Sweet Home Colorado

“Now, what needs to be done up here?” she asked, heading to the second floor.

Jack caught her seconds before she put her foot though a broken board. “For a start, I replace some of these treads. I’ll show you which ones to avoid.”

“I’m impressed you can pick them out. They all look the same to me.”

Ignoring her compliment, he said, “I can put through an order for some oak tomorrow.”

Grace smiled. “You can really start that soon?”

“Provided you’re happy with my estimate, I can start on this first thing in the morning. At least make it safe to climb the stairs without breaking your neck.”

Grace frowned and said, “I guess I should talk about stress management. I don’t want you to work so hard you’ll end up feeling too stressed to finish the job.”

Deep in his heart, Jack knew he couldn’t walk out on Grace, couldn’t leave her and this magnificent house in the hands of another contractor. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’ll be an honor to work on a place like this.”

They took the last step onto the top landing. “Keep away from the railing. It’s loose,” he warned before they made their way toward the master bedroom.

* * *

GRACE STEPPED INTO her parents’ old bedroom but wasn’t prepared for the memories that assailed her. Aunt Missy had given up her beautiful bedroom with the view of the town for Grace’s parents to use. And they’d rewarded her by duping her out of her money. She turned away.

“You’ll want to talk to an interior designer,” he suggested.

“You don’t do that yourself?”

He shook his head. “No, I only perform miracles on the house itself. I know how I’d decorate, but I recommend consulting a professional.”

Grace nodded, impressed with Jack’s professionalism and attention to detail as she watched him make notes in a booklet.

“Now, the roof,” he said. “The insulation—what’s left of it—should be replaced. And although the slates seem to be in pretty good condition, I noticed stains on the ceiling, which means water’s getting in. I’ll have a roofing contractor take a look.”

He made another note in the booklet, tore out the page and handed it to her. “This is the number of an interior designer I’ve worked with before. Get her out here as soon as you can. Feel free to use my name if you have to.”

Grace took the proffered paper. “I’ll see if she can meet me here tomorrow morning.”

“That might be pushing it, but I’ll mark the loose steps as we go out, in case she comes when I’m not here.”

“Thank you. That’s very thoughtful.” She followed him down the hallway and paused at the top of the stairs while Jack bent and marked each unsafe step with a piece of chalk.

“Careful,” he cautioned as he reached to take her hand. “It’s darker than when we came in. I’ll get the power connected tomorrow.”

He glanced at his watch. “How about if you go to the pharmacy while I finish measuring?”

“I’m on my way.”

* * *

GRACE RETURNED TO the house thirty minutes later. Jack was sitting on the front porch, once more scribbling in his notebook. The way he bent his head, the book resting on his forearm, brought back memories of him at school, struggling to read a passage in class.

She knew he hated having to read out loud or do oral presentations. Some of the kids had laughed at him when he stumbled over the words. She’d guessed he was dyslexic and felt some of his pain. Grace knew what it was like to be different. She’d hush the other kids, turning to glare at them, surprised when they’d complied. After that, she’d volunteered for peer tutoring.

Jack got up and walked over to meet her as she climbed out of her rental. She handed him the pharmacy bag, saying, “The instructions for use are on the package. Stop the orange juice and I’ll check your progress in the morning.”

Jack pulled out his wallet, but she stopped him. “It’s on me. Consider it gratitude for agreeing to this project on such short notice.”

Jack glanced at his watch again, leaving Grace with the uncomfortable feeling that he had better things to do than spend time with her. “I’ve got a dinner engagement, so I should go,” he said. “If there’s nothing more you need to discuss tonight, I’ll head out.”

Sorry he had a date and miffed that he hadn’t asked her out instead—although why should he, given their history?—Grace shuddered at the sense of melancholy she felt. She hated this time of day between dusk and dark. She didn’t like being alone then.

After the divorce, the friends she thought she could count on were more faithful to Edward than to her. Understandable since most of them had been his friends first. He’d kept her so isolated, she’d had little chance to cultivate true friendships for herself. She knew no one outside the medical world apart from her hairdresser and Pilates instructor. How pathetic is that? she thought.

“You okay?” he asked, his eyes reflecting his concern.

