Читать книгу Home to Montana - Charlotte Carter - Страница 13

Chapter Four

Excruciatingly aware of Nick and his dog following her, Alisa led them to the equipment shed behind the diner. She heard his footsteps on the gravel. Caught the faint scent of his tangy aftershave on the breeze. Felt his eyes boring a hole into her back.

Straightening her spine, she gave her hair a little toss as she keyed the padlock open and slid the door aside. There was nothing to be nervous about. She’d been in this shed for one reason or another with Jake Domino any number of times.

Nick Carbini wasn’t any different. They were both handymen. Or so she told herself as Nick brushed past her into the shed, planting himself in the dim light at the center of the garage-size structure.

Rags stretched out his leash to investigate on his own.

“You’ve got lots of equipment,” he commented, checking out their four-wheel drive Jeep and the old aluminum fishing boat on a trailer beside it. Her father had named it Dreamer because of his dream to own his own business.

She turned on the overhead lights. “We use the Jeep to clear our own parking lot when it snows and to get around town when we need to in winter. In the summer, we can drag a tiller for the small garden where we raise fresh vegetables.”

“Ah, that’s why the julienne squash tasted so good last night. Nothing beats from-garden-to-table fresh vegetables.”

“We’re pretty much at the tail end of the vegetable garden now.” It surprised her that he’d noticed the fresh produce. Most men wolfed down their meal without even tasting it. Apparently Nick took a little more time with his dinner.

“The hand tools are to your left.” Hammers, hand saws, screwdrivers, and pliers hung neatly on a Peg-Board. “Have you done much carpentry work?”

“One summer when I was a teenager I got on a construction crew as a helper.”

“Is that what you do for a living? Construction?” She could have bitten her tongue for asking, but the words had simply popped out of her mouth. Her curiosity had gotten the best of her.

He poked around checking out the power tools next to the workbench and hefted a power saw. “Not usually. I only lasted on the job for a couple of weeks. I dropped a load of two-by-fours on the boss’s foot. He wasn’t real happy with me.”

“Guess that was long after you moved away from Bear Lake.”

He turned slowly to look at her. “You know I used to live here?”

Trying for casual, she leaned back against the Jeep and crossed her arms. “We were in the same third-grade class.”

He returned the power saw to its place and crossed the shed to her. He studied her face, but there was no recognition in his eyes.

An irritating sense of disappointment tightened her lips.

“That was a long time ago,” he said.

“Mama remembered your family.”

He snorted a disparaging sound. “And she still hired me?”

“She remembers you being a nice kid.” So did Alisa, although she wasn’t about to admit that.

He looked at her again and shook his head. “I’m sure if I’d stuck around here a few years longer, I would have remembered you. You’re not a woman a man would easily forget.”

But boys rarely remembered skinny girls with stringy hair and massive gaps between their front teeth, which Alisa eventually eliminated with braces.

She stepped aside, trying to put more space between them. Far enough so that she couldn’t feel his eyes skimming over her face making her cheeks flush and her breath catch. “Well, help yourself to whatever tools you need to fix the steps. Just be sure to lock up the shed when you’re done.”

“You got it.”

Exiting as quickly as she could, she hurried back to the diner. Not a woman a man would easily forget. Did he mean that? Or was he simply being polite? A throwaway compliment?

What difference would it make either way? She liked her life the way it was. Things were comfortable. Predictable. Perfect for her.

During the prelunch lull, she found her mother at her desk in the kitchen working out her order for the next day from the restaurant supply delivery service.

“I wish you hadn’t hired that man,” she said.

Mama glanced up at her. “What man?”

“You know what man I mean. Our new handyman.”

“Ah, you mean Nick. Why should I not have hired him?”

“Well, because...” Unable to think of a logical reason, she plopped down in the chair beside the desk.

“Because he makes you nervous?” Mama provided.

“Of course not. It’s just that... Well, he doesn’t really have any construction experience. He won’t have any idea how to fix the steps.”

“He’s a smart man. He’ll figure it out.”

