Rainbow's End (7 page)

He'd never expected it to be this easy. “That's great. Thank you. But the thing is, I do have a little cash flow problem. I've been on the road for almost a year and my funds are running pretty low. Despite the great rates you charge, I can't stay a whole lot longer unless I find work. I was hoping you'd be able to point me to some area contractors or carpenters who might be interested in taking on a temporary employee.”

“You don't need to worry about the money. I told you, the cabin is just sitting there vacant. You're welcome to use it as long as you like.”

“I won't stay without paying my way.”

“I don't need the money, Keith. I told you that when you first brought this up.”

“Maybe not. But I need to pay.”

Ah. It was a pride thing, Jill realized, backing off. “Okay. Fine. The rate's less for an extended stay.”

“It can't get much less.”

“Yes, it can.” When the weekly rate she quoted brought a frown to his face, she crossed her hands over her chest. “And I won't consider a penny more. Take it or leave it.”

At first she thought he was going to argue, but once again he surprised her by chuckling instead. “You drive a hard bargain, lady.”

A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. “Does that mean we have a deal?”

“Yeah.” He held out his hand, and after a brief hesitation she took it. His fingers closed around hers, warm and strong and firm, and she was sorry when he let go. “But I still need to find work. Can you direct me to anyone?”

“I'm afraid not. I don't know many of the island people.” Suddenly an inspiration began to take shape in her mind, and her expression grew thoughtful. “But I have an idea. I've been wanting to build a studio ever since I got here. The upstairs room I use now isn't ideal. I've even drawn up a design.”

Leaning back in his chair, he wrapped his hands around his mug. “So you're the artist. I saw all the equipment in the cabin the night I arrived.” The irony wasn't lost on him. What a cruel twist of fate that a woman who created beauty should have her own so disfigured.

“I try, anyway. I used the cabin as a studio at first, but there's not enough light there. The ideal spot would be over
there.” She indicated an empty stretch of ground behind the left side of the house. “How about this? I'll supply the materials and the design, you build me the studio, and we'll call it even. A barter arrangement.”

The idea appealed to Keith. If he built a studio for Jill, he could spend most of his time at Rainbow's End. What could be more perfect? But as he prepared to accept, he saw indecision cloud her eyes. “What's wrong?”

Her guest was observant, she'd give him that. “It just occurred to me that you'll be getting the short end of this deal. You'd come out ahead financially by working for someone else and paying me rent. Besides, a project this size would take weeks, and I…you haven't said how long you plan to stay.” She played with her cookie, which had now been reduced to crumbs.

The tension on his face eased. “Forget about the money. I'm not here to get rich. And as for the construction schedule, it could take anywhere from three or four weeks to three or fourth months to complete, depending on how grandiose your plans are. But I'm in no hurry to leave. And the arrangement sounds fine to me. If you'll throw in a hot meal every day, that is. And that's my counteroffer. Take it or leave it.”

He grinned at her, and an ember of happiness ignited deep in Jill's heart. It was tiny, but it was there. She told herself it was because at long last she would get the studio she'd always wanted. But it was more than that, and she knew it. Her happiness had also been fueled by the man who sat across from her. Keith Michaels, with his direct manner and his ability to coax her out of the solitary world she'd created for herself, had brought a refreshing newness to a life that had begun to grow stale. Until he'd knocked at her door, she hadn't even
realized that at some point over the past couple of years her life had gone from comfortable to confining.

Once more, the verse from Jeremiah replayed in her mind. And as it did, she sensed that Keith Michaels was part of whatever plan God had in mind for her. Now she just needed to put her trust in the Lord and see where He led her.

“G
racious! You weren't kidding when you said your house was a construction zone!”

Shooting her sister a quick look, Jill maneuvered the car around several piles of lumber and pulled up by her back door. “Keith doesn't waste any time.”

“When is the dump truck coming, Aunt Jill?”

