Currant Creek Valley (18 page)

Though she hadn’t had time for dinner, she couldn’t bear the thought of food right now. A glass of wine, maybe, to celebrate. She found a bottle in the back of the refrigerator and pulled out a wineglass from the cabinet.

She poured a small amount and then on impulse headed for the door leading to her small backyard and patio. She could sit on the back step in the moonlight and listen to the rippling water of Currant Creek and toast herself for a job well done.

She decided the moon offered enough illumination so she opened the door without turning on the outside lights.

Her mind on the long day at the restaurant and all the preparation she needed to do for the dinner crowd tomorrow—tonight, now—she made it down three steps before she suddenly realized something was very different from the way she had left things.

The wineglass almost slipped from her finger but she managed to hang on to it.

What in the world?

In the moonlight, a dark low-slung shape took pride of place, angled toward the creek. A chair, wrapped in a bow.

For just an instant, she thought this might be a gift from her very own Angel of Hope but then reality intruded. The Angel visited the wounded, the downtrodden, those who were struggling with pain and loss.

Everything in her life was going exactly the way she wanted. Why on earth would the Angel waste time on her?

Not the Angel. Sam.

What you need is a big comfortable chair right there on the back patio so you can unwind out here with the sound of the water. While your dog plays in the grass, of course
.

Those had been his words, the day he and Ethan had first come to her house. She remembered them as clearly as if he were standing here now.

Sam had done this. She was suddenly sure of it. She rushed back up the steps and flipped on the porch lights so she could see better.

It was stunning. Built in the Adirondack style, of red cedar stained to show the wood grain, the chair had wide armrests and a curving back. A matching leg rest angled down and looked just the thing for relaxing on a summer afternoon.

Beside it was a small round table of the same cedar, the perfect size for holding a pitcher of lemonade and a paperback novel.

She traced a hand over the wood, smooth as chocolate ganache. Beautiful. Simply beautiful.

He had made this. She knew it. Warmth burst through her like fireworks over Hope’s Crossing in July and she quickly peeled away the ribbon in the half light of the moon.

That owl—probably the same one who had been keeping her company on her late-night walks—hooted from the treetops of the cottonwoods along the creek. For once, the sound didn’t leave her melancholy. She was too busy being delighted at the gift.

He’d left a note, she saw, taped to the back of the chair. It was too dark to make out the words, even with plenty of moonlight, so she held it up to the glow from the light fixture beside the back door.

With all your hard work today, I figured your bones would probably need a place to rest. Now,
this
is a sanctuary
.

She clutched the note to her chest. Oh, she was in trouble. Sam Delgado was becoming very good at sneaking his way under all her defenses. She was beginning to forget all the reasons she needed to keep trying.

All evening, she hadn’t been able to resist peeking through the kitchen doors every once in a while and somehow her gaze had always seemed to fall on Sam. The only thought that had played through her mind whenever she had seen him was how
right
he looked, laughing and joking with her family and friends, just as if he had been part of the group forever.

She eased into the chair cushion he had thoughtfully provided. The chair was ergonomically perfect, providing exactly the right support. Her weary bones definitely needed this.

She smiled and then laughed out loud as she sat on her back patio while the creek rippled over rocks, its song an endless comfort.

Yes. Finally, here on her back patio, came the joy and happiness that had been missing all evening. How had Sam instinctively guessed what would make the night perfect?

And how on earth was she supposed to be able to resist a man who was capable of such sweet thoughtfulness?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

E
VERYTHING
SEEMED
TO
BE
falling into place. Well, nearly everything. Tuesday night, four days after Alex opened her restaurant, Sam turned onto his street just as the sun sank down behind the mountains. He was starving and exhausted but also filled with a great sense of achievement.

The recreation-center work was ahead of schedule, on schedule to be finished on time for the Giving Hope Day. His four-man crew from Denver had been working double shifts to finish the job, in addition to six temporary workers he had hired on to help.

Like Alex’s restaurant, the work had been nearly done at the rec center before he had been hired on. He felt a little like a cleanup batter in baseball. His job had been to come in and wrap up all the little details—finishing the trim in a few rooms, hanging some doors, putting in cabinets for the administrative offices.

The town leaders, through a generous grant from Harry Lange, had spared no expense on the facility. From the exterior landscaping to the enormous exercise facility to the meeting rooms spread throughout, the building seemed to be a labor of love.

The vast indoor pool, especially, with those full-length windows overlooking Silver Strike Canyon, should be a huge hit during the long high-mountain winters when it was finished.

Ethan would love it and Sam had found unique satisfaction working on something he and his son and the rest of their adopted town could enjoy for years to come.

He smiled thinking of his son. He had ended up staying at his brother’s house in Denver all weekend, helping Nicky with a few last-minute repairs on his house in preparation for renting it out while they were in Europe.

Ethan had helped him, proud as punch to wear his miniature tool belt. This morning when he left to drive back to Hope’s Crossing, he put the pickup in gear and started to hit the gas to back out of the driveway and heard a noise coming from the backseat of his king cab.

