Читать книгу Family by Design - Roxann Delaney - Страница 7

Nick gathered what patience he had left, while his brother finished the oil change on Becca’s car. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Lowering the hood of the older model Lexus, which had seen better days, Tony looked up at him. “I figured you knew.”

“No. How could I?” He hadn’t had much sleep the night before. Learning that Becca was living in the old Watkins place had been a blow. The old Victorian house had always been a favorite of his. Since he was a kid, he had wanted it for his own, but he’d never dreamed it ever would be. Not even when he had shared his dream with Becca, all those years ago.

When the opportunity to buy the house from Mrs. Watkins had presented itself three months ago, in the midst of his decision to move his construction company from Denver to Katyville, he’d jumped at the chance. She had told him there was someone living there, and he’d had his attorney take the necessary legal steps to remedy the situation and keep the transaction anonymous by sending a notice to vacate under his corporate name to the tenant. He’d been generous, giving the tenant more than the usual amount of time to move before he would start the planned renovations on the house.

Had planned.

“She’s all ready, Nick.”

Nick jerked his head up to see Tony wiping his hands on a rag. “Send the bill to her husband,” he said and turned to leave.

“Becca’s husband? I don’t know—Hey! Where are you going?”

“I have work to do,” Nick called to him from halfway across the garage. “Have Mike deliver it as soon as he can.”

Running into Becca the night before had been a surprise he could have done without. Now that he knew her car had been taken care of, he could get back to feeling guilty about making her move with a sick baby, as if that was something he had anything to do with and as if he didn’t need to be overseeing the transition of his construction company.

“Mike is gone today,” Tony called after him. “And Travis won’t be here for another twenty minutes. You’ll have to take it yourself.”

Halfway to the bay door, Nick stopped and looked back. “Not me.”

Tony gave him a slow grin. “She still getting under your skin?”

“You’re crazy,” Nick replied and continued on his way.

“She won’t have a car if you don’t take it to her.”

Nick gritted his teeth. The last thing he wanted to do was see Becca again. He hadn’t been able to forget the come-hither look in her eyes or her sexy pout when she’d opened Raylene’s door the night before. Even knowing it hadn’t been for him and was only a joke, the thought of it still did things to him he didn’t like happening.

“Nick, she and her husband—”

“Okay!” He took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll take her car out there and Travis can pick me up as soon as he gets here.”

Fifteen minutes later, after enduring Tony’s devilish grin while he backed the car out of the garage bay, Nick slowed Becca’s car as he approached her house. His house, he reminded himself, looking for signs of life. He had driven by once to check out the house since he’d returned to Katyville, but hadn’t seen anyone outside. Too busy adjusting to the slower pace of small-town life and getting his company set up, he hadn’t inquired about his tenants. He hadn’t cared, knowing his attorney had taken care of everything. But it hadn’t been taken care of, he reminded himself. Not yet, anyway.

Determined to get this over with as soon as possible, Nick parked the car in the gravel driveway and got out, concentrating on the house and what would need to be done before he could start the renovations to bring it back to its once-glorious condition.

After a quick rap on the door, he waited, prepared to face Becca and uneasy about bringing up the subject of his ownership of the house.

The door swung open to reveal the little blond girl he had seen the night before. The spitting image of her mother, right down to the green eyes, she stood silently staring at him.

“Is your mom home?” he asked.

Her fingertip went straight to her mouth, and her wide-eyed innocence made him smile. She shook her head, sending the short, sassy ponytail she wore dancing back and forth.

He looked past her to see her older brother standing in the entryway, studying him.

“You’re the guy who helped Mom with the car last night.”

Nick nodded. “And I’ve brought her car back, all fixed again.”

The boy’s serious expression didn’t change. “Thanks.” But he seemed to be struggling with something. “My name’s Danny and this is April.”

“And I’m Nick. Nice to meet you both. And you’re welcome.” Not only had he had the flat fixed and the slow leak in the spare taken care of, but he’d also added a minor tune-up to the work order. He figured that if her husband didn’t have the sense to have it done, the guy deserved to be surprised with the bill for the work.

“Mom’s in the backyard.”

Wishing for a chance to look around inside the house, Nick thanked him, deciding it would be best to curb his curiosity until Becca knew he was now the owner. Until then, she might not appreciate him poking around.

“I can show you where,” the boy said.

“No, that’s okay. I think I can manage. And she knows I was bringing her car.”

The boy gave a stiff nod. “Close the door, April,” he told his sister.

Nick grinned as he stood staring at a door that had closed much quicker than it had opened. It was pretty clear the boy was leery of strangers. And protective of his mother.