Grace forced a smile. “Just tired. It’s been a hell of a week. I need to check into my hotel in Silver Springs, take a long, hot shower and crawl into bed.”

“I’ll get that window repaired and new locks put on all the doors tomorrow, too.”

“Thank you for agreeing to renovate this house, Jack,” she said. “I really appreciate that you made room for me in your schedule.”

“I aim to please.” He began to walk to his truck, then paused and turned back. “If you don’t have any plans, would you like to come to dinner at the ranch tonight? Mom won’t mind another mouth to feed. I’m sure my folks would love to see you.”

Taken aback by the unexpected invitation, and the implication that there was neither wife nor girlfriend in the picture, Grace could only stumble over her words. “Er, no, not tonight, Jack, thanks.” She covered an exaggerated yawn. “As I said, I’ve got some sleep to catch up on, and calls to make.” She held up the slip of paper he’d given her.

“See you tomorrow, then,” he said. “And don’t forget, come dressed to work, not to party.”

He gave Grace a long look that took in her too-short dress and left those welcome tingles racing up and down her spine.

* * *

“DUMB, JACK, DUMB!” He hit the wheel and berated himself as he drove down Lincoln and turned onto Main. What was he thinking, inviting Grace to dinner with the family? Now she’d know there wasn’t a girlfriend in the picture. He almost wished he did have a significant other in his life, just to show Grace he’d moved on, forgotten about her. But that would be a complete lie.

He wondered what had really brought her back to Spruce Lake, since she’d made her career such an important part of her life. So important that she’d left Spruce Lake—and him—without a backward glance.

But most of all, he wondered why she was no longer married.

Chapter Four

When Jack arrived at Two Elk, the family ranch, that evening, the front yard was already crowded with his brothers’ vehicles.

The babies and toddlers would all be tucked into beds and travel cots, in a first-floor bedroom. The older kids would be watching TV or playing games somewhere in the big house.

Inside he found Will and Becky’s son, Nick, and Carly and Adam’s boys playing a video game in the living room. “Hi, guys,” he greeted them, and got grunts in return. They were all enthralled with their game and allowing themselves to be sidetracked would mean they could lose.

“Hi, Uncle Jack!” Luke’s daughter Daisy called as she breezed through the room, followed by the clatter of feet on the stairs as her sister Celeste raced down to greet him.

“We’ve been waitin’ ages ’n’ ages for you!” Celeste told him. “Daddy says you’ve got a girlfriend.”

Hoo, boy! The O’Malley telegraph was fully operational. He could picture it now—his parents and all his brothers and their wives lying in wait for him around the kitchen table.

He pushed open the kitchen door and saw that the situation was exactly as he’d suspected. Conversation ceased and eleven pairs of eyes swiveled in his direction. Even his nephew, Cody—who at seventeen was old enough to join the adults—was staring at him.

His mom looked at him expectantly. She leaned sideways a little as if to see whether anyone was following him.

“Hi, Mom. Sorry I’m late,” he said as he crossed the room and bent to kiss her cheek. He should have brought flowers; they might have distracted her for a whole millisecond.

“Pop.” He shook his father’s hand, then made the rounds, exchanging kisses and handshakes.

They all sat down and looked at Jack.

After a full five seconds of silence, Will asked, “So where’s Grace?”

“At her hotel.” Jack glared at Adam. No secret was safe with an O’Malley.

“You should’ve invited her to dinner, dear,” Sarah said, her voice filled with disappointment. “I made extra.”

“Mom. Everybody,” he said, looking at each relative in turn. “As you’re no doubt aware, Grace is back in town. I’ve agreed to renovate the house she bought from her aunt Missy. End of conversation.” He snatched up a bread roll and tore it in two. “I’m starving, Mom. What’s for dinner?”

“That’s it?” Sarah said as she placed bowls of fluffy mashed potatoes on the table, along with a huge salad. His father got up to carve a roast. Pop loved roast.

Sarah took her seat at the other end of the table. “That’s it?” she asked again. “You’re not going to pick up where you two left off?”

“Mom! Please.” He softened his tone, seeing the hurt in his mother’s eyes. “She just got back here. I need to come to terms with that.” He passed a plate loaded with slices of roast beef down the table.

