A Bridge Unbroken (A Miller's Creek Novel) (21 page)

Yeah, well, it was help she couldn't give. If the truth be known, she'd love to be completely upfront and honest with him, but she knew beyond a doubt that it would only drive him away in the end, leaving her without a place to live, without the resources to relocate, and with a Texas-sized hole in her heart. No, that was a risk she just couldn't take. At least not yet. Not until after she'd exhausted every option. She walked beside him in silence, refusing to respond.

"What's wrong? You afraid something from your past is so bad I couldn't accept it?"

How did he do that? How could he guess so accurately? "What do you think I've done, Chance? Imagine the worst."

"Drugs and alcohol?"

"Done it."

"Lived with someone without being married?"

"That, too."

He grew quiet and pensive. "I can get past both those things."

They reached the bridge, its bleached boards leaning and covered with debris from the recent flood. A very muddy Miller's Creek rushed just a few inches below. Sudden tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back and stared into the muddy depths of the creek. There was no going back, no fixing what had been broken. There was no use in even trying, the water too deep and murky and the trip too dangerous.

She faced him. "Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe I can't get past it? That maybe I don't ever want to go there again?"

His blue-gray eyes challenged her, but she refused to look away. Somehow she had to get the message across to him. Finally he lowered his head. "Okay, but before we go back, do you mind if I pray?"

Her mouth sagged open. He wasn't backing down, just momentarily retreating, and calling prayer into the process. She somehow managed to nod.

* * *

Man, how could he find the words to pray with his heart ripped to shreds and bleeding? Chance filled his lungs with the fresh air, immediately comforted. "Lord Jesus, thank You for loving us and for Your forgiveness. Help me move past my fears, bitterness, and judgmental attitudes. I also pray that You'll help Dakota as she tries to deal with her own stuff from the past. Show me how I can help her. Help us find a way to move on from here and finish the work You've given us to do. We ask this all in Jesus' name, Amen."

Big crocodile tears pooled in Dakota's eyes as she stared at the bridge.

His heart picked up its pace. Was he somehow getting through to her? Was God? Instinctively he pulled her into his arms and hugged her close.

Her tears multiplied, but he didn't try to stop them. She'd never been one for displays of emotion, had always been one who refused to cry. Memories pulled him to the day she'd sliced her hand open on a piece of flashing. Tears had glistened that day, but she'd practically bitten a hole through her bottom lip to keep them from coursing down her cheeks. Maybe a good cry was exactly what she needed.

Finally she pulled away and immediately turned her back to him, wiping tears away.

This was twice in three days for her. Progress.

When she faced him again, her walls were up, just as he'd expected. "So about the bridge. Do you think it's worth repairing?"

With weathered boards and a leaning structure, it would require time, materials, and effort. "Definitely." He took hold of her chin and turned her face toward him. "What about you? You think it's worth the effort?"

She pulled away from his touch. "Not sure actually. It's not like we use it that often anyway. Not sure it's worth the cost involved." Dakota peered over the side at the deep water. "Or the risk."

"The water won't always be so deep and fast."

"Yeah, but the distance to the bottom is the same. And it's a lot of hard work. Maybe we should just concentrate on getting the house finished."

A smile worked onto his face. Her and her tendency toward fear and running away. "The house will get finished, Dakota. I know it might not seem like it right now, but it will. And we'll have time to rebuild the bridge, too. Besides part of Grampa's request was making the property viable as a farm, remember?"

She nodded reluctantly, but didn't speak.

"So what do you think? Can we continue to work together?"

Her green eyes held doubt. "I want us to, but I can't offer you anything but friendship."

He studied her face, committing its every detail to memory. Her perfect nose with just a small sprinkling of freckles. Her pointy chin. Her soulful eyes. Friendship was enough, at least for now. The only way he could get her to open up to him was spend time with her. The only way he could spend time with her was working on the farm and house. Rebuilding the bridge was just a way of extending that time, another opportunity for coaxing her into giving him a second chance. "I can accept that."

She nodded, her chin lifted higher than normal. "I guess it won't hurt to rebuild this old bridge then."

A ray of sun beamed between two trees, sending a shaft of light to rest on them. Chance smiled, his gaze focused on Dakota as she inspected the old bridge. No, it wouldn't hurt a thing to rebuild the bridge.

Chapter Nineteen

D
akota's heart rose to her throat as she stared down at the fresh footprints. Not again. She knelt to examine the prints more closely, and her gaze followed them until they disappeared into the grass. Definitely a man's shoe, most likely left overnight. The thought only served to make her heart race faster. Who'd been so close in the middle of the night without her knowing?

Her mind immediately jumped to Kane.

She pulled herself to a standing position and peered around the area. No other evidence she could see. Of course, whoever had left the prints could still be hiding in the vicinity, watching her every move.

Fear clawed its way to her brain. She hurried into the house and locked the deadbolt, then leaned against the door.

Daisy moved to her feet and sat, her head cocked to one side, questioning.

Dakota reached down to pet her friend. Never would she have believed she'd grow to love Daisy so much since Chance dropped her off for protection. "No more going outside without you, Daisy." So much for crossing the paint-scraping off her to-do list. And such a pretty day, too.

She moved to the list on the table to see what other chore she could tackle. Hmm, maybe finish the kitchen. Chance had helped install the cabinets last week, and the countertops would hopefully be in before Thanksgiving. All that left was painting and installing the backsplash and flooring, all materials she already had on hand. That should keep her busy.

