Repairing More Than Just A House

Grace Saunders returns to Spruce Lake, Colorado, to oversee the renovation of a house she’s inherited—and to get away from a bad divorce. She’s not planning to run into her high school sweetheart, Jack O’Malley. She has a secret she’ll give anything to keep, even when it turns out that Jack’s her new contractor.

Now Jack and Grace have to work together—and work at keeping their hands off each other. Grace is the same girl Jack used to know, the one he never got over. Jack’s grown into a man Grace could fall in love with all over again. And the entire O’Malley clan is rooting for a romantic reunion.

But should Grace keep her twelve-year-old secret? And if she tells, will Jack ever forgive her?

“If I’m going to work on this house, you’re going to help me…”

“What’s up?” Jack asked. “Your face is flushed again.”

To prevent him from asking any further questions, Grace stuck out her hand and said, “If I agree to your outrageous terms, do we have a deal?”

What was she saying? She couldn’t get out of town fast enough to prevent Jack from somehow discovering the truth she’d hidden from him for twelve long years. Yet here she was agreeing to stay and help. Still, she really needed to have the house restored before it completely fell to pieces.

And besides, how hard could it be watching Jack working under the hot sun? Seeing him again, she couldn’t get rid of the notion they had unfinished business.

She’d kept her secret safe this long, she could keep it to herself a bit longer….

Dear Reader,

One of my favorite romance themes is the reunion story. I wonder what it’s like to be reunited with your high school or college sweetheart?

In Sweet Home Colorado, Jack O’Malley, the last of the O’Malley men to find love, is knocked off his feet when his high school sweetheart, Grace Saunders, returns to Spruce Lake. At first he’s reluctant to have anything to do with Grace, but he soon finds himself under her spell and agreeing to renovate the house she’s inherited from her great-aunt.

Jack is the one person Grace hopes she won’t run into in Spruce Lake, but—doing a bit of matchmaking—her lawyer employs Jack as the contractor responsible for renovating the old Victorian that now belongs to her.

Grace has a secret she’s kept from Jack for more than a dozen years, and now her greatest fear is that he’ll discover what it is!

Did I tell you my other favorite theme was secret babies?

Find out how Grace and Jack’s relationship develops into love and how they resolve their differences once Jack discovers Grace’s secret.

This is the fifth and final installment of The O’Malley Men series. I hope you’ve enjoyed seeing the O’Malley brothers fall in love as much as I have.

I enjoy hearing from readers. You can write to me at cc@cccoburn.com.

Happy reading and healthy lives!

C.C. Coburn

Sweet Home Colorado

C.C. Coburn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

C.C. Coburn was born in the heart of Australia’s outback, then moved to its Pacific Coast. She’s traveled the world, lived in England, Austria and the USA and still counts traveling as one of her passions.

She learned to ski in Austria, then discovered Colorado’s majestic Rocky Mountains and bought a home there. She now divides her time between Australia, Colorado and England, where one of her three children lives. Her other children still call Australia home.

C.C. shares her life with a beautiful Labrador and a man who, after thirty-two years of marriage, still looks pretty darned good in his kilt.

MILLS & BOON

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Many thanks to

My faithful reader Jan Durkin.

Talented author and nurse Fiona Lowe.

Handyman Garth Stroble.

My wonderful editor, Paula Eykelhof.

And as always, Keith.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Preview

Prologue

“Jack? Are you still there?”

Jack O’Malley took a seat on the front steps of the house he’d just finished restoring in Spruce Lake, Colorado. He cradled his cell phone against his shoulder and wiped his brow. It was hot. Damned hot for June. Especially June in the Rockies. “I’m still here, Mike, and the answer’s still no.”

“C’mon, it’s only an estimate. You’ve got time for that, haven’t you?”

Jack groaned. It was flattering to be in demand for his services as a contractor who specialized in high-quality home-building and renovation, but one day he’d like to be able to take a holiday. With the way work kept piling up, that wasn’t going to happen any time in the next decade. And now his friend and lawyer, Mike Cochrane, wanted to heap on more work. He’d already turned down the same job late last week, when Mike first contacted him about it. Now Mike was sounding desperate.

“Like I told you, Jack, my client’s a doctor. And you know how much I need new clients—wealthy ones.”

Jack gave a snort of disgust. “And like I told you, Mike, the answer’s still no.”

“Aw, c’mon, Jack. Buddy,” he said, drawing out the last word. “You’re the only person capable of restoring that Victorian on Lincoln.”

Just as it had last week, Jack’s heart rate kicked up a notch at the mention of the old house. Gracie Saunders, the girl he’d dated in high school, had lived there. Missy Saunders, her great-aunt, had owned the house, but she’d moved to the Twilight Years retirement home a decade ago. The place had been rented out over the years, until it fell into such a state of disrepair no one wanted to live there. Missy had passed away a couple of years back and Jack assumed the house had been sold to the doctor—who’d probably, like too many of Spruce Lake’s second-home owners, use it two weeks a year and leave it vacant for the other fifty.

He took a long swig of orange juice. “Since when did you start pimping for clients wanting their houses restored?”

“Since a friend of a friend told this doctor I had contacts here in Spruce Lake. Contacts who were reliable.”

Jack didn’t miss the inflection in Mike’s voice. If he said no to the estimate, he’d be letting Mike down. Mike had done a lot for the O’Malleys, especially helping Jack’s brother Will foil the development company that had wanted to tear down half the old buildings on Main Street and put up a bunch of condos and a shopping mall. Their plan would’ve destroyed the Victorian-era character of the town. Instead, Will and his supporters had saved the buildings from destruction and Jack had spent the past few years restoring many of them.

But his next project was building a new home for Adam, his wife, Carly, and their kids. Adam had got land at a bargain-basement price from Will, who’d recently subdivided the ranch he’d bought a dozen years earlier into ranchettes of around ten acres each. The ranchettes had funded the purchase of buildings on Main Street to save them from destruction.

Jack couldn’t disappoint Adam and Carly. The house they presently lived in was getting to be way too small for Adam’s growing family. Jack’s youngest brother had married a widow with four children. Then they’d adopted two dogs and a cat from the animal shelter. And now Carly was pregnant.

“I’d love to restore that beauty to her former grandeur, Mike, but right now I don’t have the time. You know I’m slated to start work on Adam and Carly’s place next.”

It sure would be nice to renovate the old Victorian, though. The house had stood empty and neglected for too long. Jack scratched the rash on the inside of his elbow, then felt the need to scratch the one behind his knee. He’d have to see a doctor about the damned things pretty soon. Another doctor. That senile old fool Jenkins and his expensive creams hadn’t helped the rashes he’d been plagued with for the past couple of months. In fact, they just kept getting worse. The guy ought to be put out to pasture. “When’s your client going to be here?”

“Tomorrow. And I’m supposed to have found and employed a contractor by then.”

“Again, I don’t understand why you’re so hung up on me doing this. I didn’t know lawyers did stuff like that for their clients.”

“Jack, lawyers would walk barefoot over hot coals for their clients.”

Jack let out a guffaw of derision. “Yeah, right! Pull the other leg—it plays ‘Jingle Bells.’ What you mean is—so long as they pay you enough, you’d do the hot-coals walk.”

“I’ve already received a hefty advance for finding the right contractor. Naturally, the doc is now one of my most important clients.”

“Yeah, he’s probably, apart from me, your only client!”

He could hear the smile in Mike’s voice. One thing Mike wasn’t short of was clients. Too bad a lot of them failed to pay up. “C’mon, Jack. Gimme a break and get an estimate to me, ASAP?”

Jack grimaced. He knew what Mike was saying and it wasn’t too far from the truth—his lawyer could do with building up his client base. A paying client base. Too often softhearted Mike ended up footing the bill for his clients. Snaring a doctor, one prepared to send an advance, was a coup.

Spruce Lake, nestled in the Colorado Rockies, was a ski and summer resort that, until a decade ago, had been a well-kept secret. However, it was now being discovered, and those in the know had been snapping up properties for a good few years. That helped boost the local economy, but Jack wasn’t sure he welcomed the change to his formerly sleepy hometown.

