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KATIE QUICKLY PUT ON the new work boots she’d ordered and hurried out the door to help Will. He’d just finished putting gas in the machine and glanced up at her skeptically. “You have gloves...right?”
Katie looked down at her hands, and noticed her nails, usually impeccably clean and manicured, were now chipped and blotched with stain. Before she could answer, a pair of leather gloves landed against her chest.
“You can use those.”
Katie wasn’t sure if she should be insulted because Will knew she wouldn’t have gloves, or glad he’d thought ahead and brought her a pair. She didn’t have time to linger on the subject. After Will gave the chainsaw a couple of hard pulls, it roared to life. The dog, Zeke, found a comfortable spot in the shade and lay down to watch, as if he did this type of thing every day.
Moving to an area next to the slate steps off the wide back veranda, Will attacked the vegetation with skill and energy, cutting through the knotted maze of thorny bushes and stunted trees. Some of the weeds were as tall as Will, their stalks as wide as his hand.
Ever so slowly, Katie followed along, pulling the debris away from the sides to clear a path. They inched forward, working as a team, but every time Katie glanced over her shoulder to check their advance, she was disappointed by the slow progress. The sun was hot on her back, and despite wearing gloves and long sleeves, her arms were scratched and itchy.
At last Will turned off the chainsaw. He didn’t say anything as he studied her work, but he did give her a slight nod. Katie took the gesture as a sign of approval, which instantly relieved the pain in her neck and shoulders.
“You can have a seat if you’re tired.” He pointed to a moss-covered bench she hadn’t noticed. “I’m out of gas.”
“We’re still in the garden, then?” When Katie turned to her right, she saw part of a fountain sticking up from a jumble of limbs, and the face of the angel she’d seen from the back door on her first visit.
Will nodded, examining the terrain as he tried to get his bearings. “Yes.” He pointed to Katie’s right. “You can barely make out the old wrought iron fence way back there separating the garden from the family cemetery.”
Katie squinted, but could hardly distinguish the old boundary through the lush foliage. “Really?” She remembered the sheriff telling her about the graveyard, but for some reason, it hadn’t occurred to her that she owned it. The thought of having a family cemetery on her property triggered a sense of roots and family.
“Have you been there?” She talked to Will but gazed into the distance. “To the cemetery?”
She turned in time to see Will bob his head to signal he had, but he didn’t stop pulling the larger limbs away from the path.
“So the family members who lived here during the Civil War are all buried here on the property?”
“Probably farther back than that.”
Maybe the cemetery will provide some answers. Maybe I can find Jonathon’s tombstone there. Katie sat down on the bench and rested her bare hand on the seat. How many years had passed since someone rested here? Had Jonathon Wescott? Had the woman in the portrait? Were they somehow related?
So much history. So much mystery. With the sun hot on her back, she studied the marbleized hues of a nearby sycamore tree, then lifted her head to take in the immensity of the white limbs reaching into the sky. The intricate, lacy pattern on the large trunk faded slowly, until transforming to the bleached white bark that entranced her every time she saw it.
This tree was among the most beautiful and majestic ones on the property. As the only sycamore in the garden, it stood out dramatically, creating the impression it had a very special story to tell. Tall and at least a hundred years old, it served as a living connection to the past—holding onto secrets Katie desperately wished to know.
The touch of a wet tongue on her hand interrupted Katie’s thoughts. She patted the head of the large dog. “Nice to meet you, Zeke.”
Will turned around when he heard her and gave a short whistle. “Come.”
The dog moved hesitantly toward him, but kept looking back at Katie.
“Sorry if he’s bothering you,” he said curtly. “He doesn’t usually like women.”
“Really? I wonder why?” Katie stood and brushed off her pants. She’d said the words innocently enough but had no doubt Will understood the underlying sarcasm.
When she came up behind him, he stopped what he was doing and studied the terrain. “I think we’re close to the old carriage road to the barn.” He pointed ahead of him. “There’s a deer trail here, but it’s rough.”