As he walked down the steps of the broad, wraparound porch, Nick made a mental note of the repairs and materials he would need, once he could start work.

But something wasn’t right. If her husband was a stockbroker, the condition of the house sure didn’t show that he had spent time thinking about upkeep. Of course, some renters didn’t feel they needed to bother with it, and considered it the landlord’s responsibility. But what he really wanted to know was why the hell they were renting, not living in some fancy new house. And why this place?

His first reaction the night before when he had learned Becca was living here was that he would tear it down. But he had instantly known he wouldn’t let her ruin his dream. By now, Becca and her hotshot husband should have received the letter explaining the sale and the date they were to vacate. Although she hadn’t mentioned anything about moving, and he wondered why. Did she remember the plans they had made? But she couldn’t, not and live there now with her husband. She couldn’t be that heartless.

Or could she? After all, it had been ten years and—

When he turned the corner at the back of the house, he saw Becca, bringing him up short and reminding him that he would have to tell her exactly who he was—the man evicting her family.

BECCA BLEW ON HER nearly numb fingers and wished, once again, that Katyville had a Laundromat where she could sit back and read a book while her laundry tumbled until it was too hot to touch.

“There you are. I was looking for you.”

Startled by Nick’s voice, Becca dropped the shirt she was attempting to hang on the clothesline. Darn it, anyway. It figured he would show up at the worst time. Again.

His long strides brought him across the barren backyard, and he bent to retrieve the shirt from the ground. “Don’t you think this is taking fresh-smelling clothes a bit too far?” he asked, grabbing her hand and examining her fingers.

Snatching her hand away, she hid it and the other behind her back. “How would you know about fresh-smelling clothes?”

“You must’ve forgotten my Italian mother,” he answered.

Seeing that he was about as out-of-the-loop as anyone could be, she didn’t bother to tell him that she knew his mother well.

And then she did the unforgivable. She looked up and met his gaze.

His sexy, lopsided grin was all too familiar. She wished he would go away, back to Denver or anywhere besides her backyard. At least he hadn’t reminded her that the old Becca wouldn’t have been caught dead hanging clothes on a line outside, even in the best of weather.

As if he could read her thoughts, he broke the gaze holding hers. “Your car’s in the driveway,” he told her, picking two clothespins from the bag and hanging the shirt.

“You don’t need to do that.” She had the urge to shove him aside, but she knew that physical contact with him would be her undoing, so she pulled out one of Danny’s T-shirts instead and attempted to fasten it to the line with cold, trembling fingers. “And thank you for taking care of my car.”

He took a step back and crossed his arms on his broad chest, leveling his gaze on her. “How’s Daisy this morning? Any better?”

“Much better,” she answered. The baby’s fever had broken during the night, and she was breathing easier. Both of them were. There would be no trip to the emergency room this time.

He said nothing else while she finished hanging the few remaining items. When she bent to pick up the empty basket and bag of pins, he stepped forward and took them from her.

She gave him a quick smile to thank him, realizing that he wasn’t leaving immediately. “Isn’t someone here to take you back?”

“Travis should be here any minute,” he said as they walked to the house.

Just having him near set her pulse to racing, but she tried to ignore it as they stopped on the small porch leading to the back door. “There’s coffee left. Would you like a cup while you wait?”

Nick hesitated. “I’ll wait in your car, if that’s okay. It shouldn’t be long. Besides, I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea if I went inside with you.”

“Anyone?” she asked, puzzled at his scowl.

“You know, like the neighbors or…your husband.”

She knew she should tell him the truth, but she hesitated to do it. Of course, it wouldn’t make any difference to him, but she didn’t want him thinking she was a hot divorcée looking for a new man. “Still worried about gossip?” she asked, her hand on the doorknob.

“You were the one who had the problem with gossip.”

She knew it probably had seemed that way to him, but it had been more her father’s problem than hers. “I guess so,” she said, knowing better. “Living here, outside of Katyville, has made me immune to it.”

“But I’m not immune to an angry husband who might decide to take a poke at me for drinking coffee with his wife. No matter how innocent it might be.”

Struggling with whether to be truthful or not, she opened the door and set the basket and bag of clothespins he handed her inside. Turning back to him, she knew she had to and wondered how to answer. If she told him the truth, would he think it was an invitation? But if she didn’t, he was bound to find out and wonder why she hadn’t said anything. She had only lied once, and that was to him, ten years ago. This time, she owed it to him to be honest.

“There’s no husband, angry or otherwise.”

His scowl deepened. “But I thought—”

She shook her head, not knowing what else to say and definitely not wanting to go in to the details. Standing half-inside the door, she waited for him to say something.

