Restoring His Heart

“I know, but in the meantime, I have payroll to meet. That job was going to give me enough financial security to breathe easy for the next year. And then there’s the Keller building.” She looked over at her father, wishing he could make it all better the way he had when she was small. But at thirty-two, her troubles were her own to battle.

Her dad laid his hand on top of hers. “I wish I could help you somehow. Your mom and I have been talking to everyone we know looking for people who would be interested in stepping up to save the old place, but no luck.”

“I know. Money is tight everywhere. I don’t blame anyone, but it’s so frustrating. If I could only have convinced Mr. Keller to sell me the building or get it listed on the Historic Registry before he died. Now it’s going up for auction in a few weeks and I’ve run out of options. Buying it myself was the only one left and now that’s off the table, too. Without the profits from the Mobile job I can’t afford to even bid on it.”

The old three-story building at the corner of Main and Peace streets downtown would make a perfect senior center once it was restored. Something she’d wanted to do for a long time. The center would provide a safe place for seniors to meet and do their crafts. It would also be a place where they could teach others the numerous skills they possessed. Crocheting. Knitting. Tole painting. Sewing. Quilting. She hated seeing the old building falling apart when it could be brought to life again and made useful. It was structurally sound and perfectly located. All it needed was some work. Okay, a lot of work, but work she was more than willing to do.

Laura stood and walked to the door leading to the hallway. “What’s taking him so long?”

“Give him time, Boo. He’ll be down soon enough.”

“And that’s another thing. I’ve got the Conrad job going on. My foreman keeps running into problems every time we open a wall or rip up a floorboard. I don’t have time to spend repairing what this poor little rich boy did. And there’s only a few weeks to restore the gazebo in time for the Founder’s Day Festival. That doesn’t give me much leeway for finding materials. Dealing with him will double the time needed to make repairs. Not to mention the mistakes that will have to be undone and the wasted lumber from incorrect measurements.”

“I can speak to your uncle Hank. He could find someone else to restore the gazebo,” her father said.

Laura whirled around. “No, I want to do it. I just wish I had someone competent to help me. Not an amateur.” She puffed out her irritation and paced the room.

“Maybe he’ll surprise you and be a quick study, or maybe he already has a few skills that will be helpful.” Her dad came and gave her a hug. “It’ll all work out, Boo. Have a little faith.”

Laura smiled at her dad. She hoped he was right this time. “So, what do you think of him?”

“Hard to say. I’ve only spoken to him briefly. I think he’s unhappy with his situation, but that’s understandable. He reminds me of your brother Ty. As I recall, you had no trouble keeping him in line.”

She smiled. “So you’re saying I can take him?”

“No doubt, but don’t get carried away. Something tells me this man has a thick wall of protection around him. With Ty you always knew where he stood. He didn’t keep his feelings hidden. I suspect Adam has kept his feelings buried most of his life. Don’t be too hard on him.” He turned and picked up his cell phone and slipped it in his pocket. “Time to get to the store. Your mother will be wondering where I am.”

“You’re leaving me here alone with this stranger?”

“I don’t think you’re in any danger. That’s one of the reasons your mom and I agreed to let him stay here. I wanted to make sure he understood that you’re my baby girl and he’d better watch his p’s and q’s.” He chuckled and started for the door. “Maybe I should have warned him about you. You’re tougher than both your brothers put together.”

Laura waved goodbye to her dad, then checked her watch again. She’d lost nearly half an hour waiting for Mr. Rich Adventurer. If he wasn’t down in ten minutes, she’d go in and drag his spoiled self out by the scruff of his neck.

She had to admit, she’d been surprised at her first glimpse of him. She tried to ignore the way his startling green eyes had made a swift but thorough assessment of her. Doubtful she could compare with the kind of women he was used to. And she felt sure he was used to taking his pick of leggy beauties.

She couldn’t blame her fellow females for falling for this guy. He had all the right stuff on the outside. His six-foot frame and thick light brown hair made him boyishly handsome.

But she preferred a man of faith. A man with character in his face and compassion in his heart.

