooney took a final slurp of coffee and stood. “That’s Pastor Parker bringing in his car right now. Brake job.”
Popbottle Jones rose as well, dignity in the old professor’s movements. From beneath the table, he retrieved a large canvas bag, the collection sack for his recycling business. “Time and tide waits for no man.”
“Yep. Time and tide.” GI’s head bobbed. “The trash man, too.”
The pair of unlikely friends never missed a Dumpster if they could get there before the garbage truck.
Popbottle placed some neatly folded dollar bills beneath his plate and hoisted the canvas bag to his shoulder. The Dumpster divers looked like bums, but Popbottle Jones and GI Jack never failed to tip. “You gents have a blessed day.”
In seconds, three men had departed, leaving Jace and Sloan alone at the table. Jace looked at Sloan with chagrin. “What was that all about?”
Sloan grinned. “I think you know.”
At that moment Kitty arrived, bringing with her the scent of fresh air and sunshine. Jace’s belly knotted in a mix of pleasure and despair. If his friends were matchmaking, they were wasting their time.
Sloan pushed aside a pile of plates to make room for the newcomer. As Kitty settled with feminine grace, Sassy Carlson sailed by, snatched up the plates and swiped a cloth across the tabletop.
“Anything for you, Kitty?” the waitress asked.
“Two dozen doughnuts to go, please. Mixed. When you get a minute.”
“Don’t say that, you’ll be here all day.” Sassy’s jaunty grin matched her bobbing brown ponytail. “Want some coffee while you wait?”
“Oh, might as well. And one of those decadent sticky rolls that are so bad for me.”
“Got it.” The waitress sashayed away, dodging chairs, checking tables, and offering comments as she went.
“You’re out and about early this morning, Kitty.” Sloan casually stirred his coffee.
“The Land Run committee meeting.” Clutching a small, flat handbag, Kitty propped her arms on the tabletop. The tiny purse chain clinked against worn Formica. “I’m picking up the doughnuts.”
The Land Run Committee was made up of business people and interested citizens who put together all the details of the two-day historical celebration. Jace had never joined the official committee but he helped out where he could.
“Annie and I will be there,” Sloan said. “Have you talked to Margo this week?”
Local businesswoman Margo Starks chaired the Land Run Committee along with the mayor. Jace found the woman intimidating but she got the job done.
“Not since the last meeting. Why?”
“She told Annie the vendor list is filling up. The Old West Gunfighters and the trick rider group confirmed.”
“Oh, good. Both of those are highlights.”
“And…” Sloan paused for effect. “Both groups asked about staying at your motel again.”
Kitty clapped her hands. “You’re just full of good news this morning, Sloan Hawkins.”
“Which means I need to get to those repairs sooner rather than later,” Jace said. Kitty needed the extra income that came with the Land Run Celebration but that required all the motel units be in top shape. Which they were not.
Kitty’s blue gaze turned on him. “Will you have time?”
“Sure.” He’d make time. She was a hero’s widow.
His conscience tweaked just the slightest. Dave Wainright wasn’t the only reason he found time for the Widow Wainright.
“Will your friend be helping you? He told me about that place in Florida the two of you renovated.”
Jace hoped his face didn’t register the shock. He’d never been to Florida in his life and to his knowledge Donny knew nothing about building, particularly the special kind of restoration Jace did.
“I can’t speak for Donny, but the work will get done in time. Don’t worry.”
“Oh, I’m not worried. If you tell me you’ll do something, you always do.” She turned her smile on Sloan. “Redemption’s blessed to have someone like Jace.”
Sloan cast an amused glance at Jace. “Can’t argue that. His expert eye saved me a bundle on Aunt Lydia’s chimney. I was going to tear the thing down.”
“It’s not about the money,” Jace said.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s the history.” Sloan sipped at his coffee, then grinned from Jace to Kitty. “Get him talking about restoration and he’s a chatterbox.”
Jace grinned sheepishly. Sloan was right. He felt good about making old things new again, and he believed the most dilapidated building could be rehabilitated into something beautiful.
“Why tear down something that’s impossible to get back? All that history and character gone forever.”
“Which is why Kitty’s right. Redemption needs you, my friend.”
“I hope you’ll still say that after you get my bill.”
They all laughed, but Jace reached for his napkin, more for something to do than out of need. Compliments made him nervous. What if he couldn’t live up to them? Especially now that Donny was in town.
Kitty leaned forward and, above the smells of coffee and bacon, Jace caught the soft scent of roses. “Which reminds me, I almost forgot to tell you. The closet door in Unit 4 won’t close. I know you’re busy, but when you get time—”
“I’ll run by this afternoon.”
Sloan made a funny noise. “Listen, kids,” he said. “I’d love to stay—but duty calls. Duty and a gorgeous blonde. Annie and the kids are expecting fresh raisin bread with their breakfasts and I see Hank putting loaves in the case now.”
Kitty glanced at the clock above the cash register. “You’d better hurry if you plan to make the Land Run meeting.”
“Right.” Sloan pushed back and rose, directing his parting remarks to Jace. “Let me know what you think about the attic repair.”
Jace nodded. “Call you tonight.”
And he was left alone with Kitty.
Jace was on the premises. Again.
Pleasure curled in Kitty’s chest. Even from her position in the attic of the laundry room, she could hear his quiet voice talking to someone. He had such a nice voice. Soothing. Kind. She liked to hear Jace talk.
Like yesterday in the Sugar Shack, she’d practically had to pry words from him until she’d asked about the renovations on the old bank and he’d opened up. She’d sat back, nibbled the gooey cinnamon roll and listened to that soothing voice.
Now she could hear it again, somewhere outside the motel units.
She stuck her head through the open hole leading down onto the washer. “Jace!”
