She whirled around. "You
what?" The quick change in the conversation caught her off guard;
her mind still wrapped around the picture of her twelve year old
wedding dress.
"
I want to bring a few of the guys from the team over to
work on your porch."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Really?"
"
Really," he said seriously. "I want to help out. I think I
can get some of the guys to pitch in."
She turned and walked back
to their table. Sitting back down, she shook her head. "I don't get
it."
Burke grabbed his seat and
moved it closer to hers. "I want to be there for you and Duke. The
Bar J has always been a second home to me. Besides, you don't have
the time to hunt down contractors. Let me do the work."
His offer of aid touched her
heart, although the idea of him showing up every day at the Bar J
made her feel awkward.
"
Belle," he said softly, "don't twist this around too much
in your head."
She stared at the dark window on
the other side of the cafeteria for a moment. Normally a decision
like this came easy and without hesitation. But the day's events
had sapped her of her energy to think. She couldn't find one good
reason as to why she should deny his request. Finally, with a quick
nod, she agreed.
Two weeks after the tornado
terrorized the county, Burke and his young team hammered the last
nail into the Jamison porch. The uprooted cottonwood had been cut
up, corded, and stacked along the side of the house for winter
fires.
From atop the new roof where he
inspected the last bit of work, Burke watched Belle maneuver her
still dented truck down the drive.
He scurried down the ladder and
greeted her in the barnyard.
"
Evening, Jamison."
"
Evening, Benning," she replied, getting out of the
truck.
Burke pulled off his blue ball
cap and turned it around so the bill was on the back on his head.
He grinned as she walked toward him, the dogs clamoring about her
legs, barking for attention.
She wore a tattered old cowboy
hat that he recognized as once belonging to Duke. Her jeans were
ripped at the knees and covered with dust. The sleeves of her plain
red tee shirt were rolled up to her shoulders, and dirt smudged her
sweaty, but pretty face.
Burke liked the way she looked
at the end of the day, dusty and sweaty, yet still walking with her
back straight and her shoulders square. Her green eyes were radiant
with a zest for life, and a broad easy smile graced her lips.
"What do you think?" he
asked, sweeping his arm toward the porch.
She stood back, hands on
her hips, and surveyed the new structure. She looked up at him and
announced, "It's the best porch in the whole county."
He let out a deep breath
and smiled. "Mission accomplished," he said.
"
I don't know how to thank you," Belle started. "You won't
take money--"
"
Have dinner with me," he said.
She studied him for a
moment. Burke imagined the wheels of her mind churning as she
considered his request. "Please," he simply said.
Over the past two weeks they'd
worked into a comfortable routine, amiably greeting each other in
the morning and evenings, Belle allowing him to touch the
superficial part of her life.
After the fourth day, she began
brewing a pot of fresh coffee for them to share at the dawn of the
day. They discussed the day's work while sitting on the back step,
sipping from their cups and watching the sunrise.
Burke heartened as he felt their
friendship start to mend. Dinner, he decided, would move them away
from the casual day-to-day talk of work and open the door to
discuss more personal issues. Besides, he couldn't envision
anything more enjoyable than spending an evening with Belle
Jamison.
He pressed her one more
time. "Dinner at my place?"
Her eyes met his. "Dinner
sounds lovely."
An hour later, Burke had
showered and tossed seasoned steaks on the grill. Humming to
himself, he moved about the kitchen, tossing broccoli florets into
a steamer. Fresh picked sweet corn boiled on the stove and sweet
tea steamed from a crystal pitcher.
Belle hollered hello from the
front room.
"
In the kitchen."
"
Burke," she said from the front hall. "This place is
amazing."
He grinned as she appeared
in the kitchen doorway wearing a white sleeveless turtleneck and
dark green cargo shorts. A light touch of makeup replaced the dirt
smudges. "You clean up nice, Jamison."
Her sunburned cheeks
flushed a deeper red. "Don't look too bad yourself,
Benning."
"
So, you like the house?"
"
It's beautiful. I always loved this old place… but
wow."
"
Grandma covered all the wood with paint, wallpaper and
carpet. I found an older gentleman, Max, who's an excellent
craftsman. He's been doing the work for me."
"
He's a genius." Belle ran her hand along the cherry stained
trim, glancing at the molding around the ceiling and then the
polished hardwood floor.
Burke explained. "The
kitchen is basically new; refrigerator, stove, and windows. Dean
and I did most of that work while Max worked on the family room and
the front hall. He just finished those. Dad, Dean and I still need
to paint the walls where there's no woodwork. After that, it's the
living room, then the upstairs."
"
Sounds expensive," she said, arms crossed, hovering shyly
in the doorway.
"
Well, I plan to live here for a long time."
"
The other day someone told me they saw a tabloid headline
at the checkout counter declaring that you were broke," she
said.
He laughed. "What tabloid
was that?"
With a slight shrug, she
confessed, "Didn't ask. Personally, I avoid gossip
magazines."
He noticed her reservation
about entering the room. Gently, he urged her to come in and sit
down. "Dinner is ready. I just have to pull the steaks off the
grill."
"
I'll pour the tea," she volunteered as he stepped
outside.
He nodded his approval, his
heart palpitating when their eyes met.
