Читать книгу A Place to Call Home - Kathryn Springer - Страница 10

“Is there a problem?”

Definitely more than one, Abby thought as she tried to tamp down her rising panic.

She might have been rambling on like a cruise director who’d downed a shot of espresso, but she thought she’d done a pretty good job hiding her emotions after Quinn O’Halloran introduced himself as the new carpenter. But once again the man had thrown her completely off balance.

“You can’t stay…here. I don’t know what Daniel was thinking if he told you differently.”

“Why not?” Quinn leaned against the door frame and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

Why not?

Abby wasn’t sure how to respond to the question. Was she being silly? Or worse yet, paranoid? Daniel had assured her that the carpenter he was sending over had worked with him before and came with excellent references. But having Quinn O’Halloran working on the property and having him living on the property were two different things entirely.

Over the past month, she and Daniel had settled into a pleasant routine. Abby concentrated on renovations in the main lodge while he tackled the cabins. During their lunch break, Abby coaxed Daniel to sample the results of a new recipe while the elderly carpenter entertained her with stories about small town life. His off-key whistle provided comforting background music in the late afternoon when Abby moved outside to weed the flowerbeds.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that Quinn’s presence wouldn’t be quite so comforting.

“You must have a place of your own,” she stammered.

“I live a few miles north of town, so I would have a half hour’s commute every day,” Quinn said. “Look at it this way—I can put in longer days if I’m staying on-site. Shave some time off the project. Nothing against Daniel, but I work a little faster than he does.”

“I don’t—”

“And I could use the hours.”

Abby’s protest died in her throat. Quinn’s voice had remained neutral but the subtle tightening of his jaw told her the admission had cost him. She felt a stab of guilt, knowing her hesitance had forced him to confess that he needed the extra income.

She could pay his mileage…

Just as she opened her mouth to make the offer, another thought pushed its way in.

Was it possible that Quinn was, in a roundabout way, an answer to her prayers? The grand opening was scheduled for the beginning of August but even Daniel had been skeptical they’d make the deadline. Abby planned to focus her attention for the next few weeks on the great room but several of the cabins still needed work. If Quinn finished remodeling them, she could be at capacity opening weekend.

Just because God hadn’t answered her prayer in the way she expected didn’t mean that He hadn’t answered it.

Okay, God, I’m going to assume Your hand is in this.

Abby forced a smile. “You might be ready to escape at the end of the day once you see what kind of shape the cabins are in.”

“I’ll stay until the job is finished.” Quinn’s eyes met hers. “You can count on it.”

Abby’s heart did a curious little flip and she backed away from that quicksilver gaze. Realizing her hands were clenched into fists at her side, she forced herself to relax.

Daniel, she reminded herself, was the closest thing she had to a friend in Mirror Lake. He wouldn’t have asked Quinn to take his place if he didn’t trust him. And with the grand opening looming, Daniel probably thought he’d done her a favor by suggesting that Quinn live on the grounds.

She released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Two of the cabins are finished so you can take your pick. Both have kitchenettes and full baths…”

The cell phone in her pocket interrupted, playing the dramatic opening notes of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5. A special ring tone for a bossy big brother.

Abby took it out of her pocket but instead of answering it, she shut off the sound.

“I don’t mind if you take a call,” Quinn said.

“That’s all right. I don’t mind ignoring this one.” Abby released a sigh. “My brother calls at least once a day to ask if I’ve come to my senses yet.”

“Come to your senses?”

“He’s a little overprotective.” An understatement, but at the moment Abby couldn’t come up with a better description. “He’s part of the reason I bought this place. I love my brother but he doesn’t understand that God might have a different plan for my life than the one he thinks I should follow.”

God.

The comfortable way she said the word made Quinn…uncomfortable. Sure, he believed that God existed, but if the people living in Mirror Lake were reluctant to give an O’Halloran a second chance, Quinn didn’t expect that God would, either. Especially when they’d parted company long ago.

“What does your brother think you should do?” he asked.

“Give in,” Abby muttered under her breath.

Quinn raised a questioning brow.

“We have a…family business and he wanted me to stay there.” A fascinating blush of pink tinted her ivory cheeks.

Interesting. Abby seemed reluctant to let him know just what that family business revolved around.

It seemed they both had their secrets.

“You didn’t like it,” Quinn prompted.

“I didn’t say that.”

He frowned. “Then why—”

Abby’s phone rang again. Quinn gave her points for her sense of humor. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the ominous opening notes from one of Beethoven’s most famous symphonies warned of an incoming call from Alex.

“Did I say overprotective?” Abby rolled her eyes. “I meant overbearing. And persistent. Which means I should probably get this over with or he’ll keep calling.”

And calling and calling, Quinn wanted to add. The normally unflappable Faye McAllister was still suffering from post-traumatic Porter syndrome. “Not a problem. I’ll meet you down by the cabins.”

“Thank you.” Abby’s bright smile surfaced. And lingered in his memory as Quinn left the room.

“Hi, Big Brother,” he heard her say. “And yes, you can take that in the George Orwell 1984 way that I intended it.”

As the screen door snapped shut behind him, a smile pulled at the corner of Quinn’s lips.

Alex had mentioned that he and Abby had had a falling-out when she’d left Chicago, but Quinn didn’t miss the exasperated affection in Abby’s tone when she’d described her brother. And Alex’s frustration over her decision to move to Mirror Lake hadn’t overridden his desire to look out for her, no matter how stubborn he thought she was being.

They cared about each other.

Quinn ignored a pinch of envy. That kind of family loyalty was foreign to him.

