For Your Sake (11 page)

              Now, as an adult, she finally stood in the room she fantasized about, the feeling of loss and confusion not as bad, but still stung.  Like most of the house, it was white walls with oak bead board molding and built-in bookshelves.  The floors were also a rich oak and hardly a scratch on them like most of the second floor, probably because the ninety year old lady who once lived here never made it up the stairs in her old age.  It was bare and void of any décor save for the white, lace curtains which covered the windows.  Those were left behind and she could tell by the feel and look of the fabric that it was antique.  Since they were quite clean, she left them up as they made the room less naked until she decided what to do.  Eva had several, viable ideas for this room – an office, a workout room, even a sitting room.

              And, of course, she had one idea which was about as much of a fantasy as this room was when she was a child – a nursery. But she chose this.  She chose to buy a business, break it off with William, buy a home and do it all on her own.  Her mother left, her best friend moved away and her father died.  Given the history of people leaving, it was safer this way.

              Leaving the windows and door open for the day, she headed back downstairs.  Seeing it was almost one, she took a fortifying slug of iced coffee, then checked the contents of the fridge.  She had fixings for a salad and a can of chick peas in the cabinet for protein.  First thing after picking up her car was to go do some grocery shopping.

              She ate quickly then ventured out to the backyard.  It was a good size with the back of her property separated from Mrs. Bachman’s with a picket fence.  A tiny wood shed kitty-cornered one side, flanked by strips of bare dirt for planting.  The other side hosted a full, lush evergreen which she wanted to take down and replace with multi-colored hydrangea bushes.  It was all surrounded by a deep, green lawn which was a product of the abundant rainfall from April to September.  And with fall right around the corner, days would be getting colder and the night’s even moreso.  All the more reason to tackle this next chore herself.

              A half-empty firewood ring stood on the cement walkway with larger chunks of wood strewn about the back.  Eva began to pile pieces which were small enough to carry onto the ring, leaving about ten larger chunks which needed to be chopped.  Inside the shed, she fought through the cobwebs and sorted through rakes, shovels, wheel barrow, unopened bags of mulch and old bottles of weed killer which were probably toxic by now until she found a rusty ax.  She lifted it by the yellow, rubber handle, not prepared for the weight of the implement.  This was going to be interesting.

              Determined, she clamped her left hand halfway up the bottom of the handle, her right hand right where it met the blade and trudged over to the wood, looking like a serial killer in the process.  Not having an old stump to act as a surface, she put a piece of wood on the grass, raised the ax behind her and prepared to swing down.

              “I don’t think so, darlin’.”

              The ax fell out of her hands at the voice behind her, which is where she found Ben standing at the top of her driveway.  “Are you crazy?”  Her heart was pounding and she most likely pulled a muscle in her hand, but she ignored both at the sight of this biker who had a penchant for sneaking up on her.  “You don’t come up on someone like that – especially when they’re swinging an ax.”

              He gave her a look as if he knew that, which was a little creepy.  “Better startle you than have you take your leg off.”

              He didn’t move from where he stood, much like last night while waiting for her to go back to her car and leave.  And he did it with a smug look on his face.  “How would I have done that?”

              As if it was an invitation to fully enter her backyard, he walked over and held his hand out.  “May I?”

              Did she really want to hand an ax over to a biker who wore a patch which read
Three Deadly Sins?

              “Eva?”

              Saved by Mrs. Bachman.  The nosy biddie probably needed smelling salts after seeing what just walked into her backyard.  As if the sight of Taz wasn’t enough.  The woman was using her side of the fence as a shield, her eyes on the very large man who now held a very large ax.  She gave her an assuring wave.  “Getting the wood chopped for the winter,” she told the old lady, hoping it would satisfy.  Unfortunately, she didn’t think Ben’s attire passed him off as a subcontractor.

              Backing away from the fence, Mrs. Bachman disappeared to the deck where she stayed put, no doubt to watch what went down.  Eva shook her head and looked back at Ben.  “Mrs. Bachman - neighborhood watch dog.”

              “So now I’m your hired hand?”

              “Don’t think you’ll pass off as that wearing that leather vest.”

              “Cut.”

              “What?”

              He held the placket of his leather out.  “It’s called a cut, darlin’.  Now, here.”  He went in search of the largest block of wood and stood it vertical.  “Reason chopping on the ground was a bad idea was if you missed, it would’ve swung right into your leg.  Since you don’t have a stump,” he then found a smaller piece to place on top of the base in the same vertical position,” then you use the biggest piece you can find to support.  And then,” he hoisted the ax as if it weighed no more than a feather and violently swung it down on the top piece, splitting it in two without disturbing the base, “you chop your wood on that.”

              Eva thought he did that too easy.  Way too easy.  Somewhere behind her Mrs. Bachman was probably in need of an oxygen tank. 

              “Here.”  He handed the ax back to her.  “You try.”

              As ambitious as she felt, as independent as she was, Eva had to call it as it was.  There was no way she could do this.  She’d hire someone.  Maybe some kid in the neighborhood she could slip a twenty to for an hour or so.  “I don’t think so.”

              “I think so.”

              “I’m not tall enough to get the leverage I need.”

              He leaned down, uncomfortably close to her face.  “Try.”  It was a whisper which ruffled the hair in her ponytail and sent a chill down her spine.  Not to mention this was the closest she got to see him and in clear, afternoon light.  He really was a good looking devil, not Taz-devil, but in more of a figurative term.  His beard and eyebrows were a bit darker than his hair, his eyes a warm brown – that amber color – straight nose and, she gazed further down, nice lips.  Those lips then curved into a smile which made her look up.  He knew she was checking him out. 

