At Wild Rose Cottage (8 page)

Trent might be popular at the auction, particularly since a lot of women got off on that dark, silent thing he had going.

As for Mike?

He acted as if nobody would bid to have dinner out with him because he wasn't Lightning Carlisle any longer, but she disagreed. Besides, if a woman only cared whether he was a big-shot ballplayer, then she wasn't worth anything in the first place. And if the bids weren't as high as they'd been when he was in the major leagues, what difference did it make? Even the starting bid of fifty dollars would help the firehouse.

Perhaps it was stupid, but Alaina couldn't help thinking that if Mike got blasted out of his stubborn cocoon, he might start seeing other possibilities to life in Schuyler.

CHAPTER SIX

T
RENT
WALKED
UP
the creaky steps of Emily's house on Monday morning, hearing odd sounds drift through the open door. He listened and realized it was a weird combination of music and sounds from nature.

He might have known. She was a major flake and had really strange ideas. It was her success as a businesswoman that surprised him. She hadn't shown good sense about the house, but until a few months ago everyone had figured the Emporium was on its last legs, and now she'd completely turned it around.

“Hi, Trent,” Emily said, stepping outside. “I saw you through the window. You're early.”

“I hope it isn't inconvenient.”

She wrinkled her nose, a gesture that seemed characteristic. “Only if you need to turn off the water before my clothes finish washing.”

“I think we can refrain.”

“In that case, it's fine. The coffee is on if you want a cup. I didn't know where you'd have everyone working today, so the pot is out on the patio.”

“Well, if it isn't Trent Hawkins,” an oily voice intruded.

Trent wheeled to see Bob Webber. Webber had been the landlord when the Hawkins family had moved into the house. There was an affable expression plastered on his round face, belying the snake underneath.

“You need something, Bob?” Trent asked.

“Not really. I'm just curious what's happening with this old place. I did own it for a long time.”

“And it's finally getting fixed up, instead of being left to molder into a pile of splinters,” Trent returned bluntly. The irony couldn't be escaped, because if he'd had his choice, he would have bulldozed the place.

Bob waved his right forefinger in a chiding gesture. “Surely you know I couldn't afford this kind of restoration and keep it affordable for folks to live here.”

“As I recall, there were times you couldn't afford to fix a leaky pipe or broken furnace, either.”

The genial smile on Webber's face flickered. “I tried to keep the rent down for tenants, even when it hurt me financially. But that's all water under the bridge. Perhaps I'll come back in a few days and check your progress.”

“It isn't my call. The house belongs to Ms. George.”

“Naturally.” Webber tipped his hat to Emily and rolled down the front walk.

The renovation job was getting more and more bizarre. Trent didn't like Bob Webber any better now than when he was a kid, and the squint-eyed man undoubtedly wasn't fond of him in return. Life as his tenant hadn't been pleasant for the Hawkins family, particularly when the rent had fallen behind. There had been loud threats of eviction, followed by smarmy advances to Trent's mother, with the suggestion she could buy time by being extra “nice” to him.

“That coffee sounds good,” Trent said tightly, turning back to Emily.

“Uh, sure.”

The rest of the crew was arriving, so they waited for the men to come up the walk.

“Hi, Emily,” Mike said with a smile.

Eduardo tweaked her hair, Vince winked and she and Caveman shoulder-bumped like old friends.

“Good grief,” Vince exclaimed as they came into the entryway. “What is that?” At the moment the music was barely discernible over an especially loud clap of thunder and accompanying rainfall. He looked out at the early-morning sunshine, and back at Emily.

“Classical music with nature sounds,” she explained. “Most of my collection is in storage, but I have CDs that are just ocean waves or mountain streams and some terrific New Age stuff from artists like Steven Halpern. Should I put something else on?”

“Naw. Guess we can stand it.”

She laughed and told them to get coffee and Danish on the patio.

Trent knew about New Age music, but it was part of the counterculture garbage that few people in Schuyler cared about. Country and western was the music of choice, followed by gospel and bluegrass. Personally, he preferred silence.