In Jack’s opinion, Spruce Lake was picture-postcard perfect. Filled with a mixture of old Victorians and more modern homes, its main attraction was an unsurpassed ski mountain during the winter. It also offered myriad summer activities from hiking and bike riding to golfing and white-water rafting, fishing, mine tours and a thriving Main Street market.

The only problem, according to the Chamber of Commerce, was that the rest of the world had barely heard of the place. Sure, Aspen and Vail were household names for the dedicated skier, celebrity and socialite, but Spruce Lake had yet to be discovered by the glitterati—which suited Jack just fine. Small-town life was what he knew and loved. He didn’t want to live anywhere else, and if this rich doctor client of Mike’s wanted to preserve some of the town’s unique beauty by restoring Missy Saunders’s old Victorian, then he should be willing to help out—a little, anyway.

“I’ll see what I can do about an estimate, Mike.”

“Great! I knew I could rely on you, buddy. Can I have it first thing tomorrow?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m serious. This is urgent.”

Jack sighed. Mike was certainly keen to impress his client. “You seem to forget there’s more than the carpentry to quote on. There’s also, plumbing, electrical, roofing—”

“Yeah, yeah. A guesstimate will be fine. I just need something!”

Jack shook his head. Mike wasn’t going to quit nagging until he agreed. “I’ll get it to you by noon. How’s that sound? And listen, it’s just an estimate for comparison purposes. I really don’t have the time to do the work. I’ve made a promise to Adam and Carly.”

“Yeah, yeah. Listen, I gotta go.” He suddenly cut the connection.

Jack stared at his cell phone. For someone who claimed he didn’t have enough paying clients, Mike sure was busy. Since moving back to town from a big practice in Colorado Springs, the guy had gotten himself elected to the Chamber of Commerce, so maybe he had some business to attend to there.

He wasn’t due anywhere for a couple of hours so Jack figured he might as well head over to the house. He wouldn’t need a key to get in—one of the front windows had been smashed recently by some kids on spring break. At the very least, he should board it up against further vandalism.

Chapter One

Jack eased his old truck against the curb behind a bright red BMW Z4 parked outside Missy Saunders’s and wished he had the time to work on the house. He hated to see the magnificent old buildings of the former gold-mining town lying unloved and unkept. This home was a particularly fine specimen, built by a miner who’d struck it rich with a huge nugget back in the 1870s. It had passed down through the miner’s family, eventually going to Missy Saunders. Missy was an only child and had never married. Jack guessed it had been sold long ago to pay Missy’s nursing-home fees. The sweet old lady had spent a while at the Twilight Years before passing on. Jack regretted he hadn’t been living in Spruce Lake so he could’ve attended her funeral—especially since his mom had reported that Gracie had made a brief appearance to pay her respects to her great-aunt. He wished he’d seen her then. It might have helped him make up his mind about a few things, maybe get her out of his system once and for all.

He shook his head to clear it. No point in reminiscing about what might have been. He and Gracie were history. She was never coming back to town; she’d told him as much. He really needed to get over her and move on with his life. His realization that he was still in love with her had helped him decide that he’d never make a priest and he’d left the seminary in L.A. before being ordained. Although there’d been other reasons for leaving, Gracie had been the main one. But she was a married woman and therefore off-limits, so instead he’d channeled his energies into a carpentry apprenticeship, then worked with underprivileged kids helping them learn a trade and life skills. It was rewarding work, but a lonely life nevertheless.

Since returning to Spruce Lake a couple of years ago, Jack had restored many of the town’s Victorian-era buildings—but none of them had the size and grandeur of Missy Saunders’s place. Still, there were other contractors in the county, whom Mike had probably been sweet-talking all week. Funny that no one else had taken on the project.

Parked in front of the sports car was his new truck, emblazoned with Jack O’Malley Constructions on the doors. Jack had taken delivery of the Dodge Ram only last week. And he hated it. It was just too new and shiny for him. He preferred his old Ford F150.

Jack had had Betsy since high school and, before that, she’d been used to run around the family ranch, Two Elk. She had over a million miles on the clock and wasn’t missing a beat. Her seats were worn and comfortable and fitted Jack’s butt like a glove.

He’d felt like a traitor when he’d taken Betsy down to trade her in on the Dodge. They’d offered peanuts for her, so he’d kept Betsy and bought the Dodge.

Two days later he gave the Dodge to his foreman, Al Hernandez, to drive. Al was only too happy to use the boss’s truck, with its smell of new leather and its too shiny paintwork. Al had three young boys, and the twin cab arrangement suited his family perfectly.

Jack had arranged to meet Al at the house, figuring the two of them would get through the assessment twice as fast. He’d blow this doctor off with a ridiculously high estimate and then he’d be able to start on Adam’s place with a clear conscience—and the knowledge that another contractor in town would get the job. Not that any other contractor would be as good as Jack and his team, but what did this doctor think? That he could snap his fingers and have someone start immediately?

The door of the sports car opened and a woman stepped out. Her dark hair fell across her face, hiding her features, but Jack didn’t miss the oh-so-long legs and trim figure as she stalked around the front of her sports car and onto the sidewalk.

She walked with confidence, like a woman used to getting her own way. She, and the car, looked totally out of place in Spruce Lake. Jack’s hometown was more battered SUVs, jeans and cowboy boots—not flashy sports cars, designer dresses and six-inch heels.

One of those heels wedged itself in a crack in the sidewalk.

Jack watched as she bent to pull it out, revealing a lot more leg...and the bright red undersides of her shoes.

He enjoyed the show, wondering who this fish out of water could be visiting in Spruce Lake, because for sure she wasn’t local. Jack would’ve noticed her way before this if she was.

He could hear her cursing through the open window of his truck. Time to rescue the damsel in distress, he decided as he climbed out and sauntered over to the woman. “Need any help?” he asked.

She stopped cussing and pulling at her leg long enough to stand up to her full height and look him in the eye.

Jack felt the sucker punch right to his gut. He’d know those bewitching light brown eyes, that pert nose, those soft full lips, anywhere.

Gracie.

She’d lost a good fifteen pounds, had her hair cut and styled and was wearing way too much makeup, but it was her, all right.

He swallowed and said, “Hi, Gracie.”

She frowned and said, “Do I know you?”

Jack felt the sucker punch again as she reminded him how insignificant a part of her life he’d been, in spite of their dating for nearly two years in high school.

He pulled off his sunglasses and held out his hand. “Jack O’Malley. We dated for a while. Remember?”

Jack had fallen hard for Gracie the day she’d entered his classroom in their junior year. She’d graduated with an A-plus average, while Jack—thanks to his dyslexia—had barely scraped through. She’d won a scholarship to college, then medical school. Jack hadn’t fared quite so well—at least, not scholastically. He’d joined the peace corps right out of high school and worked on projects around the world for two years. He’d come home, drifted through college. Then, believing it was the best way to answer his calling to help others, he entered the seminary.

She stared at Jack, glanced at Betsy and then at his shiny new truck with Jack O’Malley Constructions on the door, and finally back at him. “Jack? You’re my contractor?”

“You inherited the house from your Aunt Missy?”

She shrugged. “Sort of. It’s a long story.”

One Jack was curious about since if anyone should have inherited, he’d expected it to be Gracie’s bum of a father. So Mike was well aware of who the owner was and Jack’s connection to her.

Meddling Mike wasn’t above a bit of matchmaking. Well, he’d lose any bets on this one.

Mike probably figured Jack wouldn’t be able to say no to his high school sweetheart. Mike was wrong.

“I’m not your contractor,” he said, almost wishing—perversely—that he was. He had something to prove to Gracie Saunders. “I agreed to do an estimate, for comparison’s sake. That’s all.”

“He told me...” She suddenly seemed to remember that her shoe was still stuck in the sidewalk and bent again to try pulling it out. Since the heels were so high and her dress so short and tight-fitting, it wasn’t an easy task.

