Restorations (Book One Oregon In Love) (2 page)

“Hey, the tenant is here. I’m going to
introduce myself,” she said, turning to make sure her aunt heard
her. She saw Hattie clasp her hands together as if in prayer.
Shrugging, Sara headed for the cottage.

The structure appeared to be in immaculate
condition. The roof looked new, the paint, fresh and the windows
sparkled in the early evening sun. She was relieved the tenant
obviously didn’t plan to trash the place.

Reaching the door, Sara took a deep breath
before raising her hand to knock. She didn’t come to have a
confrontation. She planned to simply introduce herself as the first
step in a friendly eviction process. Baring her teeth in an attempt
at a social smile, she knocked on the door.

A bird wheeled overhead. Somewhere, a dog
barked. Sara’s smile faltered. A quick look at the blue truck in
the driveway verified someone was here. She did a double take. Why
did that truck seem so familiar? She heard sounds from inside the
cottage. Her gaze swiveled back to the door.

Resisting the urge to peer in the windows,
she squared her shoulders and waited with a feeling of expectation.
Somebody groaned loudly, and she heard several bumps and thumps.
And then the door swung open.

Sara stared at the figure in the doorway.
Brian Farris stared right back.

Chapter Two

Sara clenched her fists into tight little
balls, going hot and cold by turns. She opened her mouth to speak,
but before a sound came out, Brian lurched toward her and grabbed
her arms. Shocked, she tried to fight back, but then his knees
buckled. Sara lost her balance under his weight. They ended up in
an undignified heap in the middle of the driveway.

Too stunned to move, Sara
remained motionless as Brian clambered to his feet. He held out a
hand to her. She slapped it away and scrambled upright, glaring at
him in mounting fury. “
What are you doing
here?
”

Brian bent over and put his hands on his
knees, taking deep breaths. He glanced up and grinned. “Sorry about
that. I was a little dizzy.”

Before Sara could respond, Hattie rushed up
behind her.

“Oh, poor Mr. Farris! How could you,
Sara?”

Panting from shock and exertion, with a
painful throbbing on her backside from where she fell, Sara
resisted the urge to scream. “Good grief, Hattie, I didn’t say a
word. He said he was...dizzy!” She raked her gaze over Brian,
unable to believe her eyes. “Was that you I saw in town
earlier?”

He nodded, and for the first time, Sara
noticed his haggard appearance. Distinct shadows circled his eyes
and his hair spiked all over his head. Several days beard growth
dusted his chin. He was either a rock star wannabe or just plain
ill.

“I was at the drug store getting some
medicine.”

Hattie put her hand on his arm. “You don’t
look so good. You need to get into bed.”

Her aunt led him back into
the cottage. Sara watched them go.
Brian
. Here in Buell Creek. Could it
be possible? Her heart wrenched at the sight of him. She swallowed,
struggling to rein in her confused emotions. After a moment, she
entered the cottage.

Hattie met her in the kitchen. “Sara, go get
my medical bag from the car, please. Mr. Farris is not well.”

Too dazed to do anything other than obey,
she hurried to the Corolla and grabbed the bag. Back inside the
cottage, she tripped over a chair leg in her haste and shoved the
bag at Hattie. Releasing an unsteady breath, she willed herself to
calm down and followed her aunt into the bedroom. Brian lay
stretched out on top of the blankets.

She watched her aunt smile and begin to ply
him with all manner of health-related questions. Sara only half
heard his replies, wondering why her aunt seemed unsurprised at his
appearance in her grandfather’s cottage.

Hattie rummaged through her medical bag,
bringing out her stethoscope and a thermometer. She spent several
minutes taking his temperature and listening to his lungs. If Brian
was aware of Sara’s presence, he gave no indication of it.

Her aunt pulled the stethoscope from her
ears. “Well, young man, your lungs are clear and your heartbeat is
strong although you do have a high fever. The flu’s been going
around like wildfire and you look to be the latest victim.” She
packed her things away. “But the fact that you almost fainted
concerns me.”

“Just a bit lightheaded,” Brian corrected
sleepily. “I stood up too fast to answer the door, that’s all.”

