Dandelions for Dinner (A Farm Fresh Romance Book 4) Page 3

  The rookie driver carefully got the semi turned around, out the driveway, and headed toward Coeur d’Alene.

  “We’re going to go buy some lunch,” Curtis said. “Are you coming, or do you want me to grab something for you?”

  Brent took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll take a ham on rye, please. The keys are in the ignition.”

  Allison stared in his direction.

  “And don’t take too long about it, bud. We’ve got to get rolling here.”

  Curtis slapped his back. “You got it.” He saluted Allison and headed for the truck, leaving Brent to his fate.

  Working this site was going to improve his prayer life abundantly, at least if single sentences tossed heavenward counted. Prayers like, “Please, Lord, help me,” and “I could use some patience, God,” and “Jesus, give me the right words. Calming words.” Definitely prayers.

  He walked toward the waiting group, just as Allison crouched down to the toddler’s eye level. The little girl dodged in and out of Allison’s arms, chortling with glee, then ran a few circles around her.

  Maybe if he kept that image in his mind, it would help. See? She liked kids, and this one seemed to like her back. She couldn’t be that horrible.

  “Hi, I’m Brent Callahan from Timber Framing Plus.” He held out his hand to the woman tucked under Noel’s arm.

  “My wife, Claire,” Noel replied. “And Jo Nemesek with her daughter, Maddie-the-Tornado.”

  Brent shook both women’s hands then glanced again at the child. Tornado seemed about right. Giggling, she ran circles around Allison then collapsed in a heap. Allison tickled her, and the child squealed.

  Someday maybe he’d have kids. Unlikely, though. What good Christian woman would want to be saddled with the likes of him? The only plan he’d come up with so far was not to get close enough to someone that they’d want to know his past, because lying wasn’t a better option than the truth.

  Allison stood, dusting her hands together.

  Subtle hint to get back to work? Too bad for her.

  “That went better than I feared.” Brent met Allison’s gaze. “I’ll notify Patrick which beams he’ll need to replace and send with the next load. The good news is that none of them are essential to the first few days’ work.”

  “Excellent.” Noel grabbed the tornado and sent her end-over-end to his shoulder, facing backward. “It will be interesting watching this structure go up. I’ve worked in the bush a lot of years, but never at the harvesting end. Good-looking timbers you’ve got there.”

  “Patrick works hard with his sources.”

  Allison stepped closer. “So how much is this going to slow things down?”

  “In the long run? Not at all.” Brent met her gaze. “In the short run, a day or two. The new timbers will be rough cut. We’ll need to plane them on site and fit the joinery.”

  “But—” She bit her lip.

  “We’re doing the best we can, ma’am.” He couldn’t help grinning as she bristled.

  Noel slid the child to the ground. “That’s all we can ask. Hey, man, soup’s on. Want to come on in and have a bite to eat?”

  Allison’s face soured.

  Brent couldn’t decide if he wanted to spite her or see if she were actually capable of smiling. Maybe neither. “The guys are getting me a sandwich from the deli.”

  “Oh, do come in.” Claire put her hand on his arm. “Sit down out of the wind for a few minutes, and get something hot in you.”

  “Uh…” He glanced at Allison. “I need to give Patrick a call.”

  She smirked.

  “I guess I can do that from inside. Thanks, I’ll take you up on your offer.”

  They trooped up the driveway toward the large house. Pretty soon it wouldn’t be the biggest building on the farm. He took a closer look. Wait a minute. “Is this timber frame?”

  The toddler’s mother, Jo, spoke for the first time. “Sort of, but the wood is hidden between the straw bales. We had to use post-and-beam to carry the load of the roof over that distance.”

  A low whistle escaped between Brent’s teeth. “I haven’t seen straw bale up close. Looks good. Who was the contractor?”

  Claire grinned. “Jo, Sierra, and I handled the general contractor duties and a lot of the hands-on.”

  Brent stopped in his tracks. “No way.” He glanced at Noel.