“Allow me,” Jack said, and knelt at her feet. He grimaced at the metaphor. He’d virtually worshipped the ground Gracie walked on in high school. She’d been his first girlfriend. His first lover. And then she’d walked all over his heart.

He gently grasped her ankle in one hand and her shoe in the other.

* * *

GRACE FELT A SHOT of heat race up her leg at Jack’s touch. She watched as those big, capable hands eased her foot from her Christian Louboutin pump and placed it on the sidewalk while he worked on getting her shoe out of the crack. Jack had sure grown up. No wonder she hadn’t recognized him. He was so much taller, so much broader. Jack was no longer a high school boy; he was a man, and that resonated deep inside her.

But Jack was the one person whose path she hadn’t wanted to cross in Spruce Lake. If they spent any time together, she was afraid he’d discover her secret, which had the potential to destroy them both.

“Careful!” she warned as he pulled her shoe from the walk.

Jack stood to his full height, towering over her by at least eight inches now that she was balancing on her foot without the benefit of six-inch heels.

He examined the shoe, then handed it to her, saying, “Why anyone would want to wear something as impractical as this is beyond my comprehension.”

Grace had worn those shoes to impress. Impress anyone from her past she might happen to run into in Spruce Lake. She wanted to show them that Grace Saunders—in spite of her crappy home life, her loser parents, her hand-me-down clothes—had made good. In fact, she’d made better than good. She was a successful Boston pediatrician with a long list of patients.

Her shoulders sagged. A list of patients she’d handed over in her haste to leave town. She might be financially secure and successful. But she was also completely burned out.

She took the shoe from Jack and examined the heel. It was shattered. She cursed.

“Thank you is the usual form of appreciation in this town,” he said.

She glanced up at him and said, “So, I heard you’d become a priest or something?”

* * *

HE NODDED. “OR SOMETHING. I’m now a contractor.” No point in telling her the whole story. She wouldn’t be in town long enough for it to matter.

“My contractor.”

He shook his head. “I’ve already told Mike I couldn’t do this job.”

“Even if I paid you double?”

Now he stuck both hands in the back pockets of his jeans. She had him there. Money always talked and he had plenty of community projects he could direct some extra funds to, but Adam and Carly were family. He owed them.

“Not even then.”

“I don’t remember you being such a hard case in high school, Jack,” she said, practically batting her eyelashes at him.

“High school was a long time ago, Gracie,” he said, since she seemed to be avoiding the fact that they’d dated for two years.

When Gracie had put her name forward as a peer tutor, Jack, struggling because of dyslexia, had signed up. They’d spent a lot of time together after school hours and eventually he’d built up the courage to ask her out. She’d said, “What took you so long? Where did you have in mind?”

Jack had been so flabbergasted, never believing she’d say yes, that he didn’t have anywhere in mind. Except to go parking at Inspiration Point, the local necking spot. Not that he’d ever necked with a girl. And he didn’t get to do it that night, either. But later...

“What do you mean, ‘Not even then’?” she demanded, bringing him back to the present.

Jack crossed his arms and widened his stance. “I’m due to start work on my brother’s house outside town tomorrow. I don’t break my promises.”

* * *

GRACE ADMIRED HIS candor. Then a need to prick the confidence he was projecting made her say, “Didn’t you break your promise to the church by leaving the priesthood?” Aunt Missy had written her about it.

His eyes narrowed. “My relationship with the church, and why I left, is none of your business.”

Dammit! She was intrigued and couldn’t let it go. “Did you fall in love with one of your parishioners?”

“And you just stepped way over the mark.” He gave her a tiny salute, saying, “Goodbye, Gracie,” turned on his heel and headed to his truck. “I’d say it’s been a pleasure. But it hasn’t.”

“It’s Grace!” she shouted to his back. “Not Gracie.” How dare he just walk away like that!

He shrugged and pulled open the door of his truck. “Whatever,” he said, and climbed in.

“Wait!” she cried, and hobbled toward his truck, one shoe on and one off.

She went to rest her arms on the passenger’s side window frame, then noticed it was dusty. She touched the frame with her fingertips and leaned in. “I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Yes, you did.” He started the truck.

“You can’t leave me here like this! You promised to give me an estimate.”

“I promised Mike I’d give him an estimate. That was before I knew who his doctor client was. Goodbye, Grace.”

Chapter Two

Jack hated being played for a sucker. Mike knew exactly who he was dealing with, that was why he’d avoided using the doctor’s name. And Mike knew that Jack wouldn’t want to have anything to do with Grace. She’d left town, and him, without a backward glance after winning a full scholarship to a college in Boston faster than a snowflake melted in July. For too many years he’d tried to forget her. Now here she was, back in Spruce Lake and acting as if there’d been nothing between them.

And why shouldn’t she? She’d moved on, married, probably had kids. It cut deep that she hadn’t recognized him right away. He’d obviously spent too much time loving someone who didn’t feel the same way about him.

It hadn’t helped that during his time in the peace corps he’d been posted to remote places, often without internet access. They’d exchanged letters for a while, but Grace was always slow to respond, and when she did, it was all about college, the people she was hanging out with, how much she loved life in Boston.

Jack eventually realized she was letting him down as nicely as she could. He later heard she’d graduated from college early and gone to medical school. Then she’d married. Lost, Jack had entered the seminary, believing he could help others. He’d wasted too many years dreaming of Grace. Now that she was here in the flesh, he had no intention of letting her under his skin again.

He put Betsy in gear, ready to get out of there—make a symbolic break with Grace. He glanced at her manicured fingertips still resting on Betsy’s window frame, hoping she’d take the hint and move.

“Mike didn’t tell you it was me who wanted the estimate?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her frown and confused tone had him cursing under his breath. He turned off the ignition and scratched the inside of his elbow.

“I wonder why not,” she said, a little too loudly now that Betsy’s engine was no longer thumping away.

Jack wasn’t going to tell her why not. Mike knew that if Jack had any idea who the client was, he’d have refused outright. He wanted to hit himself upside the head for not making the connection. Mike sure had suckered him. He’d suckered Grace, too. He scratched the back of his neck.

Suddenly Grace was climbing into the passenger seat. An erotic fantasy—involving him and Grace in Betsy’s cab—filled Jack’s mind as she ran her hand down the inside of his elbow. Then she leaned in close to look at the back of his neck before he could react and tell her to get the hell out of his truck.

“Whoa! What are you doing?” he demanded, pulling away from her, worried his fantasy might come true. Half-worried it might not.

“Taking a look at your arm. And your neck.”

Jack edged farther away from her, embarrassed about the rashes.

“What if we make a deal?” she said.

“About?”

“If I cure you of these rashes, will you do the renovation for me?”

Much as Jack wanted to be done with the rashes and all the scratching, he had a prior obligation to his brother. “Nope,” he said, and resisted the urge to scratch the back of his knee. He felt as if he was carrying a contagious disease and wondered why Grace was even sitting in the truck with him. Apparently she wasn’t afraid of catching it.

She jumped as Al stuck his head through the passenger window. Al had the stocky build of his Mexican father and the height of his English-born mother. But Jack doubted it was Al’s physique that had Grace scooting across the seat. It was more likely the snake tattoo that ran from Al’s right wrist up his arm, disappeared into the sleeve of his T-shirt and emerged to coil around his throat. Several times. Grace couldn’t take her eyes off it.

“Hey, boss,” he said to Jack, and nodded to Grace.

Jack’s cell rang. He retrieved it from his pocket and saw that the call was from Adam. If it had been from Mike, he would’ve ignored it.

“Hey, Adam. What can I do for you?”

“You know how you’re supposed to start work on our house?”

“Ye-es,” Jack said slowly, suspicion creeping up his spine.

“Well, I’m wondering if you have anything else you could do instead. Carly wants to stay closer to the hospital until after the baby arrives. She has short labors and she’s worried the extra distance from the new house will mean the difference between giving birth in the hospital and giving birth in the car. To tell you the truth, I’d prefer the first option.”