Heavy footsteps on the stairs let her know Holbrook was finally ready. He stepped through the kitchen door and stopped, his green gaze slamming into hers. Her throat closed up and her heart skipped a couple beats. A short while ago he’d resembled James Bond fresh from saving the world. Now, he stood in the kitchen looking ready for a photo shoot for a Rugged Men of the South calendar. The gray knit Henley shirt hugged his chest and broad shoulders like an old friend and brought out the vibrant green of his eyes. The jeans called attention to his narrow waist and long powerful legs. A pair of well-worn dark boots anchored him to the floor. Apparently, adventurers needed sturdy footwear in their wardrobes.

She shook her head, trying to regain her composure. “If you’re ready, we need to get going.”

There was a half smile on his face. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Laura pushed through the back door and headed for her red truck. “I hope you’re ready to work because we have a lot to do and very little time to get it done.”

Chapter Two

Adam followed Laura Durrant to her truck and climbed in, wondering how so small a woman could command such authority. Her no-nonsense attitude was intriguing and a bit intimidating. He’d decided to be a good scout, do what he was told and get the lay of the land. Eventually he’d find a loophole, some way to get out of Dover and back to Atlanta on time. Of course there was always his last resort—calling one of his dad’s lawyers. He didn’t want to think about the repercussions of that.

He glanced over at Laura Durrant. Her slender figure was obscured by stained and faded jeans, ending in heavy brown work boots. That explained the loud thumping on the stairs. Her purple T-shirt was worn and faded, with a quarter-sized hole in one sleeve. Her head was covered with a ball cap and spikes of hair stuck out from the adjustment opening in the back and the edges over her ears. He guessed at its color. Dishwater blond? What stood out the most were her violet blue eyes. Eyes that were staring at him with disdain. She looked small behind the wheel of the big truck but absolutely in control. Which raised a lot of questions. “So, you’re in charge of the work detail, huh?”

“That’s right. You answer to me.”

“What do I call you?”

“You can call me Boss or LC.”

“I thought your name was Boo.” He saw her scowl at the name.

“My dad is the only one who calls me that. And my brother Ty sometimes. LC is the name of the company. LC Construction and Restoration.”

Adam wanted to ask what the initials stood for, but decided it might be safer to wait on that. “So how long do you think this repair job will take? How much damage did I do?”

She glanced at him briefly, eyes narrowed. “It’s not a repair job, Mr. Holbrook. It’s a restoration and that takes a lot more time.”

“Restoration. Repair. Same difference, isn’t it?”

“Not even close. The building you drove your little car into is a National Historic Landmark. Which is why I’m doing the job. If all it needed was repairing, any competent carpenter could do the work in a few days.”

“And what makes you different?”

“I’m a certified restorationist.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m qualified to restore old homes and buildings to their original state when possible. That’s what I do.”

“I didn’t know there was such a thing. How did you get to be one?” She exhaled an exasperated sigh as if reluctant to explain.

“I studied architecture in college, but I found I didn’t like the designing as much as I liked the hands-on ground-level work. When I moved home, I bought this construction company from a local man who was retiring. He did a lot of restoration work, so all I had to do was expand on that customer base.”

“Still, a girl in construction. Where did that come from?”

Laura turned and smiled, her expression softening the way it had when she’d looked at her father earlier. Something inside Adam shifted.

“Oh. My dad owns the hardware store in town. I grew up around nuts and bolts.”

She turned back to the road ahead. “So how did you come to lose control of your car and ram it into our historic gazebo?”

For a moment Adam considered avoiding the question, but then he remembered her uncle was the judge and her father his jailer. No point in trying to hide the truth. “I left a friend’s house in Dallas early yesterday morning and planned on spending a few days in New Orleans. You know, eating fine food, listening to good music, maybe do a little deep-sea fishing. I got hungry, saw a billboard for some mom-and-pop diner in Sawyers Bend—”

“Jingles.”

“What?”

“The name of the diner is Jingles.”

