Читать книгу Restoring His Heart - Lorraine Beatty - Страница 11

Chapter Three

Laura Durrant pulled the truck to a stop in her parents driveway, keeping her eyes straight ahead. Adam reached for the door handle at the same time she started to talk. “We got a lot done today. I couldn’t have gotten this far without your help. Thanks, Holbrook, for being so cooperative.”

She braved a look in his direction. One corner of his mouth was hooked up into a grin.

“That wasn’t cooperation. That was fear. You scare me.”

A chuckle escaped her throat. “I doubt anything scares a man who can swim with sharks and run with the bulls.”

He leaned forward slightly to look at her. “How did you know about that?”

Warmth infused her cheeks and she shrugged to hide her discomfort. “I looked you up on the internet.” Now he would think she was interested in him. No way.

Adam sighed and shook his head. “Ah. A man can’t have any secrets anymore.” He started to get out of the truck, but when she didn’t move he glanced back at her. “Aren’t you coming in?”

“No. I need to check on my other jobs.” Gripping the steering wheel, she gathered courage. “Holbrook, I want to apologize to you.”

“For what?”

“I shouldn’t have said those things to you—about you being selfish. That was unkind and judgmental. You worked hard today and you didn’t deserve my nasty comments. I’m sorry.”

It was clear from his expression her apology had caught him by surprise. He held her gaze a long moment then rubbed his forehead. “It’s all right. You weren’t wrong. You hit the nail square on the head.”

Remorse flooded her conscience. “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. As a matter of fact, it’s nice to hear the truth for a change.”

It’s not what she’d expected him to say. “What do you mean?”

“Most people I know tell me what they think I want to hear. They don’t want to offend the hand that drives the adventure train.”

She’d never thought about that side of things. It must have cost him to admit that. What would it be like to know people didn’t really care about you, only what you could do for them? “I’m sorry, Adam. I have a bad habit of speaking my mind. It was one of the things my...some people don’t like about me.” He smiled over at her, causing a small skip in her heartbeat.

“Really? I think it’s one of your more interesting qualities.” He climbed out of the truck, offering a little salute before shutting the door. She waited while he took the steps to the back porch before backing out of the driveway. Every time she thought she had the guy figured out, he threw her a curve. No one liked her forthright attitude. Why did he?

* * *

Adam knew Laura was watching him as he climbed the back steps to her parents’ home. She probably wanted to make sure he didn’t bolt. Or else she was feeling sorry for him. He hadn’t intended to speak the truth but something about Laura made him want to. He was glad to be away from her penetrating assessment.

He reached for the door knob and hesitated.

But he wasn’t sure he wanted to be back at the Durrants’ either.

Adam grew uneasy at having to walk back into the Durrants’ home. Since coming to Dover, nothing he’d experienced was familiar. He didn’t like that. He pushed open the back door, stepped into the kitchen and froze.

The air was warm with rich delectable aromas. A woman he’d never seen before stood at the stove. For a second he wondered if he’d returned to the wrong house.

“Oh, hello, Adam. I’m Angie Durrant. Sorry I wasn’t here this morning to greet you, but Tom thought it might be more comfortable for you with only him. Sort of a man-to-man thing.”

Adam stared at the scene in front of him, trying to process it all. Mrs. Durrant was an older version of her daughter. Slender with short dark blond hair turning gray. Her smile was like her daughter’s, as well. It lit up her eyes.

“Oh, don’t forget to call the station. Use that phone over there. The number is beside it.”

Her thoughtfulness caught him off guard. She’d actually tried to make things easy for him, acting as if she cared about what happened to him. He moved across the kitchen to the desk, noticing the table was set with colorful dishes and bright placemats. This wasn’t normal. He placed his call, then turned back to Mrs. Durrant.

“I hope you’re hungry.”

His stomach answered for him. “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

“Good. You have time to clean up if you’d like. Tom will be here in about twenty minutes. Come on down when you’re ready.”

Fifteen minutes later Adam returned downstairs certain he’d been mistaken about the warm welcome to find only one thing had changed. Tom Durrant was home. They sat down at the table, and after Mr. Durrant had offered the blessing Mrs. Durrant passed the food. He’d never tasted anything so good. Tuna casserole, she’d said. Nothing fancy. But it was definitely on par with some of the haute cuisine he’d tasted in his travels. The conversation revolved around various events in Dover. He answered questions put to him, but offered nothing more. He made his escape as soon as he could without appearing rude, explaining he was tired from the day’s work.

