Loving The Country Boy (Barrett's Mill Book 4) (7 page)

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Authors: Mia Ross

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #Inspirational, #Christian Romance, #Worship, #The Lord, #Second-Chance, #Explosion, #Wife, #Start Family, #Mechanic, #Country Boy, #True Love

BOOK: Loving The Country Boy (Barrett's Mill Book 4)
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“I guess he thought it was his out.” Sniffling, she went on. “When I was going to be the mother of his child, he was only too happy to marry me. When that changed, so did he.”

“I doubt that,” Heath spat, struggling to keep a grip on his temper. “I’ve met plenty of guys like him, and rich or poor they’re all the same. When the going’s easy, they’re fine. Give ’em a problem or two, and they’re gone. He didn’t deserve you, and you’re better off without him.”

To his surprise, she settled her palm over their stacked hands and gave him the bravest smile he’d ever seen. “How is it,” she asked in a watery voice, “that someone I just met knows exactly what to say to make me feel better?”

“Practice,” he admitted, seeking to lighten the mood with a rueful grin. “I’ll do anything to keep a lady from crying.”

That got him a hiccupping laugh, and then she got serious again. “So now you see why I’m so worried about Chelsea. She’s much further along than I was, feeling the baby kick and move, setting up a nursery and everything. I can’t imagine how tragic it would be for them to lose their child now.”

“You were praying with us earlier,” he pointed out gently. “The rest of your family’s doing the same, along with everyone else in town. Don’t you think that’ll help?”

“I hope so.”

It was obvious she didn’t share his faith in the Almighty, and he seized the opportunity to nudge her toward something that could only make her life better. “Maybe you’d feel more confident about it if you talked to God more often.”

“You mean, like go to church?” When he nodded, she frowned. “I don’t know. Gram invited me, but it’s already been a long week and I’m really looking forward to sleeping in Sunday morning.”

Hearing more than reluctance in her excuse, Heath instantly backed off. In his experience, people didn’t respond well to being pressured into doing something that didn’t come naturally to them. This was a very personal decision for Tess, and he’d never dream of trying to coerce her into attending a service.

“No problem,” he said. “If you change your mind, we’ll be at the Crossroads Church at the end of Main Street.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Her extremely polite tone warned him it was time to drop the subject. “So, any ideas for the harvest display?”

“Does it really have to be scarecrows?” When he nodded, she grimaced but went on. “The only one I’ve ever seen up close was in
The Wizard of Oz
.”

Her little grin told him she was exaggerating, and he chuckled. “Not many scarecrows on Rodeo Drive, huh?”

“Not unless you count our customers. Some of those women had been nipped and tucked to within an inch of their lives. They were just so...”

“Phony?” he suggested when she seemed at a loss for words.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Sighing, she added, “I don’t mean to sound melodramatic about it, but sometimes I wondered if anyone I knew was who they claimed to be.”

“That’d be a problem for someone like you. You’re too down-to-earth for all that nonsense.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Despite the protest, there was a hopeful glimmer in her dark eyes, as if she really wanted to believe him. Since right now he knew her extended family better than she did, he searched for a way to prove it to her. Inspiration struck, and he said, “I think you’ve got a lot more country in you than you realize.”

“I’m not following you.”

“Look around this place,” he continued, leaning his arms on the table. “What word comes to mind?”

She glanced into the woods then circled back to the mill house and its steadily thrumming waterwheel. The nearly black sky was sprinkled with stars, and as she looked up, a gentle smile played over her refined features. “Peaceful.”

In that single word, he heard a lot more than she’d probably meant to tell him. He’d met a lot of people during his travels, and their stories had always intrigued him. It made him sad to know that the beautiful woman sitting across from him was carrying such a heavy burden all by herself. More than once, she’d referred to her busy life in LA, and not in a good way. It made him wonder if she might consider chucking that glittering existence in favor of something calmer.

Like Barrett’s Mill.

The thought jumped into his mind on its own, startling him with the possibility of Tess being around much longer than he’d anticipated. He still had no intention of getting serious with anyone just now, but he knew that if Tess stayed in town, sticking with that plan could prove to be extremely difficult for him. Who was he kidding? Smart and sassy, she fascinated him on a regular basis. Steering clear of her would be downright impossible.

“So,” she began as she scooped up the last bit of pie filling. “Now that we’re sharing, I’m curious what brought you back here after all these years.”

“There’s really not that much to tell.”

Meeting his eyes over the camping lantern in the center of the table, she pinned him with a look that clearly said she knew otherwise. “I noticed you rubbing your shoulder earlier. Were you hurt up in Alaska?”