Leaning back in the chair, Alisa sighed.

“What is it, my little princess?” Mama asked softly, using the words Alisa’s father had called her. “Is it that you are attracted to Nick?”

“Certainly not.” She folded her arms across her chest. “He only showed up yesterday. He’ll be gone soon. Why would I be attracted to a man like that?” Another drifter.

Looking at Alisa with a mother’s probing eye, Mama said, “I think you are afraid to feel something for a man.”

“That’s nonsense.”

“Ever since Ben, you will have nothing to do with any man. You ignore them. Or you put on a phony smile and laugh off their advances. You’re thirty years old. At your age, you should be thinking about—”

“Mama, I’m perfectly happy just as I am. I don’t need a man. I’ve got Greg and I’ve got you. That’s all the family I need.” Her voice shaking, she stood. “As for the men around here, they’re either married, divorced or can’t manage an intelligent conversation for more than two seconds.”

“Larry Cornwall is a smart man. He has a college degree.”

“He’s a jock, Mama. He talks about fullbacks and tailbacks and running the end around something. He spends his spare time watching reruns of college games. That hardly makes for an intellectual conversation.”

“So you say. But it may be that Nick Carbini is different than other men you have met. Maybe there’s a reason God brought him back home.”

“Don’t count on it. Besides, drifters don’t have a home.” Without saying another word, Alisa marched out of the kitchen. What a ridiculous thing for her mother to say. That she was afraid of men? Not for a moment. She could do anything a man could do. Chop wood. Plow snow from their parking lot. She could probably fix the porch steps if she were so inclined.

It was just that Nick made her...nervous.

She’d strayed from God’s path once, which left her with a heartache and a child born out of wedlock. Although she would never regret having Greg, she had no intention of making that mistake again.

Which was precisely why Nick made her so nervous. If she weakened even a little, she might not be able to stop from making another serious error in judgment. A woman didn’t fall into a man’s arms simply because she was attracted to his dark good looks and the hint of loneliness in his eyes. That would only lead to heartache.

* * *

Wood rot was the problem on the bottom two steps. Not simply the bolts that held the step in place loosening.

Nick had found some wood that matched the existing steps and cut it to length. There had even been a jar full of the bolts in the shed that he needed. Now he was drilling holes for the new bolts.

“Hey, mister.”

Silencing the drill, Nick looked up. “Hey, Greg. You can call me Nick, if you want.”

“’Kay.”

“How was school?”

“Same ol’. What’re you doing?”

Nick sat back on his haunches. “Fixing these steps. They were wobbly.”

The boy eyed the new wood. “Can I help?”

Nick gave some thought to whether Alisa would approve or not. “Maybe when I put the sealer on the new wood you could help.” A boy needed to feel useful, not ignored.

The youngster shifted from one foot to the other, then eased over to Rags, who was tied up a few feet away. “Maybe I could play with Rags while I’m waiting.”

Nick’s lips twitched into a smile. “I think Rags would like that a lot.”

“Great.” He tossed his backpack aside and dropped to his knees, roughing up Rags’s coat and scratching him behind his ears. Eager to return the greeting, Rags licked Greg’s face, which resulted in high-pitched giggles. Unhooking the leash, Greg said, “Come on, boy. Let’s find a stick.”

Smiling, Nick watched the two of them race off, Rags in the lead, happy at last to be able to run free.

He’d never had a dog as a kid. The closest he’d come to having a pet was a goldfish he’d won at a school carnival. The poor fish—he’d named him Oscar—hadn’t lasted long. One morning Nick had found him on the floor. Oscar had apparently jumped out of his bowl during the night. Nick had wanted to bury him in the backyard, but his dad made him flush the fish down the toilet.

It didn’t matter. Either way, Oscar was dead. Nick wasn’t allowed to cry.

He wrestled the new steps into place and tightened down the bolts. The newly cut wood smelled clean and fresh. He could understand why a man would want to work with his hands building things. Things that lasted.