              “Fine.”  She caught herself and regrouped as he replaced a piece of wood for her.  As he stood back, she judged how far she had to raise the ax to come down clean on top and in the middle.  Taking a deep breath, she lifted it and swung.  A tiny sliver shaved off the top piece while the bottom base fell.  Of course the weak woman looked like an idiot in front of the big, strong man.  “Least I still have both my legs.”  She had to find a bright side.

              He looked her over.  “Yeah, you do.  By the way, you look a mess.”

              Really? “Sorry.  My cocktail dress is at the cleaners.”

              That made him laugh, which made Eva forget being pissed at his insult.  The sound vibrated inside her chest, not to mention it changed the entire dynamic of his face.  He actually looked, well, less intimidating. “Good one”.

              She finally decided to ask him the same question she did after catching him in the back of her store.  “What’re you doing here?”

              Picking up the base piece of wood, he perched the edge of his ass upon it.  “I’m your ride. Miss. Sinclair.”

              “My ride….?” Eva halted when her wheels spun in a different direction.  “I never told you my last name.”

              If he wasn’t so damn good looking that smug look would’ve pissed her off. “Didn’t tell me your address either, yet you didn’t figure it out when Taz showed up to get your car this morning.”

              Oh, that did it.  Her focus on his rather large hands and ‘come hither’ eyes suddenly dampened.  “Okay.  Are you……did you look into me or something?”

              “Or something.”

              What a jerk.  What an intimidating, good-looking jerk.  “I can’t believe this!”  She went to head up to the deck and back inside the house.  “I think you better leave,” she continued to say, walking away from him.  “I’ll find my own ride……”

              She turned and found him smack behind her.  Now she was seriously unnerved as he was completely calm.  “Chill out, darlin’.  Ain’t what you think.”

              Glancing across the yard, Mrs. Bachman was sitting on her deck, peering over from behind the grocery flyer.  Folding her arms, Eva leaned against the railing.  “Okay, fine.  How
did
you find out my last name and address?”

              He held his arms okay.  “Okay, fine,” he mimicked her.  “I had my guy check into you.”

              “Your……
guy
?  You have a
guy
for that?”

              “The club does.”

              “Why?”

              He shook his head.  “Discussion for another time.  Look, Eva.  The Skulls know pretty much everything in Tippitt, including the businesses.  Guess we somehow overlooked yours, seeing how you only been in there for six months.”

              Holy shit, he really did look into her.  “This is crazy.  Why do you need to know about me and my business?”

              “Like I said, club just likes to know everyone in town.”

              “Could’ve done it the old fashioned way and ask.  Would’ve been easier.”

              “Yeah, but not as fun.  Plus, you could always lie.”

              “About what?  I don’t know what else you found, but I’m sure it wasn’t much.”

              He nodded.  “True.  Actually, it was quite dull.”

              She narrowed her eyes.  “I prefer…..uneventful.”

              He swept his hand out.  “Noted.”

              Her anger was starting to dissipate.  “So, how’d you get roped into being my ride?”

              He leaned against the railing next to her.  “After Taz brought your car back, he told me what house it was.  I remember riding by it a lot.  Some hermit old lady who rarely came out.  Guess I was curious.”  He looked around again. “You live here by yourself?”

              “Didn’t your internet search tell you I was single?”

              He laughed again, this time a little heartier, which chipped away at how infuriated she was.  “Touche.”

              “There’s a lot of deferred maintenance,” she began to tell him.  “Kitchen’s badly dated.”  She stopped when she realized he wasn’t listening, but rather looking at the house. 
Really
looking at it.  She opened her mouth, then closed it before realizing, what the hell, he already knew practically everything about her fit for public record.  Plus, he didn’t have the ax and she knew where the knives were stored.  “You want a tour?”

              Something about his countenance changed which tugged deep inside Eva’s chest she couldn’t quite pinpoint.  He looked at her with what seemed to be a hopeful look on his face.  “You sure?”

              “Yeah.”  She reached for the deck door and slid it open.  “Come in.”

              Almost reluctantly he stepped inside, coming to abrupt halt at the sight of all her unpacked stuff littering the kitchen.  It was pretty much the same look he had in the stockroom at her store.  The guy obviously didn’t like clutter.  “As you can see, kitchen needs new everything.  Good news is that this is probably the worst room.  Everything else is just cosmetic.”

              She led him through the kitchen, watching him stare at everything crammed on the table, countertop, floor and stove, and into the dining room.  “This is why I look a mess,” she mused.  “Took down a mural which was on this wall.”

              Ben lifted a hand and ran it over the newly, uncovered wall.  “Why?”

              “If you saw it you wouldn’t have to ask.  Anyway, I’m going to paint…..”

              Again, her words fell on deaf ears as he looked caught in his own world.  His eyes slowly went over every corner, every molding, every inch of wood floor.  The house wasn’t historical nor had a lot of architectural flair.  It was just old.  But he acted as if he was looking around Buckingham Palace.  He then ran his fingertips along the length of the pine dining table.  A tiny shiver went down her back watching those thick, rough fingers tenderly graze the gleaming smoothness of the wood.  “Um, once I paint in here all I’ll have to do is give the floors a polish.  Ones in the living room had to be completely refinished.  I was told the old lady practically lived in there when she got too old to go up the stairs, which is why the second floor’s in pretty good shape.”

              Ben continued to walk around on his own as she trailed giving commentary she was sure he was ignoring.  She stopped talking when he entered the living room, staring at the fireplace as if it was a long, lost love.  “This is nice.”  He reached up to touch it, again, gently running his fingertips over the textured stone.  “You don’t see this quality anymore.”