Restoration (3 page)

Chapter 3

Two weeks had passed since they’d arrived. Two weeks since Grace had almost cracked up thinking she’d seen her John in a grocery store. She hadn’t seen him since then. She couldn’t honestly say she wasn’t looking for him, either. She’d caught herself craning her neck when tall men passed her on the street, looking carefully down the aisles at the grocery, and listening for a soft masculine voice which was so like John’s, save the British accent.

Andrew Tensley had disappeared from this small town of three thousand people. It seemed unlikely he was hiding from her, but the irrational part of her brain couldn’t help jumping to the conclusion. As she and Valerie sat at the little café—which had become their lunchtime favorite—she forced herself to stop staring out the window at the grocery store across the street.

You only saw him for two minutes—three tops. Why would he care enough to hide from you? Just let it go. You were exhausted and emotionally vulnerable.

“You’ve got to calm down,” Valerie said over her coffee. “You’re so on-edge.”

“I’m fine, Val.”

Valerie shook her head. “No. Your jaw is clenched so hard I’m surprised your teeth aren’t cracking.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand it. Why can’t I escape him?”

“Him? John?”

“Yes. I moved across the globe to get away from reminders of him.” She dropped her head onto her palms and massaged her temples.

“John is dead. You don’t need to get away from him. You need to move on.” Valerie closed her laptop and placed a gentle hand on her arm. “He’s not chasing you or haunting you. You simply need to let go.”

“I used to be able to bury myself in work and keep him out of my head. I should be able to do that here, where there’s nothing to remind me of him.”

Valerie frowned as she looked past her and out the window. Her eyes were fixed on the street outside. “Oh, my God.”

Grace turned to follow her gaze and there he was, standing on the sidewalk, chatting with David from the grocery. Proof she wasn’t a complete basket case.

“Grace?” Valerie’s voice was filled with concern. “Grace, that’s him. It’s John.”

“No.” Her voice was firm. “That’s Andrew Tensley.”

Grace knew she was dreaming, but she didn’t care.

John was sitting on the couch in his living room, reading one of his favorite books. She slowly snaked her arm down his chest from behind and he inhaled sharply in surprise. He leaned his head back onto her and looked up with his deep brown eyes, eyebrows raised in question. She smiled and kissed his lips gently once, twice, and tried to pull away. He spun around and lifted her over the couch and onto his lap. He deepened the kiss and wrapped the fingers of one hand in her hair, while the other connected with her hand. After he pulled away, he slowly lifted her left hand and twisted the diamond solitaire he’d just slipped onto her ring finger.

“Will you?” he whispered, lips pressed lightly to her hand.

She woke with tears streaming down her face. Looking at her naked ring finger, she felt a pang in her heart. God, she could still smell him, taste him. He lingered like a leftover phantom from her dream.

I’m supposed to change my life, not be haunted by my past.

She stood and went to her jewelry roll, which sat lonely and tucked away in a bag on her dresser. There, stowed in its dusty velvet box, was the beautiful engagement ring John had never had the chance to give her.

A week after he died, she’d received a message from the local jeweler telling her the ring John had ordered was ready to be picked up. It took her a month just to get up the nerve to open the box. She still hadn’t tried it on.

As she fingered the simple, yet elegant ring, she realized this should have been her future. She was sure Marianne must have known John was planning to propose and wondered why she hadn’t ever talked about it. She almost called his mother right there on the spot, but a glance at the clock told her five o’clock in the morning in the UK was still the middle of the night in Virginia. Instead, she resolved to package up the beautiful ring and ship it off to Marianne. It wasn’t doing her any good, collecting dust in her jewelry roll.

Grace tried to lull herself back to sleep, but was unsuccessful. She eventually gave up and got ready to go for her morning run. The sun was peeking over the horizon as she tied her shoes. She was finally starting to feel adjusted, normal, and part of the community. People were friendly, coming by to say hello when they saw her at tea or while she was on a break from the site.

The restoration project was big news for the little town. Reporters from London were sniffing around, interested in the level of commitment Braley had to maintaining its historical status. She’d met with the owner of the manor house the previous day. As she’d hoped, the entire town needed restoration, not just the single building.

“Are you ready for me to send off an email to Bidwell about the project?” Valerie asked.

Grace jumped in surprise, her heart in her throat. “God, you scared the life out of me. What are you doing awake?”

Valerie shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d get a jumpstart on email. So, what do you think about the project?”

“The whole town is full of historical structures, many of which are crumbling. I’m pretty sure the town council is aggressively pushing to make it a destination for tourists who want the idyllic British village.” She chewed on her lip, debating on sharing her hopes aloud. “Depending on how the restoration of the manor house goes, I think we’ll be hired to supervise the entire transformation.”

“That’s exciting.” Valerie’s eyes twinkled. “And a little scary.”

Grace nodded. “That amount of responsibility is . . . huge. Especially when a whole town’s future depends on it.”

“So . . . what should the message be?” she asked, fingers poised above her keyboard.

“Tell him exactly that. There’s potential for a bigger project than what even
he
anticipated.”

“Understood. Have a nice run.”

Grace’s feet hit the pavement with a jolt and she remembered her frequent beachside runs with John. His hair in the sunlight glinted with gold strands, mixed with chestnut brown. She remembered the scattering of freckles along his nose and cheeks, so faint you would miss them if you weren’t looking hard. He wasn’t a classically handsome, chiseled-to-perfection man like his two brothers. He was unique, an asymmetrical and completely charming guy-next-door.

He used to grab her hand after their stretches and whisper
run
before taking off down the beach with her. His smile spreading wide across his face as the wind hit him. “It’s like flying,” he’d say, and when the wind was strong he’d let go of her hand and spread his arms out wide with his eyes closed.

