Restoring His Heart Page 2

  Adam was beginning to wish they’d locked him up in a nice safe cell with ordinary criminals. He was used to dealing with people who wanted something from him. But this was different. He didn’t like being off balance, and this situation had him teetering like a tightrope walker over a canyon.

  “Well, you’ll be going to work soon, so we’d better get you settled in.”

  Adam followed Tom Durrant through the large home. And it was a home. A place where people lived. Signs of life were on display everywhere. Magnets held scribbled drawings on the refrigerator door. An open book lay upside down on an end table. A sweater draped over a chair. The furniture was traditional and tasteful, but comfortably used. A pile of magazines lay on the stairs as if waiting to be taken up. Family photos covered the wall along the stairway. Too many for him to process as they passed by. He’d never seen pictures displayed like this. The only picture in his home growing up was the portrait of his mother in her favorite ball gown which hung over the fireplace in the main salon.

  Upstairs, Tom Durrant led him to a room at the far end of the hall. Adam stepped inside, his attention falling on the items on the bed. “My bags.” He walked to the bed, quickly sliding open the zipper on the small case. The sight of his personal items filled him with a rush of comfort.

  “They sent your things over this morning. I knew you’d need some different clothes to work in. Carpentry is dirty work.” He walked across the room and opened another door, flipping on the switch to reveal a private bathroom. “I think you’ll find everything you need. If not, just ask and we’ll see what we can do.” He smiled again. “Within reason of course.”

  A sudden lump of gratitude rose in Adam’s chest. While he still harbored serious doubts about this arrangement, at least he’d have a place to retreat to each night, a place to be alone. And alone was where he was most comfortable. “Thanks. This will be fine.”

  “Daddy!”

  Adam turned at the sound of the female voice.

  “Up here, Boo.”

  Adam waited as the sound of pounding footsteps rumbled on the steps and along the hall. From the noise being made, he expected someone large and sturdy to appear in the doorway. He wasn’t prepared for the woman who stepped into the room.

  “Hey, Daddy.”

  She was short, five foot four tops. At first glance he thought she was a teenager, but on closer inspection he realized she was probably not much younger than himself. Perhaps thirty-one or thirty-two.

  “You’re putting him in Matt’s room? I thought you’d put him in the spare room over the garage.”

  Tom Durrant shook his head. “Too isolated up there. I thought it would be better if he was close by.”

  Adam didn’t like the sound of that. Was Mr. Durrant going to monitor him every moment?

  “Mr. Holbrook, this is my daughter, Laura Durrant.”

  She made no move to shake his hand, so he merely nodded. From the scowl on her face, he had a feeling she was not going to be one of his fans. She turned to look at her father and Adam felt a small skip in his heartbeat when her features suddenly changed from disapproving to near worshipful. The love in her eyes for her father gave her a glow.

  “We need to get going. How soon will he be ready?”

  “Ask him.”

  She turned and glared, the loveliness on her face gone. “I assume you have something else to wear other than a tuxedo? We’ll be doing real work today, Mr. Holbrook. This won’t be a party.”

  Her attitude irked him. He started to say something smart, but remembered Mr. Durrant’s request for respect. Something she’d said suddenly clicked into place. “We?”

  Laura Durrant placed her hands on her hips and took a step toward him. “We. You’ll be under my supervision for the duration of your sentence. I’ll be showing you how to rebuild what you destroyed, and I want to get started today if that’s all right with you.”

  Adam looked over her head to her father. There was a knowing and sympathetic smile on his face. He shrugged.

  “My daughter is a skilled carpenter and contractor. Trust me, she knows her stuff.” He took his daughter’s arm and tugged her along with him out of the room. “We’ll leave you alone to get ready. Don’t take too long. She gets cranky when she has to wait.”

  “Dad.”

  The door shut behind them, but not before Adam heard Tom Durrant gently scold “Boo” for her attitude.

