Читать книгу The Family Plan - Cathy McDavid, Cathy Mcdavid - Страница 8

Jolyn stepped back and out of the way as the last of the wet concrete was poured to create the foundation of Chase’s new clinic.

A moment later, the friendly-faced young driver who’d made the delivery handed Jolyn a receipt attached to a clipboard. “If I could just get your signature, ma’am, I’ll be outta here.”

She inspected the quantity and the total dollar amount before signing off. The delivery charge was twice the normal rate, but expected. Traveling the road from Pineville to Blue Ridge was both hazardous and time-consuming, forcing her to pay a premium.

“Thank you.” She returned the clipboard after removing the customer copy for her records.

“My pleasure.” The young man’s gaze lingered on her a second or two longer than necessary before he turned and left.

He wasn’t the only one to stare at her with undisguised interest. Jolyn had received similar looks from the clerk at the county office when she pulled the permit, two of the framers and the guy who operated the front-end loader when they’d excavated the ground. His daughter had once competed against Jolyn in barrel-racing events.

Evidently, men in these parts weren’t accustomed to dealing with a woman contractor. Their interest ranged from blatantly sexual to mildly curious. And while no one had shown her any disrespect, a few of the men had been borderline condescending. If that was the worst treatment she received, she’d consider herself lucky.

Jolyn walked the perimeter of the foundation and watched the trio of finishers with their long-handled bull floats transform the rough bed of concrete into a smooth, clean expanse. In this heat, the concrete would solidify within a couple of hours. Tomorrow, they would start framing the exterior walls.

Confident everything was going well, she went to her truck. Opening one of the side-mounted toolboxes, she dug around for a tape measure and a level, which, to her annoyance, weren’t in the last place she’d left them.

She heard Mandy’s small voice behind her.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Hey there.” Jolyn extracted the tape measure with a triumphant grin. “I’m looking for this. And a level. What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I’m bored.”

Two dogs sat at Mandy’s heels, purple and pink leashes attached to their collars. One was short, squat and pitifully ugly, the other a shepherd mix with half of one ear missing. As a kid, Chase was forever dragging home stray or injured animals. Jolyn suspected not much had changed in that regard.

“Can I watch you work for a while?”

“If it’s okay with your dad.” She thought Mandy looked more unhappy than bored.

“He’s still inside talking to Mrs. Payne. She’s watching me today,” Mandy said. “After she’s done washing the dishes and folding the laundry, she’s taking me to her house. She doesn’t have satellite TV, you know.”

“Bummer.” Jolyn resumed rummaging in the toolbox for the level.

“Yeah.” Mandy sighed.

“What about games?” Jolyn asked, wondering if the lack of satellite TV was the only reason for Mandy’s dejection.

“Mrs. Payne doesn’t play games. She sews quilts.”

Jolyn finally located the level, which was buried at the very bottom. “Let me guess. You don’t like to sew quilts.”

“I like to dance.”

“I saw you at the recital last week. You were good.” When Jolyn crossed the yard to the concrete pad, Mandy and the dogs followed her.

“Are you a dancer?”

“Me? No.” Jolyn caught the attention of the closest finisher and pointed to a rough patch that needed smoothing. “I took lessons for a while, then quit.” She winked at Mandy. “I didn’t have your talent.”

“Dad says you and him used to show horses together. Mommy, too.”

“That’s right,” Jolyn said distractedly. With some difficulty, she knelt on the ground and lowered her head until it was even with the pad, visually inspecting it. “Your mom and I were best friends.”

“You were!”

Jolyn cranked her head around. “Your dad didn’t tell you?”

“No.” Mandy’s face reflected a mixture of surprise, delight and disappointment. “He said you were friends, but not best friends.”

“Since we were younger than you.” Jolyn tried to stand but her right leg refused to support her weight. Wincing with pain, she braced her hands on her bent left knee and waited a moment to catch her breath before trying to rise again.