As the others trooped out to the patio to get their morning pick-me-up, he glanced at the crystal hanging in the window and remembered Emily saying the house spoke to her. How soon would it be before she started talking about past-life regression and telepathic communication with animals and ghosts, or something equally ridiculous?

The idea sent a strange sensation down his back. He wasn't superstitious, but with what was hidden in the walls of the house, he was sure a few ghosts could speak volumes if they were able.

* * *

E
MILY
NIBBLED
AN
apricot Danish, trying to concentrate on something Vince was telling her, but the thought of Trent's terse exchange with Bob Webber kept intruding. What did it mean? Of course, it might not mean anything; Trent seemed to have a strained relationship with most people.

He certainly had a habit of annoying
her
.

She'd wanted to smack the disdainful expression from his face when she was explaining to Vince about the CDs she liked. She knew the other guys were amused by her ways, but that was okay; it was Trent's snooty attitude that got on her nerves.

Hell. She was just in a bad mood because of her evening with Mike. It had been pleasant at first, but slowly she'd gotten the impression he saw her as a “sensible” choice for a date, a woman too ordinary for high romantic aspirations.

So on Sunday she'd decided to research him on the internet. Before his career-ending injury, Michael “Lightning” Carlisle had been expected to eventually land a spot in the Baseball Hall of Fame. He was also described as a fan favorite, with an irresistible smile and a habit of winning on and off the field...especially with female fans.

Emily had seen his smile, but it was hardly irresistible, and he was undeniably moody. She didn't blame him for being disappointed about the way his baseball career had ended, but he acted as if he'd lowered his expectations about everything...and had asked her out because she met those lower expectations.

Jackass.

She might not be a supermodel like Nicole, but if she ever got involved with another guy, she wanted him to consider himself lucky to have her in his life. She would rather be alone than feel she was second-best ever again.

And on top of everything else, she'd figured out that Alaina had a yen for Mike. Unfortunately the realization had come after receiving his invitation to dinner, or she never would have accepted.

Following the morning “huddle” as Eduardo called the initial gathering around the coffeepot and pastry box, the crew went to work and Emily began beating back the overgrowth in the yard. But every twenty to thirty minutes she ran inside to see what was happening and take pictures to document the progress. Eduardo laughed when she even followed him into the basement and took photos of the tangled network of pipes.

Trent was the only one who seemed unhappy when she came into the room where he was removing some hideous fake paneling. She snapped a couple pictures and grabbed an armload of debris, musing on the fact that he often worked solo. It fit his general personality, but wasn't he lonely? Of course...maybe his crew preferred it that way.

“You're paying us to do this,” he reminded her in a voice that was a little too patient for her taste.

“So?”

“Wouldn't you rather stay neat and clean at the Emporium?” he asked, reaching out to pluck a cobweb from the hair above her ear.

“Not really. Don't you have any women on your payroll who do this kind of work?”

“A few. I don't have a problem hiring women if they can do the job. Are you looking for other employment?”

Emily grinned. “Nope, I just want to be in on what happens here.”

His smile had its usual measured quality. “That's your prerogative.”

* * *

T
HAT
EVENING
,
WHILE
having dinner out with Alaina, Emily was tempted to ask if anyone ever got close to Trent. But she had the oddest feeling that Alaina didn't actually know her brother that well, either.

“By the way,” Emily said cautiously as they waited for dessert. “I've, uh, noticed that you kind of like Mike Carlisle.”

“That doesn't mean... That is, you shouldn't worry about...” Alaina's voice trailed off miserably.

“Don't worry,” Emily assured her. “We went out, but I'm not interested. Regardless, the two of you are much better suited.”

Alaina's shoulders slumped. “Not that it makes any difference. I've had a thing for Mike for most of my life. But before he left for college I was too young for him to notice me that way. Then later, when he was playing pro ball, he had scads of girlfriends. I know because the Schuyler newspaper used to pick up any story that mentioned him, whether it was for the sports page or a gossip column, and Mom mailed the papers to me.”

Emily smiled sympathetically. It must have been hard for Alaina to know that the guy she cared about had been enjoying feminine companionship in every baseball city from Boston to San Diego.