  Adam dragged a hand across his face. Surely this had to be some kind of bizarre parallel universe. No way could he take orders from that little slip of a thing. He had to find a way out of this mess. And fast.

  *

  Laura followed her father downstairs to the kitchen. “He’d better not take all day primping. I want to get started on that gazebo today. I’ve got too many other things I need to take care of.” Her dad pointed to a kitchen chair.

  “Sit. I’m sure he’ll be down directly. How’s the Mobile situation?”

  Laura sat down, resting her head dejectedly on one palm. Her last restoration project had been in Mobile, Alabama, on a historic downtown building. Unfortunately, the owner had suddenly declared bankruptcy and everything was on hold. Including her pay. “Awful. The lawyers are going to draw this thing out as long as possible so they don’t have to pay up.”

  “What does your attorney say?”

  “He’s doing all he can, but you know the court system works like molasses.” She exhaled and leaned back in her chair. “I never would have taken that job if I’d known the company would go belly-up a week after I completed the work.”

  Her dad chuckled. “We all wish we had a crystal ball to see into the future, but that’s not how the good Lord set things up. We’re supposed to rely on Him, not ourselves. You upheld your part of the deal. That’s all you can do.”

  “I know, but in the meantime, I have payroll to meet. That job was going to give me enough financial security to breathe easy for the next year. And then there’s the Keller building.” She looked over at her father, wishing he could make it all better the way he had when she was small. But at thirty-two, her troubles were her own to battle.

  Her dad laid his hand on top of hers. “I wish I could help you somehow. Your mom and I have been talking to everyone we know looking for people who would be interested in stepping up to save the old place, but no luck.”

  “I know. Money is tight everywhere. I don’t blame anyone, but it’s so frustrating. If I could only have convinced Mr. Keller to sell me the building or get it listed on the Historic Registry before he died. Now it’s going up for auction in a few weeks and I’ve run out of options. Buying it myself was the only one left and now that’s off the table, too. Without the profits from the Mobile job I can’t afford to even bid on it.”

  The old three-story building at the corner of Main and Peace streets downtown would make a perfect senior center once it was restored. Something she’d wanted to do for a long time. The center would provide a safe place for seniors to meet and do their crafts. It would also be a place where they could teach others the numerous skills they possessed. Crocheting. Knitting. Tole painting. Sewing. Quilting. She hated seeing the old building falling apart when it could be brought to life again and made useful. It was structurally sound and perfectly located. All it needed was some work. Okay, a lot of work, but work she was more than willing to do.

  Laura stood and walked to the door leading to the hallway. “What’s taking him so long?”

  “Give him time, Boo. He’ll be down soon enough.”

  “And that’s another thing. I’ve got the Conrad job going on. My foreman keeps running into problems every time we open a wall or rip up a floorboard. I don’t have time to spend repairing what this poor little rich boy did. And there’s only a few weeks to restore the gazebo in time for the Founder’s Day Festival. That doesn’t give me much leeway for finding materials. Dealing with him will double the time needed to make repairs. Not to mention the mistakes that will have to be undone and the wasted lumber from in
correct measurements.”

  “I can speak to your uncle Hank. He could find someone else to restore the gazebo,” her father said.

  Laura whirled around. “No, I want to do it. I just wish I had someone competent to help me. Not an amateur.” She puffed out her irritation and paced the room.

  “Maybe he’ll surprise you and be a quick study, or maybe he already has a few skills that will be helpful.” Her dad came and gave her a hug. “It’ll all work out, Boo. Have a little faith.”

  Laura smiled at her dad. She hoped he was right this time. “So, what do you think of him?”

  “Hard to say. I’ve only spoken to him briefly. I think he’s unhappy with his situation, but that’s understandable. He reminds me of your brother Ty. As I recall, you had no trouble keeping him in line.”

  She smiled. “So you’re saying I can take him?”