  The other guy raised both hands, palms out. “It was before my time. These gals really are the bomb.”

  He noticed Noel hadn’t mentioned Allison. Was she a newer addition, too? He glanced her way.

  She had both arms wrapped around herself, as though that could keep the wind from cutting through her sweatshirt. A little personal insulation would go a long way.

  They traipsed up the steps to the wide deck flanking the house, and Noel opened the door with a bow. “After you.”

  Brent followed Allison in, his gaze going to the lofty beamed ceiling above and the massive rock thermal wall straight ahead. A whistle slipped out.

  A rich beefy aroma filled the air, and his stomach grumbled. It’d been a long time since that coffee and Danish he’d called breakfast.

  Allison leaned close. “Don’t forget to call Patrick.” Then she stalked away into the kitchen to wash her hands at the sink.

  This was going to be a very long few months.

  Chapter 4

  Fickle, fickle March blustered out with slushy snow showers. April strutted in just as emotionally.

  Allison paced at the windows in the great room. Over the past two weeks, the skeleton of the school building had gone up. The thing looked massive, even with the forested hillside visible between the posts.

  Brent had turned his crew to erecting the frame for her house. She couldn’t see it from the great room, and she didn’t feel comfortable roaming the bedroom wing of the big house and staring out those windows. Besides, even then, it was barely visible through the naked trees.

  She’d appreciate that privacy once she was moved in. Now it drove her crazy. After two weeks of butting heads with Brent Callahan, she’d decided he worked better if she wasn’t staring at him, so she couldn’t just take up residence in the tree house in the nearby golden willow and watch her house go up.

  The guy was obstinate bordering on rude.

  Sierra came in the back door, stamping slush off her boots. Her eyes lit up when she saw Allison. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you.”

  Allison smiled. If she’d done something wrong, Sierra wouldn’t look so pleased. “What’s up?”

  “It’s supposed to clear up tomorrow. Want to take a trip to Coeur d’Alene and do some shopping? Or even Wynnton…”

  “It’s clearing up? Finally. I can get to work—”

  “Relax a little, girl! I don’t think I’ve seen you curl up with a good book or even play solitaire on your laptop since you got here. A little shopping therapy will be good for us.”

  She’d managed to avoid Sunday evening game nights so far. Relaxing hadn’t been dealt into her hand of cards when she was born. Her mind scrambled for an excuse Sierra would accept for avoiding this bonding moment. “I thought you guys limited use of your vehicles. All that fuel being sucked into the atmosphere.”

  Sierra shrugged and glanced toward the kitchen. She lowered her voice. “Sometimes I just need to get off the farm, you know?”

  Allison raised her eyebrows. Even Sierra found their lifestyle a little stifling? “I guess I could take a day off. I feel like a caged tiger.”

  Sierra grinned. “And you look like one half the time, too. Pacing and watching.”

  “Not trying to make anyone uncomfortable. It’s just how I’m wired, to keep moving. I really hate depending on someone else’s timeline.”

  “You’re not in the city anymore. We have time to smell the roses. If they ever bloom this year, that is.”

  Allison managed a laugh. “Once spring arrives, it will come in full force. I’m sure the roses will be blooming by your wedding.�
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  “I hope so. Chelsea is determined I have roses, and I’m determined to have local flowers.”

  “Your sister is efficient.” Allison sobered. “I don’t know what I’d have done without her last summer after my parents’ plane crash. I didn’t even know my father had named me executor, let alone how to plan a funeral or deal with the estate.” She’d turned to Chelsea Riehl, an event planner she’d first met in college for help with the funeral. Later, Chelsea had introduced her to Sierra, Jo, and Claire — and changed her life forever.

  Sierra rested her hand on Allison’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I know I’ve said that before, but it’s still true. I can’t imagine doing life without my parents, even though they live so far away.”

  “Your parents are pretty cool.” They might even be one of the few couples that didn’t cheat on each other. Allison had been in their Portland home several times with Chelsea and found their apparent dedication to each other enlightening.