Now, she couldn’t seem to get into a rhythm while running. There were too many new places to see, things to be cautious of, and people to say hello to. She wondered briefly if she should take the running path she’d used before. Thinking she could gain some focus on familiar terrain, she headed down a residential street on her way to the footpath.

Well-kept homes lined the street, their design suggesting they’d been built in the early nineteen-fifties. Manicured lawns and gardens illustrated a neighborhood of people with either time or money to burn. Cars sat in driveways and kitchen lights blazed in a select few homes. It was just now half-past five in the morning, after all. Most people would still be asleep this early on a Saturday.

The creak of a door opening drew her attention to the tall man who was stepping outside, clearly dressed for a run of his own. He put in his earbuds and set off ahead of her. Realization hit soon after, that this was the elusive Andrew Tensley. Without thinking about it, she tried to keep up with his long legs.

His pace was smooth and steady as she jogged about thirty feet behind him. It was a little faster than she was used to, but she needed to assure herself he only
resembled
John, not that he looked exactly like him. Her first impression hadn’t been the best and she wanted to clear her mind of any awkward comparisons for future conversations.

Her gaze wandered from her surroundings to his hair. She inspected it as well as possible, given they were both running in the early morning light. He had great hair. It was the same chestnut brown as John’s. Even from a distance, it looked soft and thick, and seemed to have a mind of its own, sticking up where it was long. That was different from John’s; he’d always worn his fairly short. Andrew’s build was lanky as well. He was tall, with strong shoulders and lean muscles, clearly formed from consistent running.

How are they so similar? John didn’t have any relatives living abroad. This can’t be a coincidence; that just doesn’t happen.

Her breaths came in labored gasps as she struggled to keep up with Andrew without him noticing her. She let her attention drift down the curve of his backside and the heat of a fierce blush rushed up her face when she realized she’d been caught. She lurched to a stop mere inches before colliding with him.

“Well, we meet again.” Andrew’s gaze met hers and a charming grin spread across his face.

“Yes, it would seem so.” She tore her gaze from his and looked down at her shoes, awkward and uncomfortable.

“You’re a runner, too, then?”

“Yep.” She peered back up at him, noticing his eyes were all-too-familiar.

“Have I done something to offend you? You seem very put off by me.” Andrew implored with a confused expression on his freckled face as he stood to his full height.

“No, nope. I just like to run alone. I’m not much for conversation. Need to keep my focus.”

His face fell slightly at her words. “Well, then, I’ll just be off. Nice to see you again, Miss . . .”

“Grace, Grace McConnell. It was nice to run into you, too.”

“Drew Tensley.” He offered his hand and she took it, a thrill running through her at his touch. “I look forward to our next
run-in
. That seems to be our pattern.”

She smiled and ran past him, heart racing and head spinning. Her mind was running a million miles a minute.

How can he look so much like John?
He was almost an identical copy as far as she could tell.
What are the chances of something like this? And why am I such a babbling idiot around him? I just like to run alone. What was that about?

As she ran home, her phone began to chirp.

Over the next month, Grace’s work commitments ran her life. She rarely left the cottage if it wasn’t work related, sending Valerie to run errands. Valerie accused her of being a hermit and avoiding seeing John’s
doppelgänger
, Drew Tensley. She couldn’t deny the truth in the statement, but wouldn’t give Valerie the pleasure of hearing those words leave her lips. What her friend didn’t know was that every morning while on her run, so was he. She caught a glimpse of him, waved
hello
, and sometimes even exchanged a few words. When she was running, she felt safe from having to hold a real conversation, but still got to see him and experience the thrill of excitement he elicited from her. In her zone, she could be pleasant and have an excuse for a quick getaway.

Each time she saw him, guilt washed over her, and she wondered if she was a glutton for punishment. The memory of John burned in her chest. She thought of his family and what they would say if they knew about Drew.

John’s two older brothers were firefighters like he’d been. They were close, all on the same crew at the same firehouse. Losing a fellow firefighter in the line of duty takes its toll on the house, but losing a brother had brought the Oliver boys to their knees. Shaking her head to free herself of the memories, she opened the door and walked out into the crisp morning air.

As the weeks passed, Valerie became increasingly involved with Mick from the construction crew. He’d been hired as the foreman to the restoration job and was exposing Valerie to the London club scene. Aside from working hours, Grace didn’t see her much. They crossed paths in the evenings after dinner most nights. Occasionally, they shared a bottle of wine while Valerie tried to get her to join the London nightlife.

“It’s just not my scene. I’m not big on clubbing. You know how crowds bother me.” This was her mantra.

Valerie would roll her eyes and wave her off. This morning, she’d invited her out for a trip to see the sights. When Grace declined yet again, Valerie finally snapped.

“Denying yourself any kind of fun is not honoring John’s memory, Grace. Stop hiding behind him.”

Grace had no words. Her shocked expression must have said it all.

Valerie’s face softened immediately and she turned to gather her coat. “I’m sorry.” She looked down at the floor. “I just . . . it’s hard to see you avoiding life. He’s been gone over a year. You’re not cheating on him, you know.”

Grace nodded and took a deep breath, working to control the anger threatening to boil over. “Do you think I don’t know that? Every day I wake up knowing he’s gone. Feeling the pain of losing him all over again. Go on, have a great time. Excuse me if my loss clouds your fun.” The sarcasm in her voice was hard to miss.

Valerie set her coat down. “Grace . . .”

“No. You know what? I need some time. Go and have fun. I’m going out for a walk.”

Grace shoved past her and snatched her keys from the counter. Her feet slipped easily into her unlaced running shoes and she was out the door before Valerie could say anything else.