Loving The Country Boy (Barrett's Mill Book 4) (3 page)

“Wow,” she said around a barely muted yawn, “you’re good.”

“Not really.” He chuckled. “That’s the third time you’ve yawned since we got here. Either you’re incredibly bored, or you’re not totally awake yet.”

He opened the driver’s door and motioned for her to get in. When she blinked at him, he realized she wasn’t following along. “It’s all yours.”

“You want me to drive?”

“You’re dropping me off, so that’s the easiest thing to do.” The sunlight glinted off the flecks of gold in her eyes, and he caught a spark of something he couldn’t quite put a finger on. But anyone could see he’d hit a nerve with her. “Am I wrong?”

“No, it’s just—” She stopped abruptly, and he waited for her to continue. Thankfully, her annoyance drifted away, leaving behind appreciation. “My ex always drove, even if we were in my car and he didn’t know where we were going. It kind of bugged me.”

“I can see why.” He could also understand why the guy was an ex. Anyone that heavy-handed wouldn’t last long with this very headstrong woman.

“It’s refreshing to be treated like someone with a perfectly good head on her shoulders,” she confided with a sigh.

“I can’t imagine treating you any other way,” Heath blurted before it occurred to him how a comment like that might come across to her. Her grateful smile eased his concern, though, and he was glad he’d spoken his mind.

“Thanks, Heath. That might not seem like much to you, but it means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome. Want a hand up?”

“No, I’ve got it.”

Standing on the toe of one high heel, she grasped the interior handle and pulled herself into the cab of the old pickup. He shut the door behind her and strolled around the truck before settling in on the other side. With a little coaching from him, she quickly got the hang of the vintage equipment, and he said, “You’re a natural. That clutch isn’t the best, but you’re doing fine.”

“You mean, for a girl?” she teased with a smirk.

Busted, he thought with a grin of his own. Since she didn’t seem offended, he figured it wasn’t an issue for her. “Sorry, but yeah. The women I’ve known couldn’t handle a brand-new manual transmission, much less this one.”

“I guess I’m not like them.”

That was an understatement, but he managed not to tell her so. Instead, he pointed out the turn that led to Main Street. With no power steering, the mill truck took some strength to maneuver, and as she made the sharp turn, she groaned with the effort. “This thing handles like a pontoon boat.”

Heath chuckled. “Driven a lot of those, have you?”

“Trust me, once was enough.”

“Must be a big change, coming here after spending so much time in California.”

“Yes, it is.”

She didn’t offer anything beyond that, but his instincts were telling him it wasn’t because she had nothing more to say. They were basically strangers, but he couldn’t shake the suspicion that she was holding something back.

None of his business, he cautioned himself as she pulled into the lot at Morgan’s Garage and put the truck in Park. All the Barretts were known for their stubborn streak, and despite her upper-class background, Tess seemed to have inherited it in spades. Harsh experience had taught him that the quickest way to irritate a woman was to step in where he wasn’t wanted and try to solve a problem she was confident she could handle on her own. Even if she was wrong.

Getting out, he walked over to the driver’s window and leaned his elbows on the frame. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

Her puzzled expression made it clear she had no clue what he was talking about. Then, slowly, understanding dawned in those stunning eyes, and she rewarded him with a grateful smile. “That’s sweet of you, but I’m fine. Really,” she added emphatically, as if she was trying to convince herself as much as him.

He thought he knew better, but he also knew this wasn’t the time to press. Pushing away from the pickup, he said, “Remember this old girl’s only got three gears, and her top speed is about forty. Any questions?”

“Actually, I do have one.” Angling to face him, she went on. “Why do so many guys refer to cars as female? I mean, women don’t call them ‘he’, so why do you call them ‘she’?”

She punctuated her question with an arched brow, and he couldn’t help laughing. “I got no idea. Keep her under forty, though, and you should do okay.”

“Not a Ferrari.” She added a sassy grin. “Got it.”

Stepping back, he waved as she left the parking lot and headed for the diner where he’d recommended she get her coffee. This morning had turned out nothing like he’d expected, he mused while he strolled inside to punch in.