This had Mike’s meddling written all over it. “I thought you were spilling out of the house on Washington?”

“We are. But that bothers me a lot less than not making it to the hospital in time.”

“So you want me to delay starting your renovation?”

“If you could.”

The tentacles of suspicion crept further up Jack’s spine. “Has Mike called you today?”

“Mike who?”

Jack’s lips thinned. So now it was a conspiracy involving Mike and Adam to throw him and Grace together for the summer. He glanced at Grace. She looked completely innocent.

“I’ll get back to you,” he said, and shut off his phone.

“Grace, this is my foreman, Al Hernandez.”

She offered her hand and Al shook it vigorously.

“I’ve been waiting for you at the back of the house, boss,” Al said. “Yet I find you here, making time with the prettiest señorita this side of the Front Range.”

Jack climbed out of the truck while Al stood back and opened the door for Grace. She slipped past him with a whispered “Thank you” and hobbled to her vehicle. Jack enjoyed the view as she bent to remove her other shoe, opened the trunk and fished around inside it. She straightened, dropped a pair of fancy flip-flops on the ground and stepped into them.

“That’s better,” she said, coming over to them. “I’m Grace Saunders, by the way.” She flashed Al a smile and Jack could see his burly foreman melting under her charms.

Jack cleared his throat. “Shouldn’t you be getting home to Maria and the children?” For some stupid reason he needed to let Grace know that Al was spoken for, even though he was the one who’d prevented Al from getting home by asking to meet him here.

“Just as soon as we’ve done this estimate, boss.”

The three of them headed toward the house, going in through the squeaky front gate and up the weed-covered path. Al continued to the back of the house, saying, “I’ll finish measuring up the outside. Do you have a key?”

“Nope.” Jack reached inside the smashed pane of one of the front windows, releasing the catch. He pulled up the window and hoisted himself inside. Before he could open the front door, Grace followed him in, climbing over the sill.

* * *

MEMORIES FLOODED GRACE—memories she wasn’t prepared for. She staggered and Jack caught her arm.

“I was going to open the door for you,” he said.

Grace wasn’t going to correct his misunderstanding that climbing through the window had caused her to lose her balance.

“You’re whiter than a ghost,” he said. “Would you like to sit down?” Without waiting for an answer, he led her to the stairs.

She sank gratefully onto the first step and forced herself to smile up at him. “I’m just tired. My body’s two hours ahead of my brain and the altitude is bothering me.”

“Is there anyone I can call for you? Your husband?”

Grace shook her head. “My...ex-husband is back in Boston.”

“You’re divorced?”

“I certainly hope so. Otherwise, Edward could end up in a lot of trouble with the law. He’s planning on getting married again come September. To his first ex-wife.”

Jack’s grin lit up his face. He’d always had a great smile.

“I heard your half of the conversation with your brother. Since he doesn’t need you, what do I have to do to sweet-talk you into restoring this place for me?”

What was she saying? Only a moment ago she was dreading spending any time with Jack for fear he’d discover her secret and now she was practically begging him to take the job!

Jack scratched the inside of his elbow again.

“That offer of a cure is still open, if it’ll clinch the deal.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “What are you really doing here, Gracie?”

“Grace,” she corrected. “I want this house restored.”

“And then what?”

“And then what, what?”

“Stop talking in riddles. Are you going to stay—or are you heading back to Boston?”

“You mean now?”

“Yes. Now. And then when the place is restored, are you flipping it, never to return to Spruce Lake?”

“My life is in Boston.” No way was she staying in this backwater where everyone knew everyone else’s business and the sidewalks were a death trap for expensive shoes. If Jack took the job, she wouldn’t have to hang around Spruce Lake supervising. She could get out of there, away from Jack, away from any fear that he’d discover her secret.

“Then I suggest you go back there. I’ll help you find another contractor who won’t mind putting his heart and soul into restoring a place only to have it sold off.”

“I’m not selling it, Jack. It has to stay in the family. That’s a promise I made to Aunt Missy.”

Before he could respond, she said, “I’m going to travel around Europe for the next couple of months.” She wondered where that had come from. In truth, Grace hadn’t given much thought to anything the past couple of days, not since little Cassie Greenfield died.

Her patient’s death—one of too many—had been the catalyst for Grace’s decision to throw everything in, get away from Boston and dying children and an ex-husband about to remarry and all the people who wanted to remind her of that while trying to set her up with their cousin, or brother or—heaven forbid—their uncle!

Just because Edward had been more than twice her age didn’t mean she was looking for another older man. It didn’t mean she was looking for another man, period! Edward had been a far from satisfactory husband or lover. But she’d married him in her first year of med school, when he was already a well-respected neurosurgeon. She’d craved the respect and financial security marrying Edward would bring. She’d basked in his compliments and ignored the thirty-year age gap—the age gap that meant he didn’t want any more children. He had two daughters and a son by his previous wife. They were all horrible to Grace—as was his ex-wife—whenever they happened to cross paths at social functions.

When Cassie Greenfield, a little girl who’d fought so hard and so bravely—like so many of her patients did against cancer—had died, something had died inside Grace. Cassie was the same age her daughter, Amelia, would be now. Her and Jack’s daughter.

The guilt she felt at having given up a healthy child, and the cumulative effect of treating so many who weren’t healthy, had come to a head that day.

Grace’s love of medicine and her belief in herself, that she could cure all the hurt and pain in the world, were shattered. She’d needed to get away, regroup, maybe think about another medical specialty. One that didn’t involve dying children.

There was a good reason she’d chosen to specialize in pediatrics—to atone for her sins. The guilt of giving her baby away bit deep. But the real sin she’d committed twelve years earlier was in not telling Jack—of not giving him a chance. That was the one she really needed to answer for. How she could even start to do that, Grace had no idea.

Jack scratched his elbow again. She knew that what he was suffering from was something she could easily cure. With no chance of Jack dying.

“What do you want from me, Jack?” she asked.

His eyebrows rose speculatively.

“Apart from that.”

He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Did I say anything?”

She grinned. That would doubtless be very nice. She wondered what it would be like to have a young, virile man like Jack make love to her. Instead of a selfish older man like Edward who was also a lousy lover.

Wondering what sort of lover Jack would be, now that he was a man—not a fumbling teen—Grace felt her face heat.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked. “You look flushed.”

“I’m fine,” she said, working to recover her equilibrium. “But can we negotiate? I’d very much like you to restore this house for me.”

“Then you’ll have to help with it,” he said, and glanced pointedly at her manicured nails.

“You’ve got to be joking! You have a foreman, so I assume you have a crew of workers. How would I be able to help?”

“You can sweep up, run down to the hardware store for supplies. Make lunch for the gang. Paint walls. Stuff like that.”

“And my trip to Europe?”

“You and I both know you just made that up.”

Grace chewed her lip. Jack was pretty shrewd. “I’d like to go to Europe sometime.”

“Then you can. When we’ve finished this project.”

We. The word scared her, especially in relation to Jack. They’d dated for two years but had only made love once—the night before Jack headed off for the peace corps and she left for college. Jack had excited her far more that fateful night than Edward ever did the entire time they were married.

And Jack had given her what Edward never could.

Why they’d waited so long to make love, she had no idea. But six weeks later, feeling as if she had a bad case of the flu but suspecting worse in spite of their use of birth control, Grace had purchased a pregnancy test.

When it came back positive, Grace knew she had only two options. Since the first went against her beliefs about preserving human life, she started making inquiries about adoption. If she’d known Jack was in town, Grace would never have come back to Spruce Lake. Her fear that he would discover her secret was too great. She was sure her guilt was written all over her face.

“What’s up?” he asked. “Your face is flushed again.”

To prevent Jack from asking any further questions she stuck out her hand. “If I agree to your outrageous terms, do we have a deal?”