  “No doubt, but don’t get carried away. Something tells me this man has a thick wall of protection around him. With Ty you always knew where he stood. He didn’t keep his feelings hidden. I suspect Adam has kept his feelings buried most of his life. Don’t be too hard on him.” He turned and picked up his cell phone and slipped it in his pocket. “Time to get to the store. Your mother will be wondering where I am.”

  “You’re leaving me here alone with this stranger?”

  “I don’t think you’re in any danger. That’s one of the reasons your mom and I agreed to let him stay here. I wanted to make sure he understood that you’re my baby girl and he’d better watch his p’s and q’s.” He chuckled and started for the door. “Maybe I should have warned him about you. You’re tougher than both your brothers put together.”

  Laura waved goodbye to her dad, then checked her watch again. She’d lost nearly half an hour waiting for Mr. Rich Adventurer. If he wasn’t down in ten minutes, she’d go in and drag his spoiled self out by the scruff of his neck.

  She had to admit, she’d been surprised at her first glimpse of him. She tried to ignore the way his startling green eyes had made a swift but thorough assessment of her. Doubtful she could compare with the kind of women he was used to. And she felt sure he was used to taking his pick of leggy beauties.

  She couldn’t blame her fellow females for falling for this guy. He had all the right stuff on the outside. His six-foot frame and thick light brown hair made him boyishly handsome.

  But she preferred a man of faith. A man with character in his face and compassion in his heart.

  Heavy footsteps on the stairs let her know Holbrook was finally ready. He stepped through the kitchen door and stopped, his green gaze slamming into hers. Her throat closed up and her heart skipped a couple beats. A short while ago he’d resembled James Bond fresh from saving the world. Now, he stood in the kitchen looking ready for a photo shoot for a Rugged Men of the South calendar. The gray knit Henley shirt hugged his chest and broad shoulders like an old friend and brought out the vibrant green of his eyes. The jeans called attention to his narrow waist and long powerful legs. A pair of well-worn dark boots anchored him to the floor. Apparently, adventurers needed sturdy footwear in their wardrobes.

  She shook her head, trying to regain her composure. “If you’re ready, we need to get going.”

  There was a half smile on his face. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Laura pushed through the back door and headed for her red truck. “I hope you’re ready to work because we have a lot to do and very little time to get it done.”

  Chapter Two

  Adam followed Laura Durrant to her truck and climbed in, wondering how so small a woman could command such authority. Her no-nonsense attitude was intriguing and a bit intimidating. He’d decided to be a good scout, do what he was told and get the lay of the land. Eventually he’d find a loophole, some way to get out of Dover and back to Atlanta on time. Of course there was always his last resort—calling one of his dad’s lawyers. He didn’t want to think about the repercussions of that.

  He glanced over at Laura Durrant. Her slender figure was obscured by stained and faded jeans, ending in heavy brown work boots. That explained the loud thumping on the stairs. Her purple T-shirt was worn and faded, with a quarter-sized hole in one sleeve. Her head was covered with a ball cap and spikes of hair stuck out from the adjustment opening in the back and the edges over her ears. He guessed at its color. Dishwater blond? What stood out the most were her violet blue eyes. Eyes that were staring at him with disdain. She looked small behind the wheel of the big truck but absolutely in control. Which raised a lot of questions. “So, you’re in charge of the work detail, huh?”

  “That’s right. You answer to me.”

  “What do I call you?”

  “You can call me Boss or LC.”

  “I thought your name was Boo.” He saw her scowl at the name.

  “My dad is the only one who calls me that. And my brother Ty sometimes. LC is the name of the company. LC Construction and Restoration.”

  Adam wanted to ask what the initials stood for, but decided it might be safer to wait on that. “So how long do you think this repair job will take? How much damage did I do?”

  She glanced at him briefly, eyes narrowed. “It’s not a repair job, Mr. Holbrook. It’s a restoration and that takes a lot more time.”

