A Fair of the Heart, Welcome To Redemption, Book1

Copyright 2011 Donna Kowalczyk

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living
or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely
coincidental.

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“I believe this is yours.”

Lauren Frazier met the teasing gaze of the
handsome stranger standing on her porch as he handed over the knob
to her front door. She promptly burst out laughing, examining the
ancient piece of crap with a shake of her head.

“Sorry,” she said, bringing it down to a
chuckle. “But the handle on my back door fell off earlier this
morning.”

The stranger grinned. “I might stay home
today, if I were you.”

“Ya think?” She tossed the knob on the floor
beside the shoe rack and stepped back. “So, what can I do for
you?”

His keen brown eyes searched her living room
and then the kitchen, his confusion obvious. “I’m not sure if I’m
in the right place…do you cut hair?”

“I do. Sorry, the beauty shop sign fell off
the house a few weeks ago.”

His lips twitched. “I need a trim. The
librarian recommended you. Said you work out of your home.” He held
out his hand. “Caleb Hunter.”

“I’ll have to send Matt a thank-you note.
Lauren Frazier.” She shook his hand, and then gestured him inside.
“I work out of my mud room. It’s just off the kitchen.”

He followed her through the house into the
mudroom, which doubled as both her laundry room and her
single-chair hair salon.

After a quick glance around, he sat down in
the barber chair and leaned back with his long legs sprawled out.
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen one of these in someone’s house
before.”

“I got a deal on it from a salon in Green Bay
that closed last year.” Lauren studied him from the corner of her
eye as she pulled out a clean plastic cape and her trimming shears.
Roughly six feet tall, with broad shoulders, slim hips, and a
muscular upper body, Mr. Caleb Hunter could have walked right off
the cover of GQ magazine. He had big, bedroom brown eyes, full sexy
lips, and a patrician nose that looked as if it’d seen a fist or
two. His crowning glory, a thick mop of wavy auburn hair, needed at
least an inch trimmed off—Lauren itched to run her fingers through
it.

Thank you, Matt
.

She stepped up behind him and covered him
with the cape, securing it with a hair clip. His heady masculine
scent assailed her senses, and Lauren resisted the urge to lean in
and get a big whiff of his spicy aftershave. Whoa, girl, get a
grip. He met her gaze in the mirror, and she swore she saw blatant
interest in his eyes. She ran a comb through his hair. “You’ve got
a gorgeous head of hair, Caleb Hunter. So, who’s to thank, your mom
or dad?”

He cleared his throat, and if Lauren didn’t
know any better, she’d swear her innocent little question had upset
him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to pry. It’s part of the
job, you know? Make small talk.”

“I know. It’s just...I lost my mother
recently.”

Lauren’s hands froze. “I’m so sorry. Open
mouth, insert foot. That’s me.”

“You couldn’t have known. Don’t worry about
it.”

Lauren nodded and got back to work on his
hair. She’d love to ask him a few more questions, like what’s his
sign, boxers or briefs, top or bottom, but thought better of it.
Good God, the man’s mother just died. Not to mention, the last
thing she wanted or needed was a man in her life—although if Bob
Vila showed up on her doorstep right about now, she’d drop down on
bended knee so fast it’d make his head spin.

She met Caleb’s gaze in the mirror again.
“So, are you planning to go to the fair this weekend?”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he admitted.
“Guess I might take a walk through.”

After brushing the hair clippings from his
neck and shoulders, Lauren swept the cape away and tried to hand
him a mirror.

He waved it away and pulled out his wallet.
“I’m sure it’s fine. So what do I owe you?”

“Ten bucks.” She accepted the twenty he
handed her and opened her cashbox to pull out a ten.

“Keep it,” he said. “Put it toward a new
doorknob.”

With a grateful nod, she stuck the bill back
in the box. “Thanks.”

Caleb winked at her and turned to leave. He
stepped on a loose floorboard on his way to the door. “Your
husband’s not much of a handyman, is he?”

“I’m divorced. And, no, he never was much of
a handyman. Philandering? Now, there’s a sport he excelled at.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

She waved him off. “Consider us even in the
foot-in-mouth department.”

He held her gaze for a moment, and then
casually glanced around. Lauren inwardly cringed. By the time her
ex had left her for greener pastures of the big-boobed variety, the
house had pretty much been falling down around her ears. And with
only one income to pay the bills, mortgage, and take care of her
two kids, there wasn’t much leftover for home repairs.

“I’m not very handy either, as you can see.”
She shrugged, making no apologies for her lack of carpentry
skills.

He surprised her with a soft chuckle. “Yep.
Got that. Listen, I have some free time later this afternoon. It
wouldn’t take me long to do some general repairs.”

Lauren stared at him for several heartbeats,
at a loss for words. No one had ever offered to help before. “I
appreciate it, but...well, truth is I wouldn’t be able to pay you
much. And by much, I mean nothing.” She gave him a cheeky grin.

“I wouldn’t accept your money anyway. I was
thinking more along the lines of old-fashioned bartering.”

She crossed her arms and cocked a brow.
“You’re entering dangerous territory, Mr. Hunter.” Okay, so the guy
was a hottie. Didn’t mean she’d jump into bed with him to get a few
doorknobs reattached or a few loose boards nailed down. Or the
closet door in Emma’s room put back on track, or the screen in
Max’s bedroom window patched, or replacing the vanity door hinges
in the upstairs bathroom, or—

“I meant supper, Ms. Frazier. As in a
home-cooked meal? Haven’t had one in years and thought a couple
hours of home repairs might be worth some meatloaf and mashed
potatoes, maybe some buttered rolls.”