What was she saying? She couldn’t get out of town fast enough to prevent Jack from somehow discovering the truth, yet here she was agreeing to stay and help. Then again, it wasn’t like she had anything else to do for the next few months—so why not stay? She owed him that for making time in his schedule and she really needed to have the house restored before it completely fell to pieces. She couldn’t live with that sort of disgrace.

And besides, how hard could it be watching Jack working under the hot sun? Seeing him again, she couldn’t get rid of the notion they had unfinished business. Business that had nothing to do with the child they shared, but a whole lot to do with sex.

She’d kept her secret safe this long. She could keep it to herself a bit longer.

Jack took her hand and held it. “Deal.”

His hand felt warm and strong. Grace didn’t want to let it go. Where was Jack when she’d broken down at the hospital the other day? She was sure if she’d had his strong shoulders to lean on, she wouldn’t have had such a public meltdown.

Chapter Three

“Boss!”

They jumped apart at Al’s shout.

“I’m done with the estimate for the outside. I’ll leave the rest to you, okay?” he said. “Maria’s giving me hell about getting home for dinner with the kids tonight.”

“Sure, sure,” Jack said. “Stop by Mrs. Carmichael’s and pick up a big bunch of flowers for that wonderful wife of yours.” Jack drew his cell out of his pocket. “I’ll call Mrs. C. She’ll be waiting outside her shop.”

Al’s face broke into a wide smile. “I knew there was a reason I worked for a slave driver like you!” He saluted Grace. “Bye, ma’am.” A moment later he disappeared through the front door.

Grace listened while Jack called the florist. He seemed to be close to her since he could order flowers over the phone without credit card details. And have the woman waiting outside her shop to hand Al a bouquet as he drove by!

Jack hung up and said, “Now, how are you going to cure me of this itching? And please don’t say it’s bedbugs!”

* * *

GRACE LAUGHED. JACK LOVED the sound of it, deep-throated and sexy as hell. He’d been a hormonal teen when he’d first laid eyes on Grace in his English class fifteen years ago. He fell for her hard. After they started dating, he’d assumed they’d eventually marry, stay in Spruce Lake, have kids. He made a face at the memory of his teenage delusion.

Turned out she’d had other plans, ones that didn’t include him in her future.

During his time in the seminary, he’d worked hard to suppress his memories of her, his desire to hold her and make love to her again.

Grace touched his arm and he reveled in the warmth and silkiness of her fingertips on his skin.

“If I suspected you were suffering from bedbugs, trust me, I’d have hightailed it back to Boston.”

He tried to smile, but the thought that Grace might leave again filled him with dread.

“You have eczema.” Her voice became serious as she examined the angry red rash. Her hands felt warm on him. Too warm. Too good. “It’s not contagious and it’s easily curable. Do you suffer from allergies?”

“None that I know of. Why?”

“Because it’s often due to an allergic reaction, either to grasses or something you’ve been eating. Stress can set it off, too. Does asthma run in the family?”

“Mom has it, but nothing severe.”

“Uh-huh. Do you drink acidic juices, like orange, pineapple, stuff like that?”

“Not usually, but lately I’ve been swigging OJ as a pick-me-up.”

She nodded. “That’s about the worst thing you can do. I’ll make a list of foods to avoid and write you a prescription for a medicated cream. That should take care of it.”

“How can a Massachusetts doctor write me a prescription?”

“I took the precaution of getting licensed to practice in Colorado a couple of years ago, in case Aunt Missy was ever moves to a care home in Denver and needed me around for a while.”

He considered this, then said, “Doc Jenkins has given me creams before.”

“Probably not the right ones. Has he ever talked to you about your diet?”

Jack shook his head, tongue-tied because Grace was absentmindedly stroking the inside of his arm. Didn’t she know what it was doing to him?

“Doesn’t sound like much of a doctor to me.”

“You got that right. He should’ve retired years ago, but he’s the only family doc in town, so we’re stuck with him.”

“You mean to tell me, after all the years I’ve been away, there’s still only one doctor in Spruce Lake?”

Not wanting to imply that the town only attracted worn-out old coots like Doc Jenkins, he said, “There’s a couple of orthopedic guys who come for the winter. They do very well out of all the skiers and snowboarders who break their bones.”

“And if a woman would prefer to see a female doctor?”

“Then she has to go to Silver Springs.”

“Which, in spite of its proximity to Spruce Lake, is an inconvenience.”

“You could always set up practice here,” Jack suggested.

“I’m a pediatrician,” she said. “Not an OB/GYN.” Grace wandered into the kitchen and turned back to him. “If you want to do your estimate, I can swing by the pharmacy and get your cream.”

“Sounds good. But first you’d better tell me what you want done with the place.”

“We’ll get to that in a moment, but since you’re insisting I stay in town, I’d like to live here while you do the renovations.”

“Hoo, boy.”

“You seem to think that’s a bad idea.”

“Do you realize how much dust’ll be involved?”

“No.”

“That was a rhetorical question. Trust me, you’d be better off renting somewhere during the reno.”

“Since I won’t be earning an income while the renovations are going on, I don’t want to waste money on rent.”

“Yet you were about to embark on an expensive trip through Europe for a couple of months?”

“I seem to remember foolishly offering to pay you double your estimate to get the work done,” she said with a shrug.

Jack grinned. “Yeah, there is that.”

Grace flashed him one of her brilliant smiles and he said, “I wasn’t going to take you up on that, so go find somewhere else to live. People post ads at the supermarket all the time.”

“Great idea.”

“So how is it you came to inherit the house and not your father?” he ventured.

“I didn’t inherit it—I bought it from Aunt Missy years ago. You might remember we lived here rent-free in exchange for my dad taking care of the place.” She grimaced and Jack understood what Grace meant by it. The house could’ve been better looked after. Things had come to a head—there’d been accusations of money going missing and Grace’s parents had moved on. Grace had stayed to finish high school.

“I was the only person in the family who kept in touch with her. A couple of years after I graduated from med school she wrote and offered me a deal—I buy the house at a reduced rate and she could then afford to move into the Twilight Years. She wanted the house kept in the family. Aunt Missy knew full well that if she willed it to my father, he’d sell it and fritter the money away, so she came up with a plan. Since she was asset-rich but didn’t have a lot of savings after my parents fleeced her, and I’d started working and had enough for a down payment, I took out a mortgage and bought the place from Aunt Missy. It was a pretty sneaky way of keeping my father’s hands off both the house and the profit he’d make by selling it, but it’s what Missy wanted and I was happy to help her out. Aunt Missy moved into the Twilight Years and I rented out the house to help with the mortgage payments. When Missy died, my father flipped out because there was nothing for him in her will and he tried to get me to sign the house over to him. Forget it!”

Jack said, “You and Aunt Missy were sure cut from the same cloth. Smart as whips. And your relationship with your parents?”

“Not good. Not that it ever was. I worked hard to win that scholarship to a college so far away partly because I wanted to get away from them.”

* * *

IMMEDIATELY AFTER SHE’D said it, Grace wanted to take the words back. Jack would think she wanted to get away from him, too. But that was far from the truth.

She wished, for one fleeting moment, that when she’d discovered she was pregnant with Jack’s baby, they could have married, kept their child. But after weighing the pros and cons, she’d decided that if they followed that path, there was no way she’d be able to stay in college and keep up her grades. They’d have struggled financially for the rest of their lives. Grace had been there, done that with her parents and she had no intention of repeating their mistakes.

Her lip curled as she thought, Yet here you are, a dozen years later, with a rewarding career, a lot of money and no one to love. That’s some definition of success.

“I’m sorry your relationship never resolved itself, Grace. I couldn’t imagine not being part of a close family,” he said. “I love everyone in my family. And I love that all my brothers are married now and have wives and children. It’s the cycle of life.”

Grace smiled. “That is such a nice compliment to them. They’re very lucky to have someone like you in their lives.” If only I had someone who truly cared about me.

* * *

HER HEARTFELT WORDS filled Jack with warmth. He was about to ask her more about her family when Grace turned and headed toward the stairs.

