At Wild Rose Cottage (7 page)

“Give me an estimate and we'll go from there.”

His eyebrow shifted again, but she didn't know why and didn't think he'd explain.

“I'm glad you knew about this,” she said, determined to show there weren't any hard feelings. “I could have fallen in here, never to be seen again. Then they might have done a TV mystery movie about what happened to Emily George and I'd be famous. Not that I'd know anything about it.”

She'd hoped Trent would crack a smile, but he simply nodded. “You mentioned wanting to work on the garden, so I thought I'd better check it out.”

Jeez, the guy was impossible. She knew he didn't like her New Age ideas, but they weren't doing any harm to him, so what was the big deal?

Emily stuck out her chin. “Why didn't you tell me this was your house when you were a kid?”

His face froze into stiff lines. “As I mentioned before, it's personal.”

Considering the way he'd acted the first time they'd met, she should have known better than to ask.

* * *

M
IKE
HAD
DECIDED
to clear out his classroom on Saturday and spent the afternoon at the school, ignoring broad hints from the principal about the coach's job still needing to be filled.

He'd
tried
coaching.

When it became apparent the final surgery on his knee had failed, he had gone to work for a Triple A ball team. He'd hated every minute, and his wounds were poked whenever one of the guys got called up to play in the majors. Just as bad, what did you say to a kid who wasn't good enough to ever
be
called up? Be honest, or let them keep hoping until they figured it out themselves? Either option stunk.

At his condo Mike showered and spent an hour on the internet, looking up Arts and Crafts architecture in case Emily wanted to discuss the renovations. Her house must have been one of the earliest Arts and Crafts homes built in Schuyler, and the design suggested a lingering Victorian influence. The place had plenty of potential, but it must be costing a fortune to fix up.

It was curious that Trent and Alaina had once lived there. He remembered when their parents had died, but Trent had never talked about it, and their teacher had warned everyone not to bring it up unless he did first.

Mike rang Emily's doorbell promptly at seven. She answered with a friendly smile and he was glad to see she hadn't dressed formally. It had belatedly occurred to him that he hadn't mentioned where they might be going. The choices were limited; taking her to a fine restaurant would have been nice, but Schuyler didn't have any.

Still, maybe he should switch gears from his original plan—Ryan's Roadhouse served decent food, but it wasn't ideal for a first date.

“I should have asked what kind of food you like,” he said when they were in his Porsche, a leftover from his pro-ball days.

“Everything,” she replied. “We traveled often when I was a kid, so I learned to eat different cuisines.”

“I'm afraid there isn't much variety in Schuyler. How about the Lazy Y Surf and Turf? The seafood is average, but you can't beat their steaks and prime rib.”

“That sounds fine.”

Dinner was awkward at first—he was out of practice with casual social conversation. They chatted about a number of subjects, mostly feeling each other out for common interests.

She
did
have strong opinions about the way historical accounts were skewed depending on point of view. Apparently she was an avid reader of authors like David McCullough, along with anything relating to the American Civil War. As they lingered over coffee, they wrangled cordially over male versus female perspectives of the past.

“What do you most miss about California?” he asked as the waiter refilled their cups a third time.

“My family, though we don't have anything in common. We love each other, but they're all about fashion and appearance.”

“I probably wouldn't have much in common with them, either, especially now that I'm back here teaching. Being in style is easy in Schuyler. You just wear jeans and a shirt, topped by a cowboy hat and boots.”

“Back? You left?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, knowing he had to admit the truth, and hating it at the same time. “I played pro ball for a while.”

She cocked her head. “Football?”

It pleased him that she didn't immediately know who he was...and dented his ego, as well.

“Baseball,” Mike explained.

“That might be why you look familiar.”

“You're a baseball fan?”

“Once in a while.”

He didn't know what she meant by that and didn't ask, not wanting to discuss his years in the majors. At least he'd gotten his college degree before all of that, which had left more options open after the accident.

