Love Built to Last Page 2
“Those barn cats wouldn’t lift a paw to help you. They’re a bunch of hedonists.” Brenna handed Maddie her coffee. “All six of them.”
“Only five now.” Maddie frowned. “My sweet Rafael disappeared a couple weeks ago. Poor old guy. Cats wander off to be alone when their time comes. I think maybe that’s what he did.”
“I don’t know how you can afford to keep them all fixed and fed. You’re turning into a crazy cat lady.”
“Go ahead and joke, but I haven’t had one field mouse inside the house. I just regret they have to stay outdoors all the time, but Jack is allergic.”
Brenna’s expression slid into tender lines. She regarded Maddie with a mix of frustration and empathy. “Was, sweetheart. He was.”
“I know he’s gone, but it doesn’t feel like it to me.” Maddie shrugged. “Besides that, he talks to me. If I leave here, I might disrupt the balance. I’m not doing anything that might ruin that connection.”
“Look, I know you have yourself convinced that Jack communicates with you. I wish it were true, really I do. But, honey, Jack is gone. He’s not coming back and you need to accept that.”
Maddie pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Don’t lecture me.”
“I worry about you.”
“Don’t.”
They stared at each other for a beat, then two. Brenna shook her head, pulled her keys and Ray-Bans from her purse, and changed the subject as they walked toward her Audi.
“Did Mama call you?,” she asked. “She’s fixing meatloaf tonight and I think I heard something about apple pie.”
“She called me yesterday and bribed me with garlic smashed taters.”
“You want to go straight over there after the pet adoptions close? I can drive you back here after dinner.”
They settled into Brenna’s little convertible and strapped in. Maddie yanked her sloppy ponytail tighter and said, “I would, but I have an appointment at four. You’re going to be proud of me. I called a carpenter to come over and give me a quote on a complete rehab of the kitchen. It was the first thing Jack and I were going to remodel after we bought the house, you know? So I’ve decided to get a quote. At least I’ll know what kind of cost I’m looking at if I ever decide to actually do it.”
“Mads, that’s wonderful. I am proud of you.” Brenna’s smile beamed wide. “Who did you call? I hope you got a recommendation from someone you trust.”
Maddie bit her lip and slouched into the seat. She studied the passing trees outside the passenger window with more interest than was warranted.
“I did, in a manner of speaking,” she said. “I’ll give you details later, okay? After I meet with him.”
“You can tell the whole family about it over meatloaf and smashed taters.”
When Brenna didn’t press for more information, Maddie relaxed and settled back into the buttery leather to enjoy the ride.
***
After returning home from the Giving You Paws adoption day, Maddie started a pot of fresh coffee and went outside. She crossed the wide gravel drive onto the meager stretch of spotty grass leading toward the barn. The scent of wild honeysuckle mingled with the Georgia pines and the earthy scent of young summertime. She marveled at the difference between this, Jack’s hometown of Bright Hills, and the inland Florida town where she grew up. Between the two, she felt more at home here—in part, because Jack loved it so, and because his family embraced her without reservation as one of their own. Acceptance and love created a solid anchor.
Maddie stooped outside the weathered barn to pet Horace. He basked in the sun, sprawled in the same patch of scrub grass where he had been earlier. He purred with enthusiasm when Maddie bent to scratch behind his gray ears and stroke her hand over his spine.
“Where are your pals, big guy? All hanging out in the barn?”
She refilled the cats’ food dishes and replaced the day-old water with fresh. Horace received another bout of scratching and cooing before Maddie left him to go back inside.
She stopped midway between the house and barn to enjoy the view of the field that lay beyond them, a ripple of green that ended acres away at the edge of a state protected forest. Trees dotted the landscape in a random pattern, save for a trio of apple trees in the mid distance which, by happenstance, formed a triangle. Their spreading branches created a leafy canopy which shaded a broad circle of ground. She and Jack had expected their children to play in that field, to climb those trees. They had planned for a tree house and a swing, a waggy-tailed dog, and happy laughter to echo over the hills.