Hattie smiled. “You need to eat some simple
foods to keep up your strength, and you must drink lots of fluids.
You’re somewhat dehydrated, and I’m wondering if you’d be better
off in the hospital.”

He struggled to sit up, sputtering in
protest.

She held up a hand. “If you can promise me
you’ll drink lots of water and juice over the next several hours, I
might feel more comfortable about leaving you here.”

“I promise,” he said solemnly.

Sara, still inwardly fuming, caught a
significant look from her aunt.

“Dear, can I speak to you outside for a
moment?”

Avoiding eye contact with Brian, she
followed the woman outside, closing the door firmly behind her. She
stomped to a stop in front of her aunt. “Out with it, Hattie!”

“Well, I—”

“You knew all along who was living here, and
that’s why you tried to keep me away! Not to mention the fact that
you also seem to be on awfully good terms with him. Hattie, how
could you?”

“We’re just acquaintances, really.”

“Answer the question!”

Her aunt shifted from foot to foot. “I, um,
knew how much it would upset you, and while you’re still dealing
with the death of your grandfather, I felt I should wait to tell
you.”

Sara regarded her aunt steadily while
rubbing the sore spot on her posterior.

“Do you blame me?” Hattie continued. “If
poor Mr. Farris was well, you would’ve certainly given him a piece
of your mind. When he went down like that I thought...”

She gave her aunt a
lowering look. “I have yet to fell a man with my words, Hattie. But
you still haven’t answered me as to why that
person
is here!”

“Were you injured, dear?”

Sara yanked her hand back around and shoved
it into the front pocket of her dress. “I’m waiting for an
explanation.”

“I need to ask you something,” Hattie said,
blatantly ignoring her request. “I would feel better if Mr. Farris
had someone to keep an eye on him this evening, and you know I need
to go in tonight to work.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s nearly
time for me to leave. Do me a favor and sit with Brian for the
night.”

Sara shook her head in baffled shock. What
was the woman thinking? Her first impulse told her to refuse
outright. But a part of her—a very small part—worried about Brian’s
health. She also had to admit to a morbid desire to speak to him.
She’d mentally rehearsed telling him off so many times, she knew
the speech by heart. And here was her opportunity.

Hattie’s voice pulled Sara back to the
present. “I wouldn’t ask this of you unless I was really concerned,
and I assure you, he’s quite ill. If he takes a turn for the worse,
someone should be there to make sure he gets prompt medical
attention.”

The pleading expression on her face swayed
her. Sara frowned, wishing she’d heeded her aunt’s advice and
stayed away from the farmhouse. “Okay, I’ll stay,” she said, unable
to keep her displeasure from her voice.

“I know it’s asking an awful lot, what with
your history with him and all.”

Sara stifled a hysterical laugh. Her aunt
didn’t know the half of it. “I’ll manage.”

Hattie checked her watch again. “I’ll run to
the store and pick up a few things for Mr. Farris and be back in a
bit.”

Sara slowly released a
pent-up breath after her aunt bustled to the car and drove away. A
doozy of a headache formed at the base of her skull, whether from
the jarring fall or her predicament, she wasn’t sure. Before her
thoughts and feelings became more complicated, she decided to
concentrate on how to care for the patient.
Patient
was a good word.
Keep it impersonal
.

Back inside Brian’s bedroom, Sara relaxed
incrementally when she found him asleep. Heart pounding hard, she
leaned over his form to make sure he was breathing. Then she went
into the tiny bathroom and located a bottle of Tylenol in the
medicine cabinet. Shaking out a few pills into her hand and filling
a glass with water, she went back to the side of his bed.

She looked down at him and tried to sort out
her thoughts. Her angst drained away at the sight of his vulnerable
state. With a trembling hand, she brushed back his sweat-soaked
hair, noting the dark flush on his cheeks. His skin burned against
her fingers.

A suffocating feeling of
discontent washed over her. The last two years seemed to melt away
and all the old attraction mixed with anguish came rushing
back.
Oh, Brian, what are you doing
here?

Chastising herself for such thoughts, she
briskly shook his shoulder until his eyes cracked open. “Sit up,
Brian. You need to take some medicine and drink some water.”