“You’d better get inside and get that door closed,” he finally answered. “I’ll wait here or in the car.”

Relieved and disappointed at the same time, she didn’t fail to notice that he had already taken a couple of steps off the porch. “Thanks,” she said, not knowing what else to say. “And tell Tony I’ll pay for the tire repair soon.”

“Like I said last night, it’s on the house.” Either that or he would pay it. He took a few more steps away and made it to the corner of the house. “Well, nice seeing you again, Becca.”

“You, too, Nick,” she said, but he had already disappeared.

Taking a deep breath, she let herself inside. As she moved the empty basket to a corner, she pushed all thoughts of Nick from her mind. There were more important things to think about.

The sounds of cartoon characters coming from the television in the living room assured her that Danny and April were occupied, at least for a few minutes. She’d found some cold medicine and given it to Daisy only an hour ago, so she was sure the baby would sleep for a while.

Reaching into a kitchen drawer, she took an envelope and a pad of paper from under the local phone book. The old kitchen chair scraped the linoleum when she pulled it away from the table.

“There has to be a way,” she whispered as she sat and removed the legal-looking document from the envelope. If she couldn’t find an answer, she and the kids would have nowhere to live. She needed to get control of her life. She needed just a little good news, a little break. Now.

NICK DRUMMED his fingers on the steering wheel, as he waited in Becca’s car for his ride back to the garage, his anger building by the minute. For as long as he could remember, his mother had scolded him daily for his hot, Italian temper. But, dammit, why the hell hadn’t Tony told him Becca was divorced? Why hadn’t his mother? She had told him everything else that had happened in Katyville during his absence.

He couldn’t believe his luck. He was on the verge of making a dream come true. All he needed was the old Watkins place. And it was his. His. But he couldn’t very well throw Becca and her kids out. Nobody had to tell him that she was struggling. How that could be, he didn’t know. If her stockbroker husband wasn’t paying the correct child support and alimony, surely her father would. It wasn’t his job to do it. Why should he care about her? She had made it clear ten years ago that she didn’t have any feelings or use for him.

But he really didn’t have a choice. If and when his mother got wind of any of this, there’d be hell to pay. He hadn’t mentioned the old Watkins place to any of his family, except Tony, and he was sure his brother hadn’t said anything.

His frustration hadn’t eased any after waiting twenty minutes for a ride back to the garage. Where was Travis? Clouds had rolled in and the day was getting colder. Nick pulled his jacket closer, refusing to turn on the engine to run the heater.

Getting colder and grumpier by the minute, he finally gave in and walked to the house. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to see Becca until he had a plan mapped out for telling her he was her new landlord, but he for damned sure wasn’t going to freeze in the process.

This time Becca answered his knock. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she told him when he handed her the car keys. She looked past him. “Do you need me to take you back to town? I mean, I don’t see anyone…”

He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. “I was wondering if I could use your phone to call Tony. I forgot my cell phone.”

“Of course,” she said, opening the door wider to let him in. “And I wouldn’t mind that cup of coffee you offered earlier. If you still have some.”

“In the kitchen. I just made a fresh pot.”

As he followed her through the house, he took the opportunity to get a closer view of what would need to be done to the interior, once he could start on the renovations. From what he could see, the house was in excellent structural shape. Much better than he had hoped, considering he doubted Mrs. Watkins had bothered with many repairs after her husband died.

“The phone’s over there.” Becca pointed to the phone on the kitchen wall.

While she poured coffee and set the filled cups on the table, he punched in the number for the garage. After several rings, Tony answered. Nick had to bite his tongue to keep from shouting at him.

“I thought you were going to pick me up,” he said, as calmly as he could.

“Something came up. Look, Nick, it’s going to be a while.”

Nick could hear Travis talking in the background, and the voice of what he assumed was a customer. Neither sounded all that happy. “How long? Any idea?”

“Half an hour. No more. Stan Perkins is leaving on a business trip, so we don’t have any more time than that.”

Nick hadn’t been prepared to spend more than fifteen minutes in Becca’s company, but he didn’t have a choice. “I’ll see you in forty-five minutes then,” he told Tony and hung up.

“Trouble?” Becca asked.

“Tony had an emergency come up, so it looks like you’ll have to put up with me a little longer.”

