Chapter 2
A little morethan a week later, at exactly 7:00 a.m. on a Sunday, Berkley had just finished hosing down the dog runs when the sound of a loud power tool suddenly had all the dogs howling. Six of them. Well, seven counting Hero.
“What in the world?” She’d thought surely she was the only one up and working so early on a weekend. Of course, weekend or weekday, it didn’t matter when there were animals who needed tending.
Each and every one of her days, rain or shine, hot or cold, started at 5:00 a.m. Before Betty had hired her to run this shelter, she’d worked at another location where the regular director was often missing. She hadn’t minded too much because he had never done things the way she’d preferred. When she’d made the decision to relocate to Cemetery, she’d first found a wonderful replacement for herself—and she’d ensured the director was removed.
Now she was in charge, and she absolutely loved it. Everything would be under her guidance, which meant the animals would always get the very best care. That included rising early to get them fed and give them fresh water. She spent a little time playing with each of the dogs so they wouldn’t feel too lonely, then they were let outside in their individually contained areas while she hosed down their spaces and prepped fresh bedding.
And of course, fresh bedding meant laundry to do, but she had a volunteer who helped with that three times a week as long as there were no big messes. Another volunteer came by every other day to take a turn walking the dogs and brushing the cats. Her two part-time workers assisted with everything else, including the paperwork to show that each animal had been vaccinated and treated for worms and parasites. There were also the records for intakes and, hopefully soon, adoptions.
For a new shelter, it was a busy place, but the cacophony of dogs yapping and cats meowing was music to her ears. It was only the whines of fear—or worse, pain—that could destroy her. Her heart ached to even think of the numerous times she’d dealt with that.
Some people didn’t deserve animals.
When the noisy power tool roared again, Hero gave a hearty bark, a sound she chose to mean curiosity. “I know,” she said. “It’s odd to hear when we should be relatively alone.” Odd, and slightly alarming. Pulling off a glove, she bit at a thumb nail and considered what to do. No one else was around right now. A glance up showed that sunrise had painted the sky in tangerine hues that would soon lighten to gold before giving way to the brightest blue.
Berkley loved it here, the isolation of her small house and the brand-spanking-new shelter surrounded by trees. Somewhere in the distance, the lake curved into a cove. She couldn’t see it, but the scents of the water sometimes carried through the woods.
Hero waited expectantly, so she said, “It’s probably a county worker taking care of a phone line or cable or something. Let me finish up here and then we’ll investigate.”
She and Hero often liked to romp around the woods, exploring interesting things like mushrooms and tiny wildflowers, frogs, snails and skinks.
The noise continued as she completed her morning chores. Hunger tried to divert her—she hadn’t yet had breakfast—but seeing how anxious Hero had become, she washed her hands, hooked the leash to the dog and set out. She’d be back in a few minutes and then she’d get a bowl of cereal or something.
Without makeup or her usual array of earrings, her hair stuffed into a ball cap, she ventured into the woods. Morning dew left the ground damp while the rising sun filtered through the trees, providing shadows that shifted around her.
Hero didn’t do his usual investigation of every weed, rock and leaf. Instead, the muscular dog made a beeline for the sound that grew louder with every few feet they traveled.
Since getting settled into her house, she hadn’t ventured off quite this far and now she had second thoughts. That was, until the tree line opened onto a cleared property and she saw a man, shirtless, shorts drooping over trim hips, using a chain saw on a downed tree.
A funny thing happened to her. She admired him.
That tall, honed body, the flex of biceps as he handled the heavy saw, the firm set of his jaw...
“Lawson?” She’d barely breathed his name, a mere whisper of surprise, so it was unfortunate that he’d released the chain saw trigger at the same time.
Suddenly aware that he was no longer alone, he turned his head.
From the distance of twenty feet or so, they stared at each other. At first she saw confusion, and then recognition.
“Berkley?” He straightened, inadvertently showing off that powerful body as if it were nothing. A light dusting of brown hair covered his chest, sweat-damp in places despite the mild temps of the morning air.