Alisa stepped out onto the porch and hesitated a moment checking out Nick’s work. Then she let her gaze travel to Greg and Rags who were romping through the high grass.

“Greg! Time to come in.”

The boy circled around before racing Rags back to the diner. He slid to a stop, breathing hard. Rags dropped to the ground panting. Both boy and dog had worn themselves out. At least momentarily.

“I was worried about you,” Alisa said. “You were late getting home.”

“I was playing with Rags.”

“So I gather. Come on in. You can have a snack before you do your homework.”

“It’s Friday, Mom. I don’t have any homework.”

“Well, come in anyway, honey. I’ll find you—”

“I can’t, Mom. Nick said I could help him put sealer on the step.”

Her gaze dropped pointedly to Nick, who was squatting on the bottom step. “He did?”

He lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug. “The bare wood has to be sealed or it will absorb rain and snow. You’d have to replace the steps all over again in a couple of years.”

“I know that.”

Nick grinned. “Of course you do.”

She glowered at him. Nick figured she didn’t like to be teased, but it was kind of fun anyway, seeing her get all flustered. Her cheeks turned pink with a blush.

“If he’s going to help,” Nick said, “might be good if he changed into old jeans and a shirt. Sealer can get pretty messy.”

Greg snatched up his backpack. “Can I, Mom? Can I?”

She sighed in defeat. “I suppose.”

“Thanks, Mom.” The boy leaped up the steps and burst in through the door.

Resting her hand on the railing, she shook her head and frowned. “It’s all right if he helps you some, but I don’t want my son to get...attached to you.”

A sharp pain of regret stabbed Nick in the chest. “You don’t have to worry. I won’t be around that long.”

Her gaze skittered away from Nick. “I know. That’s exactly why I don’t want him to get too friendly with you.”

“Guess your husband would object, too.”

Her gaze snapped back to him. She bristled. “I don’t have a husband.”

“I wondered about that.” It didn’t seem right that such a good-looking woman didn’t have a husband. A father for her son. “Guess the guys around here are all blind and half-stupid for not latching on to a good thing when it’s right in front of their noses.”

She brought herself up to all of her five-feet-five height and lifted her chin. “Mr. Carbini, I’ll have you know I am not the kind of woman who latches on to any man who just happens to be handy. Nor do they latch onto me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see that Greg changes into something appropriate for painting the porch steps.” Doing an abrupt about-face, she marched into the diner.

Thoughtfully, Nick tilted his head. She was one proud lady. Chances were good all that pride was hiding one giant hurt that hadn’t ever healed.

If Nick knew for sure who had done the hurting, he’d be happy to take the fellow into the woodshed and do a little attitude correcting on Alisa’s behalf.

Except chances were also good that she wouldn’t appreciate him being the one standing up for her. Not if she knew about his past.

Nick got back to work, and it wasn’t long before Greg reappeared at the back porch.

“I’m ready!” He wore jeans with a tear in them, a faded blue T-shirt and an eager smile.

“Okay, Greg. Let’s see if your mom has a can of sealer and some paintbrushes in the equipment shed.”

Nick hadn’t put Rags back on his leash after Greg went inside to change. Now the dog trotted beside the boy, probably in the hope a suitable fetch stick would appear.

“You know where your mom keeps the paints?”

“In the back.” The boy dashed ahead, Rags on his heels.

Nick sauntered after them. Gallon paint containers lined four shelves across half the back wall. Scanning the labels, Nick found what he was looking for, a half-full can of sealer. He pried open the lid.

“Looks good. Now, how ’bout brushes?”

Greg picked out a couple of nice, wide brushes, and they carried the paint and brushes back to the steps.

While Nick was stirring the sealer, Greg said, “Want to hear a joke?”

Nick lifted his brows. “You sure it’s a good one?”

“Yeah, everybody laughs. Why did the elephant paint her toenails red?”

Suppressing a groan, Nick said, “I don’t know, kid. Why did the elephant paint her toenails red?”