“He’s got a point,” Matt, who was the county sheriff, said. “Grace Saunders broke my little brother’s heart. I might go arrest her and throw her in jail until she makes a full confession of her sins.”

“You just made a joke,” Will observed. “A pathetic one, but it’s not bad for you, big brother.”

Everyone knew that Matt took life way too seriously, in free-spirited Will’s opinion. “So where’s she staying?” Will asked. “I’ll ride shotgun.”

“This is not the Wild West anymore,” Will’s wife, Becky, admonished. “But, if you’d like, I could beat her to a pulp with my interrogation tactics. Find out why she left a great guy like you. And why she really came back to Spruce Lake.”

Jack smiled at Becky. She wasn’t known for joking, either. “I appreciate your loyalty, but the truth is, she really has come back to renovate Missy Saunders’s Victorian.”

“And then she’s going to flip it,” Adam said with conviction as he piled mashed potatoes onto his plate.

“Grace is renovating it to save it from further ruin. She won’t be selling it. The house has to stay in the family.”

He turned his gaze back to Adam. “Have you remembered who Mike is yet?” he asked, then muttered, “Traitor,” under his breath.

Carly grinned and said, “Jack, there’s really no hurry to start building our house. For the moment, I’d prefer to stay closer to the hospital. And town. If Adam was on duty and I went into labor, at least he’d be close by.”

“Not that he’d be any use,” Luke, their oldest brother, said.

“Eat, everyone!” Sarah instructed. “Before it gets cold. We can ask Jack about his intentions toward Grace over dessert.”

Jack groaned. And to think half an hour ago he’d been singing the praises of his close-knit family. He should’ve begged off coming here tonight, although, that would only have delayed the inevitable. When he and Grace were dating in high school, his parents and brothers had welcomed Grace into their lives. They’d been almost as devastated as he was when she’d accepted the scholarship to the college in Boston, and turned her back on Spruce Lake—and him.

While Grace seemed to have her life carefully mapped out, Jack had drifted from the peace corps to college, and then entered the seminary, believing that that was where he could best help others. But he’d felt there wasn’t enough time for those genuinely in need. That was why he now helped train homeless and troubled youth in carpentry, to give them a skill, a job, a future. It was satisfying and both physically and emotionally exhausting, but Jack wouldn’t have it any other way.

Thankfully, the focus was now off him as everyone ate and chatted about other topics. Next to him, Becky said, “I’d like to meet Grace sometime. I promise not to interrogate her.”

Jack took a swig of beer and said, “I’d like to believe that, Becky. But I’ve seen you at social functions. Within five minutes of meeting someone, you know their name, occupation, hopes, dreams, likes and dislikes down to the most trivial facts of their existence.”

“I do not!”

“Yeah, you do, sweetheart,” Will said.

Everyone around the table murmured agreement. Becky harrumphed, then whispered to Jack, “Will told me a little about Grace. It sounds like she and I had a similar upbringing. I thought we could be friends. Maybe I could help ease her back into life in Spruce Lake.”

Immediately Jack felt bad for misjudging Becky. She and Grace had both had fathers who were bums, they’d both moved around a lot growing up, they were supersmart and they’d won scholarships to college. And they were both divorced. Except Grace didn’t have a child from her ill-fated marriage.

He said, “I’m sorry, Becky. You’re right, of course. How about swinging by the old house tomorrow and I’ll introduce you.”

* * *

GRACE FLOPPED BACKWARD onto the bed in her hotel room. She hated hotels, their transient nature, accommodating you for a night or two and only too glad to see you on your way. That was why, when Jack had made the deal that meant she had to stay, she’d wanted to move into the house. To feel as if she had a home here until the renovation was finished and she went back to Boston.

She’d moved in with Edward when they got married, only buying a place of her own after the divorce. They’d kept their money separate, which meant she’d saved a lot, but she’d also spent a lot on holidays of Edward’s choosing.