Seven-year-old Dominic had ditched his seat belt the instant the house came into view and was now bouncing around in the back, trying to take it all in.

“Tomorrow. I hope you weren't planning to sleep in.”

“I like to get up early,” he assured her.

Deb rolled her eyes. “Why couldn't I have a normal kid who sleeps till noon in the summer?”

“Hey, I'm a normal kid,” Dominic protested.

“Above normal, I'd say,” Jill added.

“Except when it comes to sleeping in.” Deb stifled a yawn. “Sorry. It's been a long day. You could have picked somewhere to live that was easier to get to, you know.”

“I didn't want a place that was easy to get to. And stop com
plaining. Tourists pay a lot of money to come to this island. You're lucky you have a free place to stay.”

“Yeah. A construction site.”

Setting the brake, Jill poked her sister in the ribs. “Too bad Keith's in the cabin, or I'd put you out there.”

A mock shudder passed through Deb. “No, thank you. Once was enough. I still remember waking up that first night to find a deer staring at me through the window. Talk about freaking out! As a city girl, I prefer to view my wildlife from a distance. A long distance. Like on the TV screen.”

“Tell Keith that when you see him. When he heard you were coming, he wanted to move out so you'd have a place to stay. It was all I could do to convince him that you preferred the house, cramped as it is.”

“Hey, I'm used to sharing a bed. Besides, you take up less room than Tony—and you don't snore. But don't ever tell him I said that.”

Chuckling, Jill looked back at Dominic. “I hate relegating Dominic to a sleeping bag on the floor, though.”

“Are you kidding? He loves it. He thinks it's an adventure. Right, Dominic?”

The youngster was already opening the door, oblivious to the adult conversation. “Can I look at all that stuff, Aunt Jill?”

“Sure. But don't touch anything until Keith is around.”

“Where is your tenant, anyway?” Deb dropped her sun glasses into her purse.

“In the cabin, I expect. You'll see him tomorrow.” Jill opened the door and stepped out.

“I'm looking forward to meeting him.”

“Why?”

“Curious, I guess. Any man who could convince you to take him in has to be special.”

Lifting the trunk, Jill ignored Deb's comment and hefted out one of her suitcases. “What did you bring, anyway? The kitchen sink?”

“That's what Dad said when he dropped us off at the airport,” Dominic chimed in with a grin.

“Very funny. I only brought the absolute necessities.” Deb turned back to Jill. “You're avoiding the question.”

“I didn't hear one.” Jill handed Deb one of the bags. She should have figured her sister wouldn't drop the subject.

“What makes this guy special?”

“I didn't say he was.”

“You didn't have to. His mere presence is proof enough. Is he one of those hunky construction types, all muscles and hard hat?”

Planting her hands on her hips, Jill gave her sister an annoyed look. “He's just a nice guy, okay? A bit scruffy, but nice.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, fine.” Jill threw up her hands. “You can check him out for yourself tomorrow.”

“Oh, I intend to, dear sister. First thing tomorrow, after a good night's sleep.”

 

As it happened, “first thing tomorrow” turned out to be seven o'clock, when the rumble of a dump truck straining to ascend the drive broke the early-morning stillness.

Jill was up, of course. She'd always been an early riser. And Dominic hadn't been too far behind. He was already in the shower. Last time she'd looked, Deb had still been dead to the
world. Her slumber wouldn't last long with the racket that was coming from outside, though.

Since she saw no sign of Keith, Jill stepped onto the back porch, pulling her hat low over her face as she moved to the edge of the railing. A burly man was surveying the wooden forms Keith had built for the foundation and footing. “I'm afraid my construction manager isn't here yet,” Jill called to him from the shadows.

Shading his eyes, he peered up at her. “That's okay. I'm a little early. Keith said seven-thirty, but I thought it would take me longer to get here than it did. I don't come out this way much. Mighty pretty spot, though.”

“Thanks. Would you like a cup of coffee while you wait?”