Maddie accepted the sadness that rolled through her and brought with it that split second of disbelief that she stood here without Jack, that he was really gone and wasn’t coming back. She swallowed it back and sighed.
“I told Brenna I’d be at your mom’s later, and now I don’t feel like it. Should I go or make an excuse and stay home?”
She considered sitting at Jack’s desk to find her answer, but the carpenter would be here soon. She tossed her flip-flops by the kitchen door and poured fresh coffee into her mug. It didn’t come close to matching the flavor of Brenna’s specialty brew from the Lump & Grind, but it would do.
The crunch of tires on the gravel signaled the arrival of the carpenter and Maddie padded barefoot over cool tiles to the kitchen door. She stepped onto the porch and waved the black Ford 350 over to the side yard. The driver parked beside her Camry where the gravel thinned and patches of grass sprouted at the driveway’s end, not quite midway between the house and the barn.
“This is the carpenter you recommended, Jack. The guy with the sexy voice.” She smirked. “He probably looks like Homer Simpson.”
Maddie sipped her coffee and waited for the man to climb from the truck. She adjusted her glasses, but didn’t get a good look at him until he slammed the driver’s door and strode toward the house, his long legs making short work of the distance. She blinked twice and adjusted her glasses again. In her experience, people never looked like their voice sounded, and she’d expected him to be older and a lot less—well, sweet Lord. She gulped her coffee and the burn in her throat brought tears to her eyes.
“Mrs. Kinkaid? Hi. Caleb Walker. Friends call me Cal.” He loped up the porch steps clutching a dog-eared notebook in his left hand, his right hand outstretched.
Maddie shifted her coffee mug to accommodate his handshake and the hot liquid sloshed over the side of the mug.
“Ouch!” She thrust the mug into her other hand and shook the offended appendage.
Coffee dripped from her fingers. Her cheeks heated and she imagined how ridiculous she looked, standing there shaking her hand like a fool.
“Sorry.” He took the mug before she could protest and moved around her to hold open the screen door. “Better run that hand under cold water.”
Maddie looked into his eyes, green as moss and pulsing with light. Unsettled, she blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Are you always so bossy?”
Those amazing eyes crinkled at the corners and Maddie didn’t know whether to be swept away by his affability or annoyed by his air of familiarity. He diffused her with a disarming grin and followed her from the porch into the kitchen.
“It depends on who you ask. My sister will regale you with many stories of my bossiness. Mostly, though, I just suffer from a compulsion to fix things.” An apologetic smile accompanied his broad-shouldered shrug. “It’s a genetic defect that I hope you won’t hold against me. How’s the hand?”
“No amputation required.” Maddie held up her hand and wriggled the fingers. “And I owe you an apology. I was rude to you on the phone earlier. You caught me at a bad time. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t blame you for being irritated. Believe me, you weren’t my only unhappy customer. You have my word that ignoring messages is not how I like to do business.” He proffered his hand to shake. “Let’s try this again. I’m pleased to meet you.”
“You really want to squeeze my injured hand with that big
paw of yours?”
The genuine concern in his widening eyes teased a smile from her. She extended her hand. “Joking,” she murmured, and they shook, a quick greeting. Maddie’s stomach fluttered with discomfort. She blamed it on the sheer size of him. He stood taller than Jack by almost half a foot and had a heavier build, though he appeared just as fit as Jack had been, and maybe even more so, judging from the spread of his cotton shirt over what Maddie judged to be a very masculine chest.
He radiated male energy that reminded her, by way of an unexpected tightening in her belly, that she hadn’t been touched by a man in a very long time. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Kinkaid.”
“Call me Maddie.” Eager to put distance between them she stepped away and gestured to the kitchen cabinets. “So, what do you think? Restore or replace?”
He ran a callused palm over the cabinet doors and eyed the chipped countertop and ’70s floor tiles, an abomination in avocado green and burnt orange.
“Are you just looking to do the cabinets, or do you plan to remodel the whole kitchen?”