“Now, what needs to be done up here?” she asked, heading to the second floor.

Jack caught her seconds before she put her foot though a broken board. “For a start, I replace some of these treads. I’ll show you which ones to avoid.”

“I’m impressed you can pick them out. They all look the same to me.”

Ignoring her compliment, he said, “I can put through an order for some oak tomorrow.”

Grace smiled. “You can really start that soon?”

“Provided you’re happy with my estimate, I can start on this first thing in the morning. At least make it safe to climb the stairs without breaking your neck.”

Grace frowned and said, “I guess I should talk about stress management. I don’t want you to work so hard you’ll end up feeling too stressed to finish the job.”

Deep in his heart, Jack knew he couldn’t walk out on Grace, couldn’t leave her and this magnificent house in the hands of another contractor. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’ll be an honor to work on a place like this.”

They took the last step onto the top landing. “Keep away from the railing. It’s loose,” he warned before they made their way toward the master bedroom.

* * *

GRACE STEPPED INTO her parents’ old bedroom but wasn’t prepared for the memories that assailed her. Aunt Missy had given up her beautiful bedroom with the view of the town for Grace’s parents to use. And they’d rewarded her by duping her out of her money. She turned away.

“You’ll want to talk to an interior designer,” he suggested.

“You don’t do that yourself?”

He shook his head. “No, I only perform miracles on the house itself. I know how I’d decorate, but I recommend consulting a professional.”

Grace nodded, impressed with Jack’s professionalism and attention to detail as she watched him make notes in a booklet.

“Now, the roof,” he said. “The insulation—what’s left of it—should be replaced. And although the slates seem to be in pretty good condition, I noticed stains on the ceiling, which means water’s getting in. I’ll have a roofing contractor take a look.”

He made another note in the booklet, tore out the page and handed it to her. “This is the number of an interior designer I’ve worked with before. Get her out here as soon as you can. Feel free to use my name if you have to.”

Grace took the proffered paper. “I’ll see if she can meet me here tomorrow morning.”

“That might be pushing it, but I’ll mark the loose steps as we go out, in case she comes when I’m not here.”

“Thank you. That’s very thoughtful.” She followed him down the hallway and paused at the top of the stairs while Jack bent and marked each unsafe step with a piece of chalk.

“Careful,” he cautioned as he reached to take her hand. “It’s darker than when we came in. I’ll get the power connected tomorrow.”

He glanced at his watch. “How about if you go to the pharmacy while I finish measuring?”

“I’m on my way.”

* * *

GRACE RETURNED TO the house thirty minutes later. Jack was sitting on the front porch, once more scribbling in his notebook. The way he bent his head, the book resting on his forearm, brought back memories of him at school, struggling to read a passage in class.

She knew he hated having to read out loud or do oral presentations. Some of the kids had laughed at him when he stumbled over the words. She’d guessed he was dyslexic and felt some of his pain. Grace knew what it was like to be different. She’d hush the other kids, turning to glare at them, surprised when they’d complied. After that, she’d volunteered for peer tutoring.

Jack got up and walked over to meet her as she climbed out of her rental. She handed him the pharmacy bag, saying, “The instructions for use are on the package. Stop the orange juice and I’ll check your progress in the morning.”

Jack pulled out his wallet, but she stopped him. “It’s on me. Consider it gratitude for agreeing to this project on such short notice.”

Jack glanced at his watch again, leaving Grace with the uncomfortable feeling that he had better things to do than spend time with her. “I’ve got a dinner engagement, so I should go,” he said. “If there’s nothing more you need to discuss tonight, I’ll head out.”

Sorry he had a date and miffed that he hadn’t asked her out instead—although why should he, given their history?—Grace shuddered at the sense of melancholy she felt. She hated this time of day between dusk and dark. She didn’t like being alone then.

After the divorce, the friends she thought she could count on were more faithful to Edward than to her. Understandable since most of them had been his friends first. He’d kept her so isolated, she’d had little chance to cultivate true friendships for herself. She knew no one outside the medical world apart from her hairdresser and Pilates instructor. How pathetic is that? she thought.

“You okay?” he asked, his eyes reflecting his concern.

Grace forced a smile. “Just tired. It’s been a hell of a week. I need to check into my hotel in Silver Springs, take a long, hot shower and crawl into bed.”

“I’ll get that window repaired and new locks put on all the doors tomorrow, too.”

“Thank you for agreeing to renovate this house, Jack,” she said. “I really appreciate that you made room for me in your schedule.”

“I aim to please.” He began to walk to his truck, then paused and turned back. “If you don’t have any plans, would you like to come to dinner at the ranch tonight? Mom won’t mind another mouth to feed. I’m sure my folks would love to see you.”

Taken aback by the unexpected invitation, and the implication that there was neither wife nor girlfriend in the picture, Grace could only stumble over her words. “Er, no, not tonight, Jack, thanks.” She covered an exaggerated yawn. “As I said, I’ve got some sleep to catch up on, and calls to make.” She held up the slip of paper he’d given her.

“See you tomorrow, then,” he said. “And don’t forget, come dressed to work, not to party.”

He gave Grace a long look that took in her too-short dress and left those welcome tingles racing up and down her spine.

* * *

“DUMB, JACK, DUMB!” He hit the wheel and berated himself as he drove down Lincoln and turned onto Main. What was he thinking, inviting Grace to dinner with the family? Now she’d know there wasn’t a girlfriend in the picture. He almost wished he did have a significant other in his life, just to show Grace he’d moved on, forgotten about her. But that would be a complete lie.

He wondered what had really brought her back to Spruce Lake, since she’d made her career such an important part of her life. So important that she’d left Spruce Lake—and him—without a backward glance.

But most of all, he wondered why she was no longer married.

Chapter Four

When Jack arrived at Two Elk, the family ranch, that evening, the front yard was already crowded with his brothers’ vehicles.

The babies and toddlers would all be tucked into beds and travel cots, in a first-floor bedroom. The older kids would be watching TV or playing games somewhere in the big house.

Inside he found Will and Becky’s son, Nick, and Carly and Adam’s boys playing a video game in the living room. “Hi, guys,” he greeted them, and got grunts in return. They were all enthralled with their game and allowing themselves to be sidetracked would mean they could lose.

“Hi, Uncle Jack!” Luke’s daughter Daisy called as she breezed through the room, followed by the clatter of feet on the stairs as her sister Celeste raced down to greet him.

“We’ve been waitin’ ages ’n’ ages for you!” Celeste told him. “Daddy says you’ve got a girlfriend.”

Hoo, boy! The O’Malley telegraph was fully operational. He could picture it now—his parents and all his brothers and their wives lying in wait for him around the kitchen table.

He pushed open the kitchen door and saw that the situation was exactly as he’d suspected. Conversation ceased and eleven pairs of eyes swiveled in his direction. Even his nephew, Cody—who at seventeen was old enough to join the adults—was staring at him.

His mom looked at him expectantly. She leaned sideways a little as if to see whether anyone was following him.

“Hi, Mom. Sorry I’m late,” he said as he crossed the room and bent to kiss her cheek. He should have brought flowers; they might have distracted her for a whole millisecond.

“Pop.” He shook his father’s hand, then made the rounds, exchanging kisses and handshakes.

They all sat down and looked at Jack.

After a full five seconds of silence, Will asked, “So where’s Grace?”

“At her hotel.” Jack glared at Adam. No secret was safe with an O’Malley.

“You should’ve invited her to dinner, dear,” Sarah said, her voice filled with disappointment. “I made extra.”

“Mom. Everybody,” he said, looking at each relative in turn. “As you’re no doubt aware, Grace is back in town. I’ve agreed to renovate the house she bought from her aunt Missy. End of conversation.” He snatched up a bread roll and tore it in two. “I’m starving, Mom. What’s for dinner?”

“That’s it?” Sarah said as she placed bowls of fluffy mashed potatoes on the table, along with a huge salad. His father got up to carve a roast. Pop loved roast.

