That McCloud Woman (2 page)

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Authors: Peggy Moreland

BOOK: That McCloud Woman
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A
sigh moved through him and he pushed back the memories before they could fully
form. He was tired of running, but he wasn't ready to go back to Houston. Not yet. Maybe never.

Standing,
he fished a couple of dollars out of his pocket and tossed them on the table,
then scraped his cap from the seat and his ticket from the scarred Formica tabletop
where Maudie had left it earlier. Crossing to the register, he dropped the
ticket on the counter and worked his wallet from his back pocket.

Maudie
aimed one last frown of disapproval in Alayna's direction, then stood and
shifted to the register, pasting a smile on her face for Jack's benefit.
"Was everythin' all right?" she asked as she punched the total into
the register and took the ten-dollar bill he offered her.

"Fine,
thank you," Jack murmured politely as he accepted his change. "Much
obliged." Stuffing his wallet back into his pocket, he glanced one last
time in Alayna's direction, then turned and left the diner.

Alayna
let the door to the diner close behind her, then stopped, drawing in a deep
breath. Well, she'd expected an "I told you so" from Maudie, and
she'd certainly gotten it. Not that it changed anything. She was still out
several thousand dollars and left with a half-finished remodeling job.

Things could be
worse,
she told herself, looking for the bright side of the situation as she started
down the steps. Frank could have taken her money and skipped out on her before
he'd made the house livable again. She could at least be thankful for that.
After all, she was able to sleep and bathe in her own house, which was, in her
opinion, a definite step in the right direction. She could even cook her own
meals and no longer needed to take advantage of her cousins' hospitality.
Though she had enjoyed sharing her meals with Mandy, Sam and Merideth in their
respective homes, and getting to know their families, the time saved in
traveling to and fro gave her the opportunity to tackle other projects. She
supposed she had
that
to be thankful for, as well.

And
there were the—

"Excuse
me, ma'am."

Alayna
jumped, sucking in a startled breath as a man stepped from the shadow of the
diner, blocking her path.

"I'm
sorry," he mumbled, whipping off his cap and dipping his chin to his chest
in apology. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Alayna
pressed a hand over her heart to still its frantic beating. "You didn't
frighten me."

He
glanced up, one thick brow arched high over a doubtful eye as he nodded toward
the hand she still clutched at her chest. "Could have fooled me."

Alayna
looked down at her hand, unaware that she had even raised it, then dropped it
to her side in embarrassment. She laughed self-consciously as she lifted her
gaze to the man's again. She relaxed a little when she found nothing
threatening in his eyes or in his stance. "Well, maybe just a
little," she admitted. She cocked her head, eyeing him curiously.
"You were in the diner earlier, weren't you?"

He
took his cap in both hands, curling and uncurling its bill. "Yea, ma'am, I
was. And I couldn't help overhearing your conversation."

Alayna
wrinkled her nose. "You mean Maudie's lecture."

He
shrugged. "Sounded as if she had your best interest at heart."

She
rolled her eyes, then sighed. "Yes, I suppose, though I feel rather
foolish. Especially since Maudie warned me about Frank." She angled her
head, frowning just a little. "I don't believe I've seen you around
before. Do you live in Driftwood?"

"Oh,
no, ma'am," he answered with a quick shake of his head. "I'm not from
around here."

"I
didn't think so." She laughed. "In a town the size of Driftwood,
everyone pretty much knows everyone else—and their business," she added
sagely.

Jack
frowned upon hearing her echo his own sentiments about the town, but he was at
a loss as how to approach her with the idea that had come upon him earlier as
he'd stared out the window at the quiet street. He dropped his hands to his
sides and tapped his cap nervously against his thigh.

Alayna
continued to peer at him. "Is there something I can do for you?" she
asked helpfully.