In his room he stretched out on the bed, every muscle in his body protesting the abuse he’d given them today. He tried to watch television, but couldn’t concentrate. He wanted to sleep, but he was too tired. If only he could get this situation sorted out, find some solid ground to stand on and get through the month. Trouble was, he had no frame of reference. No experience with family and home-cooked meals. How was he supposed to behave here? What did they expect from him? He didn’t know how to talk to these people. He’d never talked to his parents. They were never around.

A knock on the door brought him to his feet. He opened it to a smiling Tom Durrant holding a book in his hand. “I forgot to mention that we’ll all be going to church in the morning. It’s important that you attend.” He handed the book to Adam. It was the Holy Bible. “Thought you might need one. This belonged to my younger son, Ty.”

“Mr. Durrant, I appreciate what you’re doing here—letting me stay with you instead of in the jail—but you don’t have to go to any trouble on my account.”

“Call me Tom. And I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Eating together, fixing big meals, all that. I can take my meals up here. It’s not a problem.”

Tom frowned. “We’re not doing anything differently, Adam. We always have our meals together. Always have. That’s what families do. Service is at ten-thirty. Good night.”

Adam shut the door, thinking of all the places he’d rather be than with the Durrants in Dover. Bible stuff. He fingered the worn leather cover, an odd tension swirling deep in his gut. It had been a long time since he’d looked at the words inside. A friend in college had led him to the Lord and for the first time in his life he’d felt as if he belonged someplace. He was loved and accepted for who he was. Someone—God—cared what happened to him and had a plan for his life.

Then he’d gone back home. His parents dismissed his newfound faith as a fad that he would hopefully get over. And he had in a way. He’d tried to find a church to attend, but the arguments with his father had escalated. When Adam had declared his intention to live his life in his own way, and refused to go to work at Holbrook Electronics, his father had retaliated by disowning him and placing a restrictive condition on his trust fund that demanded his appearance each year to collect. His father’s way of keeping him in line and making him see the error of his ways.

His faith had taken a backseat to his troubles and he’d drifted. But lately he’d sensed the Lord tapping his shoulder, trying to get his attention. Maybe that’s why he’d ended up here in Dover.

* * *

Laura ended the call to her foreman, Shaw McKinney, and smiled. So far everything was on track with her other jobs. She hoped she would be as blessed with the gazebo project. The last thing she needed was another job. Her schedule was full and teetering on a wobbly budget. She should be helping on the Conrad place or pushing her attorney to settle the Mobile mess. Instead, she’d be spending the next four weeks tracking down two-hundred-year-old timber to replace the damaged wood. The Dover gazebo was one of the few historic buildings in town that was absolutely pristine. The only changes made over the years had been the addition of electricity, which had been upgraded for safety reasons a decade ago. Only the most minor repairs had been necessary. Until Adam Holbrook had come to town.

Pouring a glass of sweet tea, she called for her little dog, Drywall, to follow her out onto the front porch of her house. She settled into the old glider, inhaling the pungent fall air and letting her gaze drift to the small buds that were starting to form on the winter camellia bush at the edge of her porch.

Adam Holbrook hadn’t behaved like she’d expected him to. She’d been prepared to prod, threaten and argue about everything she asked him to do. Instead he’d been cooperative and helpful. His reaction to her apology had thrown her a curve, as well. She’d expected him to say something smart, to defend his lifestyle. Instead he coolly acknowledged her comments as truth.

She couldn’t figure him out. But it was only the first day. Sooner or later he’d show his true colors and balk at the work. It was all new and exciting to him now, like one of his wild adventures. She doubted he had the staying power or the attention span. He’d grow bored and then she’d be working alone. She felt sure he was incapable of any kind of commitment.

She scratched behind Wally’s ears. And yet, there was something about him that hinted at another man beneath his polished exterior. Someone nice. No. She was simply tired and irritated, building castles in the sky, and it was time to go to bed. There was nothing worthwhile about Adam Holbrook.

* * *

The knot of tension in Adam’s gut tightened as he followed Tom Durrant down the aisle and into a pew midway in the sanctuary the next morning. It had been years since he’d been to church, other than a wedding or a funeral. The Bible in his hand felt heavy and awkward. He could sense the eyes of the congregation on his back, and he was thankful when they finally took their seats.

Adam glanced down at his khaki pants, relieved to see most of the congregation dressed casually. But it was more than his outward appearance that made him edgy. Inwardly he wasn’t prepared to sit in God’s house. He allowed his gaze to travel around the old church, struck by the eerie familiarity of the place. With its stained-glass windows, carved wood moldings and massive pipe organ, it reminded him of the church he’d attended in college. Strange that he’d find one so similar here in Dover.