“Oh.” Twin lines appeared between her eyes. “I can always run you back to town,” she said with little enthusiasm. “The kids are down for naps right now. Not that Danny takes one, but…”

It was clear to Nick that she didn’t consider him being there a lucky break. “Don’t wake the kids,” he insisted. “If I’m in the way, maybe I can—”

He had a sudden thought. He was here, in his house, with the opportunity to do some poking around. This wasn’t the time to tell her the truth. He would, though. Soon. But he could take advantage of the situation and maybe make having him around a little easier for her. “Would you mind if I look around? This old place always intrigued me as a kid.”

Her worried frown deepened, but was quickly replaced with a soft smile. “It is something special, isn’t it? I hate the thought of—” Her eyes clouded for a moment and she shook her head.

Was she remembering? Or thinking about having to leave it?

But she smiled again, even though it was weak. “I’ll give you a quick tour and show you where the best things are, if you want me to. Then you can wander all you want.”

For Nick, it was the perfect suggestion, although he didn’t see the need for the tour. “Sounds good to me. Lead the way.”

“We’ll start here in the kitchen,” she said, her cheeks coloring with pink. “I guess that’s pretty easy to figure out.”

As she pointed out some of the things that would be considered unusual for a newer house, Nick noticed that she relaxed. By the time they reached the stairs and she was showing him the hidden storage space under the staircase, he had made several mental notes about things he hadn’t been aware of.

“I’ve been in here before,” he told her.

She turned to look at him. “Really? When?”

Apparently she didn’t remember that he had told her the story when they were younger. Relieved, he looked over his shoulder, pretending to make sure no one was listening. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

She shook her head, her green eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Well,” he said, lowering his voice to a more intimate level, “when I was about nine years old, Corey Jacobs and I walked out here from town one night and pried open a window.”

Her gasp ended with a smothered, girlish giggle. “Didn’t anybody catch you? I mean, somebody would have heard you, wouldn’t they?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Watkins were away. I knew they would be because they’d had their car tuned up for a long road trip.” He smiled, remembering how scared he and Corey had been that someone would drive by and see the light from their flashlights inside the house. “Of course, it was different than it is now. They had some pretty old-fashioned furnishings in here. And the floors creak more now than they did then. But that’s easy to fix.”

Becca leaned against the wall and sighed. “I like those old creaks. I remember when Mr. Watkins was still alive and the two of them would come into town. He was such a gentleman. But even then, she was a crotchety old thing. I never could understand how the two of them managed to stay married for so long. But I guess opposites attract.”

Nick nodded, seeing the couple in his mind as they had been in his childhood. “Bill Watkins was a fine man. My dad always said he had the patience of a saint.”

Becca laughed softly. “My mom used to say Vera Watkins had the tongue of a serpent.”

But her laugh quickly faded. Nick wished it back again, but quickly chided himself. Whether Becca Malone was happy or not didn’t change anything for him. But he couldn’t help hoping to see another smile. Before he could think of something to say, he heard the phone ring.

“Go on upstairs,” she told him. “If you’re quiet, you won’t wake the kids. They’re used to me coming and going during nap time.”

She disappeared into the kitchen to answer the phone, and he quickly pulled out a notebook from his back pocket that held his notes for the house. He was constantly thinking of things he wanted to do to with the place when the time came that he could. Seeing it up close again, he knew nothing could make him destroy it, not even the memories of sharing his dream with Becca.

There were a number of repairs that needed to be made. In several places, some of the decorative molding at the ceiling had been damaged and would need fixing or replacing. And Becca might like the creaky floors, but to Nick that meant there might be some warping. At least from what he could tell, nothing had caused them to slant from settling over the years. The foundation was obviously in very good shape.

He was curious about the heating and started for the kitchen to ask Becca if she would mind if he took a look at the furnace, but as he approached the doorway into the room, he could hear her side of the phone conversation.

“Yes, I know it’s due the first of the month—today, Mrs. Watkins,” she was saying. “And I know I’ll have to pay a penalty for being late…again…Yes, I know we don’t have much time left before we have to leave. I have your letter and the notice to vacate right here…. I hope to have the money to you by the end of next week, at the latest. Perhaps if you’d give me the name of the new owner, maybe I could…Yes, I understand…goodbye.”

Nick wasn’t sure whether to walk in as if he hadn’t heard a thing or whether to try to make it back to the stairs before she reappeared. He heard the sound of papers being shuffled and then a sniff. A sliver of guilt gnawed at him, but he didn’t get a chance to deal with it. Becca came out of the kitchen with her head down and ran into him.

His arms instinctively went around her to steady her when they collided. It was the wrong thing to do.

“I—I’m so sorry,” she blurted, attempting to take a step back, but unable to do so as he held her. “I have…I’ve had some bad news.”

Torn by a sudden urge to comfort her, but knowing it would only make matters worse, Nick released her. Stepping back, he did his best to ignore the glitter of tears in her eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?” he dared to ask.