Her breath shuddered in, but good God, the man was half-naked. For years now, she’d made a deliberate effort to avoid situations like this, and here she’d just blundered into one. “Hi.” Pathetic. She supposed the weak greeting was better than Hero’s effusive welcome. The dog’s entire body jiggled with the need to run to his new friend.
After glancing around, like maybe he thought she’d brought others along, Lawson zeroed in on her again. He set the chain saw aside, ran a forearm over his face and asked, “What are you doing here?”
His question galvanized her. Shaking off her aberrant admiration, she came forward with a lot of attitude. “That should be my question to you.”
With obvious confusion, he shook his head. “I live here.”
Abruptly stopping, she almost tripped over her own feet. Hero continued on, and that meant she got dragged reluctantly forward so that the dog could greet Lawson with eagerness bordering on adoration.
“You can’t live here.” Absurd. That would put him right behind the shelter...and her own house. How could she avoid him if he was so close?
Smiling, he knelt to welcome Hero with a few rousing pets and even a hug. “Good to see you, too, bud.” Then in a loud whisper, he asked, “What’s she pissed about this time?”
Berkley started to reply, but then it dawned on her that she was a wreck. Worse than a wreck. Without her makeup and jewelry, her usual hairstyle, she felt exposed. Raw. Like that same young girl from years ago.
She wasn’t even wearing a bra.
The urge to fold her arms over her chest nearly overwhelmed her. Automatically, her hand tightened on the leash and she blinked once, twice, three times, trying to gather her wits.
“Hey.” Lawson stood again. “You okay?”
Her audible swallow seemed to echo over the placid surface of the lake behind him. “I’m fine.” But she wasn’t. “Why wouldn’t I be?” No one saw her like this. Not since...
She abruptly turned away, then stopped again, stumped as to where to go, or even how to leave when she had a dog still worshipping at Lawson’s feet. Dragging the dog away would be unkind. Bracing herself, she tried to think of her next step.
“Want a drink?”
Aware of Lawson moving in the opposite direction, she peeked over her shoulder. Yup, that was him heading toward a building.
Or...a house? Overgrown shrubs and trees nearly hid it, so she hadn’t noticed it right off the bat.
Hero whined. Obviously, the dog wanted to follow him. “What is this?” she asked, taking a tentative step forward.
“I told you, I live here. I know it’s not much right now, but I got it for a steal and I’m fixing it up.” Bounding up to a wooden deck, he turned. “Want to come take a look around? I’ll pour some tea, or water, or I might still have a cola in the fridge.”
“You don’t know?” Curiosity had her trailing after him. It helped that he hadn’t even seemed to notice her near panic, or the fact that she was pared down to her old, insecure self.
Maybe his thoughts hadn’t made the same mental leap. Maybe, to him, she was still just boring Berkley, a girl hardly worth noticing—then or now.
The idea relieved her.
And oddly, it caused a stirring of resentment. She’d changed a lot, in every...okay, most...ways possible. To prove it to herself, she hitched her chin. “How can you not know what drinks you have?”
“I have other things on my mind.” Standing aside, he stretched out one muscular arm to hold open the wooden door.
Um, yeah. That long reach did interesting things to his chest and shoulders.
His gaze was on her, patiently waiting for her verdict.
It felt like a test, so screw it. She sidled past with Hero. Accidentally, on purpose, she inhaled the scent of warm, sweat-damp man mingled with the fresh outdoors. Intoxicating. That was, if she could be intoxicated...but she couldn’t, because for real, she didn’t care about men in that way anymore.
He brushed past her as he came in, leading the way through an empty living room that was definitely under construction, into a kitchen that appeared functional.
“So you worked on the kitchen first?”
“Enough to make it usable.” He grabbed a black T-shirt off the back of a chair and pulled it on.
Shame. Or maybe it was good. She’d done enough ogling this morning.
He opened a big white fridge and began rummaging around past numerous food bags.
“What is all that?”