“Why did you stop—” Emily broke off the query and it wasn't hard to guess why. She'd been about to ask why he wasn't playing any longer, only to guess it had something to do with his bum leg.

“Anyway,” he said, “I'm just a teacher now, nothing unusual.”

“Good teachers are worth their weight in gold.”

“I'm glad you think so. But I need a break from it over the summer, so I work for Trent instead of teaching summer school. I hate being inactive.”

“Yeah, I'm like that, too. I always want to stay busy.”

By the time he'd brought Emily back to Meadowlark Lane, he'd decided there was potential for a future relationship. He wanted to get married someday and have children, and Emily was the kind of sweet, down-to-earth woman who fit his life now. Granted, she was a little unconventional, but not in a way that would concern parents or the school board. He'd already learned that people in Schuyler enjoyed prying into a teacher's private life...and some were more persistent than the paparazzi from his baseball days.

“Thanks for a great evening,” Emily said.

He didn't try to kiss her. She had tried to pay for her own dinner, but seemed the old-fashioned type in other ways.

“Would you like to go out again next week?” he asked.

“I'm pretty crazy right now with the work going on in the house. Let's talk about it in a few days,” she suggested.

It wasn't an eager reply, but he could hardly expect the kind of feminine response he'd received while playing ball. Hell, women had often suggested going straight back to his hotel room following dinner. And it was another reminder that he wasn't a star any longer, just a guy who taught school.

“Sounds like a plan,” he agreed.

Emily let herself into the house and he returned to his condo. It was a small complex, the first condominiums in Schuyler, and had been built by Big Sky Construction. Trent was a terrific contractor, so Mike had known it was a sound investment to buy one of the units. It wasn't big enough to accommodate a family, but he'd cross that bridge if he came to it.

He got a can of beer from the fridge, but had barely popped the tab when there was a knock at the door.

It was Alaina Hawkins.

“Hey, Mike,” she said, her gaze flicking to the beer he held then back to his face. “I was driving past and saw your Porsche outside, so I decided to drop by instead of phoning.”

“Is there a change in next week's work schedule?”

“Nope, you're assigned to Emily's house. If everything goes as planned, we won't break up the crew until the renovations are finished.”

“That's good.” He wondered if he should offer Alaina a drink, but had a feeling she didn't care for beer and it was the only beverage readily available. “I prefer seeing a project through to the finish.”

“Trent knows the guys feel that way.”

Mike wondered for the hundredth time why a woman with a high-powered career in New York would leave to juggle work schedules for a construction company. While a skilled office manager was invaluable to Big Sky, office manager was as far as she could go in Montana. In New York she might have risen to become the head of a billion-dollar company, but she'd given it up to return to Schuyler. Nothing except blowing out his knee could have dragged him away from baseball.

“Actually, I have something nonwork-related to ask,” Alaina said.

“Uh, okay,” he said cautiously.

“I'm on the planning committee for the annual Volunteer Firefighters Auxiliary Barbecue, which is being combined this year with the bachelor and bachelorette auction. It works the same way it always has—people get to have dinner out with the person they ‘win' in the auction. Anyway, we want you as one of our bachelors.”

She had to be kidding.

“Sorry, I can't,” Mike refused shortly. “I'll make a donation.”

“But it's for a terrific cause. We're raising money for a new ladder truck.”

“Forget it. I'm not Lightning Carlisle any longer.”

Alaina planted her hands on her hips. “I don't like taking no for an answer. So the way I choose to see this is that you need time to think about it.”

Mike ground his teeth. “Alaina, you must be out of your mind if you think—” he began saying, only to stop. He was talking to the back of her head as she walked toward the visitor parking area, her smooth dark hair swaying with each step.

Hell.