With Tess in Barrett’s Mill for an extended visit, he had a feeling things around this quiet little town were going to get very interesting.

Chapter Three

T
he next morning Tess was pulling her hair into a chignon when her cell phone began playing the ringtone she’d assigned to Chelsea. It was too early in the day for a social call, and she dropped her brush in midstroke to answer it. “Hi, Chelsea. Is everything okay?”

“We had a terrible night, so we’re meeting the doctor at his office in half an hour. I’m so sorry to do this to you now. We barely had time to cover anything yesterday.”

The stress in her voice came through loud and clear, and she sounded on the verge of tears. The kitchen phone started ringing downstairs, and she assumed it was Paul calling Gram with the same update.

Wishing there was more she could do, Tess summoned a confident tone to reassure her distraught cousin-in-law. “He told you everything was okay at your appointment yesterday, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sure it’ll be the same today. Don’t worry about a thing except you and the baby. If I need something, the boys will be there to help me.”

“Jason and Scott?” Chelsea scoffed, “They don’t even know where we keep the coffee.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Tess promised, hoping she came across as self-assured and reliable. Handling things on her own today was the only option available, so there was no point in considering anything else. “Call when you have some news.”

“I will. Thanks so much, Tess. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Because no one had ever viewed her as more than just a pretty face, she’d never gotten that kind of praise in her life. Hearing it now felt incredible, and despite the very grown-up situation she now found herself in, she was smiling when she hung up. Her privileged upbringing had given her plenty of novel adventures through the years, but there was a lot to be said for being in a place where people valued you more for what you could do than how you looked.

When she was ready, she assessed her reflection and was stunned by the enthusiasm lighting the face that stared back at her. Without a drop of makeup, she looked better than she had in months, and she shook her head in amazement. After enjoying herself so much at Scott and Jenna’s wedding, she’d expected to appreciate the change of scenery here, but this was something else again.

Buoyed by the energy she felt, she all but skipped down the stairs into the kitchen. Gram was waiting there with a small paper bag and Tess’s stainless-steel travel mug, which was giving off the enticing aroma of something exotic. Taking them from her, Tess inhaled and grinned. “This is my favorite blend. Where on earth did you find it around here?”

“Diane brought it by on her way to the teen center earlier,” Gram explained. “She picked up a bag of it over in Cambridge for you.”

“I’ll have to thank Auntie later.” Taking a sip, she continued. “I’m assuming that was Paul on the phone a few minutes ago.”

Anxiety shadowed her grandmother’s eyes, and she nodded. “I’ve been praying ever since.”

“I’m sure they appreciate that.”

While Tess wasn’t big on religion herself, she knew it brought her grandmother a measure of comfort to feel as if she was doing something constructive rather than just worrying. Then again, if God listened to anyone, it wouldn’t surprise her to learn Olivia Barrett had a direct line to heaven.

“Have a good day, dear,” Gram said, giving her a quick hug. “If those cousins of yours give you too much trouble, you let me know and I’ll set them straight.”

Tess laughed, mostly because she knew the Barretts’ petite matriarch was only half kidding. “I think Jason and Scott know better than to mess with me, but it’s good to know you’ve got my back.”

Waving good-bye, she headed out to where the old mill truck sat in the driveway. Tess was certain Heath had fixed all its annoying idiosyncrasies, so she was totally unconcerned as she buckled herself into the driver’s seat and stowed her breakfast before blithely turning the key. Almost as if it was protesting the early hour, the engine began whining but refused to catch.

The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, and Tess wasn’t overjoyed about starting yet another day with car trouble. She couldn’t wait to get Gram’s stalwart Buick back, she groused silently. It might not be fancy, but it was a large, solid car, and while it wasn’t hers, it hadn’t given her a bit of trouble.

Unlike that fussy little sports car Avery drove, she thought with a frown.

Born into one of Napa Valley’s original vineyard families, at first he’d been enchanted by her undeniable independent streak.
More than just a pretty face
, she could still hear him saying during their engagement party, smiling proudly at the woman he’d chosen to spend the rest of his life with. If she’d known just how short-lived his devotion would be, she would have shoved him into the pool at his family’s estate instead of accepting the five-carat diamond ring he’d slipped on her finger.