“Let’s see if we can tramp our way through.”
“You sure?” Will’s eyes locked on hers. “It’ll be tough going.”
“Sure. Let’s go.” Katie stepped past him and started walking, but he grabbed her by the back of her shirt.
“Hold on. I’ll go first.” Will set the chainsaw on the ground and began knocking some of the bigger vegetation down with his feet and breaking others with his gloved hands. Katie was beginning to understand that, although Will was a little rough around the edges, he was actually a gentleman. Apparently he just didn’t want anyone to know.
Katie followed his lead, stamping down or breaking what he missed, while Zeke sniffed out the trail ahead. She was so busy concentrating on what she was doing she bumped into Will’s back when he stopped again. As he stepped out of her way, her breath caught in her throat.
An old, ivy-covered stone barn stood amid what must have once been beautiful pastures and fencing. A short distance away was a small cottage with a stone chimney running up one side and a porch running the length of the front. The scene brought to mind a painting one might see hanging in a gallery.
“Do I own this?” Katie’s voice was a whisper.
“If you bought the whole Lacewood property you do.”
High grass was the only obstacle now, and Will was already making his way toward the cottage. When he reached the porch, he stretched out a protective hand. “Careful. Watch your step. I don’t know how stable the wood is.”
Katie grasped the gloved hand he extended to her, though she was startled by the unexpected kindness of the gesture. She found herself leaning heavily on his strong, solid grip to steady her balance on the rickety steps that groaned beneath her weight. When he reached the porch, he stomped a few times, and seeming to like what he heard, released her and continued to the door.
Since the handle turned easily, Katie assumed the door was unlocked and they could walk right in. But when Will pushed, it didn’t budge. He gave it another shove, this time with his shoulder. Still no movement, as if an invisible force held the door closed from within.
Not one to mess around, Will took a step back and gave it a well-aimed blow with his booted foot. The door gave way, sending decades worth of dirt raining down and a subsequent cloud of dust to roll out the door.
Katie followed Will as he went inside, and noticed he limped a few steps. Before she could question him, she stepped across the threshold and forgot about everything but what was in front of her. Large rugs covered most of the wooden floors, and curtains still hung at the windows. Though it was dirty and dusty and showed signs of neglect, the space appeared frozen in time.
Will pulled a lighter out of his pocket and walked over to an old kerosene lantern sitting on a table. After tinkering with it for a minute, he gave up, and turned his attention to a large candle. As it flickered to life, Katie studied the room in the soft, wavering glow.
Her eyes were drawn first to the cavernous fireplace on the far wall. There were remnants of burned logs on the andirons, and ash still smeared on the floor in front. The face of the chimney was blackened from out-of-control fires, and the whole cottage smelled of woodsmoke.
She turned to the wooden table with four chairs and then to the built-in cabinet on another wall. Dishes sat forgotten, and an old bread pan gathered dust on the counter below.
Will walked around the living room while Katie continued to explore.
“What is this place?” she finally asked.
“It’s Old Joe’s place.” Will studied the room with a thoughtful expression. “He took care of the grounds back in the 80s.”
“Joe Addison?” Katie turned and looked straight up into Will’s eyes.
“Yeah. He loved this place.”
No wonder he said he knows about Lacewood. Katie could hardly wait to talk to Old Joe again. “Why did he leave? It appears kind of sudden.”
“His wife got cancer. He couldn’t keep making the long drive to the treatments, so they stayed with friends in Landisville.”
“Did she get better?”
Will’s jaw stiffened. “No. She didn’t. And Joe didn’t want to live here without her. He simply didn’t come back.”
“That’s so sad.”
“Other people have wanted to rent it over the years, but Mrs. Massey wanted to keep it open in case Joe decided to come back. I guess everyone kind of forgot about it once the house was empty.”
“It’s such a warm, inviting space.” Katie could feel the love here. “Old Joe must have had a happy life here.”
Will was busy running his hand over the old table and appeared to be reminiscing. “Would you be interested in renting it?”
