Homecoming Reunion (13 page)

“That means a lot to me,” she said.

Their gazes held and once again old emotions laced with newer ones arced between them. He let his gaze rest on her face so familiar and yet so different.

Older. More mature. More confident.

More beautiful, if that was possible.

He had to fight the urge to reach out and tuck a stray strand of hair back under the bandana.

He felt his hand rising up.

“Just the people I need to talk to.”

Garret groaned as Mrs. Rochester’s voice broke into the moment.

He turned to face the housekeeper, dredging up a smile. “What can we do for you?”

“I can’t work around this,” she said, waving her hand at the plastic-covered hallway. “I can’t possibly do what needs to be done each evening up here. It’s a disaster.”

“Why don’t we talk about this downstairs?” Larissa said, taking Mrs. Rochester’s arm and easing her away from Garret. “I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

But before she left Larissa shot Garret a warm smile that did nothing for his equilibrium. “I just have to take care of this,” she said.

“Yes. Sure. Okay.” He took a step back, then spun around and strode down the hallway, entering the room he had been assigned to work on with his cousin.

“What’s wrong with you?” Hailey asked as he picked up the paint roller. “You look like someone just kicked your dog.”

“I don’t have a dog,” Garret retorted, hoping Hailey wouldn’t connect his confused emotions with his meeting with Larissa out in the hallway.

“I guess we’re not talking about your little chat with Larissa, though I can’t figure out what she said that would have put that grumpy look on your face.” Hailey dipped her brush in the paint and carefully coated the corner of the wall.

It wasn’t what Larissa said that bothered him, Garret thought, rolling the butter-yellow paint over the whitish-gray undercoat. It was how she looked. How she sounded.

How, in spite of being liberally sprinkled with paint, he could still catch the scent of her perfume.

And that’s enough.

“Larissa sure picked out some nice colors,” Hailey was saying.

“Yeah. She did.”

“Got a good eye,” Hailey added with a knowing wink.

Garret rolled some more paint on the wall, ignoring his cousin’s knowing smirk.

“I can’t believe Larissa conned you into helping. I thought you were supposed to be walking around, looking all managerial, cracking the whip and keeping us on task,” Hailey teased.

“I’ve painted before,” Garret said, dipping his roller in the tray. “This way I can keep the most unruly of our workers in line, though I really appreciate the help.”

When Larissa first mentioned getting people to paint, Garret wondered who would be willing. But he underestimated both Larissa’s ability to sweet-talk and the generosity of the community. The last couple of days the inn was a beehive of activity and, surprisingly, laughter as friends and neighbors and family all pitched in.

“I’m helping because I have a stake in getting this place shipshape,” Hailey said, getting off her chair and moving it so she could finish up around the window. “Though we have the church and hall booked as a backup, Shannon and I still dream of having our weddings here.”

“I don’t know what shape the grounds will be in by then.”

“You’ve done a ton of work already,” Hailey said.

“And there’s about five tons that need to be done yet.” Garret thought of the overgrown tangle of shrubs and trees he hadn’t had a chance to work on. “And that crazy grass keeps growing.”

“We could all help with that too,” Hailey said, shooting a glance over her shoulder. “I’ve pushed a mower a time or two in my life. Even ran the riding mower at the ranch.”

“I hope your mowing skills have improved since then,” Garret said, his smile growing as his mind slipped back in time. “I remember a run-in with Nana’s lilac bush and a detour through the garden.”

“You still blaming a faulty throttle on me?” Hailey said in mock horror, pressing a paint-stained hand against her chest. “Besides, the lilac bush needed some trimming and I believe there’s still a dent in Naomi’s cabin from when you hit it with the same mower with the same faulty throttle.”

Garret laughed, surprised at the raft of memories filing his mind since spending time with his family. “Speaking of Naomi, I heard she’s coming back in a couple of weeks.”

Hailey’s smile faded as she nodded. “Yeah. I’m surprised my dear sister stayed in Halifax as long as she did.”

“A month after her fiancé died isn’t that long.”