"Well,
yes, ma'am, there is," he began uncertainly. "I couldn't help
overhearing your conversation, and you mentioning that you were going to
advertise for someone to complete your remodeling job. I'd like to apply for
the job, if you'll allow me, and save you the trouble of posting an ad."

Alayna's
eyes sharpened in interest. "Oh? Are you a carpenter?"

"Yes,
ma'am. I've worked in carpentry most of my life. My dad was a carpenter, and he
taught me and my brother the trade. I can handle pretty much any job that pops
up in a redo. Electrical. Plumbing. Painting. You name it." He snorted
what might pass as a laugh. "I guess you could call me a
jack-of-all-trades."

Intrigued,
Alayna studied him. He was close to her age, maybe a bit older, with strong
features, and broad shoulders. Definitely fit enough for the work that would be
required of him. She liked to think she was an excellent judge of character and
could tell a lot about a person by simply looking into their eyes. That he
could meet her gaze squarely attested to his honesty in Alayna's estimation.

Yet,
there was something in his eyes—or rather lacking in them—that concerned her.
There was a sadness, an almost emptiness to the brown depths. Not that that
would affect her decision to hire him. It simply intrigued her. There was a
story there, a loss or disappointment of some kind that had left him disillusioned
and withdrawn. She wondered if he'd share it with her, and wondered further if
she could help him deal with it.

She
gave herself a firm shake, forcing her mind to the situation at hand and her
heart from the swell of sympathy she felt building.

She
knew Maudie would throw a screaming fit if she discovered that Alayna was
considering hiring a complete stranger right off the street, especially after
the fiasco with Frank. But Alayna was desperate. She had to find someone to
finish the job Frank had started.

"I
pay by the hour, not the job," she said, then named a figure, watching his
reaction.

He
lifted a shoulder. "That's fine by me."

"And
I handle the purchase of supplies."

"Whatever
suits you."

"You
said you weren't from around here."

"No,
ma'am, I'm not."

"Then,
where would you live?"

He
pursed his lips thoughtfully, then shrugged. "I don't know. But I'm sure I
could find a place."

She
glanced away, looking down the street and away from him. "There's a small
cabin on my property," she said thoughtfully. "I lived there until
Frank made the house habitable."

Since
she'd offered the information as a statement and not an invitation, Jack wasn't
sure what kind of response she expected from him, so he remained silent.

"I
suppose you could stay there," she said, turning her gaze back to him.
"It isn't much, but it offers the essentials."

"I'm
used to making do."

"Are
you a man of your word?"

His
chest swelled as if in asking the question she'd insulted him. "My word's
as good as any legal contract you could have drawn."

"And
I have your word that you'll see this remodeling job through to its end?"

He
gave his chin a tight jerk of assent. "You have my word. I'll see the job
done."

"When
can you start?"

"When
do you want me?"

She
arched a brow, a smile teasing one corner of her mouth. "What are your
plans for this afternoon?"

Jack
shrugged. "Nothing in particular."

She
quickly dug pen and paper from her purse, then turned the bag over, bracing it
against her stomach while she used its side for a writing surface. "I have
a few more errands to run," she told him as she jotted down directions to
her house, "but I should be home by three."

She
held out the slip of paper and Jack took it, studying her neat handwriting.
When he glanced up, he saw that her hand was extended toward him. Along with it
she offered him a smile. "I'm Alayna McCloud."

Up
close, he found her eyes an even deeper blue than he'd thought before, and he
quickly decided that a man could probably drown in their depths if he cared to
look long and deeply enough. Thankfully Jack didn't. He took her hand, if a bit
reluctantly, and shook it. "Jack Cordell."

Her
smile broadened, dimples winking at him from her cheeks. She added a squeeze to
the shake. "I'm pleased to meet you, Jack."

The
warmth of her hand slowly worked its way up his arm while the added pressure in
her grip seemed to draw his insides into a knot. Frowning, he uncurled his
fingers from around hers and dropped his hand to his side, slowly flexing his
fingers. "Same goes," he murmured, then abruptly turned away.