“Fool!” she muttered. How gullible she’d been to sign a prenup that stated she was responsible for all her own expenses! She’d thought that meant her makeup and clothes, but once she was earning she was also responsible for her share of airfares, hotels and grocery bills. Edward would use his credit cards to purchase things, then bill her for her share. When she’d pointed out that he was claiming all the credit card reward points accrued for himself, he’d flown into such a rage she’d dropped it. She’d only realized years later that she’d been in an emotionally abusive relationship.

Grace blew out a breath, lifting her bangs off her forehead. She’d been so naive, marrying a man like that. “Never again!” she vowed, and headed to the shower.

Fifteen minutes later, she was in bed, after calling Marcie, the interior designer, and arranging to meet her at the house in the morning. Next, Grace reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet. She removed the photograph she kept there, tucked away where no one else could see it.

The photo had become worn around the edges over the years, so Grace had laminated it. She studied her newborn daughter. In the picture Grace was holding her close and gazing down at her, but Amelia was looking right at the camera, a tiny frown on her face.

Grace kissed the photo and returned it to her wallet, then closed her eyes and thought of what tomorrow would bring. More of Jack, she hoped. How different would her life have been if she’d stayed in Spruce Lake and married him? And kept their baby?

Chapter Five

When Grace arrived at the house at eight-thirty the following morning with Marcie Mason in tow, Jack had already replaced the broken windowpane, ordered the materials necessary to start the job and was just signing for a consignment of oak to fix the broken stair treads.

He gave one of his men a list of door and window locks to order, then went to meet the two women.

“Hi!” Grace greeted him as she alighted from her sleek red rental. “You fixed the window already!”

Jack ignored the instant effect Grace had on him, instead giving her a rundown of what had been achieved so far. “I’ve marked the steps that need replacing,” he told them, “but be careful. If you don’t mind, I’ll leave you ladies to it, while I get on with making the new stairs.”

Grace led the way to the second floor, chattering with Marcie like they were old friends. Satisfied, Jack set to work, doing a final measure of the treads.

Twenty minutes later, the two women were moving about the main floor, taking measurements and discussing color schemes.

Marcie disappeared into the kitchen, and Grace paused beside Jack. “She seems very competent,” Grace said.

“More so than you,” he said, nodding at her outfit. “I thought I told you to come dressed for work.” He regretted the words the moment he said them. Being rude to Grace to cover his discomfort wasn’t right.

“I was meeting an interior designer! I didn’t want her getting the wrong impression of me.”

“And what impression would that be?”

“That I let my contractor boss me around?”

“I’m so glad you made that a question,” he said. “Once she leaves, you need to go buy a pair of boots like these.” He indicated his heavy, steel-toed work boots.

Grace stared at them in horror. “You must be joking!”

“Nope. They’re a health and safety requirement. And my requirement—which you agreed to, is that you pitch in and help. Remember?”

Grace screwed up her face. “Stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

“Yup. And by the way, here’s my estimate. In spite of your haste to get me going on this project, I think it only fair you should know what to expect.”

Jack pulled several sheets of printed paper from his pocket and handed them to her. He watched as Grace scanned the pages, taking in all that needed to be done.

She looked up at last and said, “That’s an awful lot of money. More than I expected...”

“This is an awful lot of house that hasn’t been touched since it was built—apart from that eyesore of a seventies bathroom and kitchen renovation. This is the bare minimum it’ll cost to renovate the place into something you can be proud of. If you want a cheap job, there are contractors who’ll do it for you, but it won’t be me.”

“I don’t remember you being this forthright at school.”

“School was half our lifetimes ago. A lot has happened to both of us since then.”

* * *

IT SURE HAS, Grace thought. I had our baby, gave her away, then capped it off by marrying a complete Svengali—all to get away from my family, and what have I got to show for it?

“Something wrong?” Jack asked.

Grace snapped back to the present. “No, everything’s fine. Just don’t order me around too much, okay? I need to find my own pace.”

Jack frowned, but before he could ask about that revealing statement, Marcie reappeared.

“All done,” she said. “I hope you accept my estimate, Grace. It’d be an honor to work on this place. It might even get a mention in the Digest of American Architecture.”

Jack groaned.

“What’s wrong with that?” Grace demanded. “It’s a very prestigious publication.”

“Sorry, Jack,” Marcie said. “I forgot about the fallout the last time you were featured in it.”