Lauren’s cheeks grew hot, surprising her.
Blushing? Her? Now there’s a novelty. “I can do supper. Although my
son, Max, might run away from home if I made meatloaf. How about
chicken and rice bake, and some of those pop-open crescent
rolls?”

“Throw in dessert, and it’s a deal.”

Lauren leaned a hip against the wall. “Well,
now, dessert is a whole other ballgame. Especially ‘home-cooked’
dessert.”

He grinned. “Name your price.”

“Max’s bottom dresser drawer. It’s been stuck
shut for months.”

“Chocolate?”

“What else?”

He stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

* * *

Caleb stopped at the library on his way back
to Lauren’s house to recheck-out the Electrician’s Handbook. Matt
Jacobs looked up when he entered, a grin replacing his studious
frown.

“Finally got that mop trimmed, I see. So, did
you end up going to Lauren or old man Krause?”

Caleb set the book on the counter and browsed
through the stack waiting to be put back on the shelves. “I got
called into the barbershop to fix some shelving yesterday. Old man
Krause’s hand was shaking so hard, it’s a miracle he didn’t clip
his customer’s ear off. I went to Lauren’s.”

Matt laughed. He walked over and picked up
the handbook. “What do you think? Ready for the exam?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. I’d like to check it
back out, though, read it one last time before I take the exam.
Probably next Friday.”

“Thinking about staying in Redemption
then?”

Caleb swiped his hand through his newly shorn
hair. After returning to the states from active duty, he hadn’t
felt...comfortable returning to his hometown. He’d ended up heading
to Chicago with a fellow army buddy, where he’d spent the last
thirteen years doing carpentry work, plumbing, and even dabbling in
electricity. He’d discovered a talent for the latter, and after
several months of studying, finally felt ready to take the
licensing exam.

But stay in Redemption permanently? Truth be
told, he was torn. He’d only meant to stay for a few days, but upon
returning home for his mother’s funeral, Caleb had felt the
strongest sense of peace. Usually, he couldn’t wait to get the hell
outta Dodge.

He’d talked to his boss just the night
before, and the gruff old codger had made it clear—Caleb had one
week to return, or he wouldn’t have a job waiting for him when he
did. And yet, despite the warning, Caleb took on two more jobs just
that morning, extending his stay in Redemption indefinitely.

It wasn’t as if he had anyone special waiting
for him back in Chicago anyway. Caleb had dated plenty of women
over the years, but he’d never been the relationship type. Not that
he couldn’t be faithful to one woman. He’d just never met one that
held his interest long enough, or that he’d wanted to get to know
on a deeper level.

Until today.

“It’s a definite possibility.” Caleb tossed
his keys and caught them with a jingle. “Catch you later,
Matt.”

He arrived at Lauren’s house around
three-thirty. She stood on the front porch waving a brand new
doorknob assembly, still in the package, and sporting a huge grin.
A white tank top and stonewashed low rider Levis showed off a great
tan and incredible body. Her shoulder-length, honey blond curls
were held up on either side of her beautiful face by gold
barrettes, and small hoops hung from her earlobes. Eyes as blue as
Lake Michigan twinkled up at him.

“Love the tool belt,” she said, gesturing him
inside.

“I have backup in my car. Electric drill,
power saw, grenades.”

“Funny.”

He stepped inside and sniffed the air. “Wow,
if chicken bake tastes as good as it smells, I may start breaking
your furniture myself.”

“No need. I make it at least once a week.
Both my kids love it.”

At that moment, an adorable little pipsqueak
dashed in from the kitchen, blond curls bobbing all around. She
wrapped her arms around Lauren’s legs and gazed up at him with
wide-eyed curiosity. She was the spitting image of her mother,
complete with a perfect Cupid’s bow mouth, flawless alabaster skin,
and those same gorgeous blue eyes. In twenty years, she’d also have
Lauren’s incredible figure—slim and sleek, yet curved in all the
right places.

Caleb crouched down and winked at her. She
couldn’t have been more than three years old. “Hey, punkin, my
name’s Caleb. What’s yours?”

“Em-ma.” She glanced up at her mother. “I not
puck’in.”

Lauren ruffled her daughter’s curls. “It just
means cutie pie. Like what I call you.”

“Oh.” She turned back to Caleb and squinted
thoughtfully. “Momma make choc’it cake. I helped.”

Caleb’s heart swelled in his chest. He had to
clear his throat to speak. “And I bet it’s the yummiest chocolate
cake ever.”

Emma gave a solemn nod, and then skipped off
into the kitchen.

Caleb stood back up and met Lauren’s gaze.
“Well? What should I tackle first?”

She held up the new doorknob package. “Being
able to lock my doors at night is my number one priority. And thank
you. Again.”

Caleb felt as if he were drowning in those
big baby blues. “My pleasure. You did, after all, make ‘choc’it’
cake.”

Lauren grinned. “From scratch, too.”

“Well, then, guess I’d better go earn my
supper.”

By the time he’d put the new knob on the
front door and reattached the handle to the back screen door,
supper was just about ready. He decided a stuck drawer would take
all of five minutes, and had Lauren direct him to Max’s room.