He couldn't believe she'd asked him to participate in the bachelor auction. Years ago he used to do it and his “sales” had brought in record bids, despite the proviso that the winner would have to wait until the end of baseball season before getting taken out to dinner. Most of the time he hadn't even been able to make it to the auction, so they'd bid on a picture of him. But there was no way he'd embarrass himself by doing it now.

Jeez, they must be desperate if they were asking him to volunteer. He could just hear the auctioneer:
Our next bachelor is former pro baseball player Michael Carlisle. Too bad his career tanked a few years ago.

Well, maybe they wouldn't be that blunt, but he'd hate it, no matter what they said.

Mike dropped to the couch and put a heating pad on his knee.

He closed his eyes, trying to push Alaina's image from his head. She'd looked beautiful tonight, not to mention confident and thoroughly sexy. He knew she'd had a crush on him as a kid. Back then she was big-eyed string bean and it had been cute the way she tagged along when he was doing something with Trent. Then Alaina had grown up into a leggy beauty.

It was unlikely she remained interested, but it didn't matter. He wanted to avoid messy relationships, and getting involved with the sister of a longtime buddy would be unbelievably messy. He liked Trent, but the guy was impossible to figure out, and had always been protective of his sister.

It was much better to pursue a pleasant, sensible woman like Emily, instead of a gorgeous idiot who'd voluntarily given up the success she could have had in the city.

* * *

A
LAINA
SAT
IN
her Audi sedan, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel as she regrouped.

She hadn't genuinely expected Mike to volunteer for the charity auction. He'd done it in the past, but only after becoming a well-known baseball player. It was guys like Billy Halloran who loved strutting and teasing women into outbidding each other for him.

Anyway, having Mike turn her down gave her an excuse to see him again about it, though she sometimes wondered why she bothered. At least tonight he hadn't made a snide comment about her quitting a lucrative job to work for peanuts, or sniped that she couldn't cut it in the city.

Alaina thought about the beer that Mike had been holding when he answered the door and a peculiar sensation went through her stomach.

It was probably guilt.

She shouldn't have stopped to see him, but she'd known about his date with Emily and had been elated to see he was home before 9:00 p.m. Then, when he'd answered the door, she'd been struck by a sudden fear that he wasn't alone. Of course, it was remotely possible Emily had been in the condo, only she didn't seem the type to hide in the bathroom to avoid being seen.

Alaina shuddered and started the car. The embarrassment of such an encounter could seriously damage a new friendship.

She drove past the Big Sky Construction yard and was surprised to see the office lights on and Trent's truck out front. Using the remote control to go through the gate, she parked and went inside.

“It's me,” she called.

Trent was going through a pile of papers on his desk. “Why are you here so late?” he asked.

“Visiting my brother.”

He glanced up and smiled.

Alaina blinked. A few days before Emily had commented that Trent's smile always seemed controlled, as if he had to think about doing it. She was right. Once in a while he would half grin if he found something amusing, but it rarely came naturally.

“Why the urge to visit your brother tonight?” he asked.

“I, uh, just dropped by after I... Never mind.”

His eyes narrowed questioningly, but she ignored it and went to the coffeemaker. “How about a fresh pot?” she asked.

“Sure.”

She put a handful of beans into the grinder, spun it a few times and tipped the contents into the filter. Soon the rich aroma of brewing coffee filled the air.

Before she'd begun working at Big Sky, Trent had bought ground coffee from the local grocer without paying attention to quality. Maybe he'd figured flavor didn't matter since he made the stuff so strong it threatened to eat holes in stomach linings, but Alaina
did
care about flavor, so she was now ordering her favorite blend over the internet.

When the pot had brewed she poured a cup for Trent and got one for herself. They drank silently; her brother wasn't one for light conversation, even with family.

She wanted to ask him for ideas on convincing Mike to volunteer for the auction, except he'd likely say it was none of his business. After all, Trent had also refused to volunteer himself...before she'd even asked. Huh. As far as she was concerned, it would be good for both of them to get involved in something outside of work.