Loving The Country Boy (Barrett's Mill Book 4) (10 page)

“Life often takes us on a journey we didn’t anticipate making,” he said at one point. “But we need to try to remember that just because we didn’t consciously choose it, doesn’t mean it’s bad. God sees the big picture, and He’ll guide us through the wilderness if we trust Him to do it. That kind of faith is difficult for some of us, but if we continue following that path, eventually we’ll find ourselves where He means for us to be.”

The pastor went on from there, but that last line hit Tess so hard, she actually lost her breath. Sitting here in this quaint little chapel, she finally understood why she’d felt so lost for so long.

All this time she’d been heading in the wrong direction, away from the things that were most important to her. Now that she’d been given a chance to alter her course, where should she go from here?

* * *

Something was definitely up with Tess.

Heath had managed to mostly pay attention to the sermon while keeping a casual eye on her. Seeing the variety of emotions playing across her face was more interesting than worrisome, and he couldn’t help wondering what was going through that quick mind of hers.

Wearing a dress dotted with blue flowers and a crocheted white sweater, she’d never looked prettier than she did today. Her usual outfits were expertly tailored to cut just the right stylish figure for a workday in LA. Today she looked like she was geared up for a picnic instead of a corporate takeover. While she probably wouldn’t appreciate hearing his opinion, he liked the difference. Maybe just a little too much.

While he was wrestling with those very confusing thoughts, a flurry of activity on the other side of the aisle caught his eye. A blond man in a suit was hugging Paige Donaldson, and she was obviously delighted to see him. When Olivia and another elderly woman shifted around to let him sit next to Paige, Heath assumed the two grandmotherly ladies were doing some Sunday morning matchmaking.

Nudging Tess, he discreetly pointed out the little drama unfolding one row back. “I thought she had her hands full with us.”

“Apparently she can multitask,” Tess commented in a tone laced with fondness. “Never underestimate a Barrett with an agenda.”

Focusing his attention back on her, he grinned. “Is that a warning or a threat?”

She didn’t answer him, but something like a challenge flared in her eyes. It was a good thing they’d agreed to remain friends, he mused as the organist started up again and everyone stood to sing the final hymn.

Tess Barrett was by far the most fascinating woman he’d ever met. She was also the most complicated, and it would take someone much smarter than him to solve that beautiful, bewildering puzzle. The man brave enough to take that on and allow himself to fall in love with her would definitely have his work cut out for him.

When the service was over, everyone lingered for the customary good-byes and plan-making. As much as he enjoyed Pastor Griggs’s commonsense approach to preaching, connecting with his friends and neighbors was actually Heath’s favorite part of coming to church. They were all busy during the week, and he liked the way they still managed to make time for each other. Considering the good vibes that existed inside those four sturdy walls, he was pretty certain God liked it, too.

Even Tess, who normally bulldozed her way from one task to the next, slowed down enough to chat with several people as he followed her to the exit. When she paused near Paige, though, Heath braced himself for some humiliation. And he wasn’t disappointed.

“So, there he is,” Paige commented in a snippy tone. “The man who doesn’t know how to use a phone.”

“I said I was sorry,” he reminded her. “Repeatedly, if I recall.”

“This one,” she explained to Tess, “emailed me from Alaska last year to say he was coming back for homecoming weekend and asked me to go to the football game with him. He never showed, so I sat there by myself all night. And I hate football,” she added with a shudder.

Heath chuckled at the melodramatic gesture. “By yourself? I doubt that.”

“Well, maybe not, but you stood me up, and I won’t ever forget it.”

“Obviously,” he responded with a grin. “How’re things other than that?”

“Same old, same old. You know how it is.”

“I hear you’re shaking up the town council race. Good for you.”

“Oh, you,” she said, playfully shoving him in the chest. “I never could stay mad at you. Take it from me, Tess. This one’s as aggravating as they come, but he’s still one of the best guys on the planet.”

Their West Coast visitor gave him a brief once-over, ending with a coy smile. “I have no trouble believing that.”

All this feminine approval was making him antsy, and out of sheer desperation, Heath focused on the other man hovering near the edge of their conversation. Offering his hand, he said, “Heath Weatherby. I’m hoping you’ll save me here.”

“Tyler Green. I’m in town for a few days visiting my aunt and uncle on my way to Florida. Paige and I are cousins.”

The clarification was clearly for Tess’s benefit, and she obliged him with a bright smile. “What a small world. Paige and I are friends.”