Upon investigation, he found Ethan hiding under a jacket he had tossed on the backseat.

“I miss you, Dad. Why can’t I come with you now? We’re not doing anything in school but dumb stuff like Field Day and cleaning out our desks.”

He had hugged his son. “Two more weeks, kid. We can both make it, can’t we?”

As much as he missed his son, he needed a few more weeks to ready everything. He had spent his lunch hours looking into possible summer day-care situations that might work for his extended hours. Ideally, he would like to hire a housekeeper-slash-nanny—but until he had time to whip the house into shape, he wasn’t sure he could find anybody willing to work in a construction zone.

He had finally managed to get Ethan back into his brother’s house for breakfast and school before making the long drive here to the recreation center.

Now he had a full evening of work to make sure his son had a place to sleep where the ceiling wouldn’t fall in on him during the night.

Both of them deserved to have a little stability, especially after the chaos of the past few months.

He was so busy thinking about the tasks ahead of him for the coming evening that he completely missed the visitor waiting for him on his front porch until he started to climb the steps.

Some ex-soldier he was. Out in the field, that could have been a deadly mistake.

He actually had two visitors, he realized. A long-limbed dog with fur the color of fine Belgian chocolate sat waiting for him on the top step, tongue lolling out and tail sweeping across the wooden slats of the porch floor.

If Leo was here, Alexandra had to be, too. His heartbeat kicked up, much to his dismay. He had missed her these past few days, as ridiculous as that seemed. He looked farther on to the shadows and found her curled up on his porch swing, sound asleep.

Apparently she was working overtime, as well. She looked comfortable, with her face pressed into the pillow and one hand tucked under her cheek. She was more relaxed than he had ever seen her, soft and warm and lovely.

He remembered what her friend Claire had said.

She likes to think she’s tough, bold
....
She just might be the most vulnerable person I know, with the biggest heart.

She probably wouldn’t appreciate him seeing her like this but he couldn’t bring himself to wake her, not when she had that smudge of exhaustion under her eyes.

If the swing had been a little bigger, he would have climbed on there with her. Instead, he leaned a hip against the porch railing and reached a hand down to pet her dog, aware of a rare and precious contentment seeping through him.

She didn’t sleep for long, much to his disappointment. Maybe she sensed his presence or maybe she simply had too much energy coiled up in that compact frame to sleep soundly in these conditions.

After a few moments, her eyelids began to flutter. She came to full consciousness in an instant. One minute she was breathing deeply, the next she jerked upright and scrubbed at her face.

“I fell asleep.”

She said the words in an accusatory tone, as if he were to blame, and he had to smile.

“Looks like.”

“How did that happen?”

“I’m guessing you finally stopped moving for five seconds and closed your eyes.”

“Probably.” She raked a hand through her tangled hair. “I didn’t mean to. I’ve just been so busy. The swing was so comfortable. I was only going to rest for a second, while I waited for you....”

She crossed her arms across her chest suddenly and that delicious sleepy-eyed warmth turned into a glower. “Where have you been?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry. Did I miss curfew?”

“I’ve been trying to find you for three days and you just...disappeared.”

He knew he shouldn’t have this little spurt of happiness that she had been looking for him, not when she had made it clear she thought they were a disastrous combination.

“I spent the weekend in Denver with my brother and his family. Ethan and I were helping do some things around their house to help make things ready for them to rent it out while they’re in Europe. I drove back this morning and headed straight for the job site.”

“Oh. That explains it.”

“And I’ve been working every spare minute at the recreation center.”

“Are you finished?”

“Close. We’ve got a few more things to do.”

Hard work was good for the soul, right? He continued to pet her dog, something else good for the soul.

“You needed me for something?”

She gazed at him for a long moment and he saw something hot flash in her eyes before she quickly concealed it. “Er, yes. This is for you.”

From the other side of the porch swing, she slid out a cooler he hadn’t noticed.

“What’s all this?”

Pink bloomed on her cheeks. “That chair. That was...an amazing gift.”

He wanted to kiss those cheekbones. Start there and work his way to her mouth and then wherever else he could touch. “It seemed a shame to waste such a perfect spot, there along the creek. You needed a proper chair.”

“It’s perfect,” she said, her voice soft. “Really wonderful. I’ve sat out there every night since you left it for me.”

“That’s what I was hoping.”

He didn’t tell her the chair was part of his master strategy, demonstrating to this prickly, independent woman that she didn’t have to do everything by herself. Sometimes leaning on somebody else once in a while could be immensely rewarding.

“Thank you. It was...extraordinarily thoughtful of you.”

“I had fun building it,” he assured her. “Ethan helped, as I’m sure he’ll be sure to tell you when he sees you again. He hammered in several of the nails.”

“Then I will cherish it even more.”

The chair had only taken a couple of evenings the week before. Yeah, it was time he could have been spending working on making the house ready but he was suddenly very glad he had decided to devote a little energy to this. He liked seeing her flustered and a little off balance.

Her foot nudged the cooler. She was wearing flip-flops and her toenails were painted a rosy pink. He could always start there and kiss his way up....

