Baby, Come Home (5 page)

She stopped at the four-wheeler and lifted the seat to stow her camera equipment, then reached for the folding screen he held. “Thanks.”

Then she climbed on, started the engine and took off before he could even reach the ATV he’d driven over. He goosed the gas to keep up with her, flashing back to when they were teenagers, riding horses all over this countryside. He had always lagged behind on purpose, so he could see Amy’s wild hair fly behind her and watch her tight little behind snug against the saddle. He’d loved chasing her…and apparently things hadn’t changed—except for the catching part. He followed her back to the construction office, saddened when the ride ended, already loath to be away from her.

She was off the ATV and striding toward town before he could regroup.

“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” he called. “Maybe we can catch up.”

She turned, still moving, her hands full of equipment. “No, thanks. If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep things between us strictly business. I’ll see you on the jobsite.” Then she turned and kept going.

Kendall watched her walk away and had to keep himself from running after her. He hadn’t been successful in convincing Amy to stay in Sweetness last time. But he had three months to do it this time.

Starting with dinner tonight with Porter and Nikki.

6

A
my looked at her reflection in the mirror in her bedroom and worked her mouth back and forth. Was a skirt too dressy for dinner with Nikki downstairs in the rear great room? It seemed like a pretty casual atmosphere, but since Amy was usually in sturdy, sensible clothes on jobsites during the day, she tried to dress up after hours. The memory of standing in the shadow of Kendall’s splashy “friend” Rachel cinched her decision not only to go with the outfit as planned, but to add hoop earrings, high heels and the Topaz ring that Tony had given her for Christmas. It was always better to be overdressed than underdressed.

She glanced at her watch—she was still twenty minutes early. Enough time to call Tony, she realized, although it wasn’t something she was looking forward to under the circumstances. Guilt stabbed at her, impelling her to pick up her cell phone and punch in his number. When the phone rolled over to his voice mail, she wondered if he was really busy, or if he was avoiding her calls. He hadn’t been overjoyed about her leaving Broadway without him and had asked a lot of questions. Had he picked up on the fact that she hadn’t been completely forthcoming about her connection to the town for which she was building a bridge?

“Hi, sweetie, it’s me.” She wet her lips. “I just wanted to let you know that I made it to Sweetness, Georgia, and I have cell phone service, so call me whenever you want to.” She hesitated, knowing how much he disliked her being too effusive, but it had been an emotional day. “I love you,” she murmured, then disconnected the call, her heart squeezing over all the conflict they’d endured the past year, for which she felt largely responsible. She was looking forward to better times once she returned to Broadway…once she got some closure on the situation with Kendall Armstrong.

She walked across the second-floor bedroom she’d been assigned—a pretty room decorated in chocolate-brown and sage-green—and glanced out the window, down at the new town of Sweetness. Dusk was settling quickly. A tall light illuminated the area in front of the boardinghouse. Across the street, the dining hall was lit up, and the headlights of two cars rolling down the main street cast beams on what appeared to be freshly painted pedestrian crosswalks.

The town would need sidewalks soon. In her mind, she visualized the wooden forms that would have to be built to contain the leveled concrete snaking down both sides of the asphalt road. She could pour them in her sleep, even in this cold weather, and she could incorporate recycled materials like tumbled glass to give them a custom look. Maybe she’d suggest to Marcus—

Amy caught herself. This wasn’t her town, and she wasn’t about to start making suggestions that would add projects to her to-do list. She was here to design a covered bridge—in and out.

She stepped back from the window and walked into the bathroom to frown at her auburn hair that was showing increasing signs of frizz. All those rainy, snowy days in Broadway, and she was able to keep it under control. A few hours in this place in the dead of winter, and it was already kinking up like a pig’s tail.

She sighed and ran a boar bristle brush through her thick tresses, knowing it would buy her only a few minutes of smoothness, at best. Then she left her room and descended the stairs to the first floor in search of Nikki. Along the way, she passed several women, all smiling and laughing and apparently happy to be there, lots of children who seemed to travel in friendly packs, and a few men who were apparently only visiting because, as she’d read in the boardinghouse rules, males were not allowed in the boardinghouse overnight.

A quaint regulation…very Southern…but comforting, Amy acknowledged. And clever, because it would spur the town to grow faster since couples who wanted to live together had no choice but to build their own home. She wondered if Nikki and Porter were on the fast track to marriage. She also wondered if Nikki realized what a feat she’d accomplished to corral one of the Armstrong brothers. They had always been the most confirmed bachelors in town. She knew that firsthand.