“I have no trouble believing that.” The only thing smoother than his mimicking of her was the way he said it, and Heath fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“Florida’s nice this time of year,” Tess commented. “Are you headed down for business or a vacation?”

“I’m a freelance ad executive and graphic designer. For the next couple of weeks, I’ll be working on a media-based promotional campaign for the Miami Dolphins. The previous company made a real mess of their latest campaign, and I’ll be mopping up and seeing what we can do to salvage something for this season.”

“No kidding.” Realizing that sounded lame, Heath tried to come up with something slightly more intelligent to follow it up. “That sounds like a big job.”

“It is, but I like a challenge,” Tyler responded confidently, adding a sidelong grin for Tess.

When she returned the gesture, Heath detected her more-than-casual interest in the Donaldsons’ guest. In his flawless suit and tie, Tyler’s polished look made Heath’s own outfit seem dull by comparison. Not that it mattered to him, he reminded himself sternly. He was perfectly content with his job and the durable clothes that came with it. Of course, Tess had never eyed him with the kind of awareness she was showing Tyler.

You had to expect that when you told a woman you just wanted to be friends, Heath supposed. That didn’t mean he had to like it.

Thankfully, he and Tess were headed to the Barrett family’s weekly Sunday lunch so he didn’t have to examine his reaction to Tyler too closely. After saying their good-byes, they filed outside with the rest of the congregation and strolled down the sidewalk that led to Paul and Chelsea’s home on Ingram Street.

“Tyler seems nice,” Heath began in a conversational tone.

“Right,” she commented with a quick laugh. “Seeing you guys dance around each other was like watching two boxers in the ring, sizing up their competition.”

“What? I thought we were polite enough.”

“For ten rounds. And while we’re on the subject, what’s the deal with you and Paige?”

For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine why she cared. “We grew up together. Why?”

“Just curious. What made you think of going to homecoming with her?”

Her casual tone sounded forced to him, but he was at a loss for what might be driving this awkward discussion. “’Cause we’re friends and she wouldn’t assume it meant something if I asked her. You wouldn’t believe how often that happens to me around here.”

“Oh, I’d believe it,” Tess corrected him with a knowing smirk. “But I thought you were set on staying here.”

“I am.”

“Since you’re not planning to move away, how do you expect to have that cozy little family of yours unless you settle down with someone from Barrett’s Mill?”

After considering that for a moment, he sighed. “Got me there. I guess I’ve always figured I’ll know the right woman when I see her.”

“And so far you haven’t?”

Any other day, he’d have easily answered that question with a no. But today, for some reason, he hesitated. Was it the blunt way she’d asked him? he wondered. Or was it something else altogether?

He wasn’t one to lie, but he didn’t want to give her the wrong idea, either. Shaking off his uncertainty, he said, “I guess I’m still looking.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Laughter reached them from the playground in the square, and she glanced over, a wistful expression clouding her features. “Actually, I’m looking for a lot of things right now. I just wish I knew where to start finding them.”

He knew that feeling all too well, and he hunted for a way to encourage her without making her feel like he’d been spying on her. “What’d you think of our little country church?”

“It’s nice.” Glancing back at him, she added, “I thought it would be just listening to someone talk. I really liked how everyone seemed so happy to see each other. You know, like a family.”

In those simple words, he heard much more than what she’d said out loud. Like him, this uprooted city girl was searching for a place to belong. At least for him, that had meant coming home. For her, it meant starting over fresh somewhere other than where she’d grown up. Whether that was Barrett’s Mill remained to be seen, but no matter what, it had to be scary for her. “I get what you mean. Knowing I could come back here after my accident made all the difference for me.”

“Do you want to know what I decided during church today?”

“Sure.”

Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, she faced him squarely, determination glowing in her eyes. “I’m not going back to California at the end of the year. I’ll ask if I can stay on at the mill, but if that doesn’t work, I’ll figure out something else. Exhausting and challenging as this week’s been, it’s also been the most fun I’ve ever had at a job. I feel like what I’m doing matters, and people pay attention to what I have to say. I totally get why Chelsea left her father’s bank to work there.”

“Well, she
was
in love with the owner,” Heath reminded her with a grin. “I think that had something to do with her decision.”

When Tess opened her mouth, the hard look on her face warned him she was about to pelt him for not taking her seriously. Then, for some reason, she stopped and gazed up at him with a thoughtful expression. He couldn’t begin to imagine what she might be thinking, and he cautioned himself to be light on his feet to avoid irking her any further.

“Heath, have you ever done anything crazy for love?”

Completely unprepared for such a probing—and personal—question, he stared back at her while his mind raced to come up with a response. To his surprise, he heard himself say, “Not so far.”