“Because she wanted to hide in a field of strawberries.”

Nick’s groan escaped, followed by a chuckle. “That’s pretty good. Now, how ’bout we get to work.”

Starting Greg at one end of the upper step, Nick showed the boy how to brush on the sealer without letting it drip. He started on the other end working toward the middle.

As he worked, he remembered as a kid he used to tell silly jokes. He was pretty shy, and telling a joke helped him not to feel like a dork.

“Okay, I’ve got a joke for you,” Nick said, pulling up an old groaner from deep in his memory. “Knock knock.”

Greg grinned. “Who’s there?”

“Woo.”

“Woo who?”

“Now don’t get so excited. It’s just a knock knock joke.”

Greg laughed out loud. “That’s a good one, Nick. I’m going to tell that one to Mom.”

“You do that, son.” Nick smoothed the sealer across the step. He’d like to see Alisa laugh. Her smile would light up the whole Bear Lake valley like the sun rising over the mountains.

Idly he wondered when he had stopped telling jokes and became a loner instead. Maybe when he and his dad moved away from Bear Lake.

* * *

On Friday nights, Alisa let Greg stay up later than on school nights. After he put on his pajamas, he came and plopped down on the couch next to her where she’d been trying to read a book.

“You wanna hear a joke, Mom? Nick told me a new one.”

She tensed and closed her book. “Nick told you a joke?”

“Yeah. While we were painting the steps. I think he likes me.”

Swallowing hard, she finger-brushed his hair, trying to tame the cowlicks. “Of course he likes you. Everybody likes you.”

Squirming away, he looked at her with troubled eyes. “If everybody likes me, how come my dad didn’t stick around? How come he left before I was even born?” His chin trembled ever so slightly.

“Sweetie, your father—” A man she’d come to think of as no more than a sperm donor. “—He didn’t leave because of you. He left because he didn’t want to take responsibility for anyone except himself. He was too selfish to be a good daddy. Because of that, he’s the one who missed out on seeing you grow into such a smart kid. A handsome one, too.”

Greg wrinkled his nose. “Nick is a responsible man, isn’t he? I mean, he’s fixing the steps for Mama and all.”

Mentally, she grimaced. Her son was already falling under Nick’s spell. “Greg, honey, Nick is just filling in for Jake. He’ll be gone soon. You know that.”

“Well, he might stay.” His lower lip pushed out. “If he liked it here a lot, he’d stay, wouldn’t he?”

Tears burned at the back of her eyes, and she hugged her son. “If he leaves, it won’t be because of you. I promise.” It will be because a drifter can’t stay in one place too long. It’s part of their nature.

Greg pulled away from her. “So do you want to hear the joke he told me?”

“Sure. Let me have it, munchkin.”

To her dismay, it was one of Nick’s old knock knock jokes from their grade-school days. She laughed but her heart wasn’t in it. Hadn’t the man learned anything new in the last twenty years?

And why did it hurt so much to know he and his silly jokes would be moving on soon?

* * *

Alisa had put Greg to bed nearly an hour ago. There was nothing on TV she wanted to watch. The book she’d been reading wasn’t holding her interest, and the jigsaw puzzle spread out on the kitchen table wasn’t calling her.

Mama had already retired for the night. The hum of customers downstairs had quieted to a low murmur. She could go down, see if any locals were around, join them for a cup of coffee and some conversation.

Unfortunately, she was too restless to even consider that option and it bugged her.

It was all Nick’s fault! Why on earth had he told Greg that silly knock knock joke? All it did was make her remember him as a boy eager to get the approval of his classmates. He’d already had her approval, which he hadn’t even noticed.

In spite of her best intentions, she pulled the living room curtain aside to peek outside.

He was there again, standing out beyond the end of the motel, his back to the diner, doing chin-ups on the bar stuck between two trees.

“This is ridiculous.” Grabbing a jacket from the closet, she headed downstairs. She’d find out why he was so into muscle building.

Then she’d be able to sleep without thoughts of Nick Carbini running around in her head.