That she’d come so close to the truth rattled him pretty hard, but he managed to nod. “Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“I was working on one of those big oil rigs, and there was an explosion.” Only his parents knew what had brought him back to Virginia, but once he kicked the door open, the whole story came pouring out. “Four guys died in the fire, and a dozen others were badly injured. I was on my way off the platform when it happened, so I got blown clear of the worst of it. The whole thing shook me up pretty bad.”

“I can only imagine,” she murmured in a tone laced with sympathy. “What a horrible thing to go through.”

“I was in shock, I guess, ’cause I don’t remember the EMTs taking me to the hospital. I spent a few days there, and when the doctor cleared me to leave, I got in a taxi and went straight to the airport. Didn’t even know where I was going.” Months later, the stench of smoke and burning oil was still fresh in his memory, and he took a deep breath, reminding himself the chaos was all in his head. “At the ticket counter, the clerk asked me where I wanted to go, and at first I had no clue. She was an older woman, and I half expected her to call security to come get this nutcase bandaged up like a mummy, but she didn’t. Instead, she smiled at me and asked if I wanted to go home. That clicked for me, and she got me the last seat on a flight that ended up in Roanoke.”

He hadn’t told anyone—not even his parents—that part of the story. Reliving it choked him up more than he cared to admit. Glancing over at Tess, he noticed her own chin quivering before she firmed it into a smile. “I’m glad she did. After a tragedy like that, you need to be where you feel safe and can be around people who care about you.”

In all honesty, he sometimes felt like he’d run away from home at eighteen, and when the world kicked him a little too hard, he’d come crawling back. Fearing that might make her feel worse about her own circumstances, he decided it was best to keep that detail to himself.

While they’d been talking, a spirited argument had broken out inside the mill house, and she glanced at her watch. “It’s been five minutes, and they’re still at it. I suppose we should get in there before they kill each other.”

“Sounds good,” he agreed, grateful for the distraction.

He stood and waited for her before starting up the steps. Pausing on the tread above him, she turned back with a wry smile. “How ironic that the new Barrett in town is turning out to be the voice of reason around this place.”

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”

Nailing him with what he sincerely hoped was a mock glare, she spun around and continued up the steps. It was good to see she had some fire under that icy veneer, he thought as he followed her. With the challenges she and her family were facing right now, she was going to need all the attitude she could get.

Chapter Six

T
he rest of Tess’s first week at the mill flew by in a whirlwind of paperwork, fielding phone calls and monitoring orders on the website. They came in from all over the country, Canada and a few even originated overseas, which required her to flag them for special shipping arrangements to ensure those items would arrive in time for Christmas. Chelsea had set up an alarm to let Tess know when a new order arrived, and even though it was a pleasant chiming sound, it seemed to interrupt her at the worst possible times.

Then there was the crew. Even with Scott and Jason at the helm, they were an unruly bunch of men’s men who were polite enough but clearly didn’t view her with the same respect they did Chelsea. After a few days, she’d come to the conclusion that being a Barrett would only get her so far with the locals. The rest was up to her.

All this ran through her head as she drove through town on Saturday morning. As an experienced retail girl, Tess was accustomed to being available on weekends, so the extra workday didn’t bother her. Now that the mill was running more smoothly, she was optimistic that today would go well. Still, she was fairly certain this shift was going to be worlds away from the classical music, lattes and scones she used to have for her customers in Beverly Hills.

For one thing, she knew if she brought in fancy treats like that, her rough-around-the-edges cousins and their buddies would laugh themselves hoarse. So she stopped by the bakery and picked up a few dozen assorted donuts and a couple of flaky croissants for herself. She added a to-go tray of steaming coffee and some soothing tea for Chelsea. Everything was so fresh, the aroma made her stomach rumble as she loaded them into the truck and headed for Paul and Chelsea’s. Each day, one family member or another stopped by to check on them and bring the expectant parents something yummy to eat. Tess was proud to be chipping in, even if it was only to deliver donuts and coffee.

Seven-thirty was still like the crack of dawn for her, but she was getting used to the early mornings and long hours that seemed to be a part of life in this blue-collar town. Several people beeped at her, raising their hands in a good-morning salute she returned with a smile. While she didn’t know most of them, she thought it was nice of them to acknowledge the new Barrett in town that way. On the LA freeway, she recalled grimly, it was almost unheard of to make it to your destination without someone in a rush cutting you off. Or worse.

When she arrived at her cousin’s home, Boyd bounded through the front yard to greet her, his large ears flapping in excitement. Apparently, they were best friends now, and as he wrapped his legs around her waist in a canine hug, she was glad she’d worn jeans.

“Good morning to you, too, handsome,” she cooed, ruffling his jowls as she planted a kiss over his droopy eyes.

Accustomed to dealing with more refined personalities, she found his unabashed exuberance a delightful change of pace. Come to think of it, she mused as she crunched through the fallen leaves to the front door, the people around here were the same way. Outgoing and friendly and, like Heath and Fred, ready to lend a hand when needed. It hadn’t taken her long to get used to that, and she marked the difference as another in the
pro
column for this sleepy little town.