“Me neither. Everything I’ve ever done made perfect sense, at least at the time. I think that’s kind of sad, don’t you?”

There was a troublemaker question if ever he’d heard one. Seeking to avoid hurting her feelings, he hedged. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether you’re happy with the results.” She gave him a give-me-a-break look, and he sighed. “Okay, I see your point. The question is, what should we do about it? I mean, individually,” he added to be absolutely clear. He didn’t want to muddy the friendship waters with any misunderstandings.

“I’m not sure, but things won’t change if we just stand around waiting for something amazing to happen. We have to make them change.”

That sounded familiar, and he grinned. “Sounds like Pastor Griggs’s words of wisdom got through to you.”

“Loud and clear,” she agreed as they resumed their stroll. “Are all his sermons like that?”

“More or less. He and his wife have four kids and a passel of grandchildren, so he’s pretty much seen it all.”

“I usually hate it when people give me advice, but for some reason with him I didn’t mind. I suppose it’s all in the delivery. When you know someone’s honestly trying to help you, with no ulterior motive, even if you don’t like what they have to say, it goes down better.”

Heath smothered a grin. Every day she spent in town, she sounded more like a native. It was no wonder she’d felt like there wasn’t a place for her among the ambitious people she’d known in California. She had a lot more Southern girl in her than she probably wanted to admit.

“The man’s got a knack for nudging people in the right direction, that’s for sure.”

They spent the rest of their short walk chatting about the mill and what remained to be done before his stint as their maintenance foreman could be called a success. The subject of Tyler Green never came up, and Heath was grateful for that. Friendly by nature, his bizarre reaction to the guy bothered him, and he’d rather not examine it too closely.

In his experience, when you did that, you usually found out something about yourself you’d rather not know.

Chapter Eight

I
t was a rare warm evening in late October, and Tess was enjoying some quiet time on Gram’s front porch, reading the latest book from her favorite mystery author. After working at the noisy, dusty mill, the fresh air was a welcome end to her day. Pausing between chapters, she reached over to the wicker table beside her and picked up her dripping glass of sweet tea. While she drank, the call of a nightingale prompted her to glance around to find the source. She saw the bird in a nearby tree and leaned her head back to listen to its repertoire for a few lazy minutes.

Thoroughly distracted from her book, she let her gaze wander around the cozy neighborhood populated by old homes and stately trees. Every front porch was occupied by people either talking or reading actual newspapers. The elderly couple next door was listening to a baseball game on the radio, and she marveled at how the residents of this little town enjoyed the simple things in life.

She heard the crunch of feet in the side yard and looked back over her shoulder to find Heath strolling toward her. Laughing, she teased, “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your sneaking skills could use some work.”

“Tell me about it.” He grinned back, kicking a pile of dried-up leaves out of his way. “Doesn’t anyone in your family own a rake?”

She loved the way he referred to the Barretts as
your family
. Knowing he viewed her as one of them cemented her growing feeling that she’d finally found her place in the world. “Uncle Tom’s been here a couple times, but he can’t rake them as fast as they fall. I offered to help out, but he told me it’s man’s work.”

“That must’ve gone over well.”

“A month ago I probably would have given him a piece of my mind.”

Heath came up the porch steps and settled into the chair beside hers. He was holding a folder in his hands, and she wondered what was going on.

“And now?”

“I’m getting used to the Southern gentleman thing,” she admitted with a smile. “It kind of grows on you after a while.”

“That’s good, ’cause we’re not planning on changing our ways just to suit you.”

As much as she enjoyed sparring with him, her curiosity got the better of her. “You didn’t come here just to chat, did you?”

“Well—” He drew the word out on a long drawl then shook his head. “I could use your help with something. It’s important,” he added emphatically, as if he feared she’d turn him down if he didn’t give her a good reason to say yes.

“You don’t have to talk me into it, Heath. For everything you’ve done to help me, I’m happy to do something to pay you back.”

She held out her hand, but he pulled the folder into his chest in a protective motion that was baffling and touching at the same time. She’d never seen him act this way, and his reluctance to give up whatever was in that folder made her smile. “Please?”

“I should explain first, or it won’t make sense to you.”

“Okay,” she agreed, curling her feet up under her and leaning on the arm of her chair. “Shoot.”

He stared at her for a few anxious seconds then took in a deep breath and began. “You know I restore cars as a side job, right?”