Miraculously, he obeyed, easing onto one
elbow to take the glass of water. After swallowing the pills, he
lay heavily back against the pillows. Sara flinched when a spasm of
coughing gripped him. She reached out and awkwardly patted him on
the back.

Without warning, Brian grabbed her wrist in
a hot grip. “Are you here to bathe the fevered brow, Sara?”

She froze, surprised at his strength. The
moment he relaxed his fingers, she snatched her hand away. Rubbing
her wrist, she decided to wait until he was better before letting
loose with her memorized lecture. Until then, she’d show him
unmerited mercy.

Keeping her gaze lowered, Sara tried to
think of what to do next. His words gave her an idea. She went back
into the bathroom and found clean washcloths. After soaking one in
cool water and wringing it out, she sat down by his side and
attempted to lay it on his forehead. The washcloth slipped from her
nerveless fingers and landed in his face. Mumbling a mortified
apology, she plucked it off and carefully placed it on his
forehead.

Her face flaming when she caught him looking
at her. His eyes glittered feverishly in the low light of the room,
but he appeared to be otherwise cognizant.

“What are you doing here?” she blurted.

Brian watched her with an unblinking stare.
“I live here.”

“You’re being deliberately obtuse.”

“I’m sick, remember?” He yawned. “But now my
worries are over.”

Sara narrowed her eyes. “What does that
mean?”

“I prayed for help and now you’re here.”

A stinging remark rose to her lips. She
stifled it despite the fact that Brian and prayer did not belong in
the same sentence. “Well, since I’m here, I’ll do what I can to
help you recover.”

Brian smiled drowsily. “So you do still care
for me.”

Ouch
. Sara decided the jabbing pain in her chest must be due to a
touch of indigestion. She firmed her lips. “Actually, the sooner
you improve, the sooner you move out.”

Another spasm of coughing took hold of him,
but she ignored his pitiful appeal.

He heaved a great sigh and closed his eyes.
Sara watched him warily, sure any moment he’d open his eyes and
make a teasing comment. But he remained still, apparently back to
sleep from exhaustion.

When sure he rested
peacefully, Sara stood up and paced around the room. Now that the
shock had worn off, she questioned how she'd landed in this mess.
She wrapped her arms around her waist, wondering what could
possibly
be taking Hattie
so long. Sara jumped at the sound of a creak before realizing it
came from the wood floor she walked on. She cast her gaze toward
the bed. Even in repose, Brian’s personality seemed to reach out to
her, seeking a weakness to exploit.

Or was it just her
imagination? He was only a man after all, and right now, weak as a
kitten. What could Brian Farris do to her?
Nothing
, she determined grimly.
Nothing at all
.

A few minutes later, her aunt arrived and
emptied a sack of canned soups, frozen juice, and other
over-the-counter medicinal items onto the kitchen table. “I didn’t
know what he’d have on hand.”

“Thanks, Hattie,” Sara said, glad she was no
longer alone with her disturbing thoughts.

Smiling in her comforting way, her aunt went
into the bedroom. Sara followed, feeling ill at ease about
strolling around in Brian’s living quarters. “I gave him some
Tylenol to bring down the fever.”

“Good, good. Sounds like you have everything
under control then.”

She smiled wryly. “That’s an understatement,
and you know it.”

Hattie took her hand and gave it a squeeze.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him sooner. I really was trying
to figure out the best way.”

Sara shrugged, her gaze
darting toward the bed. “But why is he here? Why in Grandpa’s
cottage in
this
town?”

Hattie tucked a strand of hair back into
place. “About all I know is that Eli ran into Brian, who showed up
here looking for work. Brian is a construction contractor, you may
remember. Anyway, Eli had several projects around the house and so
he hired him. Apparently, Mr. Farris had no place to stay so Eli
rented out the cottage to him as well.” She smiled. “He and your
grandfather became very good friends, you know.”

And you did,
too
. Sara passed her hand wearily in front
of her eyes, ignoring the feeling of betrayal rippling through her
at the thought. “Well, he’s here and now I’m here. My goal is to
get him better so he can get out as soon as possible. Whatever he
had planned with my grandfather is nothing to me. And if Brian
causes any fuss, I’ll have him legally evicted.”