Hometown Holiday Reunion (6 page)

Chapter Three

S
omeone was going to die.

She'd start with whoever thought it was a good idea to start hammering at—Erin squinted at the clock on her phone—seven on a Wednesday morning. Thankfully, Parker had spent the night at a friend's house and wasn't here to be rudely awakened by the busy beaver hacking away downstairs.

Recognizing that her tattered sweats and “Whatever” T-shirt were hardly the right outfit for this particular confrontation, she yanked an oversize Cincinnati football jersey overtop and stormed down the stairs to restore some peace. Her bare feet stomping down the wooden steps didn't make much of an impact, and by the time she reached the first floor she had a good head of steam going.

Seeing who she had to thank for her early wake-up call didn't help settle her temper even the slightest bit. “Cam!”

Obviously startled, he jerked his head around and stared at her as if she was the last person he'd expected to find there. “Yeah?”

Reminding herself that cluelessness was a dominant male characteristic, she struggled not to scream at him. “Do you know what time it is?”

“About seven. Too early for you?”

“It's Christmas vacation.” He gave her the blankest look she'd ever seen, and she realized that he needed more of an explanation than that. Without caffeine, the best she could dredge up was, “Sleeping in is part of the deal.”

His sheepish expression was completely at odds with the cocky guy she remembered, and in her foggy state she actually thought it made him look cute. “Sorry. I don't have kids, so I didn't get that memo. Want me to come back later?”

“No,” she answered on a yawn. “I'm awake now, and I've got tons to do myself. Want some coffee?”

The offer was clearly a surprise to him, and she had to admit she didn't know where the invitation had come from. She must be more tired than she thought. But it would be rude to extend it and then yank it back, so she tried to look okay with the idea.

“That'd be nice,” he said, grinning over at her. “Can I make a suggestion first?”

“Sure.”

“You might wanna turn your sweatshirt right side out so people can see more than just an outline of the tiger.”

Erin glanced down to discover that she had indeed pulled her outer layer on inside out. Seeing as the rest of her life felt totally discombobulated these days, the mistake fit right in. She set it to rights, then took a moment to check out what he'd been up to. There were a lot of markings on the walls and the scarred wooden floor, measurements for the furnishings they'd briefly discussed yesterday.

Then she saw the gap in the ceiling and the pile of acoustic tiles that had fallen from it. “What happened?”

“I hate these drop ceilings,” he grumbled. “I was poking around with a broom handle to make sure there weren't any soft spots, and that section just about fell on my head. I really think you'd be better off to pull the whole system down and either Sheetrock it or leave the beams exposed.”

Erin craned her neck to get a better look through the hole. “What's up there?”

“The original oak beams, ductwork, stuff like that. These days, lots of folks paint the metalwork and either stain the wood or leave it natural. It's a cool look, and as a bonus it brings a lot more height to the space.”

“Interesting.”

Cam went over to the makeshift workbench he'd made using a wide board resting on two sawhorses. Taking a large set of drawings from the top, he brought them over to her and held them out for her to see. “I found the original plans in the office at the café. Up here—” he pointed “—it looks like they had four windows just a little ways down from where you're living. Back in the day, they probably used it as a storage loft. If the windows are still intact, we can open things up to let in a lot more light.”

“That would be great.” Erin was impressed, not only with his obvious knowledge but with the effort he'd already put into improving the neglected old building. “This is more than construction experience, though. Where did you learn all this design stuff?”

For the first time she was aware of, the arrogant bane of her existence actually looked shy. “I've been taking some building design and historical restoration classes at a college up in St. Paul. I've always loved these old buildings, and I think it'd be cool to have a job bringing them back to the way they used to be.”

“Very cool,” Erin agreed. “And obviously a great use of your talents.”

That got her a very suspicious look. “Did you just say something nice about me?”

“Don't be dense. I did that the other day at least once.”