“I guess that depends on the cost.” She crossed her arms and rested against the counter. He might be nice to look at, but there was no way he was talking her into a bigger job.
“Here’s the thing, Mrs. Kinkaid—Maddie. I don’t want you to go to the expense of restoring the cabinets and then have it all be for naught a year from now if you turn around and update the appliances and countertops. You’re better off designing the whole kitchen first so you know exactly what you want done, even if it takes you a couple years to do it, you know, a little bit at a time. That way you won’t waste any money.” His grin reappeared. “Think of it as having a road map before you set out on a trip. It’s best to have an end goal, know how you want the finished project to look.”
Maddie relaxed her stance. Maybe this guy wasn’t looking to talk her into anything, after all.
“Would you like some coffee? Or if you prefer something cold, I have sweet tea in the fridge.”
“No, thanks.” He flipped open the notebook and turned pages until he found a blank sheet. He tugged a pencil from the spiral binding and drew a rough sketch of her counters and cabinets.
“If you want to remodel for more space, then these cabinets will have to go. See? Something like this.” He showed her the sketch. “But if you love your layout and don’t want to change it, then restoring the cabinets is fine. If you like, I’ll draw up several designs so you have choices.”
Maddie sipped her coffee while Caleb inspected the cabinetry, took measurements, and jotted notes in his book. He moved around her kitchen, a big man at ease with his surroundings, handsome in a rugged, careless way.
Nothing like her GQ Jack.
He glanced up and caught her staring, and at his smile, Maddie turned away to refill her mug, taking longer than necessary to complete the chore.
“You sure you don’t want coffee? Or tea, or water, or, or anything?” She closed her eyes. Why was she babbling for heaven’s sake?
“No thanks.” If he was aware of her discomfiture, he didn’t let on. “Do you mind if I ask who referred me? My business is word of mouth, and I’d like to thank whoever gave you my name.”
“My husband, Jack. He told me—I mean—I found your contact information mixed with some documents on his desk.”
“Please tell him I said thank you. I’ll look forward to meeting him.”
“I will, sure. I mean, you can’t.” She cleared her throat. “My husband is gone. He was killed in a car accident.” She still couldn’t put her tongue around the words without tripping over them.
Those mossy-green eyes darkened and his expression sobered. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s been four years, but it feels like yesterday. I think of him like he’s still here. I talk to him.” The second the words popped out of her mouth, she wished them back. What a foolish thing to share with a stranger. She focused on her chunky mug, peered into it as if the answer to life resided inside, and imagined climbing into the cup to disappear beneath the brew.
“I understand completely.” His voice softened. “I still talk to my wife, too. Everyone thinks I’m crazy, but it helps.”
Maddie snapped her head up and a tingling flood of relief washed through her. He didn’t think she was a total nut job. He got it.
“What happened with your wife? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Cancer. Our son, TJ, had just turned two and we were hoping for another baby, but it wasn’t happening.” He glanced away, and the muscle in his jaw tightened. “Gwen was already a stage four. I lost her three years ago.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He acknowledged her comment with a single nod, and his mouth curved into a crooked smile. “Moving on is tough. But you know that.”
“Yes.”
The word required no response and he offered none, but continued to regard her with those amazing eyes. Her cheeks burned and she guessed he recognized her ridiculous embarrassment because, as she looked away, he tapped the notebook against his palm and said, “Okay, well. I’ll call you after I’ve drawn up some sketches with pricing so you’ll have an idea of what your options are.”
“Great,” Maddie squeaked and felt the fire in her cheeks heat up another degree.
“Do you have any ideas I should take into consideration?”
Maddie cleared her throat. “Oh, no, not really. I just want to update what’s here. I’m not very creative in the design department.”
“Nothing has to be set in stone. We can go over my designs, which might spark some of your own.”
“That sounds good.”
Cal faced her and jangled his keys. Their eyes met again and Maddie tingled with uncomfortable awareness.
“Please tell Jack I said thanks.”