Jack
sat on the porch steps, waiting … and slowly melting. He shoved his cap back on
his head and used his shirtsleeve to mop the sweat from his brow. She'd said
three, and it was already almost half past.

On
a sigh, he stretched out his legs and tucked his pressed hands between his
thighs, hunching his shoulders forward. Had he been too hasty in taking on this
job? he asked himself. Was it the job itself that had appealed to him, the
chance to work with his hands again? Or had it been the woman? It had been a
long time since a woman had caught his attention enough to make him look twice.
Even longer since he'd worked with his hands.

Maybe
it was a mixture of the two, he decided, squinting his eyes thoughtfully as he
stared out at the drive that led to the house. He gave his shoulder a lift,
then shook his head. Didn't matter, he told himself. Either way, he had a job
to do, a place to stay for a while. And a pretty woman to look at. Not a bad
deal all the way around, no matter which way he looked at it.

While
he was pondering all this, a cat slipped from beneath the porch steps and wound
its way around his feet. Jack scowled at the scraggly-looking cat and nudged it
away with the toe of his boot. At the sound of an engine, he glanced up, standing
when he saw a minivan coming up the long drive. It stopped at an angle in front
of the picket fence that surrounded the house, and Alayna slipped from behind
the wheel and to the ground. She quickly ducked back inside, stretching to grab
a sack of groceries from the passenger seat. With the movement, the hem of her
dress rose, exposing a tanned calf, then the tender flesh behind her knee. At
the sight, Jack felt his pulse kick and heat crawl up his neck.

"Hi!"
she called brightly as she turned and headed toward him. "Sorry I'm
late."

Jack
frowned, tugging the bill of his cap low over his forehead as if to hide the
truth of where his eyes had strayed. "No problem."

She
stooped to give the cat that greeted her a loving pat. "I see you met
Captain Jinx."

Jack's
frown deepened as he watched the flea-bitten, stump-tailed cat arch beneath her
hand, purring its contentment. "Yeah."

She
straightened, lifting her gaze to his, a teasing smile curving her lips when
she saw the look of disgust on his face. "You don't like cats?"

He
lifted a shoulder. "They're okay."

She
laughed softly as she shifted the sack of groceries to her hip, then looked
back down at the cat. "He's not really mine. He just appeared one day and
stayed."

"Did
you feed him?"

Alayna
glanced up, her forehead wrinkling at the unexpected question. "Well, yes.
As a matter of fact, I did. Why do you ask?"

He
lifted a shoulder again. "That would be enough to convince him to
stay."

Alayna
stared at Jack a moment, caught once again by the sadness in his eyes, the
emptiness there, wondering what had robbed them of their life, their sparkle.
She wondered, too, if she fed Jack, as she had the cat, would he stay long
enough to finish her remodeling job?

At
the outrageousness of the thought, she shifted the sack of groceries in her
arms. "What would you like to see first? The cabin where you'll be
staying, or the house?"

Jack
glanced over his shoulder toward the house. He didn't care one way or the other
about his own accommodations. But the house and its distinct architecture had
intrigued him from the moment he'd first caught sight of it. "The house,
if you don't mind."

"The
house, it is." Alayna led the way, with Jack following. When they reached
the kitchen door, she juggled sack and purse, and he quickly stretched an arm
in front of her, caught the screen door handle and pulled it open. "Thank
you," she said, offering him a grateful smile as she passed by him.

Feeling
the warmth of her smile and catching a whiff of the flowery scent that trailed
her, Jack stared after her a second, watching the subtle movement of her hips
beneath the sacklike dress, and the rhythmic sway of her hair across her
shoulders and back. He wondered what the texture of her hair would feel like
between his fingers, what she'd taste like when aroused. When he realized where
his thoughts were taking him, he frowned and quickly stepped inside, letting
the door close quietly behind him.

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