Harvest Moon (Brook Haven Romance Book 1) (3 page)

BOOK: Harvest Moon (Brook Haven Romance Book 1)
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“We should probably
just replace most of this. It’s pretty warped and rotted.”

She brushed her dark
hair out of her eyes and looked up at him again.
Damn, she’s pretty,
he thought once again.

“How much will that
cost?”

“I’d have to call and
get a price on the lumber, but I have a buddy over at the lumber yard that’ll
give me a pretty good deal.”

Drake could tell by the
way she furrowed her pretty brow that she was feeling stressed even before she
said, “Am I being overly optimistic thinking this can all be finished and I can
open in time for the Harvest Festival?”

“Optimistic is good,”
he told her with a smile. “Hey, why don’t I call my buddy and have him get the
lumber ready, then you can ride into town with me and we’ll get some
breakfast?”

He couldn’t read the
look on her face, but suddenly he wasn’t very optimistic. “I should really stay
around here. I just have so much to do.”

“Okay … yeah, I
understand. Well, I’ll call him and head into town. Can I bring you something
from the diner?”

Again, there was that
look. “No, I’ve had breakfast, but thanks. Will you be long?” The last was said
with a little edge to it.

“I’ll get mine to go,”
he said with a wink. Sophie didn’t look amused.

 
 
CHAPTER THREE

“Mother! What are you
doing?” Sophie walked into the kitchen just in time to see her mother hobbling
in through the other door.

“I was just going to
put on a pot of coffee—”

“I told you to call me
if you needed anything. You need to stay off that ankle.”

“Sophie, I’m fine,
honey. It’s just a little sore. You need to take a breath and relax. You can’t
fix everything all by yourself.”

“Well, it seems I might
have to,” she said, pulling out a chair for her mother. “Sit.” Her mother
rolled her eyes but sat down.

“I’m sorry, I’d be
helping you but you’re the one—”

“Oh, Mom! I’m sorry.
I’m not talking about you. It’s that carpenter/handyman I hired. He just seems
so laid back about things. He was half an hour late this morning, and he’s been
gone for over an hour now to pick up lumber and—get this—breakfast.”

Her mother smiled. “A
man does have to eat, right?”

Sophie drew her
eyebrows together and looked at her mother. “Don’t you think he should have
done that before he came to work?”

“Well, things happen
sometimes.”

“Why are you defending
him?”

“I don’t know. Why do
you want to be angry with him?”

“Want to be? Are you
implying that I was looking for an excuse to be angry with him?”

“I just don’t really
see that he’s done anything so bad. People live life at a slower pace in these
small towns. I thought that was the whole point actually of buying the B&B
here.”

“It is, and I
understand that, but I have a deadline.”

“It’s a self-imposed
deadline, and it seems to me that it might be putting a lot of undue stress on
you. Would it be so bad, Sophie, if you had to open a week or two later than
you planned?”

“Yes!” Sophie slammed
the coffee pot down in the sink. It was only luck that kept it from breaking.
She saw her mother jump slightly at the noise from the corner of her eye and
felt bad instantly. “Jesus, I’m sorry, Mom. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
I’m so thrilled to be here and be doing this, and not once in my life did I
ever question my ability to succeed … until now.”

Sophie could feel the
sting of tears in the corners of her eyes. Her mother struggled to her feet and
opened her arms. Sophie went over and melted into them. Her mother held her for
a few minutes and ran her hand down the length of her daughter’s hair, and then
she held her back so she could see her face.

“Sophie, it’s human
nature to second-guess ourselves. But you can’t let it consume you. Changing
your plans is not the same as failing at them. I know you can do this, but
there’s something that you can’t lose sight of in the process.”

“What’s that?” Sophie
asked while sniffling.

“The
joy
of the process. Keep that joy and
enthusiasm. Hold on to it. Otherwise this place will become just a job to you.
Be willing to be flexible, and don’t write things in stone just yet. Sometimes
things don’t work out the way you planned for them to, but that doesn’t mean
it’s a loss or a failure.”