“You okay?” Mandy asked.

“My leg’s a little sore today.”

Sore didn’t begin to describe how it felt. Jolyn had been pushing herself hard for weeks now—driving great distances, walking more than usual, tackling the repairs at Cutter’s Market and her new office and riding Sinbad whenever she had a spare hour.

“Need help?” Mandy took Jolyn by the elbow and tugged.

Despite the little girl’s spindly arms, she impressed Jolyn by managing to hoist her to her feet.

“Those dance lessons have obviously paid off.”

“What?” Mandy furrowed her small, freckled brow.

“I was making a joke.” Huffing, Jolyn smoothed the girl’s hair. “Evidently a bad one.”

“Dad says you hurt your leg when you fell from your horse but I’m not supposed to ask you about it because you might be…” She scrunched her mouth to one side. “Sensitive.”

Jolyn laughed. “You can ask me any questions you want. I don’t mind.”

“I’d rather you tell me about my mother.”

She really should get back to work, but the desperation on Mandy’s face tugged at Jolyn’s heart. She didn’t understand how SherryAnne could leave her child behind and visit only once during the last two years. Surely professional rodeo riders got vacations once in a while.

“You look like her.”

“Everybody tells me that.”

“It’s true.” Jolyn’s mother was deluding herself if she thought she saw something of Jolyn in Mandy. “But you act more like your dad.”

“He didn’t eat his vegetables, either?”

“Okay,” Jolyn conceded, “there may be a few differences between you.”

“And he likes horses more than I do. I’ve got a pony and everything, but I’d rather dance.”

No, Mandy was definitely not the least bit like Jolyn. “You’re nice like he is. And sweet. Kind of quiet, too, until you get to know somebody.”

SherryAnne had always been a loud whirlwind of a person, who existed at the center of her own world. She’d alternate between lavishing affection on her friends and snubbing them.

Her and Jolyn’s relationship had been a complex one—they were friends, but also rivals. Jolyn diligently kept that rivalry restricted to the horse arena, refusing to let it involve Chase. She’d clearly made the right decision, because she and Chase had remained close through the years.

The same wasn’t true for her and SherryAnne. They’d hardly spoken after SherryAnne’s affair with Steven was discovered and not at all since Jolyn left Blue Ridge.

“What did you and Mommy do together?”

Jolyn concentrated on the good memories, those before high school when Chase went from being a boy in their class to SherryAnne’s love interest.

“You probably won’t believe this but your mom adored Barbie dolls. I think she must have had five or six and a few of Barbie’s friends.”

Mandy’s face lit up. “I have Barbies, too.”

“When we were a little older, we used to go to Cutter’s Market pretty much every day. Mostly we rode our horses but sometimes we took our bikes or walked. You mom would buy the latest teen magazine and cut out pictures of all the cute boys. Then she’d tape the pictures to the wall behind her bed.”

“Really?” Mandy’s tone suggested she didn’t understand the appeal. “I have pictures of ballerinas on my wall.”

“I had pictures of horses.”

Mandy giggled. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

The question came so far from left field it gave Jolyn a start. “Yes,” she answered cautiously.

“Which,” Mandy persisted, “and how many of each?”

“One. A brother.”

Jolyn started walking the perimeter of the pad again, checking for defects. Mandy and her small parade of dogs kept pace alongside her.

“Does he live here in Blue Ridge?”

“No. Pineville.” Jolyn cast furtive glances at the back door, hoping Chase would appear and give her a reason not to talk about her brother. When he didn’t, she improvised. “Hey, I’ve got an idea.”

“What?”

“Is there a stick around here?” She scanned the nearby ground.

So did Mandy. “Why?”

“You’ll see.” They found a short stick that would work for what Jolyn had in mind. “Come on.”

She led Mandy to a three-by-five rectangular area jutting out from the concrete pad. It would become the patient entrance when the building was complete.