“I just wished she would have come here. So we could have helped her through this time.”

Garret felt a touch of sorrow for his cousin Naomi. “I’m surprised at her strength. I talked to her yesterday and she seemed so calm.”

“That’s our Naomi. Always the strong, quiet one.” Hailey tapped her paintbrush against the container she held and released a melancholy laugh. “As opposed to me who can never keep her mouth shut. Or your brother Carter who is having a little bit too much fun. You might want to go check on him when you’re done here.” Her smile returned along with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “Or you could see what Larissa is up to.”

Garret looked away as he rolled some more paint on the wall. The help was great but Hailey’s constant innuendos concerning Larissa he could do without. “Larissa has Alanna working with her.”

Thankfully Hailey said nothing more on that topic but as they worked they talked about the ranch, their nana, the community and Hailey even touched on Garret’s church attendance.

He didn’t mind. Since coming back he was surprised how easily he slipped into the lives of his cousins and how quickly he had found his own place here.

He let his mind drift a bit more, letting himself look to the future and wondering what shape it would take.

Whom he might be with.

“This is awesome. You guys have done a great job.”

Larissa’s voice behind him gave him a start and he spun around.

“Looks like you got more paint on yourself than the wall,” Garret said.

Larissa looked down at her shirt laughing. “Alanna tried to have a paint fight. I held her off, but this was the result.”

“A paint fight? At $32.00 a gallon?”

“Alanna can be such a child,” Larissa said. Then she held up her phone. “By the way, just got a call from My House and Yours in Cranbrook. They have a new shipment in of duvet covers. I’m going in and check them out.”

“Now?” Garret glanced at his watch. It was already 3:00 p.m. in the afternoon and Cranbrook was an hour’s drive away. “Cutting it a bit close, aren’t you?”

“I don’t have time to go tomorrow or the day after.” She glanced at Hailey. “I’m guessing you’re done here.”

“You’re guessing right,” Hailey said stepping of the chair. “We’ll come back tomorrow and do the other room.”

Then Larissa held up her phone. “I should get going.”

“Do you need me to come?” Garret asked.

“You don’t need to.”

Garret wasn’t sure if she was giving him an out or being understanding, but he felt as if he should go along. He didn’t want her making all the decisions about the inn.

It had nothing to do with spending time with her. This was strictly professional he told himself.

On another level, however, he knew it was an excuse to spend some more time with her. To find out what was going on between them.

Because he knew something was.

“Most everyone is done here and Sheila said she would stay for a while longer,” he said, glancing at his watch. “She can make sure we don’t have any more disgruntled customers.”

“Okay then, let’s go,” Larissa said, surprising him with her lack of resistance. Was she also sensing his growing awareness of her? Did she feel the same?

Garret sent his cousin a quick wave goodbye, ignoring Hailey’s faint smirk.

This was business. Nothing more. That was the only reason he was going along.

So why did his heart quicken at the thought of spending some time with Larissa away from the inn? Away from the constant stream of people?

Chapter Ten

“I
can’t believe we got everything we needed,” Larissa said, trundling one of the laden carts toward the exit of the store.

“And we did it without bloodshed,” Garret joked, following Larissa with his own cart. “Though it’s pretty hard to draw blood when your only weapons are sheets and pillowcases.”

Larissa’s pealing laugh warmed him. “You had your chance when we picked up pictures and frames for the rooms. Those things have sharp corners.”

“The mood had passed by then,” he said with a grin, pleased at what they had accomplished in such a short time.

Yet, he knew there was more to the feeling of goodwill that wrapped him as comfortingly as the duvets they had just purchased.

This time with Larissa, away from the inn, away from other people, allowed him to feel more relaxed around her. Gave him a chance to sort out his changing feelings and try to figure out what he should do about them.

Try to understand why she thought he would have taken her father’s money. The tentative conversation on the subject hadn’t been enough. He felt that if they could resolve the money issue once and for all, their business relationship would go more smoothly. Because whether he liked it or not, Jack would return from his extended stay in Asia and he was as much a partner in this business as Garret was. Larissa held the balance of power and he would prefer that she were on his side, rather than Jack’s.