Sophie nodded. She knew
her mother was right. Opening for the weekend of the festival would be perfect,
but opening after that would still be opening, and it would still be good. She just
wished that knowing she was right was the same as feeling it. Sometimes, Sophie
felt like she was wound as tightly as a clock and was afraid that one of the
springs was going to suddenly snap. “I will try to think of it that way,” she
told her mother. “Sit down. I’m going to make that coffee.”

It was another hour
before Drake got back with the lumber. By the time he started pulling up the
boards on the front porch, it was a little before noon. Sophie was doing her
best to hold on to her patience with him but hot or not, he was making it difficult.

While Drake worked on
the porch, Sophie busied herself with things that needed cleaning inside the
house and trying to get her mother to stay off her feet. It was around four thirty
when she heard Drake’s phone ring out on the porch. A few minutes later, he
knocked on the door and said, “I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to take
off. I’ll come back early tomorrow—”

“Take off? You’ve only
technically been working for a little over four hours—”

“Sophie!” her mother
said from behind her.

“I’m sorry,” Drake
said. His face looked truly remorseful, and it was easy for Sophie to look into
those chocolate eyes and want to forgive him, but at this rate, they’d never
get things done. She was beginning to regret not hiring the bigger firm from
the next town over.


Sorry
isn’t going to get the work done around here.”

“Yes, ma’am. If it
wasn’t important—”

“Just go, I’ll see you
in the morning.” He turned to leave and she said, “Drake.”

“Yes?”

“I hope tomorrow will
be a better day.”

“Me too,” he said. She
watched him go and wondered for a second what the phone call was about.
Deciding that it didn’t matter—or it shouldn’t if he was a professional—she
felt angry again. When she met her mother’s eyes and saw the disappointment
there, she felt just a little bit ashamed as well.

“Less than five hours,
Mom.”

Her mother nodded but
then said, “Just be careful, Sophie. You never know what someone is going
through. He could be going through some hard times.”

“Everyone goes through
hard times, Mom. It’s no excuse to slack on your work.” Before her mother could
respond, Sophie turned and walked out of the room. She wanted to see how much
he’d gotten done. When she opened the kitchen door that led to the front porch,
she felt shock radiate through her.

The porch was twelve
feet long and about four feet wide. Drake had completed all but about a two-by-four-foot
spot in one corner … and it was beautiful. The wood wasn’t finished yet, but it
was solid knotty pine, and Sophie could imagine just how beautiful it would be
when it was. She suddenly felt like a terrible person. She went back inside and
looked at her mother. “What’s wrong with me, Mom? I don’t treat people this way.”

Her mother smiled.
“Nothing is
wrong
with you. You’re
feeling stressed and pressured, but the simple fact that you feel remorseful
means you are a good, decent person.”

“Well, maybe you know
that and maybe I can convince myself of that because of how bad I feel, but I’d
be willing to bet that Drake is thinking I’m a pretty terrible person right about
now.”

“Then call him and
apologize.”

“Yeah, I don’t think
I’ll be able to sleep tonight if I don’t. Thanks Mom.”

Her mother kissed her
cheek and said, “I think I’m going to head up to the house. There’s a program
on television tonight I wanted to watch.”

“No, it’s too far for
you to walk. I’ll drive you.”

Her mom laughed. “I’m
not an invalid.”

“I just don’t want you
to permanently damage that ankle.”

With a sigh and a smile,
her mother agreed to the ride. As soon as Sophie got back to the main house,
she found her phone and called Drake. The phone rang four times and went to
voicemail, so she hung up. She didn’t want to apologize in a message. She
called her mother instead. “I sent you home without dinner.”

Her mom laughed again.
“What is this, role reversal? I have some leftover chicken from last night. I
was going to have that.”

“Oh, I was going to run
into town for something. Are you sure I can’t pick up something for you?”