Sarah took her seat at the other end of the table. “That’s it?” she asked again. “You’re not going to pick up where you two left off?”

“Mom! Please.” He softened his tone, seeing the hurt in his mother’s eyes. “She just got back here. I need to come to terms with that.” He passed a plate loaded with slices of roast beef down the table.

“He’s got a point,” Matt, who was the county sheriff, said. “Grace Saunders broke my little brother’s heart. I might go arrest her and throw her in jail until she makes a full confession of her sins.”

“You just made a joke,” Will observed. “A pathetic one, but it’s not bad for you, big brother.”

Everyone knew that Matt took life way too seriously, in free-spirited Will’s opinion. “So where’s she staying?” Will asked. “I’ll ride shotgun.”

“This is not the Wild West anymore,” Will’s wife, Becky, admonished. “But, if you’d like, I could beat her to a pulp with my interrogation tactics. Find out why she left a great guy like you. And why she really came back to Spruce Lake.”

Jack smiled at Becky. She wasn’t known for joking, either. “I appreciate your loyalty, but the truth is, she really has come back to renovate Missy Saunders’s Victorian.”

“And then she’s going to flip it,” Adam said with conviction as he piled mashed potatoes onto his plate.

“Grace is renovating it to save it from further ruin. She won’t be selling it. The house has to stay in the family.”

He turned his gaze back to Adam. “Have you remembered who Mike is yet?” he asked, then muttered, “Traitor,” under his breath.

Carly grinned and said, “Jack, there’s really no hurry to start building our house. For the moment, I’d prefer to stay closer to the hospital. And town. If Adam was on duty and I went into labor, at least he’d be close by.”

“Not that he’d be any use,” Luke, their oldest brother, said.

“Eat, everyone!” Sarah instructed. “Before it gets cold. We can ask Jack about his intentions toward Grace over dessert.”

Jack groaned. And to think half an hour ago he’d been singing the praises of his close-knit family. He should’ve begged off coming here tonight, although, that would only have delayed the inevitable. When he and Grace were dating in high school, his parents and brothers had welcomed Grace into their lives. They’d been almost as devastated as he was when she’d accepted the scholarship to the college in Boston, and turned her back on Spruce Lake—and him.

While Grace seemed to have her life carefully mapped out, Jack had drifted from the peace corps to college, and then entered the seminary, believing that that was where he could best help others. But he’d felt there wasn’t enough time for those genuinely in need. That was why he now helped train homeless and troubled youth in carpentry, to give them a skill, a job, a future. It was satisfying and both physically and emotionally exhausting, but Jack wouldn’t have it any other way.

Thankfully, the focus was now off him as everyone ate and chatted about other topics. Next to him, Becky said, “I’d like to meet Grace sometime. I promise not to interrogate her.”

Jack took a swig of beer and said, “I’d like to believe that, Becky. But I’ve seen you at social functions. Within five minutes of meeting someone, you know their name, occupation, hopes, dreams, likes and dislikes down to the most trivial facts of their existence.”

“I do not!”

“Yeah, you do, sweetheart,” Will said.

Everyone around the table murmured agreement. Becky harrumphed, then whispered to Jack, “Will told me a little about Grace. It sounds like she and I had a similar upbringing. I thought we could be friends. Maybe I could help ease her back into life in Spruce Lake.”

Immediately Jack felt bad for misjudging Becky. She and Grace had both had fathers who were bums, they’d both moved around a lot growing up, they were supersmart and they’d won scholarships to college. And they were both divorced. Except Grace didn’t have a child from her ill-fated marriage.

He said, “I’m sorry, Becky. You’re right, of course. How about swinging by the old house tomorrow and I’ll introduce you.”

* * *

GRACE FLOPPED BACKWARD onto the bed in her hotel room. She hated hotels, their transient nature, accommodating you for a night or two and only too glad to see you on your way. That was why, when Jack had made the deal that meant she had to stay, she’d wanted to move into the house. To feel as if she had a home here until the renovation was finished and she went back to Boston.

She’d moved in with Edward when they got married, only buying a place of her own after the divorce. They’d kept their money separate, which meant she’d saved a lot, but she’d also spent a lot on holidays of Edward’s choosing.

“Fool!” she muttered. How gullible she’d been to sign a prenup that stated she was responsible for all her own expenses! She’d thought that meant her makeup and clothes, but once she was earning she was also responsible for her share of airfares, hotels and grocery bills. Edward would use his credit cards to purchase things, then bill her for her share. When she’d pointed out that he was claiming all the credit card reward points accrued for himself, he’d flown into such a rage she’d dropped it. She’d only realized years later that she’d been in an emotionally abusive relationship.

Grace blew out a breath, lifting her bangs off her forehead. She’d been so naive, marrying a man like that. “Never again!” she vowed, and headed to the shower.

Fifteen minutes later, she was in bed, after calling Marcie, the interior designer, and arranging to meet her at the house in the morning. Next, Grace reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet. She removed the photograph she kept there, tucked away where no one else could see it.

The photo had become worn around the edges over the years, so Grace had laminated it. She studied her newborn daughter. In the picture Grace was holding her close and gazing down at her, but Amelia was looking right at the camera, a tiny frown on her face.

Grace kissed the photo and returned it to her wallet, then closed her eyes and thought of what tomorrow would bring. More of Jack, she hoped. How different would her life have been if she’d stayed in Spruce Lake and married him? And kept their baby?

Chapter Five

When Grace arrived at the house at eight-thirty the following morning with Marcie Mason in tow, Jack had already replaced the broken windowpane, ordered the materials necessary to start the job and was just signing for a consignment of oak to fix the broken stair treads.

He gave one of his men a list of door and window locks to order, then went to meet the two women.

“Hi!” Grace greeted him as she alighted from her sleek red rental. “You fixed the window already!”

Jack ignored the instant effect Grace had on him, instead giving her a rundown of what had been achieved so far. “I’ve marked the steps that need replacing,” he told them, “but be careful. If you don’t mind, I’ll leave you ladies to it, while I get on with making the new stairs.”

Grace led the way to the second floor, chattering with Marcie like they were old friends. Satisfied, Jack set to work, doing a final measure of the treads.

Twenty minutes later, the two women were moving about the main floor, taking measurements and discussing color schemes.

Marcie disappeared into the kitchen, and Grace paused beside Jack. “She seems very competent,” Grace said.

“More so than you,” he said, nodding at her outfit. “I thought I told you to come dressed for work.” He regretted the words the moment he said them. Being rude to Grace to cover his discomfort wasn’t right.

“I was meeting an interior designer! I didn’t want her getting the wrong impression of me.”

“And what impression would that be?”

“That I let my contractor boss me around?”

“I’m so glad you made that a question,” he said. “Once she leaves, you need to go buy a pair of boots like these.” He indicated his heavy, steel-toed work boots.

Grace stared at them in horror. “You must be joking!”

“Nope. They’re a health and safety requirement. And my requirement—which you agreed to, is that you pitch in and help. Remember?”

Grace screwed up her face. “Stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

“Yup. And by the way, here’s my estimate. In spite of your haste to get me going on this project, I think it only fair you should know what to expect.”

Jack pulled several sheets of printed paper from his pocket and handed them to her. He watched as Grace scanned the pages, taking in all that needed to be done.

She looked up at last and said, “That’s an awful lot of money. More than I expected...”

“This is an awful lot of house that hasn’t been touched since it was built—apart from that eyesore of a seventies bathroom and kitchen renovation. This is the bare minimum it’ll cost to renovate the place into something you can be proud of. If you want a cheap job, there are contractors who’ll do it for you, but it won’t be me.”

“I don’t remember you being this forthright at school.”

“School was half our lifetimes ago. A lot has happened to both of us since then.”

* * *

IT SURE HAS, Grace thought. I had our baby, gave her away, then capped it off by marrying a complete Svengali—all to get away from my family, and what have I got to show for it?

“Something wrong?” Jack asked.

Grace snapped back to the present. “No, everything’s fine. Just don’t order me around too much, okay? I need to find my own pace.”

