Torchlight (5 page)

She waited for him to answer, busying herself with buttering a cold piece of toast.

“I’ll be waiting,” he said, setting down his cup. He left the kitchen.

She knew he wasn’t speaking only of the plumbing project.

Julia was poring over the ancient blueprints of the house when he came into the dining room to ask a question about some work he intended to do in the cottage. The sight of her brought him up short.

She was so intent she did not hear him enter. Her hair fell over one shoulder, and she brushed stray strands from her eyes as she continued to study the original plans for the house. In the soft afternoon light, she looked like an angel to him—so quiet, so serene.

Dear God
, he prayed silently.
Give me the strength to control myself around this woman. Help me to wait on your timing.

“How long have you been standing there?” She stood with her hands on her hips, angry to find him spying on her.

“I … I’m sorry. I was just—”

“I don’t need to be looking over my shoulder all the time, Mr. Kenbridge.”

“You can call me Trevor,” he quipped, hoping to elicit a laugh. What was wrong with her? Ever since yesterday, in the kitchen, she had her walls back up. He had apparently edged too close, pushed too far.

“Did you need something?”

He scowled at the hard edge to her tone. “Look, I just came to ask you about the cottage. I think it would be a much nicer place if I took out the small wall between the two rooms. I’ll ask Bryn’s friend about it when he comes tomorrow—”

“Fine. Do what you want with the cottage. But be ready to begin on the main house soon. Anything in the cottage will have to come last, or on your own time.” She was staring back at the blueprints, obviously pretending to have him already out of her mind.

“Anything you want,
Ms.
Rierdon.” He turned and walked out, letting the front door close loudly behind him.

A
dozen roses arrived every three days for Julia, a gift from Miles. “So you don’t forget me,” the card would read, or, “Thinking of you every day.” It was thoughtful of him, and the roses made Julia miss him a bit. Maybe this separation would be good for them, help them to determine if they wanted to finally make more of their relationship in marriage, or call it off. As constant companions they had been on the fence for years and had become fairly comfortable with how things stood.

And so it was that when the car pulled into the drive Julia half expected the florist. She looked out the leaded window from her bedroom, where she was stripping wallpaper, and wiped her sweating brow. Trevor appeared below, walking quickly toward the Toyota and opening the passenger-side door. His grin was wide, and when an attractive brunette emerged, he gave her a long, brotherly hug. Who was it? A man appeared from the driver-side door, and Julia roused herself from the window to hurry downstairs.

“Julia?” Trevor yelled, opening the front door with a half knock. “Julia?”

“I’m right here,” she said, moving down the staircase as she had been taught to move in ball gowns as a teen. Even in jeans and a T-shirt, she could still be a lady.

The woman on Trevor’s arm looked up to grin at her. She was lovely—olive-skinned with long, dark hair, as if she had Native
American blood. They’d be a beautiful couple, but her demeanor was more sisterly than that of a woman with romantic intentions.

“Julia, I want you to meet my cousin, Bryn Bailey. This is her friend, Dan Lindgren, the architect.”
Oh, that explains it
, she thought.

“Oh! Welcome.” She reached out to shake the woman’s hand, and then the architect’s. “Please, come into the dining room. I’ve got some coffee on—”

“Water would be great,” Bryn said. “May I help you?”

“No, no. I can handle water.”

“I’ll take coffee,” Dan said gratefully.

“I’ll be right in. You can spread your things out on the table,” Julia said, gesturing toward Dan’s case. Dan and Bryn turned to admire the front foyer and staircase, then moved toward the dining room, while Trevor followed her into the kitchen.

“I’ll grab the coffee,” he offered.

“Okay. I’ll get your cousin’s water.” She paused as she poured from a filtered jug—the house’s water was not yet suitable for drinking. “I didn’t know she was going to come up today.”

“Neither did I. I hope it’s okay. She said something about wanting to see the old place; I’ve talked so much about it.”

“It’s fine, fine.”

“Well, good.” He gestured toward the dining room. “I’ll be in there. Coming?”

“Yes. I’ll just grab a plate of cookies and be right in.” The door swung shut behind him, and Julia stared after him.
I’ve talked so much about it
, he’d said. And he and his cousin were apparently as close as she and her brother, Jake, were. She mused over her own smile. Maybe Trevor Kenbridge was more stable and at home here than she had given him credit for.

The next few days went smoothly enough. Hours were eaten up by the demanding tasks of inspection: foundation, electric system, plumbing, timber framing. The list went on and on, and their to-do list expanded accordingly.

The following day, a week after Trevor’s arrival, Julia left with Dan Lindgren to file renovation plans at the county courthouse in Portland, two hours away. Unlike the bureaucracy of the big cities on the West Coast, approval could come within days. Still, the lines and the forms and the interviews took all afternoon.

When Julia drove back into Torchlight, she smiled at the wreckage, imagining how it would look within the year. The vision invigorated her. She wondered what Trevor had accomplished in her absence, and her heart sped up strangely as she imagined him coming out the door to greet her.

Catching sight of the convertible as it came through the gates, Trevor paused at the kitchen window and watched Julia park and jump out of the car. His heart seemed to stop, then beat again more quickly.
What is it about her?
It irritated him that a woman could so captivate him.
I’m a freewheeler, so why do I feel like my feet won’t move?