“I saw the old Packard you did for Bruce Harkness. He had it parked out front of The Whistlestop the other day, and he spent half an hour telling me about all the work you did on it in the last six months. It’s gorgeous.”

That got her a grateful smile. “Thanks. The work I do for Fred pays the bills, but I really love hauling in an old wreck no one wants and making it into what it used to be.”

“Like the boys did with the mill.”

“Exactly.” Warming to his subject, he set the folder on the wicker table between them and faced her more squarely. “Anyway, there’s a house for sale just outside of town, not far from Scott and Jenna’s place. It’s a Cape with a nice yard, but what I’m really after is the original carriage barn out back. If I expanded it, it’d make a great workshop.”

“I remember you saying you had a lead on your own place. Is this the one?”

“Yeah.” Giving her a sheepish grin, he said, “I gotta admit, I’m kinda surprised you remember that. When I talk about it, most folks pretend they’re listening, but next time I see them, they can’t seem to recall any of it.”

“I’m not like that,” she reminded him, adding an encouraging smile. “I’m guessing there’s more you want to tell me. Go ahead.”

While he outlined his ideas for her, his eyes shone with excitement. He made her think of a little boy talking about the cool tree house he was going to build, and she hid a smile to avoid making him think she wasn’t taking him seriously. When he finished she tapped the folder. “Are these the plans?”

“Yeah. The problem is, I need a zoning variance to run a business in that spot. Bruce invited me to make a pitch at this week’s town meeting, but I’ve never done anything like that so I’m not quite sure how to go about it.”

“And you’re asking me for my input?” When he nodded, she was equal parts flattered and confused. “Why?”

“You’re smart, and you have good judgment and business sense.”

“Scott’s like that, too. Besides which, you guys have been best friends forever. Why me?”

He hesitated for a moment then gave her one of those irresistible grins. “Okay, you got me. I picked you ’cause you’re way nicer to look at.”

If the artless compliment had come from anyone else, she’d have bristled and scolded him for being a chauvinistic caveman. Since it was Heath, she took it in stride and opened the folder. Inside were honest-to-goodness blueprints, with the stamp of an architecture firm that listed an address in downtown Roanoke.

“You really went all-out for this,” she said while she flipped through the different site views. “How big is the property?”

“Two acres. I’ll leave half the land for the house and use the rest for the shop. Should be plenty since I’ll only be working on one car at a time.”

“What if your business takes off? You might need a storage building for cars waiting to be restored.”

“That’s this right here.” He pointed to a sketched-in square with dimensions but no detail. Moving his finger along, he continued. “This will be the painting shed, and this is a paved lot with room for ten cars. Twelve if you park ’em right.”

“What are you going to call it?”

That one stopped him in his tracks. “I haven’t thought about that.”

“Every business needs a name,” she pointed out as gently as she could. “If nothing else, you need to print something on your business cards.”

“I’ve been so focused on the building part of it, I haven’t had a chance to consider all that.” Leaning back, he crossed a boot over his knee with a frown. “Any ideas?”

Tess was struck by how readily he asked her for her opinion, as if he actually valued her input. That happened at the mill often enough these days, she’d gotten used to it. But coming from this fiercely independent man, it was another thing altogether. Humbled by his faith in her, she took her time coming up with a response.

Seeking inspiration, she mentally strolled through the area so many generations of local families had called home. The town with its quaint buildings and pretty central green, the miles of forest that led from there out to the mill that had produced the lumber used to build all these sturdy homes and businesses that had stood the test of time.

And in the distance, the Blue Ridge Mountains loomed over it all, rugged and beautiful from their uppermost peaks to the shadows of the lowest valley. Smiling at the vision in her head, she turned back to Heath. “How about Blue Ridge Classics?”

“Wow.” His stunned look spread into a broad grin. “That’s perfect. How’d you come up with it off the top of your head like that?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted with a shrug. “It just popped in.”

“I think you missed your calling. With that kind of imagination, you should be a writer or something.”

He was closer to the truth than he knew, and she debated whether to continue their conversation or change the subject. Since he’d laid out his dreams for her, she decided there was no harm in doing the same herself. “I love to read, but I’m not much for creative writing. I’ve always been interested in advertising, though. I took some marketing classes in college, and I thought the whole industry was fascinating.”

“Why didn’t you go into that?”

“Too much work,” she confided with a sigh. “I just wanted the degree to keep my parents happy, so I went with psychology.”

“Knowing why people act the way they do is part of advertising, right?”

“I guess.”

“So you were just getting started,” he suggested in a helpful tone. “If you want to get serious about it, you can go back to school and take those classes you’re missing. When you’re done, you can use all those smarts you’ve got and make a nice career for yourself.”