“This pales in comparison as a thank-you,” she said, “but it’s the best I could do.”

“Okay, you’ve piqued my curiosity. What is it?”

“Stick with what you do best, right? In my case, that’s food.”

He opened the lid and discovered three stacks of neatly wrapped containers, each with handwriting on the top. One read Chicken Parmesan, he saw at first glance, another Portobello Ravioli, Pork Tenderloin on yet another. There were more but that was all he could see.

“I guess you could say this is my version of TV dinners. Everything should be labeled and most of it can be heated in the microwave. Of course, it won’t be as good as when I originally cooked it, but it’s the next-best thing.”

“There must be a dozen meals in here.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t really count. But most of the serving sizes are probably big enough for you and Ethan both.”

He hated cooking and considered it his hardest task as a single father, coming up with something nutritious and half-decent that Ethan would actually eat. Having that worry taken away would be a huge plus.

“I’m astonished,” he said honestly. “Completely astonished. This will be a great break from fast food.”

She shrugged. “Like I said, I know my strengths and most of them involve a kitchen somewhere.”

“I will love this. So will Ethan. Thank you.”

Color seeped along her cheekbones. “It hardly seems commensurate. I’m a little embarrassed, if you want the truth. I’ll be enjoying the chair you made me for years to come while you’ll probably polish off the last meal in a few weeks.”

“You didn’t have to do anything like this, Alexandra. I gave you that chair because I wanted to. I didn’t expect anything in return.”

That seemed to fluster her. “Yes, well, I appreciate it. More than I can say. Um, we should probably put these in the freezer as soon as possible. I can’t believe I fell asleep and left them sitting out this long. I should have just gone back to my house and put them back in the freezer while I watched for you from the window.”

“You looked as if you needed the nap.”

“It’s been a crazy few days. The restaurant is closed on Tuesdays but I spent most of today cooking for you and some other friends.”

He hoped she still considered him a friend, despite everything else that simmered between them. “Come on inside. Let’s see if I can find room in the freezer.”

He unlocked the door and led the way inside, aware as he did that the house was cluttered with construction mess, especially the living room. The family room in the back was moderately livable but he had been using this room to store all the supplies and paint cans. Sawhorses, trouble lights and ladders cluttered the floor.

She apparently didn’t notice. “Wow, look at all the progress you’ve made!”

“All I can see is how much I still have to do.”

“No, it’s beautiful. Those crown moldings are gorgeous! I never would have guessed they were hiding beneath all those layers of paint.”

“Amazing what a little elbow grease can do. Let me put these things away and then I’ll take you on the grand tour.”

In the kitchen, she exclaimed again over the new cabinetry he had installed and the pendant lights over the island that replaced the old fluorescent fixture.

“Wow! I can’t believe how far the house has come in only a few weeks. Do you ever sleep?”

“When I can.”

The few hours he did catch had been more than a little restless lately, occupied with a certain lovely chef, but he decided telling her that particular detail would only make him sound pathetic.

“Well, it’s amazing.”

He lifted a shoulder. “You like cooking things, I like this. Taking something rough and unfinished, turning it into a warm, comfortable space. Finish carpentry is the very best part of construction work, in my opinion. The bare-bones work has its place, but I get to see immediate results.”

“I am really impressed, Sam. I guess I shouldn’t be. I’ve spent plenty of time in the kitchen you built. and the chair you—and Ethan—made me has become the most comfortable spot in my house or outside it.”

“Come on. Let me give you the tour.”

He showed her Ethan’s room, close to completion, the new tile work in the main bathroom, the shower he was completely rebuilding in the master bathroom.

“Wonderful,” she said when they circled back to the kitchen. “You’re doing a fantastic job. I’m sure you and Ethan will be very comfortable here.”

“I sensed that from the first moment I looked at the house. It felt
right.
I can’t explain it. I only know this is where we need to be.”

“Just like you knew Hope’s Crossing was a good place to call home after one afternoon at the pizza parlor.”

“I know you think I’m ridiculous.”

“No. I get it.” Her voice was soft. “Sometimes you have to go with your gut. You’re a good father. Ethan is lucky to have you.”

Her words were warm but her expression was resigned, almost sad, for reasons he didn’t understand.

“I’d better let you get back to your evening. All the instructions should be on the food. I know from experience they’re all freezer friendly and should warm up well. And when you run out, let me know and I can drop off more.”

“Keep a ready supply of meals-on-wheels, do you?”

“Something like that. Good night.”

She reached for the door but he made a countermove and blocked her way. “Can I ask you something?”

She stood only a few feet from him, and her clean, sweet scent of vanilla and Alexandra reached right in and grabbed his gut.

“What?” she asked, her voice and her stance wary.

“What am I doing wrong?”

She shifted and he saw nerves flicker in her green eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you do. We’ve got this heat between us. I know you feel it. But you seem determined to treat me like just another of your many casual friends. Like you would Brodie Thorne or Mr. Phillips next door.”

“I hope you and I are friends. I’m a generally friendly person.”