“I’m sure, honey. I’m
going to eat the chicken and turn in early.”

“Okay. Mom, thank you
so much for all of your help.”

“You’re very welcome. I
love you.”

“I love you too.”

Sophie headed for town
feeling a lot calmer than she had during the day. She would apologize to Drake
first thing in the morning, and she’d make sure to keep a lid on the irrational
anger the stress had been causing her to feel all day.

The little town was
only about ten minutes from the B&B. When she drove up in front of
Huckleberry’s, the first thing she noticed was Drake’s pickup out front. She
felt a wave of annoyance that he’d rushed out in what he’d presented as pretty
much an “emergency” when he was out to dinner. She reminded herself that she
was going to stop all that as she walked in the front door. She was greeted by
a young lady in a blueberry-colored dress and a mile-wide smile.

“Well, hello there. I’m
Rebecca. Can I get you a table?” Sophie’s eyes had already landed on the back
of Drake’s head. He was facing away from her, but she could see his dinner
companion. She was an attractive woman of about thirty, and she was laughing at
something Drake had just said. “Miss … did you want a table?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, no. Just
a take-out menu please.”

“Sure, I’ll be right
back.” The girl went behind the counter and Sophie’s attention returned to Drake
and his dinner companion. The woman had long blonde hair, and from where Sophie
was standing, she looked tall and slim. Sophie was suddenly feeling another
irrational emotion—jealousy. Why on earth would she be jealous over whom her
handyman chose to have dinner with? She was suddenly embarrassed by her own
private thoughts.

“Here you go, miss.” The
girl was back with her menu. Sophie thanked her and sat down on the little
bench seat to look it over.

She was trying to
decide between the Tri-tip sandwich and the grilled shrimp when she heard,
“Miss Michelson?” Her stomach had already clenched before she looked up into
those chocolate pools. She forced a smile and hoped it didn’t look as nervous
as she felt.

“It’s Sophie,” she
said. “Hi, Drake.”

The young girl at the
counter handed him a take-out container and said, “Drake, are you gonna be at
the market on Sunday?”

He smiled and nodded.
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Oh good. I saw Wendy
out in front of the market the other day and I told her to go out there on
Sunday. She’s been having a hard time since Mitchell passed on.”

“You tell her to come
see me,” he said. The young girl beamed at him. Sophie wondered what it was he
was giving out at the market that made people so happy.

The blonde woman he was
with appeared at his elbow. “Drake, I have to run. I’ll call you in the
morning.” She was definitely tall … and slim … willowy even. She was beautiful.

“Okay, Brooke, thank
you so much,” Drake said. She leaned in and kissed him on his stubble-covered
cheek, and once again Sophie’s belly clenched.

“You’re very welcome.
Thank you for dinner.” The blonde smiled at Sophie, and Sophie forced another
smile she didn’t feel like wearing. Drake watched her leave and then turned his
attention back to Sophie.

“I’m really sorry again
about leaving so soon earlier. You see, those visitors I told you about—”

“It’s fine,” she said,
cutting him off. This was her chance to apologize and tell him what great work
he’d done—so why wasn’t she doing it?

“Okay … well … I guess
I’ll see you in the morning?” It sounded like he was asking a question. Was he
worried she was going to fire him? If he was so worried about it, why was he so
quick to show up late and take off early?

“Yeah, I’ll see you
tomorrow.” He started for the door, and that rush of self-loathing Sophie had
felt earlier for her bad behavior returned with a vengeance. “Drake?”

He turned back toward
her. She wished that her breath didn’t catch in her throat every time she
looked at him. “Yes?”

“You did great work on
the porch today. Thank you.”

He smiled then and—just
like that—her insides turned into hot liquid. “You’re welcome. I’ll finish it
tomorrow.” Sophie nodded at him and watched him go. She had no idea why this
guy caused her emotions to go from one end of the spectrum to the other in no
time flat.

 

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