Jack frowned, but before he could ask about that revealing statement, Marcie reappeared.

“All done,” she said. “I hope you accept my estimate, Grace. It’d be an honor to work on this place. It might even get a mention in the Digest of American Architecture.”

Jack groaned.

“What’s wrong with that?” Grace demanded. “It’s a very prestigious publication.”

“Sorry, Jack,” Marcie said. “I forgot about the fallout the last time you were featured in it.”

Intrigued, Grace glanced from one to the other. “What? What?” she demanded.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Marcie said, packing her notebook and tape measure into her briefcase. She waggled her fingers at them as she dashed through the front door.

Grace spun around to Jack. “Well? What was that about?”

“I got a bunch of, uh, fan mail when I was in that magazine a few years back.”

“Which must have led to a lot of work for you. That’s good!” she said, immensely pleased that her contractor was so talented he’d been featured in the magazine. Just wait until Edward and his horrible family saw her home in an upcoming issue! He’d tried to have their house highlighted several years ago, but the publication had rejected his bid. Probably because their mansion was more like a mausoleum than a home.

“All it led to was a lot of work dodging enthusiastic women. And some men,” he said.

Grace started to giggle.

“Don’t laugh! It was really distracting when so many people showed up at the work site asking for me. Luckily, Al fended most of them off.”

“Most of them?” Grace nearly choked she was laughing so hard.

“Why is this so funny?” he demanded.

“Because you seem so unaware of your looks,” she responded. “I guess I missed that issue. Tell me how they posed you for the photograph.”

Jack widened his stance and crossed his arms.

Grace flushed. Jack’s biceps, broad shoulders, black hair and vivid blue eyes made a pretty devastating combination. “I can see why you got so much fan mail,” she said.

Jack scowled. “I wasn’t posing like this,” he said. “I’m crossing my arms because I’m refusing to discuss it.”

“Wow! That must’ve been some photo,” she said. “I’m going to look it up online.” Grace slung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the front door.

“Wait!”

She turned to see Jack blushing to the roots of his hair.

“It was that good, huh?” she teased.

“No, it was stupid. The photographer asked me to change. The photo they published was of me taking off my old shirt. It looked like a cheesy striptease.”

Trying to lighten the situation she said, too flippantly, “No wonder you got so much attention. From both sexes.”

“It wasn’t funny at the time. And it still isn’t. I take my work seriously.”

Grace schooled her expression. Jack really felt hurt and she needed to respect that.

Changing the subject, she asked, “So, how are the rashes this morning?”

“Much better. I’ve quit the orange juice, and the cream is giving me a lot of relief.” He rolled up his sleeve to show her. “Looks fifty percent better already.”

Grace brushed his inner elbow with her fingertip. She noticed him flinching. Surely Jack wasn’t that unused to a woman’s touch?

A sudden wolf whistle surprised her and she jumped back from him, searching for the culprit.

“Tyrone!” Jack shouted.

A lanky black youth sauntered over, grinning from ear to ear. “Yes, boss?” he said.

“Don’t ever do that to a client again. In fact, to any woman. It’s disrespectful. Now apologize to Dr. Saunders.”

The kid raised one finger to his head in a salute. “Sorry, ma’am.”

Jack turned to Grace. “This is Tyrone. He’s one of my apprentices, and since he’s only been here a couple of weeks, he hasn’t been fully house-trained yet.” He cuffed the kid gently on the shoulder and said, “Get back to work.”

“Sure, boss, and sorry again, ma’am.” Tyrone went back to planing some timber.

“Actually, I wasn’t all that offended. Especially since he’s just a harmless kid,” Grace said.

“Ten weeks ago that kid was serving time in juvie for pulling a knife on a shopkeeper.”

Grace paled. “Oh.”

Then she glanced around at the rest of the young men working on her house. They all seemed a little rough around the edges.

“I can see your mind working,” Jack said. “Let me assure you that underneath the tough exteriors, they’re just kids who need a chance.”

“And you know this because...”

“So far I’ve trained about forty kids who were either homeless or headed for jail. All of them now have jobs in the building trade all over the States. Some have even started their own businesses.”

“I had no idea you did this.”

Jack shrugged. “Why would you?”

“I, uh...” Grace’s life suddenly looked awfully shallow from where she was standing. What had she ever done to give back to the community? “Am I taking you away from helping them? By hiring you to work on my home?”

“Nope. This is the perfect project for them. Come and meet the rest of the guys. They don’t bite.”

Grace stayed where she was. “I feel a little foolish dressed like this when I’m supposed to be part of the crew. Should I change into work clothes first?”

“No, it’s better they meet you in all your prissiness, and then when you get changed they’ll realize you’re human, too.”

Grace rolled her eyes at his mild chastisement. “Okay, then. Lead the way,” she said.

They went inside and up the stairs where one of the boys was working on her banister railings.

“Dr. Saunders, meet Zac. He’s been with me for over a year and is shaping up to be a fine carpenter.”

“Please, call me Grace,” she said, offering her hand to Zac, a short, bespectacled kid whom Grace couldn’t imagine ever being in trouble with the law. He seemed too...normal. Or was she just seeing the glasses and equating them with being studious?

He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. Jack said you’re going to pitch in around the job site.”

He looked a little too long at Grace’s totally inappropriate attire and she felt it necessary to joke, “I guess heels are a no-no?”

Zac shrugged. “Whatever the boss says.”

Something crashed downstairs. She and Jack raced to the first floor to find dust billowing out of the kitchen. As it cleared, Grace saw that half the cabinets had been torn from the wall.

A huge man stood in the midst of the debris.

“This is Ace. He specializes in demolition,” Jack said with a wry smile.

“Grace,” she said, shaking hands with the tall, well-built young man sporting tattoos on his arms and shoulders.

“This your house, ma’am?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, taking in the wreckage. The old seventies cabinets were hideous, but at least they’d hidden the wall. Now that it was exposed, she could see it was covered in years of built-up grime.

“Ace has only been with me a couple of weeks, so I’m not letting him near the power tools yet.”

Ace grinned, revealing a missing front tooth. Grace feared he’d be missing some digits if he went anywhere near a power tool.

“My other two apprentices have a couple of days off. They’re my most experienced men, and one of them will be taking Ace under his wing.”

“I thought you were going to be working on my house,” Grace said.

“I will. But I’m a contractor, which means I have a lot more to do than hammering nails and cutting lumber. I teach the guys and do the finer work myself. Al is the foreman and he keeps an eye on them. Don’t worry, your house is in good hands—the entire crew just finished building a new house. Renovating a Victorian is a real challenge and they’re all up for it.”

They walked outside, escaping the sound of more crashing as Ace got back to cabinet demolition.

A truck with a Dumpster on its flatbed was looking for a parking space farther down the street.

“It would help if you moved your car,” Jack pointed out. “Go change and I’ll see you back here in an hour. No later, okay?”

“Who exactly is the boss here?” she demanded.

“I am,” Jack said unequivocally. “And what I say goes. You’re just the owner. Now get going.”

If he hadn’t said it with a smile, Grace might have been offended. Instead, she bustled to her car and waved at the Dumpster delivery guy to indicate he could have her spot.

* * *

JACK SHOOK HIS HEAD as Grace drove away. Already he regretted his request that she roll up her sleeves and pitch in. Working in such close proximity with Grace wasn’t one of his best ideas. Yet from the moment he’d laid eyes on her again, he’d wanted her back in his life. But he needed to forgive her first.

Forgiveness didn’t come easily to Jack, in spite of his time in the seminary. It might have had something to do with the two weeks he spent on life support after being assaulted and knifed by gang members. The memory of Jayden Tyler, the kid he’d tried so hard to save from the gang, walking away from him as he lay bleeding in that L.A. alley, had never stopped haunting him. The fact that someone he’d put so much faith in could be so callous still burned his guts.

Pushing the memories away, Jack went inside and ascended to the attic to check the roof for leaks.

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