“Yeah, but I thought that was 'cause you wanted something from me.”

She folded her arms and glared at him. “Do you honestly think that's the only time I can be pleasant?”

“In my experience, that's how women are.”

“Then your experience has been sorely lacking.”

A slow, lazy grin spread across his tanned features. “Y'know, I think maybe you're right.”

“Of course I am,” she retorted, pushing past him to head upstairs. “Now, come up here and help me find my coffeemaker.”

She heard a rumble of laughter behind her. “You mean, Miss Organization lost something in the move?”

A less-than-civil comeback was perched on the tip of her tongue, and it took the rest of her fleeting patience to keep it to herself. When they reached the top of the stairs, he let out a low whistle. “Did a tornado touch down yesterday? It didn't look like this last time I was here.”

“This place is smaller than our old one,” she shot back, glaring at the stacks of boxes she still had to sort through. “I have to find a spot for everything.”

He glanced down the hallway and into Parker's room. “Looks like everything's perfect in there.”

“I started in there,” she explained while she shoved aside unmarked boxes, hunting for one labeled Appliances. She'd packed it first, when she'd been taking her time and arranging their things just so. “He'll be back at lunchtime, and I wanted to make sure his stuff is ready for him when he gets here.”

“Sounds like a mom,” Cam said in a quiet voice that pulled her attention away from her search. She almost fell over when he smiled at her. “When he was checking out my truck, he couldn't tell me enough about how great you are. You're making a huge difference in that kid's life, and under the circumstances, that can't be easy.”

“It's not,” she acknowledged soberly, then felt a little smile creeping in. “Thanks for the compliment.”

“Not a compliment at all,” he corrected her in a firm, matter-of-fact tone. “An observation. Flattery's really not my style anymore. Gets me in too much trouble.”

The unexpected confession made her laugh. “Seriously? And all these years I thought you were the master.”

“Things change,” he said with a frown. “People change.”

Erin honestly had no idea if her old nemesis had changed or not, but she couldn't deny that he'd treated her better than she'd expected. So, in the spirit of détente, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. At least for now.

“I guess you're right about that.” Casting around, her eyes lit on the box she'd foolishly tucked into the corner farthest from the tiny galley kitchen. “Oh, there it is!”

She started pushing her way toward it when he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Just stay there. I'll get it.”

Being a single parent and independent by nature, Erin was used to taking care of everyday things herself. Her large, loving family was a wonderful safety net if she needed them, but she found a lot of satisfaction in fending for herself. As the only Kinley girl, she considered her three overbearing brothers both a blessing and a curse, depending on the day.

When they were growing up, she'd lumped Cam Stewart right in there with them. But now they were business partners, and she had to learn how to work with him. Allowing him to retrieve her gourmet coffeemaker was a small step in that direction, and she congratulated herself on keeping the peace by simply keeping her mouth shut.

“Thank you.” Tearing open the box, she set the gleaming machine on the breakfast bar and in no time the scent of vanilla-and nut-flavored caffeine filled the small living space. She handed a cup to her guest and indulged in a long whiff of her own before taking a sip. “Ahh...that's the stuff.”

“I wouldn't spit it out, that's for sure.”

“Oh, stop it,” she teased in an overdone Southern-honey voice, fanning her face with her hand. “You'll turn my head.”

He laughed, then angled a look at her. “I don't remember you being so funny.”

“You were too busy yanking my chain to notice much else.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Suddenly his expression shifted to something much less humorous. “Things were a lot simpler back then, weren't they?”

Sensing that he wasn't referring to high school pranks, Erin set down her mug and gave him her full attention. “It's been tough on you, being there for your mom all the time.”

“Natalie's got her hands full with Sophie.”

“I wasn't talking about Natalie,” Erin reminded him gently. “I was talking about you. It's not easy to put your own life on hold and take care of someone else.”