The question was asked in such a way it made Katie pause. “Renting it?”
He cleared his throat, but his voice was still gravelly when he spoke. “I’d like to rent it.”
Despite having some misgivings about living in close proximity to a man who so seldom spoke or showed emotion, Katie nodded. “I think we can work something out.”
Again, he cleared his throat. This time sounding more nervous and desperate. “Well, how much do you think you would need per month?”
Katie laughed. “I wouldn’t charge you to live here. You’d be doing me a favor.”
“No. Absolutely not. I wouldn’t feel right—”
“You cleared a path from the house—which I wouldn’t have been able to do myself—and I haven’t paid you a cent yet.”
“I’m not taking a handout—”
Katie put her hand up and stopped him. “It’s not a handout. Look at all the work that needs to be done.”
He seemed to be considering the offer, but still hesitated.
“I know I’m getting the better end of the deal,” Katie said quickly, giving him the opportunity to back out if he wanted. “I’ll throw in a salary if you want.”
“No.” He held out his hand. “It’s a deal.”
“It’s a lot of work,” Katie said again.
“Deal.” His blue eyes locked onto hers and held.
“Okay.” She ripped off her glove and took the proffered hand, trying not to react to the strength of his clasp, or the smile lighting his face. He wore an expression apparently reserved for special occasions, and it was easy to see why. It was too irresistible for ordinary circumstances. “Deal.”
They remained like that, shaking hands, neither of them seeming to know quite when to let go. The significance of the agreement had broken a barrier, but it left an awkwardness neither of them knew how to deal with.
“Where are you going to start?” Katie asked as they finally parted and began walking toward the porch.
“Follow me.” Will pointed toward the small stone barn across the grass-covered lane. “While we’re here, I might as well check to see if Joe left any tools or equipment here.”
Katie carefully placed her feet on the uneven ground as they made their way toward the barn, and noticed a cobblestone walkway barely visible in the high weeds. She gave up on trying to match Will’s long strides and fell behind to watch a bird on a nearby fencepost, singing its heart out.
“That’s a wren.” Will never stopped walking, nor had he turned around. He seemed to know instinctively what she was doing behind his back.
“A wren,” Katie repeated, trying to store the name, the musical notes, and the notable features of her new feathered friend in her memory. “Such a big voice for such a little creature.”
When Will reached the barn, he slid a long latch back from the door with practiced ease while Katie hurried to catch up.
“Hooyah,” Will said under his breath as the large door jerked and ground open on its rusty tracks.
Taking a step around Will’s tall, muscular body filling the entrance, Katie scanned the scene. Sunlight cascaded through the door and appeared suspended in the swirling dust within.
As her eyes grew accustomed to the light, she decided this must be a workshop of some type. Cabinets and drawers lined one wall, while another consisted of a long workbench made of heavy, rough-hewn wood. But the object in the middle was what caused the reaction from the man beside her. He moved toward it and threw back the tarp to expose the front of a massive machine.
“Do you think it works?” Katie whispered, as if the mass of metal under the tarp would wake up if she spoke too loudly.
“I don’t see why it wouldn’t.” He swiped at some cobwebs.
“It seems kind of old.”
“It’s a 1935 Farmall.” Will ran his hand across the frame as if it were an exquisite piece of china. “Beautiful.”
Katie squinted at the hulking thing and tried to see the beauty of it. “It would be beautiful if it runs, I guess,” she finally said.
“Oh, she’ll run.”
Katie was about to ask how he knew the tractor was a girl, but stopped herself when the tone of his voice sank in. It was softer, yet more fervent than she’d ever heard it. And his eyes...Katie gulped as she studied him from the other side of the tarp. They were lit with what appeared to be passion and excitement. She found herself feeling a little envious of the big, red she-machine—and maybe even a pang of jealousy. Even though it was rusty in places and covered with decades of dust, the tractor succeeded in luring more of a response from this unemotional man than anything she’d ever been able to do or say.
“This is part of the deal, right?” He turned to Katie as if suddenly remembering she was there.
