Читать книгу Baby, Don't Go - Stephanie Bond, Stephanie Bond - Страница 8

“Okay, let’s get started,” Marcus Armstrong said to his brothers, gesturing to the current month’s schedule mounted on the wall of the trailer they’d chosen as their construction office. “We have a lot to go over.”

A country song erupted in the room. “C’mon baby, drive south,” the singer sang before Porter could get his phone out of its clip. “Hang on—it’s Nikki,” he said, then connected the call. “Hi, baby, what’s up?”

Marcus bit down on the inside of his cheek. His youngest brother had become even more woman-whipped lately because he was feeling the pressure of not yet having proposed to his girlfriend, Dr. Nikki Salinger, who had come to Sweetness and started their family clinic. Porter, who had been a tough foot soldier in the U.S. Army and taken shrapnel in Afghanistan, turned into a blob of ooze when it came to Nikki. Marcus tamped down irritation as his brother made goo-goo small talk, then finally ended the call.

“Sorry,” Porter said. “Nikki wanted to square away dinner plans. Go ahead, Marcus.”

Marcus gave him a flat smile. “Thanks. As I was saying—”

Another song erupted in the room, this one blue-grass. “Baby, come home…baby, come home,” the tenor crooned before Kendall could get to his phone. “Just a minute, that’s Amy.” He connected the call. “Hi, baby, what do you need?”

Marcus pushed his tongue into his cheek. His other brother, Kendall, had recently reunited with his first love, Amy Bradshaw, an engineer who’d returned to Sweetness to rebuild the Evermore covered bridge and, to Kendall’s surprise, had revealed the existence of their twelve-year-old son, Tony. After a bumpy start, the three were now a family, although Kendall, too, was feeling the pressure to marry and make it official.

Marcus could add his brothers to the pile of love-addled workers who strung into the men’s barracks late every night because they couldn’t bear to leave their girlfriends.

And while he was happy enough for his brothers, in the scheme of things, having the influx of women here in Sweetness had been a royal pain in his ass. Sure, they had helped to move the town forward in some areas, but overall, they were a huge distraction from getting work done, and the to-do list to meet the federal deadline in six months was still long enough to keep him awake at night. If at that time they hadn’t achieved a level of expected success in manufacturing and infrastructure, the land within the city limits and everything on it reverted back to the government and the future of Sweetness would be out of their hands.

Marcus glanced at his watch. But apparently, he was the only person concerned about yet another day getting away from them. He glared at Kendall and gestured with a rolling motion to hurry the hell up.

Kendall wrapped up the call and closed his phone. “Sorry about that. Amy wanted to firm up plans for dinner, too. We’re all eating together tonight at the boardinghouse, Marcus. Join us.”

“Yeah, join us,” Porter said.

“No, thanks,” Marcus said, less than thrilled at the idea of being the fifth wheel to their foursome… again. “And do you think the two of you could get rid of those pansy ringtones?” He gestured to the office door. “Maybe we should take the day off to look for the balls both of you seem to have misplaced.”

Porter grinned. “One of these days, brother, you’re going to meet someone who will inspire their own ringtone.”

“Someone you’ll be happy to hand your stones to,” Kendall added.

“Right,” Marcus said dryly. “That’s never gonna happen.”

Porter looked at Kendall. “Famous last words.”

Kendall made a rueful noise. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

“Can we get back to work?” Marcus barked.

Porter scoffed. “Lighten up, Marcus. We’ve made tremendous progress in the past few months. We can afford to relax a little.”

“I have to agree,” Kendall said. “The bank will be open any day now, that’s huge. Dr. Devine’s laboratory is underway, and he’s been written up in at least six national newspapers. The General Store has expanded, and now we have a pharmacy in the clinic. Our mulching business has doubled again in the last six months. The recycling plant is hiring. We’re breaking ground on the hotel today. We have a new fire truck and fire hydrants on the sidewalks my beautiful fiancée built for us.” He smiled a proud smile. “And our population is growing every month.” He pointed to the black chalk board next to the door exhibiting the number “845.”

“The hair salon is busy, too,” Porter added.

“Well, that’s a huge relief,” Marcus said dryly.

“I’m just saying that at this rate, the strip of retail stores we built will be filled in no time.”

“We have business applications now for a tax preparer, a real estate broker, a shoe store and a bakery,” Kendall added.

“Any applications for a Justice of the Peace?” Marcus asked. “Because we have to have a peacekeeper in residence before the deadline.”

“No,” Kendall said. “But Regina Watts, the recruiter who’s been helping us get word out about open positions, is working on it. The problem is, the salary we’re offering is a tad less than what the market is paying.”

“How much less?”

“The average salary for a Justice of the Peace is about fifty grand…and our budget only allows for fifty dollars. Regina’s hoping to find an attorney who’s retired…or independently wealthy.”

Marcus sighed. “Keep me posted.” He looked at Porter. “When will the church be completed?”

Porter squirmed in his chair. “The basement is finished. The building sections are supposed to be here by the end of next week.”

Kendall clapped Porter on the shoulder. “Does that mean a proposal is on the horizon?”

Porter frowned. “Nikki and I aren’t in a hurry to tie the knot.”