Her sympathy seemed to be getting through the brave front he was trying to maintain, and he dragged his fingers through his hair with a deep sigh. Staring down at his coffee, he admitted, “No, it's not, but I'm doing my best.”

“Of course you are. You always do, because that's who you are. You keep at something until you figure out how to make it work.”

“This is different.” Lifting his eyes to hers, he confided, “I don't think Mom's ever gonna be the way she was.”

Accepting the truth was important to his own well-being, and Erin searched for a way to bring him some small measure of comfort. “Maybe not, but you and Natalie can help her make the most of what she has now. When I last saw her in church, it was obvious that she adores her granddaughter, so when she's up to it, spending time with Sophie will be great for her. God sends kids down to us because they have a way of making everything better, no matter how bad it looks.”

Silence.

The apartment was so quiet she could hear the slight hum of the coffeemaker's warming system. Open and optimistic only a few moments before, Cam's expression darkened ominously as barely restrained fury simmered in his eyes. Setting his half-empty mug on the counter, he turned away from her and made a beeline for the staircase. “Thanks for the coffee.”

His sudden turn of mood baffled her, and she called after him, only to be ignored. Irked by the cold shoulder, she tried again, this time adding a little temper for effect.

His hand on the old newel post, he angled a look back at her. “Yeah?”

“Did I say something wrong?”

His jaw tightened as if he was struggling to hold back a harsh response, and she said, “It's okay—be honest. I can take it.”

Hesitating, he seemed to be trying to form an answer to the toughest question on Earth. Then he met her confused gaze with a cool one of his own. “God and I haven't been on speaking terms for a long time.”

“Do you mind telling me why?”

As his look darkened even more, she thought he wasn't going to answer. Finally, in a strained voice, he explained. “When we were kids, we learned that if something was really important to us, we just had to ask God for it, and He'd make it happen. After my dad left, I prayed every night for him to come back, but he never did.”

“That was his choice,” Erin reasoned, feeling fresh sympathy for the anger he'd carried around with him all these years. “God doesn't go around making people do things against their will.”

“What about us?” Cam persisted grimly. “Did we deserve to be treated like that, humiliated in front of the whole town?”

“No, but—”

He cut her off with a hand in the air. “I don't wanna discuss this with you. You still have your faith, but I lost mine. Let's leave it at that.”

“I'm sorry, Cam. I didn't mean to upset you.”

He gave her something between a grimace and a smile and headed down the stairs without another word. Watching him go, Erin wasn't sure what to think of his stunning revelation.

They'd attended the same church growing up, and she'd always assumed that he shared her beliefs. Her faith was an integral part of who she was, and it had never occurred to her that he might feel differently. Learning that he no longer had a relationship with God made her feel more than sorry.

It made her sad.

* * *

Cam didn't realize he'd been at it so long until Parker walked through the dingy, glass front door. With a backpack slung over his shoulder and a sleeping bag in his arms, he looked tired but happy.

“Hey there, sport,” Cam greeted him lightly. “How was your sleepover?”

“Good,” he answered with a yawn.

Cam chuckled. He remembered those days, when he and the Kinley boys would take over the parlor at the farm, build a fort out of sofa cushions and commandeer all the classic board games in the house. When they got tired of those, they'd stay up until all hours doing...well, nothing. “Sounds like you didn't sleep much. Did your friend have some new video games for you to check out?”

Parker nodded. “He got a bunch for Christmas, and we played 'em all. They were pretty cool, but I like mine better.”

“Yeah? Why's that?”

“Because they're mine. I get to keep them and play them whenever I want. As long as my homework's done,” he added earnestly. “That's the rule.”

“It's a good one.” Cam noticed Parker eyeing his toolbox with the kind of interest he'd felt himself as a boy. Thanks to Granddad, he'd always loved building things, taking a pile of random stuff and making something useful out of it. Something told him Parker shared that feeling. “I'm helping Erin with these repairs, and I could use an extra set of hands. Wanna help?”