“We ran into unforeseen problems. It happens. Especially in old buildings like this one.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you have to do with it?”
“I’m the contractor.”
Lainie’s eyes widened in shock. “Why are you so far behind? Why didn’t you stay on top of things?”
Her words scraped like a steel rasp across his old guilt. She had every reason to think he was at fault. “There were foundation problems, and we uncovered asbestos in the walls, then—”
She held up her hand to stop his explanation, then rested her fists on the sides of her neck as if protecting herself from more bad news. His heart ached. She looked so defeated. She’d been through so much and he was piling on more.
“Why didn’t Mr. Ogden let me know?”
“I don’t know. I’m only involved with the construction phase.”
Shaw saw the full realization sink in. Her shoulders slumped and she leaned against the wall. “What am I going to do? I have to have a job.”
He stepped closer, catching a whiff of her strawberry scent. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. It’s the least I can do.”
A flash of anger sparked in her brown eyes. “Because you owe me?”
He winced at the truth of her comment. “Yes. But I also want to help. None of this is your fault.”
“No, it’s not.”
Shaw clenched his jaw. Her inference was clear. It was his fault she was a single mother. “But I can take care of things until you’re squared away.”
“Like that?” She pointed to the opening in the wall.
He grimaced. He should have thought about the opening. But then he hadn’t been expecting his past to slap him in the face. “I’ll fix it right now.”
She leveled her gaze at him, then walked through the opening to her side of the house. With her back straight and head high, her posture told him he’d better fix it. If he wasn’t so tied in knots, he would have found her attitude amusing.
In his garage workshop, Shaw inspected the extra lumber and other leftover materials he kept at the back. He moved a few pieces of scrap wood aside and picked up the single French door and leaned it against the workbench. It wasn’t the best solution to the hole in the wall, but it would have to do. His gaze fell on the coil of rope at the end of the counter. It would be the perfect size and length for a swing. He dismissed the idea. Lainie and her kids would be here for only a couple of days. Once she had her business settled, she’d be gone.
He hooked his tape measure onto his belt, shoved a few shims and screws into his pocket, then picked up the door and headed to the house. In the hallway, he rested the door against the wall, took some measurements, mentally calculating the best way to secure the door in the opening. Giggles and footsteps sounded overhead. Lainie’s girls.
They were two little cuties, for sure. Natalie, with her long curly hair and deep dimples was full of sparkle. She smiled and bounced every moment as if happy with life. The little one was more serious, with straight hair pulled back into a ponytail and wispy strands falling around her face. Tiny glasses perched on a button nose added cuteness to her already-sweet face. It must have been hard raising them alone. How had they managed these past five years? Who had Lainie turned to for help? Family? Friends?
He’d tried to offer his help right after the accident, but she’d refused his calls, and at the funeral, she’d ordered him to leave, making it clear she blamed him for her husband’s death. He could still feel the hot sting of her last words to him that day. “I don’t need anything from you. Ever.” But now she did, and he wasn’t going to let them down. He’d protect them and provide for them until they were safe and settled. As long as they were under his roof, he’d make sure they had everything they needed. They were his responsibility now.
Shaw channeled all his energy into securing the door into the opening. He was stooped down, driving in the last screw when Lainie appeared on the other side of the door. She glared through the pane, a deep frown on her face. He knew what was coming.
“It’s glass.”
Her words were muffled. He nodded and shrugged. She pursed her lips and pivoted on her heel. A few seconds later, she pushed through his back door and stopped at his side.
“You can see through it. Don’t you have some wood or something to cover this opening?”
“Not here at the house. I’m sure you can find something to hang over the door to maintain your privacy.” He pushed to his feet. “I’m hardly ever here. You’ll have the place to yourself most of the time.”
A knock at the back door drew his attention. Russ stepped into the hall, glancing between Shaw and Lainie. “You still need that ride?”
“I’ll be ready in a minute. Lainie, this is my foreman, Russ Franklin. Russ, this is Lainie Hollings.” Shaw ignored the stunned look on his friend’s face. “I asked him to stop by and take me to pick up my truck. Is there anything you need me to get for you while I’m out?”
Lainie crossed her arms over her chest, her reluctance to ask for more help evident in her pursed lips. “Food. The girls will be getting hungry and all I have are a few snacks.”
Shaw nodded. “No problem. Make me a list.” After muttering a pleasantry to Russ, Lainie returned to her side of the house. Shaw looked at Russ and saw his dark eyes brimming with questions.
“So that’s the woman whose husband fell.”
Shaw set his jaw. He didn’t want to discuss that day. “Yes.”
Russ whistled softly. “Interesting how the Lord works things out.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Putting this woman in your path again. Maybe He’s telling you it’s time to face a few things.”
Beaux slipped in through the doggie door and trotted to Russ’s side, wagging his tail at the rigorous rubbing he received.
Shaw ignored the comment and gathered up his tools. Russ was the only one who knew how the weight of Hollings’s death had affected Shaw. The guilt over the accident had sent him into a dark place. He’d left Beaumont Construction and moved to Gulf Shores, Alabama, and hired on with Russ’s company. When his behavior had started to affect his work, Russ had taken him under his wing, got him into church and helped him get his life back on track. Shaw had focused all his energy on mastering his craft, which had led to a job with Laura Durrant in Dover, a well-respected restorationist.
Russ examined the French door opening in the wall. “You used that to fill the hole?”
“Don’t have anything else. The boys used all my plywood during class last week.” He taught woodworking to some of the teens in town. Last week, they’d used the last of his plywood to make shelves for the church storage closet. He hadn’t had time to buy more.
Inside the cab of Russ’s truck, Shaw fastened his seat belt and stared straight ahead.