“Right. Well, somehow I missed the turnoff and ended up in your fair community. I was trying to find a way back to the interstate on my smartphone and the rest you know.”

“You didn’t have GPS in that fancy car of yours?”

“No, it’s a vintage machine. I was going to have it installed after my meeting in Atlanta.”

Laura Durrant pulled the truck to a stop along the fence line near the gazebo. “Too bad you didn’t have that done before you left Dallas. Might have saved everyone a lot of trouble.”

Adam scanned the area. Yellow police tape marked the site. His car had been removed and he could clearly see the gaping hole in the side of the little building. He climbed out of the cab and joined the boss lady at the back of her truck. “Where do you suppose my car is?”

“I have no idea. Impound probably. You won’t be needing it for a while.”

“No, but I’d like to see about having it repaired. I’ll have to leave here eventually.” He took the hard hat and work gloves she handed him. He tucked the gloves in the back pocket of his jeans and tried the hat on for size, pulling it off again and adjusting the band inside.

LC broke the caution tape and walked toward the damaged section of the gazebo.

“Should you be crossing that police line?”

“We’ll put up our own safety fencing.”

Up close, Adam was surprised to find the gazebo larger than he’d expected. He figured it was about twenty-four feet across. He also had a clearer picture of the damage he’d caused and he wondered if anything could be salvaged. He saw tire tracks in the dirt where he’d tried to stop, and pieces of glass were scattered around the ground from his broken windshield. A gaping hole in the brick foundation of the gazebo marked the spot where his car had come to rest. He looked upward at the roof which sagged from the loss of several broken support beams. The cupola on top tilted at a precarious angle and the decorative spindles were little more than kindling.

He glanced over at Laura, stunned to see a deep sadness in her eyes. For a moment he thought she might burst into tears. Did the old gazebo mean that much to her? He didn’t understand. It was just a small building in the center of the town.

But the sadness in her eyes made him so uncomfortable that he looked away, scanning the area. Surely the workers would show up anytime now. He was anxious to meet the real carpenters. She may own the construction company, but a woman her size couldn’t lift a can of paint by herself, let alone a two-by-four. He could, however, see her as the boss. With her hardline attitude and biting comments, he doubted any man would dare to cross her. “So when do the others arrive?”

“What others?”

“The carpenters and guys with the muscle.”

“Sorry, Holbrook, no others. Just you and me. My guys are all busy on other jobs. I can’t afford to pull them off to do this restoration.”

Adam frowned. “I wasn’t expecting it would be just the two of us.”

“I’m sure there’s going to be a lot of things you aren’t expecting.”

He stared at the small structure, rubbing his jaw. “You sure we can’t use more help?”

“It’s not that big a deal. We’ll do the woodworking and I’ll sub out the other trades.” He drew his eyebrows together. “I employ four full-time carpenters, one fabricator and a cabinet maker. The rest of the work is hired out to subcontractors. Like the brick work, electrical and drywall and tile. The mill will build the post and spindles. Any other craftsmen I need I’ll hire to do the work.”

Adam nodded in understanding and followed her to the damaged corner, watching as she stooped down and inspected the gaping hole in the brick foundation. She pulled out one crumbling brick and examined it, a look of disgust on her face. She stood and held up the partially destroyed pale red brick.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to find more of these?”

He grinned. “Can’t we run over to the local brickyard?”

She tossed the brick on the ground and glared. “That gazebo is over one hundred and thirty years old. Those bricks are handmade. I can’t walk into a store and buy more like you can replace that little car of yours.”

“That car was built in the 1960s. It’s worth ten times your little house.”

“House?” Laura set her jaw, eyes blazing.

“It’s a gazebo. It’s old. I’ll give you the money to build one twice that size with all the bells and whistles.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “First, we don’t want a bigger, better gazebo, we want this one. It’s a historic landmark. Second, I know you have no idea what you’ve done to this town or the history that you’ve destroyed, but believe me, it’s significant. Third, I’m sure paying for everything is your usual method of getting out of trouble. Well, not this time. You’re going to help me rebuild this and I can’t wait to see you sweat and break your back doing it.” She stomped off. Adam watched her go, tempted to walk out of this small insignificant town. Then he remembered the ankle bracelet.