“No thanks. Always bring my own java.” The man held up a thermos and grinned. “Nobody brews it as strong as I like. Pure grounds, the wife says.”

With a wave and a smile, Jill headed back inside. Deb was just walking into the kitchen, bleary-eyed, her short blond hair sticking out in all directions, her skin wiped clean of makeup. She wore faded jeans and a long, shapeless T-shirt that helped disguise the few extra pounds she'd been trying to lose for the past five years.

“You weren't kidding about an early morning, were you?” she groused good-naturedly.

“Nope. But look on the bright side. Since the concrete has to cure for a few days, it shouldn't be too noisy during the rest of your stay. Want some coffee?”

“I could be talked into it.”

As Jill poured a hearty cup and added a healthy dose of cream and sugar, she glimpsed Keith through the window, on
the far side of the meadow. “Well, you're about to get your first look at my tenant,” she told Deb, handing her the coffee.

That perked up her sister. Wrapping her hands around the mug, she moved to the window. “Where? Oh, I see him. Sort of. The sun's shining right in my eyes. Besides, I don't have my contacts in yet.” She squinted, then shook her head. “No good. I'll have to wait until he gets out of the glare and comes closer.”

A few minutes later, when the sound of male voices drifted in the open window on the other side of the kitchen, Deb made a move in that direction. Jill grabbed her arm and gave her a stern look. “It's not polite to eavesdrop.”

“I just want to get a look at him.”

“I'll introduce you as soon as he's done talking to the cement guy. Be patient.”

Making a face, Deb opened the refrigerator and began scrounging around. “So what's for breakfast? How about pancakes? The ones we had on our last visit were fabulous. I dreamed about them for weeks after we went home. I told Tony that I wasn't even going to worry about my diet while I was out here. I mean, what good is a vacation if you can't…”

A sharp rap at the back door interrupted her, and she straightened up. Jill flashed her a grin. “See? Everything comes to those who wait.”

As she pulled open the door to usher Keith in, Jill turned to Deb, planning to introduce her. But at her sister's incredulous expression the words died in her throat. Deb's mouth had dropped open, and the hand holding her mug was frozen halfway to her mouth. The way she was gaping at Keith was downright embarrassing, and hot color suffused Jill's cheeks. It wasn't like her sister to be rude. Even if her tenant was a little scruffy and rough around the
edges. But his appearance didn't call for the kind of reaction Deb was having.

Struggling to find some words to smooth over her sister's impoliteness, Jill turned to Keith—and had exactly the same response as she stared in shock at the man beside her. A man transformed.

Gone was the shaggy mane. His medium brown hair was now cut in a short, fashionable style. The stubble had disappeared, too, revealing a strong, clean-shaven jaw with an endearing cleft in the center that reminded her of Cary Grant. In the two weeks he'd been on the island, he'd also filled out a bit, and the angular bone structure of his face had softened. His jeans fit as if they'd been designed for him, and his snug T-shirt called attention to his broad chest and impressive biceps. A flicker of amusement deepened the cobalt blue of his eyes as he took in the reaction of the two women.

When the silence lengthened, he took the initiative. “Good morning, ladies. You must be Deb. I'm Keith Michaels.” He moved over to Deb and extended his hand.

For once, her sister seemed at a loss for words. She took his hand, then cleared her throat. “Hello.”

Grinning, Keith turned to Jill. “Sorry for the early start. I didn't expect the cement to arrive for at least another half hour. But he won't be here long. I hope we didn't disturb anyone.”

All Jill could manage was a shake of her head.

Still grinning, he disappeared through the door, leaving shocked silence in his wake.

“I thought you said he looked scruffy?” Deb croaked when she located her voice.

“He did.”

“You could have warned me, you know,” her sister continued, as if she hadn't heard Jill's reply.

“About what?”

Propping her hands on her hips, Deb shook her head. “Jill, I know you've been out of circulation for a while, but surely you can still recognize good looks when you see them.” Staring down at her clothes, Deb groaned and ran a hand through her hair. “I'm a mess! Talk about bad first impressions.”