But what had Kendall said? That Nikki had
changed
Porter. Just thinking about it made her cheeks sting. It left her feeling inadequate that she hadn’t been able to
change
Kendall.

She found Nikki in the crowded common kitchen, sliding a pan into one of the large ovens. The atmosphere was festive and aromas tantalizing as women crowded around pots of pasta and shared thick chunks of warm bread. A couple of children ran through, snagging brownies from a plate. Amy looked after the laughing children with a tug of longing that she squashed as quickly as it rose. The family environment took her by surprise, and she could see why it would appeal to some people. But the trade-off was living in a fishbowl where opportunities were limited. She hadn’t left to educate herself only to come back and settle for something less than she could become.

“I hope Chicken Kiev is okay,” Nikki said, her cheeks pink from the heat. “I don’t have much of a cooking repertoire.”

Amy gave a little laugh. “That sounds pretty impressive to me. I usually eat frozen dinners. What can I do to help?”

“Pick up those wineglasses and follow me,” Nikki said, nodding to the countertop. She picked up a bottle of wine and a corkscrew and turned toward the opposite doorway.

Amy frowned at the number of wineglasses—four—but gathered them in her hands and followed Nikki down a hallway into the rear great room that apparently served as the main gathering place for residents to dine and watch TV. The computers that lined one wall were another surprise. The new Sweetness was wired and perhaps not as isolated as she’d imagined.

Nikki stopped at a square wooden table situated away from other tables and chairs that were largely occupied. From all the couples dining together, Amy surmised the ploy to bring women to Sweetness as companions for the Armstrongs’ workers had succeeded. Noticing the four salads on their own table, Amy balked. “Is someone joining us?”

Nikki cut the foil on a bottle of wine. “I hope you don’t mind if Porter eats with us. We typically have dinner together.”

“No, that’s fine.” Although she was a little disappointed that she and Nikki wouldn’t be able to catch up, she understood that she was the interloper here. Before she could ask about the fourth place setting, Nikki beamed at someone behind Amy.

“Here’s Porter now.”

Amy turned and smiled at Porter, who’d been a fresh-faced sophomore when she’d last seen him. He’d filled out and matured, but his wide grin and cleft chin were still prominent and recognizable, along with those infamous blue Armstrong eyes.

“Amy Bradshaw,” he said, extending both his hands to her and lowering a kiss on her cheek. “You grew up good.”

She blushed. “Still the sweet talker, Porter. The years have been kind to you, you devil.”

“I never thought I’d see you in Sweetness again.”

“That makes two of us,” she quipped. “Marcus can be persuasive.”

He grinned. “That isn’t the word I’d use, but Marcus seems to know how to get things done. And what good luck that you and my Nikki are friends.”

It was so like a Southern man to refer to his girlfriend in a possessive way. Amy expected Nikki to take offense at the “my” part, but instead she seemed inordinately pleased as Porter pulled her to his side for a squeeze.

Amy smiled. “Yes, it’s…fortuitous.”

“Anyway, it’s great to see you again.” He looked down at Nikki. “Who’s our fourth for tonight?”

“That would be me.”

Amy tensed at the sound of Kendall’s voice behind her. She slowly turned to see him, dressed in chino pants and filling out a deep blue collared shirt that reflected his eyes perfectly. He looked so handsome, her throat closed.

“If that’s okay with Amy,” he added, pinning her with his steady gaze.

“I invited Kendall,” Nikki said cheerfully. “To help welcome you home.”

Amy’s cheeks flamed. Nikki was the only one in their foursome who didn’t know she and Kendall had a history and had parted on less-than-friendly terms…unless Porter had filled her in.

“That was kind of you,” Amy managed to say. “Of course it’s fine.” She wasn’t going to be able to avoid Kendall, so she might as well get used to acting as if he didn’t affect her.

As if he didn’t make her heart race and her body warm with unbidden desire, just like old times.

Kendall gave her a little smile, as if he knew how much being nice was costing her. Then he stepped forward and handed Nikki a white bakery box.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Something for dessert.”

“How nice,” Nikki said. “Let me put this in the refrigerator and check on our dinner. Porter, will you pour the wine, please?”

“Sure thing, baby,” he drawled, but watched her until she left the room before turning back to them and the wine. As he uncorked the bottle, he whistled happily under his breath.

Baby.
Kendall used to call her baby, Amy recalled. She darted a look at him, but when she saw he was looking at her, she glanced all around, settling on the ceiling. “Nice trusses,” she offered. “Is this a modular building?”

