house hadn’t been paid for, so she’d let him take over the payments. He’d married again within a year.
Not her. She got by just fine without someone to stifle and criticize her every move, thank you very much. She almost felt sorry for Craig’s new wife, who obviously hadn’t known the oppression she was bowing under when she’d spoken those vows.
No, this was the life for her. She tucked her feet under her and sipped her tea. And as soon as she got back to San Francisco, everything would be back to normal—better than normal actually.
How long could the remodeling take, anyway? Could Mitch hurry along contractors? She would have to make it clear that expediency was part of the deal. No waiting around for weeks and weeks to get things done. She planned the tactics in her head—how she would make the arrangement, how long she would give him, and how soon the work would be under way.
And as for his children—what were two more little girls?
Mitch had been replacing wires and checking belts under the hood of his truck for about an hour when the pewter-colored Blazer pulled up into the graveled area. Heather got out, sent Jessica and Patrick into the house, and came over to talk to him, carrying her youngest. Mitch couldn’t help noticing the young mother’s shapely legs revealed by a pair of cuffed white shorts. His gaze skimmed up the length of those slender legs to her slim waist.
“Get it running?” she asked. Her shoulder-length honey-brown hair glistened with streaks of blond in the sunlight. She wore a sleeveless sweater with a row of tiny buttons that drew his attention to nicely rounded breasts beneath the fabric. The soft shade of blue made her golden eyes sparkle once she pushed her sunglasses up onto her head. The baby’s hand rested on the swell of one breast and Mitch’s throat got so dry, he had to look away.
He wiped his hands on a rag. “Pretty rough, but it’s running. I figured I’d have it towed to get it out of your yard, if it didn’t start.”
“It’s not bothering anything,” she replied. She glanced around the yard. “You fixed the corral.”
“First thing.”
Her unreadable gaze fluttered to the barn and back. “Mitch.”
His name from her lips pleased him in some unexplainable way. He liked the sound. “Yeah.”
“Your suggestions were better than any of the other candidates’s. I’ve decided to negotiate with you on the remodeling project. There are a few things we need to get straight first, and I have a list of questions.”
“My time is your time,” he said amenably.
“Have you had lunch?”
“Not yet.”
“Please join us. After we eat, we’ll sit on the porch, such as it is, and talk business.”
He gave a nod. “All right.”
“Where are your daughters?”
“Cade agreed to look after them. He’s a newlywed and his wife Leanne teased that he could use the practice.”
“He seems like a nice guy.”
“Very. I’m glad we got together. With my other half brothers, too. It’s been an interesting experience. Whether or not I get any land isn’t really important. Discovering I have family is.”
She tucked a length of hair behind her ear and looked away, as if the personal subject made her uncomfortable. She adjusted Andrew on her hip and the boy’s hand dropped from her breast. Mitch made himself look at her eyes. Equally as disturbing.
“About twenty-five minutes, then?” she asked.
He refocused on their conversation. “I’ll be there.”
Almost an hour later she carried two frosted glasses of iced tea out to the porch and they settled on the weathered furniture. She crossed her smooth, distracting legs. She had to know what a distraction that was, but she seemed to not notice his perusal. Her toes peeked from her sandals, revealing delicate nails painted a pale pink.
Mitch purposely studied one of the barn cats that lay in a sliver of sunlight. The feline gave him a disinterested blink and flicked his tail against the porch floor in a rhythmic beat.
“First, it’s important that you know I’m under time pressure to get this done and get back home,” Heather told Mitch.
“I understand.” He’d never met anyone who wasn’t in a hurry to get a construction project finished. “There’s quite a bit I can do on my own,” he said. “But the more help I can hire, the faster it’ll go. But since money is tight, we can’t bring in too many workers.”
“How many will speed things up?”
“Even two or three would help a lot.”
“Can I afford them?”
“I’ll contract them. That way they’ll be getting paid as the work progresses, even though I won’t get paid until the sale goes through. How’s that?”
She looked surprised. “That’s more than I expected. You wouldn’t survive a week in San Francisco, doing business this way.”
“You can get ripped off by paying for services ahead of the finished work,” he replied, thinking she was biting the hand that fed her if that had been criticism.
“Noted,” she said with a nod.
“Let’s decide how extensive you want this renovation, and make a budget.”
Again she looked surprised, as though she hadn’t expected him to be this professional. After seeing his ineptitude with his kids, her surprise might be justified, he thought wryly.
She walked him through the house, and he took notes and made lists on the tablet in his black folder. He asked her questions and made suggestions until their ideas for the project were compatible.
They entered the wood-floored living room where the kids were sprawled on sleeping bags, watching a cartoon.
“Do you have a computer?” he asked.
She nodded. “I brought it with me so I could work.”
“Good. I have a program for designing kitchens and baths that you can play with. You give it the specs, lay out the requirements, and it designs the blueprints. Saves a lot of money and the plans are easy to work from. I’ve used it dozens of times. Let’s go outside.”
She nodded and they walked out to survey the house and outbuildings together.
“The house is good and solid, and the land is valuable. Your father had a nice operation going here at one time. I would think it would be hard to sell and leave it all to strangers.”
She glanced at the cloudless blue sky, then down the length of the drive. “I have a good job waiting for me.”
Not an explanation. Not a word about any sentimental ties or feelings of regret at selling. Nothing personal at all. He’d been neatly