Mrs. Durrant stopped at the pew, Adam stood and stepped into the aisle to let her in to sit beside her husband. He took his seat again only to feel a tap on his shoulder a few moments later. He looked up to find a lovely young woman smiling at him. With a shock he realized it was Laura Durrant. She gestured for him to scoot over to allow her to join them. He’d lost his voice. He realized it was the first time he’d seen her without either her baseball cap or hard hat. The hair he’d guessed to be dishwater blond was in reality a rich honey brown with amber highlights. It hung in soft waves, caressing her neck and shoulders like fine silk. The flowing black-and-white skirt flirted around her calves. The white top gently skimmed her curves, something the loose-fitting T-shirts never did. Her violet eyes were wide with thick lashes. The graceful line of her jaw was the perfect frame for soft lips and a tilted nose.

Until now, he’d only seen the stern, no-nonsense contractor. There’d been glimpses of her softer side, but it had been hidden behind her tool belt and power tools. He looked at her again, unable to take his eyes off her.

She frowned at him in disapproval. “What?”

“You look nice.”

She blushed and faced forward.

He groaned inwardly. Brilliant. What a dumb thing to tell a woman. When the music started, he sent up a grateful prayer. He needed a distraction. More important, he needed to hear what was said here today. He’d been away from his faith too long. The liturgy unfolded in a welcome and familiar way, creating a deep ache in his chest. Pastor Jim’s words hit their mark in his spirit as he spoke of the rich young man who asked how to gain eternal life, but when told he had to give up his possessions and follow the Lord, had turned away.

The story could have been his own. He’d found his faith, but once away from the campus and out in the real world, he’d drifted away. Now, he felt an overpowering need to reconnect and restore the faith he’d been ignoring.

* * *

Laura stood when the pastor called for prayer, uncomfortably aware of Adam Holbrook beside her. Dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt and khaki pants he didn’t look much different from the other men in the church. And yet, he did. The white shirt highlighted his deep tan, reminding her that he spent a lot of time outdoors. There was a crisp, clean look to him today that was ridiculously attractive and appealing. Each time she inhaled she drew in the tangy scent of his aftershave. She was grateful when the music started. She was in church to worship. Not admire a man. Her voice faltered, however, when she heard Adam join in the praise song. He didn’t sing loudly, but he knew the words and he had a nice singing voice. A rich baritone that flowed over her senses like warm honey.

Her mind churned with questions. She hadn’t expected him to know anything about church, but he focused intently on the service, never taking his eyes from the pastor. She breathed a sigh of relief when the service ended. She needed to put some distance between herself and her new saw boy.

As the congregation started to file out, her father reached over and touched her arm.

“Will you take Adam to the house? Your mom and I need to meet with the worship committee chairman for a few minutes. We won’t be long.”

Laura nodded, hiding her reluctance behind a smile. She glanced up at Adam to find him smiling down at her. She searched for something to say. “You have a nice singing voice.”

He chuckled softly. “You didn’t think I’d know how to behave in a church, did you?”

“No, that’s not true.”

Adam leaned down and spoke softly into her ear. “It’s not nice to lie in church, Boo.”

Her cheeks flamed. She opened her mouth to deny it, but remembered his comment about people telling him what he wanted to hear. “No, I didn’t.”

Adam chuckled deep in his throat. “I’m a believer, Laura, just not a very faithful one.” They stepped into the aisle, Adam placed his hand lightly on her back and they made their way to the door. “I had a friend in college who brought me to the Lord. I was pretty active for several years.”

“What happened?”

“I graduated.”

She started to ask more questions, but they’d reached the door and the waiting pastor. She shook Jim’s hand and moved through the doorway, waiting for Adam. He stood in front of the pastor a long moment. Jim nodded a couple of times, then smiled. Adam joined her, a thoughtful look on his face. He looked down at her, his gaze probing and slightly amused. Her heart quickened. Suddenly, being this close to Adam Holbrook was not a good idea. She turned and hurried to the truck.

* * *

Adam eased back out of the Durrants’ crowded kitchen and found a spot in the adjoining family room where he’d be out of the way. The aroma of roast beef and steaming vegetables sent his taste buds into overdrive. All his other senses were being bombarded, as well. From the moment he’d stepped into the Durrant home after church, the house had been buzzing with activity. Laura had stopped by the gazebo to check on things before going on to her parents’ house. He’d found it distracting, trying to reconcile the woman he’d worked with yesterday with the lovely woman who’d sat beside him in church. Being in the close confines of the truck cab had only highlighted the difference. A difference that made him curious about this new side of Laura Durrant.