Yet, even as he thought that, he knew there were deeper underlying reasons he wanted to remove the barriers the past had put between them. He wasn’t ready to examine them too closely, but for now he wanted to nurture the ray of hope that sprung up in his chest when he touched her cheek and she gave him a genuine smile in return.

They stepped outside the store and Garret was surprised to see the sun hovering above the horizon. In the store, with its bright lights and lack of windows, time had stood still.

“I didn’t know it was this late,” Larissa said, glancing at her watch as she parked the cart by the car. “My goodness, seven o’clock already.”

“Lunch was a long time ago,” Garret grumbled as he opened the back door. As he took the packages from Larissa, the blinking lights of a restaurant caught his eye. “You as hungry as I am?” he asked, glancing back at Larissa.

“Actually, yes,” she said.

“So why don’t we grab a bite to eat at that restaurant over there?” he asked, indicating with his chin as he continued loading the parcels into the back of the car. “We can leave the car here and walk over.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” Larissa’s quiet response was accompanied by a careful smile, which only served to ignite the flicker of hope glowing in his soul the past few days.

He knew he should be careful. He had come to Hartley Creek with a plan. Yet, as he and Larissa strode over the almost deserted parking lot to the restaurant, a sense of anticipation washed over him. Anticipation he sensed had been building between them ever since he admitted to her that he had never forgotten her.

When they got to the restaurant and he was settled into a booth across from Larissa, her hair shining in the lights of the restaurant, a gentle smile hovering on her lips, his anticipation grew and settled into the part of his soul that had been empty ever since he walked away from Hartley Creek and Larissa all those years ago.

The waitress handed him a menu, a tall black affair with a padded cover and the name of the restaurant printed in raised gold letters on the front. When they had stepped inside the restaurant and he saw the brick fireplaces flanking the entrance and the waterfall behind the hostess desk, he had an inkling supper wasn’t going to be cheap.

Larissa waited until their friendly waiter was out of earshot, then closed her menu and leaned forward with a concerned expression. “We don’t have to eat here. Have you seen these prices?”

“I’ve seen worse,” he said, unable to resist adding a wink.

“We could just go get a burger,” she said lowering her voice.

Garret reached over, and opened her menu to the entrée section. “You know what? In all the time we were dating I never had a chance to take you anywhere but Mug Shots. Let me at least make up for that by treating you to a nice dinner here.”

Larissa tilted her head, as if trying to see him from a new angle, her gaze holding his, a quizzical expression on her face.

“I’ve got paint spatters on my face.”

“I probably do too,” he said easing out a smile, surprised at the emotions wavering between them. “But I always wanted to do this for you. To let you know how special you were to me.” The words slipped out before he could stop them.

“Was I special to you?”

He recognized the hesitantly spoken question for what it was. They were slipping into a new and different place, one still tinged with the past.

“Yes. You...were.” He wanted to tell her that she still was but he wasn’t sure that was a place they should go right away. Emotions were still unsteady between them, but at the same time, he felt his own feelings shifting.

She looked down at the menu, running her thumb along the edge of it. “When we were talking, a few days back, about...about my father and what happened in the past, you seemed to think I had certain expectations of you when we were dating.”

“What do you mean?”

Larissa fingered a strand of hair away from her face and even in the dim light of the restaurant he saw the paint spatters she was so concerned about still decorating her forehead. He thought of the one he had smoothed off her face and how surprised he’d been at his own reaction to touching her.

“You made it sound as if I thought you should keep me in the manner to which I was accustomed.”

He released a quiet sigh, trying to figure out where to go from here. “I did feel that way and like I said before, I felt pretty inadequate when I saw your house and how you had grown up. I didn’t think I deserved to take care of you.”

Larissa’s smile grew melancholy. “Part of me understands that,” she said quietly. Then she looked up at him, holding his gaze, her own surprisingly intent. “I guess I would have liked to have been given a chance to prove that idea wrong.”