Within a few minutes, she'd gathered her tiling supplies--trowel, mastic, grout, and sponge--and set to work, her mind on Chance as usual. Last week he'd kept to his promise of keeping their relationship strictly platonic. Instead, her own thoughts and emotions had betrayed her as she imagined a lifetime with him. How much longer could she withstand the temptation to let him in completely, sharing even her darkest secret?

Beside her, Daisy thumped her tail against the floor.

"No. I just can't do it." But at what cost?

Daisy's tail stopped wagging and a frown creased the space between her pointy ears.

"It's okay, girl. I just have to remember that things will work out the way they're supposed to." She returned to her work with added fervor and by noon used up her last tile. One corner of her mouth turned downward. How had she miscalculated so badly? It would take at least one more box of the pale blue glass subway tiles to finish the job.

She moved to the sink to clean her sponge and trowel. "Guess this means a trip to town." Daisy, who'd been lying in her usual C position, roused to a sitting position as if she understood.

Dakota laughed. "Yeah, you can go too, but let me get us both some lunch first."

After she fed the dog and downed a cold slice of pizza, Dakota put Daisy on her leash and flipped off the kitchen switch as she passed. Pop! The sound crackled from the ceiling, followed by the distinct smell of smoke. Okay, not good. She grabbed her cell phone to call Chance.

He picked up on the first ring. "Hey, Dakota. Everything okay?"

"Not exactly. I just cut off the kitchen light and something popped. It smells kind of smoky now." She flipped the switch to on position. Nothing. "And when I flip the switch on, nothing happens."

"First things first. Go outside and wait while I call the fire department. I'll call you back in a sec."

Uh, based on the footprints she'd seen this morning she might not be so safe outside, but she couldn't tell Chance. Already he worried about her far too much. "Okay." She led Daisy outdoors, her brain churning for a way to continue to work on the house. Maybe she could hold the leash with one hand and scrape paint with the other. If there were anyone outside watching her, surely they wouldn't attack as long as she had a German Shepherd in tow.

An uneasy feeling churned in her stomach, as though someone watched her every move. She peered around, but saw nothing.
Shake it off, Dakota. You're just being paranoid.
With a shake of her head, Dakota made her way to the oversized tool box Chance had left in the barn and dug through the contents. Strange. There'd been a paint scraper in the old red metal box that once belonged to J.C. just yesterday, but now it was nowhere to be found.

Her phone rang. Chance. "Hey."

"Fire department's on the way. You outside?"

"Yep, I'm being a good girl. But don't you think I should go inside, so if a fire does start, I can at least try to put it ou--"

"No!" His voice exploded through the phone. "Do not go back in that house. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Sorry." He controlled his voice this time. "Didn't mean to bark orders."

Dakota stared down at the tool box. "While I've got you on the phone, wasn't there a paint scraper in J.C.'s tool box?"

"Yeah, I knew we'd need it when we tackled the outside of the house."

"Well, it's not there now." Where could it be?

"Hmm. Listen, I gotta run, but call me after they've been there and checked everything out. Okay?"

"Okay."

Without bothering to say goodbye, she closed the phone and made a mental note to pick up a paint scraper in town. "C'mon, Daisy, let's go wait for the fire truck."

A few minutes later the fire trucks approached, their sirens sounding for miles down the road. Daisy's ears pricked up, and she barked and howled.

"It's okay, girl. They're friendlies." Dakota moved out to meet them as the large red truck careened around the corner and came to an abrupt halt.

Matt Tyler was the first one out of the truck. He strode toward her, his face awash with concern. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, but what are you doing here?"

"Just another hat I wear. Volunteer fireman. What happened?"

Dakota repeated the story again, then stood back while several men scurried to the house arrayed in full gear. A few minutes later they returned, and Matt, a good-natured grin on his face, stepped toward her and Daisy. He reached down to scratch Daisy's ears and peered up at Dakota. "Nothing to worry about. No fire detected. But you need to call an electrician. Based on what we just saw, this house is dangerous with the current wiring. A fire waiting to happen."

Alarms went off in her head. Chance would throw a conniption fit at the added cost. "Will do, Matt. Thanks."

"No problemo. See you around." He waved back at her as he moved to join the other guys as they loaded into the truck.

Dakota stepped toward the house, Daisy right behind. Before she called Chance, she'd phone the electrician to get a price. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.

The phone call to Mr. Downey took just a few minutes, but Dakota hung up the phone with her mind spinning. Five thousand dollars. At this rate, she'd never be able to pay Chance back and have enough money to start over somewhere else. In addition the electrician indicated the work would take at least a week. A week of having someone else under her feet all day?

She pulled up Chance's number on her cell phone.

"What'd they find?" No hello, just straight to the matter as hand. Typical mode of operation for Chance.

"No fire." She gritted her teeth to garner the courage to tell him the bad news.

"I hear a 'but' in your voice. What else?"

She swallowed hard. "Um, the whole house needs to be rewired. Matt said it was a fire waiting to happen."

"Okay. When you hang up, call Mr. Downey and get him out there ASAP. I'll call around and see if I can find you somewhere else to stay."

"First of all, I already called Downey. It's gonna be around five thousand dollars and a week to get it fixed."

"So? What's your point?"

Her eyebrows raised. She had certainly missed the mark with guessing his response.

"Are you sure we can afford that?"

He sighed. "We don't have a choice. Yeah, it's an added cost we hadn't counted on, but we'll just have to cut back somewhere else. I won't have you staying in a house that's unsafe."

Her heart melted at his concern, and she closed her eyes against the ensuing pain. All his thoughts were for her and her safety. If only she could reciprocate. She could, but only by leaving Miller's Creek so he could get on with his life.