They settled down to dinner and
into an easy conversation about Burke's new career and the Bar J's
new Web site.
"
How's Duke?" he asked when he got up to fetch the tea
pitcher.
"
Anxious to come home."
He refilled their glasses.
"Two weeks in the hospital is a long time."
"
Yeah, but the doc wasn't happy with how his leg was
healing. Either way, he won't be roping calves anytime
soon."
"
I'm free if you need an extra pair of hands," Burke offered
with sincerity.
Belle chewed her last bite
of steak and waved her fork at him. Swallowing, she said, "You've
done enough for us, Burke. Thanks."
He focused on his food,
hiding his desire to spend his days at the Bar J, near her. "Offer
stands."
"
I guess we could use an extra pair of hands while planting
the new fence--"
"
I can bring my own tools."
Belle laughed. "Tools I
got. I need strong backs and a willingness to work."
"
Got both," he said with a chuckle.
"
All right, but only if you let me pay you."
"
No," he protested. "Belle, please, I don't need the
money."
She bristled slightly. "We
don't need free labor."
Burke sat back in his
chair and rested his hand on his leg. "I didn't mean to
imply--"
She interrupted him. "I
know, I know. I'm sorry."
"
So, you'll let me work?"
Belle stared at him for a long,
silent moment.
Lord, how can I lay down my life
for my friend if she constantly resists me?
After a moment, he caught
the mischievous glint in her eyes. She said, "I'm not too proud to
turn down solid, but cheap labor. You got a deal."
Burke's laugh rang across
the kitchen. "Deal."
After dinner, they piled the
dirty dishes into the dishwasher, and he started a batch of
homemade ice cream, a Benning special recipe. Belle sat on a stool
at the counter and watched, carrying on the conversation from
dinner.
"
Did you hear Meg is going to have another baby?"
He looked up from where he
poured salt into the ice cream maker. "How many does this make?" He
flipped the switch and the machine hummed.
"
Their third."
He moved to the sink and
filled it with hot, sudsy water, then reached for the pots. "Good
for them."
Echoes of old, long ago
conversations whispered across his mind. Hours upon hour they used
to talk, sharing their dreams and hopes, fears and disappointments.
One deep philosophical conversation kept them up until the wee
hours of the morning.
"
Remember the time we stayed up all night talking?" he
suddenly asked.
"
How could I forget?"
"
Your dad came down to start breakfast, and there we sat in
the den, fire crackling in the fireplace--"
She laughed. "What a
raucous we caused. I nearly died when Dad grounded me for two
weeks."
Burke rinsed the last pot
and emptied the sink. "I didn't even know we talked all night," he
said, leaning against the counter, wiping his hands. "I never liked
saying good-bye to you."
She slid off the stool and
walked toward the family room. "But you did say it and in the worst
way."
He sighed, flipping the
dishtowel over the sink to dry, seeing again the long shadow he'd
cast over their lives.
"
Candles?" Belle called from the other room.
"
Believe it or not, I like them. They're
romantic."
"
Slap me silly, but Burke Benning is into
romance."
"
Give me a break, Belle." He flipped off the kitchen light
and joined her in the family room, settling on the couch,
stretching his long legs over the coffee table. He couldn't keep
his eyes off of her, curled up in his grandfather's old chair, the
candlelight casting warm hues on the delicate curves of her cheeks
and chin.
"
Sure, like the one you gave me," she bantered, her green
eyes snapping.
The shadow again, he
thought, cushioning his head with a throw pillow, shifting his
stare to the open beam ceiling. "If I'd have known then what I know
now."
"
What do you know now?" she asked.
He moved to the edge of
the sofa, unable to imagine anyone lovelier than Belle. How foolish
he'd been, utterly foolish. "I know that you are an incredible
woman. Warm, intelligent, funny. Beautiful."
She shifted in her seat,
appearing uncomfortable. "Please," she said, chuckling nervously.
"Now, Grace Peterson is beautiful."
"
Grace is very gorgeous lady," he admitted. "But she can't
rope a cow."
Belle laughed outright.
"With her looks and talent, who cares?"
Me, Burke wanted to say, but
thought better of it. This evening was not about Grace. It was
about them, it was about continuing the healing and restoring a
friendship.
"
Want to know what else I've learned?"
"
What else have you learned?" she asked.
"
To never give into my doubts and fears."
"
Perhaps the best lesson of all, then."
Silence drifted between them, a
peaceful silence, like the kind that comes after a storm.
"
Remember Tyler McDermott's thirteenth birthday party?" This
time Belle started the reminiscing.
Burke flopped against the
overstuffed cushions of the sofa, draping his arm over his
forehead. "I held your hand for the first time during the couples'
skate."
Belle laughed heartily.
"Your hand perspired so bad you couldn't hold on to me."
"
Nerves. Pure nerves."
Still laughing, she asked.
"Nerves? It was just me."
"
Just you," he echoed, tossing his hands in the air,
searching for the right words, lifting his head slightly to look at
her. "Until then, you were Belle Jamison, my best friend who had
the misfortune of being a girl."
"
Oh, really?" She raised her eyebrows and tipped her head
slightly, waiting for more of the story.
"
I figured you couldn't help being born female. But you were
so cool I wanted to hang out with you."