She knocked softly on the front door and was surprised when Paul opened it almost immediately.

“I smell coffee,” he said simply, stepping back to let her inside.

“Molly Harkness insisted I bring you some.” His enthusiasm made her smile, and she handed it over. “She said it’s your favorite blend.”

After a long sip, he let out an appreciative sigh. “It is, but don’t tell Gram.”

“Don’t worry,” she assured him with a wink. “Your secret’s safe with me. Is Chelsea awake? I’ve got croissants.”

“Oh, bless you,” a voice chimed in from the living room. “I’m starving.”

As they strolled in Paul reminded his wife, “You just ate an hour ago.”

From her lounging position on the sofa, she gave him one of those raised eyebrow looks. “And I’ll eat in another hour, too. This is a Barrett I’m growing in here, you know.”

“So you keep telling me,” he replied with a chuckle.

Tess noticed an antique piano stool in the corner and glanced around. “Where’s the piano?”

“I have no idea,” Chelsea admitted while she tore apart the tender croissant and popped a piece in her mouth. “I found the stool at an antiques show over in Cambridge and thought it was interesting so I bought it.”

Okay. In Tess’s world, no one bought anything that didn’t match what they already owned, so the eclectic approach to decorating was new to her. Still, the pieces Chelsea had used seemed to complement each other, in a shabby-chic kind of way. “How’s the bathroom coming, Paul?”

“It’s usable, but there’s still some finishing work left. Fortunately, we had a powder room on this floor already so I just had to enlarge it for a step-in shower. I figure it’ll come in handy when we’re old and creaky.”

“I can’t wait until the baby comes so you can stop carrying me up and down the stairs,” his wife added.

“And here I thought it was romantic.”

They traded a loving look, and Tess couldn’t help envying them their happiness. Despite their obvious worry over the baby, they had each other to lean on, to help make things a little easier to navigate. Having weathered the loss of her baby and then her fiancé completely on her own, she wished someone had been there to offer her a shoulder to lean on.

Someone like Heath.

Out of nowhere, his name popped into her mind. At first she didn’t understand why, and then she recalled their conversation during the worknight picnic at the mill. How he’d reached out to comfort her over something that had happened months ago, even though they hadn’t known each other then. Instinctively, she knew that if she ever found herself in trouble now, he’d be there for her. Not to mention her extended family, who accepted her just as she was, rather than harping on one flaw or another the way her parents and siblings had always done.

That was when it hit her. The problem wasn’t with her, the way she’d always assumed. It was with them. Driven by their desire for wealth and status, they discounted anything outside that realm as worthless or a waste of time.

When she’d told him about her plans to come east and help out at the sawmill, her father had stared at her as if they’d never met. What would he think of the upcoming scarecrow contest? she wondered. Then, to her amazement, she realized she couldn’t possibly care less. Maybe Heath was right and she had more country in her than she thought. Whatever the reason, she resolved to embrace this new opportunity and make the most of it.

Wherever it might take her, at least this time she was charting her own path instead of following one that had been chosen for her. When it occurred to her that Paul had asked her a question, she dragged her brain away from her meandering thoughts and said, “Sorry, I checked out there for a second. What did you say?”

“I asked how things are going for you at the mill. Chelsea and I have never been gone this long, and I’m sure you’ve had a few issues out there.”

“Meaning your brothers?” When he chuckled, she quickly went on. “They’ve been great, and so has everyone else. Everyone knows I’m still learning, so they’re being patient with me.” Most of the time. And when they weren’t, she handled the situation with what was rapidly becoming her approach to life in general: humor and a smile. To her delight, not only did people respond better to her now, but she was enjoying her days more, too. They weren’t easy, by any means, but she had a much better understanding of the motivational plaque in Chelsea’s office: Attitude is everything.

“And production? How far behind are we?”

“We’re not. Everything’s going fine.”

Technically, she was telling the truth. As far as she was concerned, the fact that she’d revamped the schedule to allow for having only one working saw was something Paul didn’t need to worry about.

Unfortunately, his wife wasn’t so easily fooled. She gave Tess a long, suspicious look but thankfully didn’t say anything. Apparently, she shared the family’s opinion that Paul was needed much more at home than at the mill. Tess hoped that by the time he returned on Monday, the other two saws would be up and running at full strength, and the temporary slowdown could remain a well-guarded secret.

“Well, I should get going,” she said as she stood up. “I promised the crew I’d bring them breakfast, and I don’t want them beating me to work.” Leaning down, she hugged Chelsea. “Take good care of yourself, now. Your only job is to give that little one as much time as he needs to get ready to come into the world, okay?”