  “Restoration. Repair. Same difference, isn’t it?”

  “Not even close. The building you drove your little car into is a National Historic Landmark. Which is why I’m doing the job. If all it needed was repairing, any competent carpenter could do the work in a few days.”

  “And what makes you different?”

  “I’m a certified restorationist.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I’m qualified to restore old homes and buildings to their original state when possible. That’s what I do.”

  “I didn’t know there was such a thing. How did you get to be one?” She exhaled an exasperated sigh as if reluctant to explain.

  “I studied architecture in college, but I found I didn’t like the designing as much as I liked the hands-on ground-level work. When I moved home, I bought this construction company from a local man who was retiring. He did a lot of restoration work, so all I had to do was expand on that customer base.”

  “Still, a girl in construction. Where did that come from?”

  Laura turned and smiled, her expression softening the way it had when she’d looked at her father earlier. Something inside Adam shifted.

  “Oh. My dad owns the hardware store in town. I grew up around nuts and bolts.”

  She turned back to the road ahead. “So how did you come to lose control of your car and ram it into our historic gazebo?”

  For a moment Adam considered avoiding the question, but then he remembered her uncle was the judge and her father his jailer. No point in trying to hide the truth. “I left a friend’s house in Dallas early yesterday morning and planned on spending a few days in New Orleans. You know, eating fine food, listening to good music, maybe do a little deep-sea fishing. I got hungry, saw a billboard for some mom-and-pop diner in Sawyers Bend—”

  “Jingles.”

  “What?”

  “The name of the diner is Jingles.”

  “Right. Well, somehow I missed the turnoff and ended up in your fair community. I was trying to find a way back to the interstate on my smartphone and the rest you know.”

  “You didn’t have GPS in that fancy car of yours?”

  “No, it’s a vintage machine. I was going to have it installed after my meeting in Atlanta.”

  Laura Durrant pulled the truck to a stop along the fence line near the gazebo. “Too bad you didn’t have that done before you left Dallas. Might have saved everyone a lot of trouble.”

  Adam scanned the area. Yellow police tape marked the site. His car had been removed and he could clearly see the gaping hole in the side of the little building. He climbed out of the cab and joined the boss lady at the back of her truck. “Where do you suppose my car is?”

  “I have no idea.
Impound probably. You won’t be needing it for a while.”

  “No, but I’d like to see about having it repaired. I’ll have to leave here eventually.” He took the hard hat and work gloves she handed him. He tucked the gloves in the back pocket of his jeans and tried the hat on for size, pulling it off again and adjusting the band inside.

  LC broke the caution tape and walked toward the damaged section of the gazebo.

  “Should you be crossing that police line?”

  “We’ll put up our own safety fencing.”

  Up close, Adam was surprised to find the gazebo larger than he’d expected. He figured it was about twenty-four feet across. He also had a clearer picture of the damage he’d caused and he wondered if anything could be salvaged. He saw tire tracks in the dirt where he’d tried to stop, and pieces of glass were scattered around the ground from his broken windshield. A gaping hole in the brick foundation of the gazebo marked the spot where his car had come to rest. He looked upward at the roof which sagged from the loss of several broken support beams. The cupola on top tilted at a precarious angle and the decorative spindles were little more than kindling.

  He glanced over at Laura, stunned to see a deep sadness in her eyes. For a moment he thought she might burst into tears. Did the old gazebo mean that much to her? He didn’t understand. It was just a small building in the center of the town.

  But the sadness in her eyes made him so uncomfortable that he looked away, scanning the area. Surely the workers would show up anytime now. He was anxious to meet the real carpenters. She may own the construction company, but a woman her size couldn’t lift a can of paint by herself, let alone a two-by-four. He could, however, see her as the boss. With her hardline attitude and biting comments, he doubted any man would dare to cross her. “So when do the others arrive?”

  “What others?”

  “The carpenters and guys with the muscle.”