“How about now?” she asked. “You both live in Schuyler and he obviously isn't committed to anyone.”

“No luck so far,” Alaina answered darkly. “Getting injured gave Mike a major attitude problem. I bet he's even angry at his parents because they insisted on college, which delayed his professional baseball career. Honestly, he acts as if everything in his life is bottom of the bucket because of that accident. The way he talks about teaching makes me want to scream. Teachers are important.”

“That's what I told him, more or less.”

“Bet he didn't pay any attention.”

Emily's nose wrinkled. “Not so you'd notice.”

“Kids deserve someone who really cares about what they learn. Heck, a single teacher can make a huge difference in a child's life, but he can't see it.”

Alaina's ire was more and more evident, and it confirmed Emily's suspicion that Mike Carlisle's expectations were low for everything now, including women. “Just because he doesn't act interested doesn't mean he's indifferent,” she suggested, trying to sound encouraging.

“Maybe, but let's refrain from discussing men for the rest of the evening,” Alaina said darkly. “Or even thinking about them. Instead, let's have fudge cake with ice cream and talk about your house. What about putting in a hot tub or gazebo?”

“I've played with those ideas, and I'm also considering built-in cabinets for a TV and other electronics.”

“Vintage style would be fabulous.”

Emily laughed. “I can just see your brother's face if I add anything to the list of stuff I want done. On the other hand, it is my house so I guess he'll have to lump it.”

“Don't mention Trent. He's one of those men we aren't supposed to be thinking about.”

After dinner they decided to check out the local bowling alley. The last time Emily had gone bowling had been in high school and she was surprised at how much fun it was. Alaina acted as if she was having a good time as well, but Emily suspected that deep down she remained despondent about how things were going with Mike. She wished there was a way to help, but matchmaking wasn't her forte.

It was late when they finished and went out to their cars.

“You're welcome to come over to Wild Rose Cottage anytime you want,” Emily said before getting into her car. It was old in car years, but still ran great. “You don't need an invitation, whether it's just me at home...or when the guys are there, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Surely you've realized that it would put you and Mike in the same location.” Issuing an open invitation to visit Wild Rose Cottage was the closest Emily could come to matchmaking.

“Are you sure you aren't interested in him?” Alaina asked. “I don't want to... Well, I never believed that stuff about all's fair in love and war, if you get my drift.”

She was a nice person and Emily was glad she wanted to be friends.

“No, and he's not interested in me, not really, just in a woman he thinks will fit his new life, so I'm absolutely, positively, completely and totally sure I don't have the smallest interest in the guy. I can find additional adverbs if you need them.”

Alaina drew a deep breath and visibly relaxed. “Okay. You're right that it's an opportunity to see Mike where he can't avoid me.”

It surprised Emily that Alaina was having trouble getting Mike's attention. She was downright beautiful.

“You're looking at me funny,” Alaina told her.

“Sorry, I was just thinking that you're as pretty as my sister. She's a supermodel, so I know pretty.”

Alaina's eyebrows rose in a way that reminded Emily of Trent. “I don't get it.”

Emily shrugged. “It's nothing.” She yawned. “I'd better get to bed. The crew arrives before seven.”

She got in her car and waited until Alaina was in her Audi, then waved as they drove their separate ways.

The neighborhood was quiet when Emily let herself into Wild Rose Cottage. Most people in Schuyler were early-to-bed-early-to-rise types. For the most part it suited her, though she'd been known to enjoy a late movie at the theater. But the peace and quiet and friendliness of the small town were more than enough compensation for missing a midnight showing of the latest big-budget fantasy flick.

Yawning, she brushed her teeth and crawled into bed, pleasantly exhausted.

* * *

E
MILY
WOKE
UP
late and dashed to get the coffee started by the time Trent rang the front doorbell. The rest of the crew arrived a few minutes later and they went to the patio for the usual morning gathering.

It was disconcerting to have so many men in her home day after day. Her laundry and other chores had piled up because she'd been busy doing things for the Emporium after they left in the afternoons and on the weekends, and there was little time in the morning before they arrived. She could do it while they were working, but it felt strange to think about washing her personal items with them around.