“Do you have any idea how competitive that industry is? In LA, you can’t swing a cat without hitting an ad executive who’s hunting for a job.” For some reason, he grinned, and she demanded, “Did I say something funny?”

The grin widened, and he said, “
Swing a cat
. Hate to break this to you, magpie, but you’re turning into one of us country folk.”

“Wonderful,” she grumbled with a mock frown. She couldn’t keep it up in the face of his amusement, though, and she relented with a sigh. “Whatever. There’s worse things to be, I suppose.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

The twinkle was back in his eyes, but it had a different quality to it this time. Warmer, deeper, as if he meant that look to be especially for her. It was unsettling, and she did her best to break that intimate connection with him.

The trouble was, she couldn’t make herself look away. Desperate to regain her composure, she recalled the folder sitting on the table between them. Forcing herself to look at it instead of him, she said, “So, your pitch. I’m assuming since Bruce is the mayor, he’ll be running the meeting.”

“Right.”

Heath didn’t move, but his gaze was as intense as ever, and she sternly cautioned herself to stick with the project. She had a strong feeling that if she mentioned anything even remotely personal, things between them could slide out of her control in a heartbeat.

To her dismay, the thought of getting closer to Heath didn’t terrify her anymore. In fact, if he gave her the slightest hint that he was beginning to view her as more than a friend, she wasn’t sure she had the resolve to push him back into the nice, safe box she’d been keeping him in.

“Then I think your best opening is to bring up that beautiful Packard of his,” she suggested in her most professional tone. “People know how good you are with modern cars, but they might not realize you take on other projects, too. Everyone’s seen his car around town, and that will prove how serious you are about your business.”

“Great idea.” Jotting down a note, he refocused on her with genuine interest. “Then what?”

While she outlined a strategy for him to use, she was surprised at how easily the concepts and their execution came to her. The more they talked, the more she was leaning toward taking his advice about taking more classes. She could start out at the local community college to make sure she was headed in the right direction, and then sign up for some online courses offered by a larger school.

The irony of it was that her father would heartily approve of her going into advertising, but not for the reasons that made it so appealing to her. He’d value the money-making potential in that industry, not the creative aspects of it that she was so drawn to.

Because sadly, nothing in her old life had changed. The best thing she could do was leave it behind and move on.

“While I’m here,” Heath broke in, “I was wondering if you still need some help with your scarecrow?”

“All I can get. Jason came by with his truck earlier, dropped off three bales of straw and saluted on his way out. According to him,” she added in a sour tone, “Chelsea handled the whole thing on her own last year, and the boys aren’t exactly the artsy-craftsy types.”

Her guest laughed then abruptly stopped when she didn’t join in. His puzzled look gave way to understanding, and he said, “Insulting, huh?”

“I’d take it to heart if I didn’t know how busy he and Scott are, trying to take up some of the load for Paul so he can be home more. I thought about asking Chelsea for help with the design, but I’d hate for her to find out I put it off this long. It might stress her out more than she already is.”

His brow furrowed with genuine concern. “She and the baby are doing okay, though, right?”

“Some days are better than others.”

It wasn’t like her to be so open about problems, and the worry she heard in her voice made her cringe. Reaching over, Heath rested a comforting hand over hers. “We’re all praying for them, Tess. Every day that goes by, the baby’s a little bit stronger.”

“I know.” She began to well up and did her best to blink away the tears. “I just hope it’s enough.”

“You’re doing what you can to make things easier for Chelsea. Now you need to have a little faith.”

“I’m not good at that. Yet,” she added quickly, brushing at a tear that had broken free and was edging down her cheek. “I’m getting better, though.”

“Yeah, you are.” Giving her an encouraging smile, he got to his feet and held out his hand. “Meantime, a good distraction will help get your mind onto something else. What say we go build us a scarecrow?”

Realizing his suggestion was much better than fretting over something she had no control over, she gulped down her fear and stood up. His hand was within reach, and she debated the wisdom of accepting his kind gesture. While she was still hesitant to encourage him that way, part of her longed to tap into the strength that seemed to be built into this kindhearted man.

In the end, logic gave way to emotion, and she took his hand. “Okay. Where should we start?”

“Well, some folks do a single scarecrow, and others put together a scene. Which do you like better?”

“Which kind usually wins?”

Chuckling, he slid open the door to Gram’s garage and snapped on the light inside. “Spoken like a true Barrett. The scenes win most years ’cause they’re about something folks can relate to.”