Kendall nodded. “The clinic, too. And the General Store. We used reclaimed materials for siding on all the buildings except the clinic.”

“I could tell,” Amy said. “Are you planning to incorporate any reclaimed materials in the covered bridge?”

“We’ve been putting aside any boards we find that might’ve been used in the original bridge in the Lost and Found warehouse.”

She nodded. “I read on the website about the place where you’re storing things you find so former residents can claim them.”

“You’re welcome to walk through the warehouse,” Kendall said, “or look over the lists to see if you recognize anything that might’ve belonged to your family.”

She shook her head. “Thanks, but there’s nothing from here that I want.” When she realized how brusque she sounded, she conjured up a little smile. “But I’d like to see the materials you have set aside for the bridge.”

“I seem to remember the two of you hanging out at the bridge a lot,” Porter offered.

Amy swung her head to stare at him and felt Kendall’s gaze follow hers. Porter looked back and forth between them, his expression innocent as he handed each of them a glass of red wine. “Oh, so we’re not supposed to talk about the elephant in the room?”

“What elephant in the room?” Nikki asked, returning.

“Amy and Kendall used to be a hot item,” Porter said nonchalantly, then handed her a glass of wine.

Nikki’s mouth rounded and she shot Amy an apologetic glance.

“It was a long time ago,” Amy said quickly.

“To old times,” Kendall said, lifting his glass, “and to building bridges.”

She couldn’t very well decline the toast, Amy thought wryly, lifting her glass to clink with the others. The bandage on Kendall’s thumb reminded her of his “favor” for Rachel Hutchins, and she took a deeper drink than she’d meant to.

Kendall looked at her over the rim of his glass, his expression soft and blurred. Was he thinking of graduation night, when they’d snuck a bottle of cheap zinfandel to the bridge and sat on the edge with legs dangling, drinking it from paper cups? It had made them tipsy and giggly and Kendall had made promises about all the adventures they’d have together. Afterward, they’d made such sweet love… It was the last really good memory she had of them together.

Days later, he’d left to join the Air Force while she’d been tethered to Sweetness to take care of the sickly aunt who’d taken her in. Amy’s loneliness had been exacerbated by her aunt’s bitterness and the nagging sense that she was missing out on the life she was meant to have. But when her aunt had passed away a scant few weeks later, Amy had been besieged with guilt, yet eager to leave. When Kendall had come home for the funeral, he’d backpedaled on the promises he’d made. He’d told Amy they shouldn’t be in such a rush to get married, that she should take some correspondence courses and that he’d be back for her. Heartbroken, she’d packed a bag and left Sweetness to strike out on her own.

And here she was, Amy mused, back in Sweetness and sharing another bottle of wine with the man who’d driven her away.

“Let’s sit,” Nikki offered, now noticeably nervous about the situation she’d created.

Amy felt compelled to put her friend at ease. After all, it was her fault for not mentioning sooner her true connection to the Armstrong family. Kendall held out her chair and she thanked him politely, then took a seat, not entirely pleased when he sat in the chair adjacent to hers. But in deference to her friend, Amy tried to relax and keep the conversation on neutral topics as the meal progressed.

Since the future seemed a safer subject than the past, she asked questions about the progress of the town, mostly directed at Porter and Nikki. If Kendall chose to respond, she took a bite of food or a drink from her glass to avoid eye contact. Twice under the table his knee brushed hers. She couldn’t tell if it was accidental or purposeful, but she was unnerved all the same by the sensations that bolted through her. Instead of growing more calm in his presence, every minute seemed to heighten the feelings she’d spent years trying to suppress.

The affection between Nikki and Porter was obvious. They often touched and shared private smiles that made Amy’s heart squeeze with admiration and envy. As the night wore on, she found herself stealing glances at Kendall and trying to figure out what he was thinking. But Kendall, ever the placid Armstrong, remained inscrutable.

When Nikki unveiled the “dessert” Kendall had brought, Amy’s pulse jumped.

“Double-fudge brownie cake,” Nikki announced, setting the decadent concoction on the table. She smiled at Kendall. “I didn’t know you had such a sweet tooth.”

Amy squirmed. Had he remembered her penchant for chocolate? The round cake was three layers high, dripping with dark fudge icing and topped with dark chocolate shavings. The sweet, rich aroma alone made her mouth water, but she steeled herself against the cravings that surged in her body. To her, the chocolate cake represented a meager effort to appease her. And after all these years, after all she’d been through, it was too little, too late.