Realizing he would be seen in the window if he didn’t change positions, Trevor forced himself to go back to tearing out the electric stove and wiring, in preparation for a new gas range.
You always want the unavailable ones
, Bryn had teased him. She had recognized his attraction for his new boss from the start. They had traveled together, spent hours on the phone together; she knew him like a brother. And she was right. He always set his sights on the unattainable … It made
him angry at himself. He gave the wiring a fierce yank, and instead of trailing out, it ripped through the wallboard.
“Oh!”
he growled in frustration, clamping his mouth shut lest swearwords emerge.

The door slammed shut, and Julia came into the kitchen to drop off the few groceries she had picked up. “Hi,” she said.

“Hello,” he responded, not looking up at her.

“How’s it going?”

“Fine.”

“I thought you’d be done with this by now.”

He stood up and wiped off his forehead. “Yeah, well, I thought I’d take the afternoon off while the boss was away. I just sat outside in the hammock and dozed.”

“No need to get sarcastic,
Mr.
Kenbridge.”

“No need to check up on me,
Ms.
Rierdon.”

She put away her groceries silently, her tense shoulders telling him of her anger at his impudence.

As she turned to leave, he caught her at the door. “Look, Julia, I had to move the rest of the stuff out of the basement so the guys could work on the pipes tomorrow. It took all morning and part of the afternoon. All the stuff is in the shed—you need to go through it and decide whether you want to save or toss it.”

She looked down at her feet and then at him. “I’m sorry. I was checking up.”

“I’m a trustworthy man. Give me some room. I’ve told you; you won’t be sorry.”

She paused a moment, then: “What’d you find in the basement?”

“It looks like mostly junk to me. But go on down and check out the wine cellar. I unearthed it behind two old couches.”

“A wine cellar? I don’t remember that.”

“Maybe your great-grandparents were teetotalers who buried it before you were born.”

Julia moved over to the basement door and opened it. It smelled musty, dank. She yanked a chain attached to a bare light bulb, and the old cement stairs were immediately illuminated. Fighting off her childish fear of dark basements, she walked down. The basement was an empty warren of makeshift, half-walled rooms.
It must’ve taken Trevor forever to empty it.
And she had jumped all over him …

“Boo!”

Julia jumped. Realizing it was just Trevor behind her, she turned around and slugged him on the arm as hard as she could.

“Ow! What’d you do that for?”

“You creep!”

“I was just playing around. Lighten up.”

“I thought you had something to do.”

“I wanted to show you some things.” He rubbed his arm and frowned at her. “Come on.”

She followed him to the left, noting the rough-hewn beams and posts that made up the timber framing of the first floor. Here and there stood walls of shelves, full of empty canning jars, paint, brushes, and various tools. To the right of the wine cellar was a huge assortment of wine jugs and soda bottles, all full of a clear liquid.

“What do you think those have in them?”

Trevor smiled. “I thought you’d want to see that. I was thinkin’ that Gramps had gotten into the moonshine business, but it didn’t make sense with the little that I know about their lifestyle. Anyway, Ernie, one of the plumbers, told me to open one and check it out.”

“What was it?”

“Water. He said that back in the forties they had a severe drought. Apparently your relatives were stocking up for another sunny day.”

Although she was still upset with him for spooking her, Julia had to smile. “And the way basements go, they never returned to empty or clean ’em out.”

“Nope. This way, ma’am.” Twelve more feet to their left was the wine cellar, festooned with a huge hand-carved timber depicting luxurious grape leaves and their bounty. “Check it out; natural refrigeration at its best.” He opened the door and Julia peeked inside.

“It’s really cold in here!” The small room had ten steps that descended another seven feet below ground. The walls were hewn granite. “It must hold more than two hundred bottles, when it’s full.”

He jumped the last three steps and landed beside her. “Probably’s been empty since Prohibition.”

“Probably. But I bet it was full when Shane Donnovan was man of the house. Grandmother said he loved to have either a quiet evening with his family or a big party. Anything in between left him restless.”

“Sounds like a man I would’ve enjoyed knowing,” Trevor said, as they climbed back up into the basement again.

He closed the wine cellar door behind him. “There is something else you should see. Over here.” He pointed into the corner of one section of timber framing, shining his flashlight carefully.

Julia crowded in to see, with Trevor close behind her. “What?” His proximity and her own reaction to it irritated her. She felt herself flush from head to toe.

“No termite damage.”

“No termite damage?”

“None whatsoever.” He calmly remained poised behind Julia, clearly enjoying her proximity.

She turned to get out of the corner. When Trevor didn’t move, she pushed him backward. “You couldn’t just tell me that?”

He shrugged innocently. “I thought you’d be happy with the news.”

“I am. But … oh, forget it.” She shook a finger in his face. “Boundaries. Remember our boundaries. No flirting. I’m your boss. You’re my employee.
That’s it.”

“Right. Boundaries,” he said mischievously. “You have a boyfriend. And the flowers. I’ve seen the flowers. From him, right?” Was he taunting her, testing her?

She kept her stern look and nodded once, staring him down. “Yes. They’re from Miles.” But as she climbed to the main floor and he silently followed behind, Julia couldn’t keep a tiny grin from escaping.