“You look fine. And what does it matter, anyway? You're happily married. It's not like you're trying to attract a guy.”

“My dear sister, a woman always likes to be noticed by a handsome man. It's good for the ego.” She moved over to the window and peeked through the curtain. “Who is this guy, anyway? The way you described him, I thought he was some down-on-his-luck drifter. Now that I've seen him—no way.”

“I don't know anything about him, except that he's been on the road for a while.”

Turning back, Deb gave her sister a skeptical look. “The man's been living on your property for two weeks and that's all you've found out?”

“I didn't want to pry.”

“Prying and showing interest are two different things.” Deb's face grew thoughtful. “I see my work is cut out for me.”

“Deb.” The warning note in Jill's voice was clear. “He seems like a very private person. Don't push.”

“When have I ever pushed?” Deb gave her an innocent look.

“Deb.”

“Okay, okay, I promise to behave. Or at least try to behave.”

That was as good as she was going to get, and Jill knew it.

Unfortunately, it left plenty of wiggle room.

 

“So what brought you to Orcas Island, Keith?”

Jill kicked Deb under the table. They'd only been eating a few minutes, and already her sister was edging into private territory. Deb ignored her, keeping her attention fixed on Keith as she smoothed one stray strand of her perfectly coiffed hair.

“Would you like some more lemonade, Keith?” Jill offered.

“Yes. Thanks.”

As she picked up the pitcher, Jill suspected that Keith was already sorry he'd agreed to have lunch with them. Since the two of them had reached their barter agreement, they'd been sharing a hot lunch every day. But he'd insisted that they suspend that arrangement during Deb's visit, claiming he didn't want to intrude on family time. However, when Deb found out about it, she'd put her foot down, saying she didn't want anyone to alter their routine because she and Dominic were visiting. After Keith had continued to demur, she'd threatened to go into town for meals. In the end, he'd capitulated. A decision he was now regretting, Jill suspected.

When she finished pouring the lemonade, Jill was tempted to “spill” some on her sister's fashionable capri pants and matching top. Enough that she'd have to excuse herself to clean up. Of course, that wouldn't be nice. But it would get her off Keith's back for a few minutes. Her hand hovered for a brief second—long enough for Deb to shoot her a suspicious look. In the end, Jill returned the pitcher to its spot on the table, relying on prayer to keep her sister in check.

Too bad God wasn't listening.

“We were talking about your visit here, Keith,” Deb prompted.

“I've been doing some traveling, and this area sounded interesting.”

“Where's your home base?”

Keith hesitated, causing Jill to wonder if he was just reluctant to share that information—or if he didn't have one. “I left on my travels from Missouri.”

“Well, isn't that a coincidence! Jill lived in Kansas before she came out here. You were almost neighbors.”

“Have some turkey, Deb.” Jill shoved the platter at her.

“I think I will.” She helped herself, looking at the food instead of her sister. “I always eat way too much when I come out here. Jill's such a good cook. I used to tell her she should open a restaurant. But she loved being an art teacher. Besides, those hours were hard enough to manage with a family, let alone trying to run a restaurant. Do you have a family, Keith?”

The volleys were coming so fast Keith was having difficulty keeping up. Not just because he was dodging the questions, but because he was also trying to assimilate the new information he was getting about Jill. He'd known she was a widow, but he'd known nothing of a family—as in children. The news startled him, and he shifted his attention to her even as he tried to frame a response to Deb's question. Her gaze met his, and he saw apology in her eyes. He wished he could assure her that her sister's queries didn't bother him, but that would be a lie. Still, if the reward for revealing a little about himself was additional background on Jill, he considered it a fair trade.

“No. My wife died a couple of years ago, and we didn't have children.”

As Jill tried to process that bombshell, compassion softened Deb's features. “I'm so sorry.”