Chelsea’s eyes shone with sudden emotion, and she nodded. “Thanks, Tess. I don’t know where we’d be without your help. You’re a real lifesaver.”

Tess couldn’t recall ever being referred to that way, and she felt herself getting a little misty, too. Before she gave in to actual tears, she waved good-bye and followed Paul into the foyer. With his hand on the antique glass knob, he gave her a long, somber look. “Before you go, I think there’s something you oughta know.”

“Really?” His manner was making her very uncomfortable, and she did her best to appear unconcerned. “What’s that?”

“You’re a terrible liar.” His serious expression gave way to a grin. “If you were a puppet, your nose would be longer than when you got here.”

Pulling herself up to her full height, she gave him a steely glare. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

That only made him laugh, and after a couple of seconds she joined him. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“Are we gonna make our holiday deadlines?”

“Yes. Everyone said they’d donate overtime if that’s what it takes to get all the work done.”

“Then it sounds to me like the business is in good hands,” he said with a warm smile. “Great job.”

Unaccustomed to receiving praise for anything other than her fashion sense, Tess appreciated the pat on the back more than she could say. But to Paul, she simply said, “Thanks.”

A bark sounded out front, and they looked out to find Boyd in the back of the old mill truck, eagerly wagging his tail.

“I think he wants to come with me,” she commented with another laugh.

“Would it be too much for you to take him with you? Daisy doesn’t mind lying on the couch with Chelsea all day, but he’s going bonkers cooped up in the house. He never wanders far from the mill, but he loves running around in the woods and up to Scott and Jenna’s place.”

“No problem,” she blurted without a second thought. She’d never had a pet, and even though he wasn’t hers, the concept of bringing the big bloodhound to work with her had a nice, homey appeal.

“His food’s in a bin in the office, and he’ll let you know when he wants to go out,” Paul said as he walked her to the truck. “You’re not having any more trouble with this old beast, are you?”

“Not since Heath worked on it last. In fact, I was hoping it would be okay for me to keep using it.”

“You mean, even after Gram’s car is fixed?” When she nodded, he gave her a confused look. “Why?”

She ran her hand over the rough hood, wondering if she was losing her mind. Normally, she wasn’t the sort of girl to get all mushy over a car, but this one was different somehow. “It’s grown on me, I guess. Now that I’ve got the hang of the transmission and found an AM station I like, it’s kind of fun to drive.”

“Fine by me. It’s not like anyone’s lining up to take it off your hands.”

“Not quite.”

Laughing, he said, “Thanks so much for letting Boyd tag along. You’re gonna make his day.”

“It’ll be nice to have some company in the office. You ready to go, handsome?” she asked, reaching over the side of the cargo area to pat his head. Woofing, he rubbed his cheek against her hand as if he actually understood her.

She climbed into the cab and pulled away from the house, taking the curve gently to avoid upsetting the dog’s balance. For his part, he stood at the front of the truck bed, his head dangling just behind where she sat as he gulped in the cool morning breeze. If only her LA friends could see her now, she thought with a grin. They’d think she’d completely lost her marbles.

When she drove past Mill Office Supply, she noticed Paige by the old-fashioned lamppost out front, surrounded by bales of straw. Her curiosity piqued, Tess pulled up to the curb and waved at the clerk through the open passenger window. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Cogitating, as my grandpa Ike would say. I’m in charge of our scarecrow display this year, and I’ve got no idea where to start.”

Tess laughed, happy to discover she wasn’t the only one struggling with her unusual assignment. “Me, too. Except I’m not even at the cogitating phase yet. It got sprung on me the other night, and I didn’t have the brainpower left to do much more than nod.”

“Oh, you’re a Barrett,” Paige reminded her confidently. “You’ll do great.”

Tess still wasn’t entirely certain what being a Barrett meant to the folks around here, but anytime someone mentioned it, they seemed to have something good to say about her family. That they’d begun including her in that positive light made her feel more at home every day. “I forgot to ask the boys about the rules. Is there some kind of theme we have to follow?”

“No, but what a great idea! I’ll bring it up at this month’s town meeting so we can add it for next year.”

Seriously? Tess wondered silently. A town meeting? In her experience, those were reserved for campaign season, when candidates were anxious to impress voters with how in touch they were with the needs and concerns of regular people. For some reason, the notion of attending a less contrived version appealed to her, and she asked, “Can anyone go to those?”

“Sure. As long as you behave yourself,” Paige added with a grin. “A couple months ago, Grandpa got tossed for laughing at a proposal he thought was completely ridiculous. To be fair he was probably right, but our mayor, Bruce Harkness, brought it up, and he didn’t take kindly to being ridiculed in front of everyone.”

Tess was officially running late, and she tried to tamp down her inquisitiveness so she could get going. Really, she did, but in the end she couldn’t resist asking, “What was the idea?”

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