  “Yeah. Anyway, help me escape for a day? I’m sure I can think of something I need to source for the wedding, if you’re up for it.”

  If she were going to live here for the next fifty years, she needed to make friends with these women. One at a time sounded better than by the threesome. She stepped back to drop contact with Sierra’s hand. “Hey, it’s my nephew’s birthday in a month or so. Maybe I can find a gift for him.”

  “You have a nephew? I don’t think I knew that.”

  Allison’s jaw clenched. “He’s going to be four. I hardly ever get to see him.”

  “Aw. Where do they live?”

  “Last I heard, my sister was in Tucson. She must’ve burned through most of what she inherited from our parents already.”

  Sympathy poured from Sierra’s eyes. “Burned through?”

  Allison lifted a shoulder and let it drop, resigned. “She’s a drug addict who hops in and out of relationships. I don’t know how she’s managed to keep custody of Finnley.”

  “Oh, no. I’m so sorry to hear that. How often do you see them?”

  “I ran into her in the mall a few weeks before moving here. That’s when she told me she was going to Arizona with her latest boyfriend. I hadn’t seen her since the funeral.”

  “Poor little guy.”

  Allison blinked. “Yeah. I wish I could do something.”

  “Well, we’ll pray for him and for your sister, too. What’s her name?”

  “Lori.” Allison hesitated. “Do you ever wonder if a person is beyond God’s help?”

  “Remember Saul of Tarsus? The guy went around imprisoning and killing Christians. God got a hold of his life, and he became the most renowned preacher in all of history.”

  “Yeah, but that’s in the Bible. Ages ago. I mean, I believe God can change people. Don’t get me wrong. But there isn’t a whole lot of evidence He does it these days.”

  Sierra regarded her thoughtfully. “It’s not usually as dramatic as a light from heaven and a guy getting blinded in the middle of the road, no. But God has His ways of meeting people.”

  “Do you really think so?” Oh, no. She could feel tears stinging the backs of her eyes. Show no weakness.

  “I know so. Ask Noel how he met Jesus one of these days. He’s certainly a changed man.”

  “Noel? Really? He seems like such a nice guy.” As far as men went.

  “He is. He was before, too, but he was doing his best to avoid thinking about God. That didn’t stop God from thinking about him, though.” Sierra reached for Allison again.

  Again she shifted just out of reach. This was such a touchy-feely group. “I guess. I mean, I believe in God. I know what He’s done in my life.”

  “What’s that?” Sierra dropped into the nearest deep chair. “Tell me.”

  “He made me strong.” Allison thought back over the affairs her parents flaunted in each other’s faces, leaving them little concern for their daughters. And when Dad accused Mom that Lori wasn’t even his child, and when she screamed back that he was right, and Lori disappeared… yes, she’d needed to be strong.

  Being strong wasn’t enough, it turned out. But it was still better than being weak.

  “Allison?”

  “I’m sorry. The memories are just too painful.” Allison paced over to the window and peered out. She still couldn’t see her house from here, but she could see a white Timber Framing Plus pickup truck come from the building site, pass the house, and jounce down the driveway. No way was it five o’clock yet.

  Sierra strolled up beside her and they watched the truck disappear together.

  “Yeah, I’ll go to Coeur d’Alene with you. Or, better yet, we can take my car, if you like.” Her hybrid Camry had to be better on fuel than the old diesel hatchback Sierra drove. Plus it had the comforts of home. Actually, it had more comforts than home did.

  “You sure? That’d be great! I’ll help you find a gift for Finnley. What kinds of things does he like?”

  Allison stared at Sierra blankly. “I have no idea.” Pain sliced through her. Yes, she hurt for Lori, but her sister had made her own decisions, at least at first. But what had Finnley done to deserve being born to a druggie?

  That had been one of the times when Lori moved back home for a while and tried to kick the addictions. It was a miracle the kid didn’t have fetal alcohol syndrome, or worse.

  Maybe there was a God. Maybe He did care about Finnley.

  “We’re all going to pray for your nephew.” This time Sierra got close enough to give Allison a side hug.