“Of course.” She swept her hand through the air. “This is your domain. Have at it. I’m sticking to the house.”
There it was. That look again, as he pulled the tarp all the way off to reveal the entire contraption. Now Katie knew what burning desire looked like. Heaven knows she’d never had anyone look at her that way. Sure, she’d endured gawks of burning lust when forced to wear one of her mother’s low-cut gowns to a high-society event. But this was different. Will’s expression appeared to be adoration mixed with equal parts euphoria and rapture.
With the lifting of the tarp, enthusiasm and interest replaced his sullenness and silence. A distinctive contentment tranquilized his manner, making him appear relaxed and at ease.
Katie’s mind drifted back to her first impression of him, when he’d appeared distracted, detached, disengaged...disinterested. The smile spreading across his face now completely transformed him, softening all the hard lines and making his blue eyes brilliant.
For a moment Katie wondered what it would feel like to have those eyes focus on her the same way. She shook her head and took a step back. The very thought—and this strange surge of infatuation—frightened her. She was here to get away from all the trappings attached to relationships, not start one. The deal she just made would help get her property livable again. That’s all.
Katie caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and ducked as three swallows swooped in with lightning intricacy, startling her as they dipped so close she could feel the breath of wind from their wings. They seemed overjoyed to have found the open door.
“They’re only swallows,” Will said. “They won’t hurt you.”
“I know what swallows are,” Katie snapped, suddenly angry at his condescending tone and his infuriating good looks. She wanted nothing more than to get away from him, to go back to the house and leave him alone with his she-machine. “Let me know if you need anything down here. I’ll see you later.”
Will gave her a suit-yourself type of shrug at first, but then turned with an air of concern as her words sank in. “You know the way? I’ll walk you back.”
“I can follow the path.” Katie turned toward the door.
“I need to get the chainsaw and see if I can get my truck back here. I’ll go with you.”
Katie returned the do-whatever-you-want shrug but didn’t stop to acknowledge him. Despite her best efforts to keep her distance, she could not deny there was some alluring, maddening magnetism drawing her to him.
Why he had such an effect on her, Katie didn’t know. Maybe because he was so different from all the other men she’d ever met. He didn’t flirt or try to impress, and from what she’d seen, he didn’t pretend to like people he didn’t. He was always ready to lend a hand, but never pried or meddled in things that didn’t concern him. The whole town knew him, yet no one dared cross him. Everyone, it seemed, was a bit in awe of him.
Katie ignored the branches tearing holes in her clothes and the low shrubs that tripped her as she picked her way back through the trail she and Will had blazed. But the sound of the branches crunching under his boots right behind her were impossible to hide, as was the panting of Zeke as he ran beside him.
By the time she reached the house, Katie was tired and sweaty, and wanted nothing more than a soothing shower. The thought was so enticing that she started up the steps of the back porch without even saying goodbye.
Will grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. “Are you sure you’re good with this arrangement?” He frowned slightly, studying her with a look of concern. “No second thoughts? I mean, I understand if you—”
“No. It’s fine.” She glanced up at him and then away. Damn those blue eyes. I can’t think straight when he stares at me like that.
But deep down she was reconsidering the agreement. Was this a good idea? Was she starting to feel something for a man she hardly knew, and, frankly, wasn’t sure she liked most of the time? Yes, she’d seen some signs today that he could actually be nice, but for the most part she found him intimidating, imposing, and downright difficult.
Then again, it wasn’t as if they had a contract. Staying in the cottage would be his decision—just as leaving it would be. Come or go. Leave or stay. What could go wrong?
“Okay. Well, good then. Thanks.”
Will started to walk away, and Katie turned back to the house. But for some reason, she spoke the words she was thinking out loud. This was all too complicated to keep inside. “Darn it. If this arrangement is going to work, I think we’re going to have to be friends.”
She didn’t speak in a loud voice, and Will was already some distance away—but she could have sworn she heard him say something under his breath.
It sounded like, “Don’t get my hopes up.”