He wouldn’t get far.

* * *

Laura worked off her irritation by pulling out the orange plastic safety fencing and the stakes to anchor it from the truck bed. She had to regain her sense of control or she’d end up with a helper who might go AWOL on her. As much as she hated to face it, she would need his upper-body strength to wield some of the beams and timbers she’d need to rebuild things. She started back toward the gazebo, her heart tightening at the sight of the wounded structure. Adam came toward her, arms extended.

“I’ll get those.” He took the cumbersome material from her grasp. “Where do you want them?”

“I want you to set up a perimeter about twelve to sixteen feet from the gazebo to give us room to work and set up the equipment we’ll need. Be sure to leave an opening so we can come and go. You’ll find a special fencepost driver tool in the back of the truck. It’s red and looks like a pipe with handles. Use that to set the posts about eight feet apart.” Adam started to move off, then turned back.

“You want exact spacing or approximate?”

“Approximate will do. I just don’t want people getting too close while we work.” Laura stapled the building permit encased in protective plastic to one post, leaving Adam to figure the mechanics of the fencing. Retrieving her electronic tablet from the truck, she started her detailed list of the materials she’d need and the specifications for the gazebo to start tracking down the lumber from the correct era.

She glanced at Adam smiling as he tugged the flimsy orange fencing between the posts. She let him struggle for a while, intending to give him some pointers, but the next time she looked, he’d gotten the hang of it. He finished his task at the same time she completed her list.

“How did I do, boss?”

The grin on his face made his eyes sparkle. “Fine. You’ll have to check it each day. It tends to sag over time.”

“What’s next? Power tools?”

“No. We have to stabilize the roof, then take all this damaged section apart.” She picked up a pair of protective goggles. “But first we need to go over a few safety rules. You will wear these when using power tools, and earplugs when running the saw. Use a waist support when we do heavy lifting and never, I repeat, never treat a power tool with anything less than the utmost respect. They aren’t toys.”

Adam nodded. “I might not understand the tools, but I do know a thing or two about safety and being cautious. I make sure my sports equipment is thoroughly checked out before I use it. I don’t take unnecessary risks.”

Laura huffed under her breath. “Yet you still risk your life for nothing more than a temporary thrill.” She turned and motioned for him to follow. “We need to support the roof before we do anything else. I’ll get the jack, you bring that four-by-six post over here.”

Laura positioned the jack in the center of the gazebo and instructed Adam how to position the heavy post to take the weight of the roof. She’d anticipated his resistance today, but so far he’d followed her every command without question. She held the post in place while Adam put his strength behind the jack, pumping the handle. She glanced down at him, surprised to see him watching the upward movement of the beam closely as he worked. She also was suddenly aware of the muscles in his arms and the way the fabric of his shirt strained across his shoulders as he moved.

“Is that enough?”

Laura jerked her attention back to the beam. It was touching under the center of the roof but not firmly enough. “Another inch should do it.” Satisfied, she stepped back, watching as Adam rose to his full height and placed his hand on the beam.

“Will this one piece of wood hold up this whole building?”

She swallowed and took a step back. “It’s only a temporary fix until we can assess the damage to the rafters and make the repairs.”

“Okay.” He smiled. “What’s next?”

Laura searched her mind for the next task she wanted him to do, but her thoughts were muddled with things she rarely thought about. Like how strong Adam was, and how small she felt beside him. He made her aware that she was very female and he was so male. She forced herself to focus on the work. “We need to start stacking the loose bricks over there out of the way. We’ll reuse the ones that aren’t too damaged. Make a pallet out of scrap lumber and stack them on that. It’ll keep them from sinking into the ground. I need to make some phone calls.”