The rumbling voices stopped. “Kitty? Where are you?”
“Laundry room.”
In seconds, the door opened and sunlight spilled over the washing machine like melting butter. Spring was fully upon them and Kitty reveled in the new awakenings of life. However, spring also meant birds trapped in the attic and she was determined to discourage their nests early on.
“What are you doing up there?” Jace’s head was tilted back. He wore an amused expression above his usual neatly pressed jeans and shirt. In one work-gloved hand, he carried a leather tool belt.
Next to him was his friend, Donny Babcock. She’d only met Donny a few times since he’d sat in her office and told her far more about his life than she wanted to know. He was nice enough, she supposed. A little pushy maybe but if Jace liked him, he must be okay.
“Birds.” She slapped a hand at a cobweb stuck to her hair. “Phew. I’ll need to go through the washer myself when I finish this job.”
“Want me to have a look?”
“No, that’s all right. I can do it, although I feel bad about destroying all the hard work some poor little pair of birds has done to build a nest. Do you have any extra boards on you? Maybe if I find their entrance points and cover them, the birds can’t get in here in the first place.”
“Let me come up and have a look.” He turned to Donny. “You can unload the materials over at Unit 7 while I take care of this.”
Donny didn’t look too happy about the assignment but he flashed a toothy grimace at Kitty and left.
“Come up and I’ll show you.”
“How did you get up there?”
“The washer.”
Jace looked dubious. “No ladder?”
All the blood was starting to run to her head. She must look like a beet by now. A beet with stringy blond hair loaded with cobwebs and insulation.
“Oh, come on, scaredy cat. You can do it.”
His mouth curved. “Catch me if I fall?”
Impossible, considering she was above and he was below so she laughed. “Absolutely.”
After pocketing his gloves, he handed up his tool belt and stepped upon the washer. When he stood, Kitty’s hair grazed his face. He blew it out of the way. And just that simple little connection made her pulse jump. She retreated from the opening.
His hands appeared first, strong and capable. Then as if he was chinning himself in a gym, he pulled his upper body through the opening.
Kitty’s pulse fluttered again. For a trim guy, Jace Carter was incredibly strong.
Dust flew around him as he stood. Balancing with booted feet on separate rafters, he placed a fist on either hip. “A ladder would have been easier.”
Kitty tossed her hair, laughing at him. “A challenge is good for you.”
“I’ll remember you said that when we’re both in traction.”
Kitty laughed again. She felt almost giddy today. It must be spring and the excitement of the coming Land Run Celebration. She glanced at Jace standing there, stance wide, as he stared around at the attic interior. Kitty knew what attraction felt like, though she’d long repressed the emotion out of dedication to Dave. But Annie’s comments had her noticing Jace Carter. If she was attracted to him, she didn’t want to be, though she had to admit the zip in her blood felt good.
“The birds must be getting in through that vent under the eave,” she said, pointing.
“They probably ripped through the screen.”
“Can a little bitty bird do that?”
“Sure. Shelter is a powerful incentive.”
To prove the fact, wings fluttered around the gap leading to the outside but the bird quickly flew away when Kitty moved in that direction. She picked her way toward the wall, taking care not to step off the rafters. A step down would put her in contact with the ceiling of the laundry room. She doubted the Sheetrock would hold her weight.
“Wouldn’t hurt to put a floor up here.” Jace stepped gingerly, too, his contractor’s eyes studying the wiring as he moved.
“Too expensive. I don’t come up here often.”
“Once is all it takes.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Grim reaper.”
His mouth curved, and she was tempted to do something else silly just to watch his eyes light up and the corners crinkle with merriment. Sometimes he was too solemn.
“Let’s check the nests first, make sure there are no eggs yet.”
Kitty caught her lip between her teeth. “What will we do if there are? I don’t want to break up someone’s happy home.”
She expected Jace to tease. Instead, his smile was soft. “Let’s look first, then worry.”
“Good advice.” Kitty started for the closest nest, a bundle of dried grass and twigs.
“Can you reach it?” He started toward her.
She tiptoed. “Maybe.”
Straining to see inside the nest, she peeked inside. A wild flap of wings rushed her face. “Oh!”
She jerked back, lost her balance, and fell at an angle across the rafters to slam her shoulder into the side of the house.
Jace was there before the dust cleared. He crouched beside her. “Are you okay?”
A little shaky, she sat up and dusted off her now dirty blouse. “Embarrassed. It was just a bird.”
“An unexpected bird. I would have done the same thing.”
“Probably not, but you’re sweet to say so.” She rotated her shoulder.
“Come on, let’s get you up and assess the damage.”
He took her by the arm, and once again she was aware of the strength in those battered carpenter’s hands. Together they stood, Kitty teetering a bit as she sought for balance and to quiet her racing pulse.
Jace hooked an arm around her waist and stood like a solid wall, letting her lean on him, waiting for her to settle. Through the dust of the attic, she caught the scent of soap, aftershave and warm man, scents she’d tried to forget about in the years since Dave’s death. A woman missed those manly smells.
“Okay now?” That quiet voice of his soothed something inside her.
Kitty nodded, acutely aware of how close they were, of how solid he was, and of how small and delicate she felt next to him.
Jace cleared his throat and slowly released his hold. She clung to his shoulder a moment longer. “Jace.”
He broke contact gently but firmly and stepped back two rafters. His face was tense. “You shouldn’t come up here. It’s not safe. You’re bleeding.”
Kitty glanced in surprise at her bloodied palm. “It’s only a scrape.”
“You should put something on that.” He turned his back as though the sight of her blood bothered him. “Go on down. I’ll take care of this.”
He moved away and went to the damaged vent. Kitty watched his stiff back for a moment longer and then she slid through the attic opening into the laundry room.