Jolyn stooped over and, using the end of the stick, scratched the date and Mandy’s name in the lower right hand corner of the rectangle.

“There. Now place your hand below your name and press really hard.”

When Mandy did as instructed, Jolyn laid her own hand over Mandy’s and applied more pressure. The print came out perfect, and Mandy squealed with delight.

“Can we do the dogs’ prints in the other corner?”

“Sure. What are their names?”

“Buzz and Lickety.”

Jolyn scratched the dogs’ names beside Mandy’s. Buzz and Lickety were less enthused about being immortalized in concrete than their young owner but eventually submitted. Jolyn figured if Chase objected, she’d grind out the names and prints and patch the area.

“What’s going on?”

Jolyn spun around to find Chase watching them. She’d been so absorbed with Mandy, she hadn’t heard him approach.

“We were—”

“Daddy, look!” Mandy chimed in while Buzz hobbled off, shaking his foot and whining indignantly.

Chase inspected his daughter’s handiwork and smiled. “Very nice.”

“If you want, I can fix it later,” Jolyn whispered.

“Are you kidding? It’s great.”

“Daddy, let’s do your handprint, too.”

“That’s okay, kiddo. Three’s enough.”

Mandy jumped up and threw her arms around her father’s waist. “I’m going inside to get Mrs. Payne and show her.” In the next instant, she was tearing toward the back door, the dogs on her heels.

Chase turned to Jolyn. “Thanks.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes, you did. Mandy’s been having a tough go of things since her mother left. Each time I think we’re making headway, something happens to set us back again. Last night SherryAnne called to say she wasn’t sure she was going to be here for Mandy’s birthday next month.”

“Oh, Chase. I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. I figured today was going to be a difficult one for all of us. Now it’s not.” He glanced down at the hand and dog prints. “Because of you.”

Giving her no warning whatsoever, he bent and kissed her on the cheek.

Jolyn went utterly still as his lips brushed her skin. She resisted curling her arms around his neck—barely—but couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting closed. When he finally straightened, Jolyn’s breath fled her lungs in a slow whoosh.

She had no chance to recover before he said, “I’ll call you later tonight,” and made for the barn.

The back door banged open, cutting off Jolyn’s reply. Not that she had one. The kiss, despite being chaste, stole her ability to think coherently.

Mandy came darting across the yard, Mrs. Payne in tow. They gave no indication of having seen Chase kiss Jolyn.

If only the same could be said about everybody else there.

When Jolyn finally collected her scattered wits, it was to find a half-dozen construction workers staring at her, most of them wearing silly smirks.

Great. Her face and neck burned with embarrassment. Getting cozy with her client was hardly the way to earn the respect of employees and subcontractors.

She, of all people, should know better. From now on, she’d have to act more professionally in Chase’s presence.

It wouldn’t be easy—not when she could still feel his lips on her skin.

DOTTIE SUTHERLAND doodled on the small notepad in front of her while waiting for her caller to return and interrupt the lame song playing in the background. Shifting the phone to her other ear, she gripped her pen tighter. More curly, swirly clouds became sharp-cornered boxes the longer she waited.

Finally, a living, breathing voice came on the line. “Sorry to keep you holding.”

“That’s all right.” It wasn’t all right but objecting would be an exercise in futility.

“Can you be here this Thursday at four-fifteen?” the caller asked in a clipped, neutral voice.

Three days. Dottie’s stomach gave a small, uncomfortable lurch.

She scribbled the date above one of the doodles, wondering what excuse she could give her family for the trip to Pineville. Shopping, she supposed.

“Mrs. Sutherland?”

Dottie cleared her throat. She almost said no, but knew she couldn’t postpone the appointment. Not again.

“That’ll be fine. Thursday at four-fifteen. Thank you.”

She disconnected the portable phone and set it on the kitchen table. Tears stung her eyes. She tried to wipe them away but all at once there were too many. Thank goodness Milt and Jolyn were both at work.