Intrigued, Grace glanced from one to the other. “What? What?” she demanded.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Marcie said, packing her notebook and tape measure into her briefcase. She waggled her fingers at them as she dashed through the front door.

Grace spun around to Jack. “Well? What was that about?”

“I got a bunch of, uh, fan mail when I was in that magazine a few years back.”

“Which must have led to a lot of work for you. That’s good!” she said, immensely pleased that her contractor was so talented he’d been featured in the magazine. Just wait until Edward and his horrible family saw her home in an upcoming issue! He’d tried to have their house highlighted several years ago, but the publication had rejected his bid. Probably because their mansion was more like a mausoleum than a home.

“All it led to was a lot of work dodging enthusiastic women. And some men,” he said.

Grace started to giggle.

“Don’t laugh! It was really distracting when so many people showed up at the work site asking for me. Luckily, Al fended most of them off.”

“Most of them?” Grace nearly choked she was laughing so hard.

“Why is this so funny?” he demanded.

“Because you seem so unaware of your looks,” she responded. “I guess I missed that issue. Tell me how they posed you for the photograph.”

Jack widened his stance and crossed his arms.

Grace flushed. Jack’s biceps, broad shoulders, black hair and vivid blue eyes made a pretty devastating combination. “I can see why you got so much fan mail,” she said.

Jack scowled. “I wasn’t posing like this,” he said. “I’m crossing my arms because I’m refusing to discuss it.”

“Wow! That must’ve been some photo,” she said. “I’m going to look it up online.” Grace slung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the front door.

“Wait!”

She turned to see Jack blushing to the roots of his hair.

“It was that good, huh?” she teased.

“No, it was stupid. The photographer asked me to change. The photo they published was of me taking off my old shirt. It looked like a cheesy striptease.”

Trying to lighten the situation she said, too flippantly, “No wonder you got so much attention. From both sexes.”

“It wasn’t funny at the time. And it still isn’t. I take my work seriously.”

Grace schooled her expression. Jack really felt hurt and she needed to respect that.

Changing the subject, she asked, “So, how are the rashes this morning?”

“Much better. I’ve quit the orange juice, and the cream is giving me a lot of relief.” He rolled up his sleeve to show her. “Looks fifty percent better already.”

Grace brushed his inner elbow with her fingertip. She noticed him flinching. Surely Jack wasn’t that unused to a woman’s touch?

A sudden wolf whistle surprised her and she jumped back from him, searching for the culprit.

“Tyrone!” Jack shouted.

A lanky black youth sauntered over, grinning from ear to ear. “Yes, boss?” he said.

“Don’t ever do that to a client again. In fact, to any woman. It’s disrespectful. Now apologize to Dr. Saunders.”

The kid raised one finger to his head in a salute. “Sorry, ma’am.”

Jack turned to Grace. “This is Tyrone. He’s one of my apprentices, and since he’s only been here a couple of weeks, he hasn’t been fully house-trained yet.” He cuffed the kid gently on the shoulder and said, “Get back to work.”

“Sure, boss, and sorry again, ma’am.” Tyrone went back to planing some timber.

“Actually, I wasn’t all that offended. Especially since he’s just a harmless kid,” Grace said.

“Ten weeks ago that kid was serving time in juvie for pulling a knife on a shopkeeper.”

Grace paled. “Oh.”

Then she glanced around at the rest of the young men working on her house. They all seemed a little rough around the edges.

“I can see your mind working,” Jack said. “Let me assure you that underneath the tough exteriors, they’re just kids who need a chance.”

“And you know this because...”

“So far I’ve trained about forty kids who were either homeless or headed for jail. All of them now have jobs in the building trade all over the States. Some have even started their own businesses.”

“I had no idea you did this.”

Jack shrugged. “Why would you?”

“I, uh...” Grace’s life suddenly looked awfully shallow from where she was standing. What had she ever done to give back to the community? “Am I taking you away from helping them? By hiring you to work on my home?”

“Nope. This is the perfect project for them. Come and meet the rest of the guys. They don’t bite.”

Grace stayed where she was. “I feel a little foolish dressed like this when I’m supposed to be part of the crew. Should I change into work clothes first?”