“Really? So you don’t mind if I mention it tonight at dinner?”

Porter’s frown deepened. “I’d rather you didn’t. Have you and Amy set a date?”

“Not yet,” Kendall admitted. “But she knows how I feel.”

Marcus grunted. “The whole damn town knows how you two fools feel—you spray-painted it all over our water tower!”

Kendall shrugged. “I couldn’t let Porter show me up. But at least I’ve already asked and gotten my answer.”

“I’m not worried about Nikki saying yes,” Porter said with a nervous little laugh.

“Then why haven’t you broken ground on your house?” Kendall asked.

“Why haven’t you broken ground on your house?” Porter retorted.

“Girls,” Marcus snapped, “can you save the chitchat for later?”

Porter straightened in his chair. “There are plenty of other couples waiting for the church to be built. The place will be stampeded.”

“Then I guess you’d better be finding us a minister, too,” Marcus said to Porter.

Porter sighed. “Okay.”

Kendall smiled into his hand. “Before the marriages get underway, we’re going to have to turn one wing of the boardinghouse into a family wing. And we need someone dedicated to managing the house. It’s getting too much for the volunteers to keep up with.”

Marcus nodded and made a note of it on his list. “What else?”

“The tourist traffic to see the covered bridge has ballooned,” Kendall added. “I see more strangers in town every day.”

“Which brings us to our most pressing problem,” Porter piped up. “The diner. We aren’t prepared to feed tourists. Or the crowd we’re expecting for Homecoming weekend.”

“Right,” Kendall said. “Plus the Department of Energy representative will be back any day for another inspection, and we need to pass with flying colors. If we could make sure there’s no food fight in the diner this time, that would be a plus.”

Porter laughed. “We’ll have to keep Colonel Molly and Rachel Hutchins at opposite ends of town.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Kendall said. “I noticed Rachel’s been hanging around Devine’s laboratory quite a bit since he moved in.”

“Much to Dr. Cross’s consternation,” Porter added.

Marcus frowned. “What does one thing have to do with the other?”

“Didn’t you know?” Porter said. “Dr. Cross has a huge crush on Rachel.”

“But he’s got to be a foot shorter than her,” Marcus said.

Kendall splayed his hands. “The man is ambitious.”

Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose. Now even he was being pulled into the soap opera the town had become. “Can we get back to the D.O.E. report? All our recycling initiatives passed on the last inspection except for the dining hall. But since then, we converted it into a bona fide restaurant, and we’re recycling ninety-five percent of the restaurant waste.”

“But the food is still terrible,” Kendall said, “and the service is lousy. They can’t handle a big crowd. Colonel Molly is impossible to work with—the waitresses don’t last long.”

Marcus frowned. “I’ll talk to her.”

“The diner stands to make or lose a lot of money as the town grows,” Porter pressed. “It needs your business know-how behind it.”

Marcus bit down on his cheek. “Let’s keep our eye on the goals for the federal deadline. In addition to a Justice of the Peace, we need to show we have adequate emergency response systems in place—fire and rescue. We have to break ground on a housing development, a jail, a library and city hall before cold weather sets in. Then we have to prepare for elections and buy polling machines.”

“We’re on track for all of those things to happen,” Kendall said calmly, making a steeple of his hands.

“But we can’t afford for anything to go wrong at this point,” Marcus said. “An explosion at the laboratory, or the discovery of something toxic where we want to put the housing development, would sink us.”

“We know, Marcus,” Kendall said. “But our first priority is still the diner. It’s the key to making everything else we have planned go smoothly.”

“So I hope you’re ready to do battle with Molly,” Porter said.

Marcus frowned. “I can handle her.” But he’d have to tread carefully—they were indebted to the retired U.S. Army colonel. She’d fed their original crew of two hundred and fifty men three meals a day for the first several months single-handedly.

Those were the days, Marcus thought. Before the women from Broadway, Michigan, had arrived, bringing with them their Northern attitudes and their endless high-maintenance demands—not the least of which was insisting the town charter include provisions that key positions be held by females, including the manager of the diner. The next thing he knew, they’d be unionized.

“Speaking of the diner,” Kendall said, “don’t forget we have a meeting this afternoon with Rachel for an update on plans for Homecoming weekend.” He arched an eyebrow at Marcus. “I understand she has lots of parties planned, so you’d better line up a date.”

“I already have a date,” Marcus said.

“Who?” they demanded.

“Mother,” he said. “Remember, she’s moving back Homecoming weekend.”

“How could we forget?” Porter asked. “She only reminds us every time she calls.”

“Amy is taking Tony down to help Mom pack a few of the heavier things,” Kendall said.

Marcus nodded. Kendall’s son was an Armstrong, through and through. Marcus loved the boy like he was his own. The thought of having a son sent a shot of longing through his loins…until he thought about having to deal with the child’s mother. Women were just too much trouble.

To confirm his point, Porter’s and Kendall’s phones started singing with their telltale “baby” ringtones.

“Are we finished?” Porter asked.

“Oh, yeah, you’re both finished, all right,” Marcus muttered as he headed toward the door. He planned to spend the morning at the recycling plant, then fish over his lunch hour…and count his lucky stars he wasn’t tied to a pesky, demanding woman.