  They both survived. Who knew that could happen?

  “We’re going to pray that God gives them a fresh start. He can do it, you know. Just watch.”

  * * *

  It should’ve made him less twitchy when Allison wasn’t watching his every move. For the past week, she’d only shown up two or three times a day instead of constantly raking or weeding or just standing nearby. But he never knew when she’d suddenly be there, practically at his elbow, with a question. More than once he’d nearly dropped a tool in surprise.

  He’d handed over a hard hat and told her she wasn’t allowed anywhere near the job site without it. She’d looked at it with distaste, but hey, rules were rules, and she was going to abide by this one or he’d toss her over his shoulder and carry her off himself. She couldn’t weigh that much. Evidently she’d believed him and wore the protection.

  Today he hadn’t seen her at all. Not that he was looking, of course. But she hadn’t nagged him once.

  “Whew.” Curtis took off his hard hat and wiped back his hair as he glanced around. “Peaceful in these here parts when she ain’t here.” He said the word as though Allison were poison.

  “A little respect. She’s our client.”

  “Oh, come on. I’ve seen you clench your teeth when she’s around. She’d drive a man to drink, she would.”

  The thought had crossed Brent’s mind a time or two, as well. He shrugged. “Don’t let her get under your skin. Seriously, no woman should have that kind of power over you.”

  Curtis looked at him skeptically. “So that’s your great wisdom from the lofty age of — what are you, anyway?”

  “Twenty-eight.” Brent knew he had enough years on Curtis that his age didn’t matter. “And yep, that’s my wisdom. You’re doomed if you let a woman wrap you around her finger.”

  Curtis clapped his hand on Brent’s back. “Is that the voice of experience?”

  “It is.” What kind of experience wasn’t any of his crew’s business. “Our job here is to get these two buildings up. This here house, and—” he pointed toward the front of the property “—the school building. Ms. Hart is our client and nothing more. She has a right to see progress.”

  “Every five minutes?”

  Brent lifted a shoulder. “I guess. It’s her time she’s wasting.”

  “And yours.”

  “Sometimes. But Patrick taught me to keep a client in the know, at whatever level he or she needs. Every job is different.” He sounded
so pious he could almost hate himself, yet it was still true. In the end, Allison Hart was paying his wages. He should be thankful she’d finally started to trust him enough to let him work unsupervised.

  Still, it was odd she hadn’t come by a single time all day. He doubted it was because she wasn’t curious. He glanced down the path toward the straw bale house and saw a glimpse of bright yellow.

  Curtis followed his gaze and nudged him. “Get to work, dude,” he stage-whispered. “Here she comes.”

  Brent poked his jaw toward the structure. “You get to work. I’m allowed to stand here and supervise.”

  Shaking his head, Curtis gave another pull on his water bottle and sauntered back into the heart of the place.

  “Allison!” Brent feigned surprise as she came to a stop beside him. “I wondered where you’d gotten to today.”

  Her head swiftly tilted upward, and a surprised look crossed her face. She shifted a step farther from him. “I’ve been busy.”

  He pointed a hammer at the structure. “We have, too.”

  “So I see.”

  “Come on in closer if you like. I see you’ve got your safety equipment on.”

  She rolled her eyes but followed him.

  Brent stopped in the very center and tipped his head back. “See? There’s your kingpin, holding the entire roof solidly in place.”

  She stared up for a long moment.

  “No response? Come on, you have to admit it looks pretty awesome.”

  “Yeah. It is cool. Thanks.”

  Wait. Was that moisture in the corner of her eyes? The hard girl in the hard hat wouldn’t be feeling any emotion, would she? “You okay?”

  She glanced at him through narrowed eyes. “Yeah, fine, why?”

  Brent grinned. “It’s all right to be happy, you know. This is going to be your home. I think you chose a great design. You’ll love it.”

  Allison shook her head, ever so slightly. “Okay, I’m excited. I really am. Is that better?” Her pencil-thin eyebrows rose as she challenged him.