Angie Durrant caught his eyes and smiled. “Adam, could you come and give us a hand?” He swallowed the knot of unease in his throat but obeyed. Laura handed him a potato peeler and a spud when he joined her at the large center island. He stared down at the items in his hands. He’d peeled a potato. Once. He heard Laura chuckle and glanced over at her. Her violet eyes were sparkling with amusement.

“Like this.” She demonstrated the technique quickly and handed the items back to him. “Then cut them into pieces and drop them into the pot on the stove.”

He did as he was told, but when he put his pieces of potato in the pot, they didn’t look the same. He turned to Laura to inquire, but she was hurrying from the room.

“Matt and Shelby are here, Mom.”

He searched his memory. Matt. The oldest brother who was getting married to his former sweetheart. Angie Durrant wiped her hands on a towel and hurried to the hallway. Adam sought out his little corner in the family room. No need to intrude on family time.

Before he could take a few steps, the women were back, forcing him to stop and get caught up in the moment.

Mrs. Durrant touched his arm gently and smiled at the tall man who came into the kitchen. “Adam, this is our oldest son, Matt. Matt, our houseguest, Adam Holbrook.”

Houseguest? He appreciated her not spelling out his situation. Matt extended his hand and shook Adam’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

He resembled a younger version of Tom.

“And this is his soon-to-be wife, Shelby Russell.”

The elegant brunette smiled, but didn’t shake his hand because her hands were full of a pie and a basket.

“Hello. Could I get you to take one of these, please?”

Adam relieved her of the pie, setting it down on the only clear spot in the kitchen.

He turned around to find a little boy staring up at him. He had green eyes, sandy hair and a nose full of freckles. “Hello.”

“My name is Kenny. What’s your name?”

“Adam.”

“Like in the Bible.” Kenny frowned and wrinkled his nose. “There aren’t any Kennys in the Bible.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of any,” Adam admitted.

“Are you the man who broke the gazebo?”

Adam’s felt a rush of embarrassment warm his face.

“Kenny.”

Adam glanced over at the boy’s father, who looked as embarrassed as he felt. No sense in trying to hide his guilt. “Yes, I am. I wasn’t paying attention and I wrecked it with my car.”

Kenny looked up at him with sympathetic eyes. “Sometimes I don’t pay attention. I get in trouble a lot. But it’s okay because my daddy loves me anyway. That’s what daddies do.”

A large knot formed in the center of Adam’s chest. It was hard to find his voice. Not all daddies. “That’s good.”

A young girl joined the boy. “Hi, I’m Cassidy. Aunt Laura is helping you fix the gazebo, right?”

“She is.”

“Good, because we like to hang out there a lot and now we can’t.”

Shelby Russell came and steered the children to the other room with instructions to set the table.

Adam glanced around the kitchen. Everyone was going about their business, not paying any attention to him at all. Suddenly, he wanted out. Away from all the warm and cozy nonsense. He tried to battle his impulse to flee. He wanted to go to his room to sort things out, but to do so would be rude. He took a step backward, seeking distance. Everyone seemed happy, even joyful. It couldn’t be real. Did every happy family act this way?

Angie Durrant caught his attention, motioning him to the kitchen. She handed him the bowl of rice and smiled. “Go put that on the table then tell the boys we’re ready to eat.”

He nodded, wondering for the tenth time how he ended up here. He’d never felt so out of place, so awkward, in his whole life.

Were they trying to rehabilitate him? Were they trying to make him feel the burden of his damaging their landmark? Or was it money? Did they think he would compensate them later for their kindness? The thought immediately filled him with shame. These people weren’t like the ones he normally associated with. The Durrants were people he had little exposure to.

Adam placed the bowl, then moved slowly into the family room. The guys were focused on the Saints football game. “Food’s ready.”

Matt turned and smiled. “’Bout time. I’m starving.” He punched his dad playfully in the arm. “Chow.”

Tom stood and tapped his grandson, Kenny, on the head. “Come on, kiddo.”

Adam followed them into the dining room, a strange tightness in the center of his chest as he watched the family come together. Laura smiled and motioned him to the seat beside her.

He asked himself again if what he was seeing was real. Probably not. They were all on their best behavior for his sake. Trying to put on a show. The way his parents did whenever they came home. Once a year his mother would parade out her best china and invite the crowd. They’d all smile, put on a display of family happiness, then the next morning, they’d all go their separate ways.