Water under the bridge, she reminded herself, letting out a frustrated breath to cool her temper. Right now she had to get to work, so she notched the key back in the ignition the way Heath had showed her and tried again. Same result, with an annoying little ping thrown in to test her rapidly fleeting patience.

Someone tapped on the window, and she all but shot through the roof in alarm. When she saw it was Heath, she rested one hand over her racing heart and cranked the window down with the other. “You scared me half to death.”

“Sorry about that, but I was driving by when I heard the engine straining. What’s up?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with this thing. It started just fine all day yesterday. Then this morning—” She blew a raspberry, which wasn’t very ladylike but expressed her feelings perfectly.

He laughed, and she trailed after him, watching him lever open the hood and peer inside. After about five seconds, he muttered, “Don’t look now, but your grandmother’s eyeballing us. Think she knows enough about cars to manage some basic sabotage? Maybe hoping I’d stop and help a damsel in distress?”

Tess groaned. “Definitely. That would explain the hushed conversation she had with Chelsea last night. We already knew she and the baby were okay, so I couldn’t figure out what else they’d be whispering about. When I asked Gram about it later, she pulled the innocent act on me. ‘I have no idea what you’re referring to, dear,’” Tess mimicked her huffy response. “She had me convinced I was overtired and my imagination was playing tricks on me. She even sent me up to my room to get a good night’s sleep, like I was seven years old or something.”

“That tracks with what Chelsea said to me yesterday at the mill,” Heath’s voice rumbled from under the rusty hood. “Apparently, she thinks we’d make a great pair.”

“Of what?”

“Good one,” he said, letting out another laugh.

“They’re loony, both of them. Only crazy people would even think of putting us together, much less conspiring to make it happen. We’re like night and day.”

“No argument here.” Extracting himself from the engine compartment, he took a brightly colored handkerchief from the back pocket of his jeans and wiped his hands before dropping the hood. “I think you’re set now. Why don’t you get in and give it a whirl?”

She did, and the truck started right up. Of course it did, she thought, glancing at the house. She couldn’t see anyone, but she was confident Gram was still watching them to gauge the results of her trickery. “It’s kind of sweet, really. Don’t you think?”

“Sweet and sneaky,” he said with a good-natured look. “Southern women can be that way, and I guess the Barretts are no exception. How ’bout you?”

“Not me. If I like you, I’ll tell you straight to your face.”

“And if you don’t?” he asked with a grin.

“I’ll tell you that, too.” Pausing, she let out a sigh. “It got me in no end of trouble with my ex’s family. All his sisters-in-law are the polite, proper type. When we got serious about each other, I tried everything I could think of to be more like them. I thought I did a pretty good job of fitting in, but it turned out I was wrong.”

“Why would you even bother?” he demanded with a disapproving scowl.

His question sliced through her with a precision that made her hackles rise in self-defense. She told herself it had nothing to do with the fact that she’d asked herself the exact same thing at least a hundred times. “I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

“It’s not,” he admitted in a gentler tone. “But I hate to see anyone close off who they are just to try and fit in. God made us who we are for a reason, and it’s up to us to figure out a way to work with what He gave us.”

Tess was stunned by the little sermon. The easygoing mechanic didn’t strike her as the preachy type. To be honest, she couldn’t help feeling a little jealous of his certainty. Knowing there was a purpose to your life must be comforting when things got tough.

“You really believe that?” she asked. When he nodded, she frowned. “I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“Most folks don’t, until something goes wrong. Then they start looking around and realize if they’d just had a little more faith, things would’ve ended up better for them.”

Was that why things had gone so disastrously for her up to now? she wondered. Because she was meant to be somewhere else, or with someone else?

Or both?

Bewildered by questions she couldn’t begin to answer, she shook off her brooding and forced a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. Meantime, thanks so much for your help with the truck. I’m sure the crew’s already at the mill, and I’d hate to be late for work two days in a row.”