“Yes. I mean, no.” She turned around, hiding her face. Her drooping shoulders lifted, and then squared as she took a deep breath. When she faced him again, there were no tears glistening in her eyes, and she wore a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Nick. It isn’t something I feel comfortable talking about right now. Suffice it to say that Mrs. Watkins is no longer my landlady. This place has just been sold.”

He swallowed. Hard. Here was his opportunity to tell her the truth. But he couldn’t. He’d freeze, walking back to town, and she’d have to be a saint not to toss him out the door, if he told her. Not to mention that he couldn’t add to her misery. Not right now.

Becca shook her head and walked into the living room, while Nick followed. “I never would have thought she would sell this house. I didn’t know she was even thinking about doing it. In fact, I thought she was happy I’d rented it—it stood empty for a long time after she moved into Katyville. And now she’s sold it to some corporation. I don’t know why. Maybe she needed the extra income. I still pay my rent to her, but she just told me that she forwards it on to the new owner. Or owners. I suspect they’ll tear it down.”

A tiny prick of guilt stabbed at him. Hadn’t he thought of doing just that? He opened his mouth to tell her that wouldn’t happen and instantly shut it. He couldn’t let on that he knew anything about this. Saying nothing would be best, until he was prepared to tell her the truth. Lying wasn’t something he did, as a rule. His parents had taught him that truth was always the best option, and the consequences for not telling it would be a lot worse than what the truth would get him. He knew he would have to deal with the consequences of this later. When the time was right—and it definitely wasn’t right at the moment—he would find a way to tell her.

“So what does that mean for you? And the kids?” he asked, hoping she had found another place to live by now.

Sinking to the sofa, she hung her head, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. “It means we have to leave. We have until the first Monday after the New Year to pack and find a new home.”

“A little over a month then.” An easy thing for him to say, since he’d been counting down the time when the house would be empty. “Where will you move?”

She shook her head, her lips set in a thin line.

“You don’t know?” he asked in disbelief.

She shook her head again.

He felt like the world’s biggest jerk. He didn’t need the extra money, but because he preferred that the sale remain anonymous until he was ready to make it known, his lawyer had suggested that the rent continue to be sent to Mrs. Watkins, who would then send it to his attorney for deposit. He sure hadn’t counted on the tenant being someone he knew, let alone Becca. In fact, he had been in such a rush to close the deal, and so busy making arrangements to move his very lucrative construction company to Katyville, he had left everything up to his attorney.

“I don’t mean to whine to you,” she said, her voice quivering. “But you did ask.” She sniffed again, and then looked up at him with a watery smile. “I truly am sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Right. He’d worry about it enough for the both of them.

“If only we had until spring.”

But by spring, Nick hoped to have most of the interior repairs done and be ready to start on the outside. He hadn’t taken into consideration that a single mother and her three kids might be homeless because of his dream. Knowing it was Becca didn’t make it easier, no matter what she had done to him in the past. Helping her sure wasn’t a part of his plan—until now.

“Somebody’s here!” Danny shouted from upstairs, relieving Nick from commenting or having to make any rash decisions.

“It must be Travis,” Nick said, more than ready to leave.

After thanking her for the coffee and the tour of the house, he said goodbye and hurried outside to the waiting truck.

Climbing in, he slammed the door. “I have you to thank for this mess I’m in.”

Tony looked at him. “I learned a long time ago to mind my own business, so don’t blame your troubles on me.”

Nick realized he was being unreasonable and let out a long sigh. “You should’ve told me Becca was single again.”

Putting the truck in gear, Tony grunted. “Why? It wouldn’t have made any difference.”

Nick considered it and wasn’t sure his brother wasn’t right. Over the past ten years, he hadn’t grown any fonder of Becca. Not that he hadn’t thought of her. But he had always resented the way she had so casually dumped him. By the time he heard she had married, he wasn’t in the mood to wish her well. After that, he did his best to forget her. And now this had happened.

“At least I would’ve known what I was up against,” he managed to reply.

“Nick, the thorough planner,” Tony replied with a touch of disgust, as he backed the truck down the drive and onto the road.

“It’s worked well to this point.”

“Yeah? What about—” Tony pressed his lips together and shook his head.

Nick knew he was thinking of Edie, his ex-wife. “There are some things you can’t plan for,” he said.

Tony avoided looking at him as they headed for Katyville. “So what do you do when something like that happens?”

Nick shrugged, thinking of how he had handled what he called the bumps in the road. “Regroup. Find another way.” And that was exactly what he would do now.