Stepping onto the deck, he almost tripped over Mulligan, asleep in a pool of sunshine. He shook his head. Abby could have chosen a more protective breed, especially given the isolated location of the inn.

Abby thought everyone deserved a second chance.

If Abby Porter lived in the real world instead of an ivory tower, she’d realize that most people didn’t share her view.

Mulligan rolled to his feet and trotted after Quinn as he crossed the lawn toward the cabins.

Home, sweet home. For the next two weeks.

Even though he’d agreed to Alex’s terms, Quinn planned to play by his own set of rules. That meant he would satisfy the job requirements by being close enough to see the main house and yet be able to keep an eye on whoever was coming and going.

And on Abby.

The ease with which he shifted back into his former role surprised him a little. A little over a year ago, he’d emptied his locker at Hamlin Security, nodded to the former colleague who’d walked him out of the building and drove away without a backward glance.

Until Alex Porter had temporarily forced him back into the business.

Two weeks, he reminded himself. For O’Halloran Security, he could put up with anything.

Even Abby Porter’s smile.

Quinn paused, silently judging the distance between the buildings before cataloging everything else around him. The lodge. The cabins. The boathouse. Even the trees. It gave him an immediate sense of what fit so he would instantly know if something didn’t.

So far, the only thing that didn’t quite fit was Abby’s reaction to him.

She got as tense as a new bowstring if he got too close.

Her bright smile and unexpected sense of humor rose easily to the surface but several times during the tour Quinn had sensed her retreating within herself. And the flash of panic in her eyes when he’d told her that he planned to stay on-site had bothered him, too. For a split second, she’d seemed…afraid.

Or he was imagining things?

At one point, Quinn had trusted his instincts about people. Not anymore. A six-month assignment working for the Raynes family had cured him of that.

Forcing thoughts of Abby aside for the moment, Quinn walked toward the cedar-sided cabin positioned closest to the house. The one with an unobstructed view of the driveway.

His foot touched the first step. And went right through it.

Perfect.

Quinn tugged his shoe free and continued the inspection. The wooden screen door sagged on its hinges and it looked as if a family of chipmunks had taken up residence in the fireplace.

He was prowling around the tiny kitchen when he heard Abby’s breathless voice. “Are you in here?”

“Yup.”

When Abby appeared in the doorway, her cheeks were flushed. Quinn wasn’t sure if it was from a run-in with Alex or because she’d run all the way from the house. No matter what the reason, she looked way too fetching for his peace of mind.

Quinn turned his attention to the fieldstone fireplace instead.

That’s right. Because you’ll really be effective looking out for Abby when you can’t even look at her.

“You’ll probably want to move into North Star Cabin,” Abby said. “Daniel finished it last week.”

Quinn had seen the sign over the door of that particular cabin and it sat on a curve of shoreline, surrounded on three sides by a fortress of mature trees. “This one will be fine.”

Abby’s eyes widened. “The windows are broken and the screens need to be replaced.”

“So?”

She laughed. Laughed. “Are you kidding? The mosquitoes will treat you like an all-you-can-eat buffet if you sleep in here.”

“I’ll install the windows this afternoon, then. I figure if I stayed in one of the cabins that needed remodeling, I’ll be motivated to get it done faster.”

Indecision skimmed through Abby’s eyes. He’d used the magic word again. Faster. The pressure to be ready in time for the grand opening would convince her to let him have his way.

Her lips compressed. “I can’t let you stay here, Mr. O’Halloran.”

Or not.

“It’s Quinn.”

“Quinn.” The color in her cheeks deepened. “What if it rains? The roof leaks.”

He could tell she was wavering.

“Clear skies predicted through the weekend. And I’ll replace the shingles on the roof after the new windows are in.”

“The new furniture is on back order. You’d have to sleep on the couch and it’s not very comfortable.”

Tell that to the chipmunks, Quinn thought. They seemed to be pretty comfortable there. “I’ve slept in worse conditions, believe me.”

The indecision on Abby’s face changed to curiosity, and Quinn mentally kicked himself. The less she knew about him the better. Granted, if she wanted to get an earful about the O’Halloran family history, all she had to do was ask some of the old-timers in town. But as far as Quinn knew, no one, not even Faye, knew what had happened while he’d been employed at Hamlin.

He planned to keep it that way. It was difficult enough to erase the stain from the name O’Halloran without bringing up the reason he’d returned to Mirror Lake after a fifteen-year absence.

“Fine.” Abby finally gave in. “I’ll make sure you have fresh linens. When will you be…moving in?”

“Today.”

“Today?” Abby’s arms locked around her stomach in a protective gesture that set off warning bells in Quinn’s head.

“If that’s all right with you,” he added, watching her body language.

Abby’s arms dropped to her sides but her fists remained clenched. “I suppose so.”

On a hunch, Quinn took a few steps back and propped a hip against the antique trestle table in the center of the room. Abby’s shoulders relaxed but the wary look in her eyes lingered.

Was she afraid of him? Or had she gotten skittish because her brother provided daily updates on the person harassing him, in an attempt to convince her to come home? Both possibilities left a bad taste in Quinn’s mouth.

“Where did Daniel leave the tools?” Quinn hoped the subtle reminder that he was going to get to work right away would put the light back in her face.

It did. But not as quickly as he’d hoped.

“He didn’t leave anything here. He probably assumed you’d use your own.”

“Right.” Because any self-respecting carpenter would use his own tools.

He’d have to stop in at the hardware store and pick up some new ones. And send Alex Porter the bill.