Maddie waved goodbye from the doorway and returned to the kitchen where Caleb Walker’s presence lingered. Her stomach tumbled, and she pressed her hand to her abdomen to ease the unfamiliar giddiness.
Caleb Walker understood. And stranger or not, he was the only person in her world who did.
She allowed the invisible tractor beam that was Jack’s study to draw her in. She sat in his oversized chair, relaxed and in her comfort zone at last.
“Thanks, Jack. You were right. He’s a nice guy. Okay, so listen, your mom invited me for dinner, but I don’t really feel like going. I haven’t been over there since school let out, so I know I should go, but I’m feeling lazy. What do you want me to do? Stay home or go to your mom’s?”
Maddie closed her eyes and began her ritual. She poked through the papers until her fingers stopped on one in particular. She pulled it free of the pile and opened her eyes to find she had grasped a yellow Post-it note.
“Pick up dry cleaning. Really, Jack? C’mon. Help me out here.”
There. A pale pink scrap tucked up under the blotter caught Maddie’s eye. She recognized it as coming from her own spiral notebook and read the shopping list written in Jack’s script—2# gr beef, bread crumbs, eggs, chili sauce, onion. Goose bumps rose on her arms, standing the fine hairs on end.
The items on the list were ingredients for meatloaf, which her motherin-law, Edie, was fixing for dinner.
“Okay, Jack. Guess I’m going to dinner.”
She tucked the paper back into the pile, closed her eyes again, and rested her head against the high back of the chair. She breathed in the scent of the room.
Sometimes, she imagined she caught a whiff of Jack’s spicy aftershave, but the fleeting sensation stayed somewhere beyond reach and, deep inside, she knew it was just wishful thinking.
Caleb Walker hadn’t smelled like aftershave. He smelled of sunshine and the outdoors, clean, earthy, and warm.
Maddie’s eyes flew open. Sweet Lord, where did that come from? Unexpected guilt erupted in her chest and coursed through her in a shameful gush. How could she think of another man, any man, while sitting in Jack’s chair, at Jack’s desk, in Jack’s study?
“It didn’t mean anything, Jack,” she whispered and assured herself it was true.
A few minutes later, Maddie stood upstairs in the master bathroom brushing her teeth. She turned the faucet off, wiped her mouth on a towel and waited, ears attuned. There it was again, faint but audible: drip…drip…drip.
“Great.”
She dropped to her knees, opened the cabinet, and peered inside. And there it was, a slow drip coming from the pipe. Any slower and it would be nonexistent, which meant it was not an emergency. Thank goodness.
After living in the house for almost five years, Maddie was used to the breakdown of its aging parts. The home and property had been a steal, one that she and Jack jumped on because it offered the private location they preferred at a price they could afford. They bought the place knowing that renovation was a mandatory feature, but in the aftermath of Jack’s death, restoration of the old farmhouse had, for Maddie, lost its appeal.
A glance at the clock told her she didn’t have time to mess with the leak now, anyway, if she was going to make it to her motherin-law’s in time for dinner. She pushed aside the cleaning supplies stashed under the sink to make room for a bucket to catch the dripping water, and made a mental note to call a plumber first thing in the morning.
In a rush now, she changed from her cut-offs and tee into a bright yellow sundress and sandals, let loose her ponytail and gave her dark hair a quick run through with the brush, grabbed her purse, and headed for dinner at the Kinkaids’.
She stopped at the floral shop inside the grocery store on her way into town and bought a bright bouquet of daisies and tiger lilies, because she never showed up at Edie Kinkaid’s door empty handed.
It was a ritual they both enjoyed, and Maddie saw no reason to change it.
She took her time on the drive, slowing with traffic when she neared the center of town. A quick scan of license plates firmed her assumption that most of the delay was due to tourists from counties south who had traveled north to enjoy Bright Hills’ quaint shops and mountain air. Brenna’s Lump & Grind would no doubt benefit from the influx of visitors, and with that thought came a longing for designer caffeine and sugar.