“No problem.” Angling his head toward the pickup, he gave her a sly look. “I got a feeling it’ll start right up for you this afternoon.”

“Unless Gram has an accomplice at the mill. You know she takes full credit for finally getting Paul, Jason and Scott married off, right?”

“Not Scott,” Heath protested. “We’ve been friends forever, and he’s as bullheaded as they come. When he got home from prison and started working on the old homestead, he was doing the hermit thing till he met Jenna. She turned his head all on her own.”

“I’m not denying she’s fabulous, but Aunt Diane told me Jenna had a little help from Gram.” She waved her fingers in a mystical gesture. “Chelsea and Amy did, too, and I don’t hear the boys complaining about it.”

“True enough,” he admitted with a grin. “Gotta admit the three of ’em did all right for a bunch of clueless hounds.”

“Those shenanigans won’t work with me, though. I’m onto her game, and much as I appreciate the effort, I won’t be playing along.”

“I don’t know,” he drawled, mischief twinkling in his eyes. “It might be fun.”

His not-so-subtle suggestion made her laugh, and she realized she’d done that more in the past twenty-four hours than she had for months. Then again, she hadn’t had much to laugh about lately. “Not a chance, country boy. You’d start off pretending, and before you knew what happened, it would all be for real. Then where would you be?”

“In love with you.”

His entire demeanor had gone dead serious, and she searched those vivid blue eyes for a sign that he was yanking her chain. When she couldn’t find one, her heart lurched in sheer panic. “What?”

“Gotcha.” Chuckling, he winked at her. “You should see your face right now. It’s the color of a bleached sheet.”

“I—well—” Appalled to hear herself stammering like some brainless twit, she took a moment to get her pulse out of startled-hummingbird range. “Good one. You know I have to get you back now, right?”

“Wouldn’t be any fun if you didn’t.”

“When you least expect it...”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he retorted, rocking his head in a derisive motion. “That’s what they all say.”

As he sauntered away, she found herself speechless, mouth open like a beached fish while she hunted for a decent comeback. Since she couldn’t come up with anything suitably crushing, she shouted, “In your dreams, Weatherby!”

Without looking back, he held up his hand before climbing into what could only be described as a red mini–monster truck. Still rattled by their bizarre exchange, she took solace in the fact that she’d gotten the last word. Only because he’d let her, she realized while she put the sawmill truck in gear and headed in the opposite direction Heath had taken.

Still, considering the way her life had been going recently, she’d take any victory she could get.

* * *

Tess Barrett was really starting to bug him. He just didn’t know why.

Pounding out the bent sheet metal on the front fender of Olivia’s sedan, Heath let his mind wander to her headstrong granddaughter for a few minutes. Their spirited exchange that morning echoed in his mind, amusing him one second and aggravating him the next. Just like she did, he realized with a scowl.

He just didn’t know why.

Realizing his thoughts had begun to repeat themselves, he did his best to put them aside and focus on his work. It was tough to do when all he could think about was how the flowing pink blouse Tess was wearing today set off her eyes, not to mention the fact that she smelled like magnolias on a warm summer evening.

The iron mallet he was using slipped off the fender and nailed his thumb hard enough to jerk him back to reality. Shaking his throbbing hand, he set down the hammer and took a swig of cold water before holding the bottle against the bruise that was already forming beneath his skin.

“Man needs to pay attention when he’s swinging one o’ those things.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Heath found his boss, Fred Morgan, watching him with a bemused look on his craggy face. He was the one who’d taken Heath under his wing as a teenager, showing him how to turn his natural-born love of all things mechanical into a job he could do anywhere. Not to mention, he’d made a spot for Heath when he returned from Alaska, no questions asked.

Chuckling at his own clumsiness, Heath got to his feet and held up his hand. “Nothing’s broken, so I’ll live.”

“Good to hear.”

“Did you need something?”

“Just making sure you’re all here,” Fred replied in his usual forthright way. “You seemed a little distracted when you came in this morning.”

“I’m fine.”

“Tess Barrett could distract a dead man out of his own grave,” the older man continued with a knowing look.