Without waiting for his response, she walked to her truck and climbed inside. She needed time to think and space away from Adam Holbrook. He reminded her a little too much of her ex-husband, Ted—concerned with his own life with never a thought to anyone else and no appreciation for anything of value. She closed her eyes and offered up a prayer for tolerance and forgiveness. It didn’t matter what Holbrook was like. All she needed was for him to help her get the gazebo restored in time for the festival and then he could go on about his merry way.

* * *

Adam pried the last loose brick from the foundation and stacked it with the others. He was hot, sweaty and his back ached. He had no idea dismantling the little building would be such hard work. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of his new boss. It was obvious she loved what she did. To him, the debris looked like so much broken wood. To her, each piece was a special handcrafted treasure.

Adam leaned against the side of the gazebo, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. Reaching down, he took a bottle of water from the small cooler she kept nearby. His gaze traveled around the square inventorying the rows of businesses. The usual stuff. Couple of banks. A diner. Pizza place. Antique shop. Drug store. Hardware store. Her daddy’s store? He smiled. Daddy could keep an eye on his little girl all day long from his store. Interesting. The damaged gazebo. A daughter in construction. A father willing to help out to keep her safe. Normally he would scoff at such behavior, but having met her father, and her, he could hardly blame Tom Durrant for wanting to keep watch. He found it a bit old-fashioned but sweet.

Laura had made it clear she thought he was incapable of doing anything without assistance. He was looking forward to proving her wrong. How hard could swinging a hammer be? He finished his water and tossed it into the trash can just outside the orange fence.

Laura came toward him from the truck, slipping her cell phone into the small holster on her hip. “Okay, I found brick down in Long Beach, left over from a Katrina salvage. They’re shipping it up. Should be here by Tuesday.”

She stared at him expectantly, as if he should grasp the significance of her words. The excitement in her expression lit up her violet blue eyes. He’d never seen a color like that before. Nor had he realized how the hard hat made her features appear delicate and fragile. But Adam knew better. There was nothing fragile about this lady. He blinked. She was waiting for some reaction from him. “Is that good?”

“More than good. But replacing that foundation will take time.”

“Is time a big deal?”

“Yes, it is. We’re having our annual Founder’s Day Festival at the end of the month and this ‘little house’ is the centerpiece. If this gazebo is unusable for the festival it’ll be like Christmas without a tree. It’s that important.” She sighed and pulled on her gloves. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, captivated by her passion for the little structure. Her eyes flashed like a summer storm, her cheeks flushed, turning her violet eyes to deep purple. He forced his mind back to the job at hand. “What now, boss?”

She pointed to the broken railing. “Start pulling that apart and stack it over there. Keep all the like pieces together. We’ll have to use them as templates later. Don’t throw anything away unless I okay it.”

“So you’re going to recycle all this? Saving the planet and all that?”

“In a way. All this lumber is original. I want to keep as much of it as possible not only for the historic value, but to keep the historic designation, too. The structure has to be comprised of a certain percentage of original materials to be on the registry.”

Adam worked a spindle loose from the splintered floor board. His gaze drifted toward Laura again. She moved like a little dynamo, never still. Even when she was on the phone, which was frequently, she paced. He’d seen her sitting on the tailgate of the truck once when she was studying her tablet, but she hadn’t sat there long. It was easy to see why her business was a success. She worked hard and with passion.

“Good morning.”

Adam turned and looked over his shoulder. A man a few years older than he was standing near the orange fencing, a warm, friendly smile on his face. He studied the gazebo intently, while slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Adam braced himself for some nasty comments. Several locals had drifted past this morning, but all they’d done was scowl. Sooner or later he’d known the words would start to fly.

The man nodded toward him. “You the man responsible for this damage?”

Adam stood and faced the man. “I am.”

The man’s smile widened. “It’s nice to meet an honest and forthright man.” He stepped forward and extended his hand. “Jim Barrett. You must be Adam Holbrook.”

The man’s handshake was firm and steady, his smile and friendly tone took any condemnation out of the words. “I seem to have acquired a reputation overnight. Literally.”

“So you have. But because you’re working to make things right, the good folks of Dover will forgive you soon enough. Provided it’s finished in time for the big festival.”