“The bags? I get my dinner from Saul’s restaurant.”
“Wow. Looks like you really worked up an appetite.” His fridge was crammed full.
After a short laugh, he explained, “I buy enough to cover the whole week. Between the T-shirt shop and working here, I don’t have much time to cook. I buy seven entrées from Saul, along with a bunch of sides, then all I have to do is choose what I want and nuke my meal.”
Amazing. “What about breakfast and lunch?”
He found two waters, a Coke and a bottle of iced tea. After setting them all on the table, he said, “There’s a smaller fridge at the shop in town. I keep lunch meat and bread there. Breakfast is usually coffee and a protein bar.”
Okay, so that was how he stayed so ripped. He deprived himself of food while working all day. “Balanced meals are important.”
“I get by.” He nodded at the drinks. “Here are your choices. What do you think?”
She thought she didn’t want to take a single thing from him, given that’d leave him with less.
“Berkley,” he said, dragging out her name like a complaint. “You won’t leave me short on supplies. I have to be at the shop tomorrow morning and I’ll grab more drinks on my way home.”
Refusing him now would be rude, so she smiled and reached for a bottle of water. “Thanks.” Coffee would have been even better, but his carafe was empty. She tipped her bottle at the bare walls on one side of the kitchen “So what’s going on here?”
“Do you have a good imagination?”
Once, years ago, she’d imagined herself recovered from public scorn, a functioning, happy person, even when that dream had seemed far, far out of reach. Now, living here, that dream was reality. “Sure. Great imagination. Lay it on me.”
The curve of his mouth showed admiration. “The upper part of this wall, from here and including that small corner, will be white subway tiles, with the oven and stovetop here, a few cabinets and a dishwasher below. The sink will be in that corner. I’m taking out the rest of that wall and replacing it with sliders that’ll open to the side yard. The counter will be stained concrete.”
“Sweet. What color stain?”
“Dark brown, to reflect the window trim and wood flooring.”
She looked down and found rustic wood beneath her feet. “Huh. Original?”
He nodded. “I’ll replace a board or two, sand out the rough spots, then give it a fresh coat of stain, finished with polyurethane. Overall, the floor is in great shape.”
Getting into his description, she asked, “Stainless steel appliances?”
“The kitchen is small, so I figured white. They’ll blend with the cabinets and subway tile to make it feel bigger.”
“Love it. What else?”
“This old beat-up table.” He smoothed his hand over the marred surface. “It’ll be replaced with a bar and some stools to free up floor space and give a little more prep area.”
“Do you ever cook?”
“Not much. You?”
She was actually a great cook, and she enjoyed it, but for years she’d only had herself to care for. “Not often.” That should have been the end of her statement, but somehow more words tumbled out. “I can cook.” Damn it. “Not bragging, just saying.” Double damn. Defensively, she lifted her chin. “I’m actually good at it.” Just shut up. She clamped her lips together, determined to keep any further thoughts private.
“Maybe when my house is done, you can help me celebrate, like a housewarming gift or something, by fixing dinner here. Sort of break in the place.”
Appalled by the invitation, she opened her mouth, but she had no idea how to decline.
He saved her by moving on with a quick smile. “How about I show you around? It’s coming together, but you’re the first person to see it.”
He seriously didn’t seem to notice that she was a mess today, or that she was babbling about things she’d rather not discuss.
She dredged up a shrug. “Sure, as long as you don’t mind Hero snooping around, too.”
“Not at all.” Lawson paused. “He doesn’t mark his territory or anything, does he?”
Fighting a grin, she replied, “Only outside.”
“Yeah, well, he can piddle on all the trees and rocks he wants. Maybe it’ll keep the raccoons away.” He went down a hallway, then stopped at a door. “Guest bath.”
She peered around him. “Wow, it’s bigger than I expected.”
“I hear that a lot.”
It took her a second, but the double entendre sank in, and when she glanced at him—standing far too close as they both crowded into the bathroom doorway—she saw his mischievous grin and the humor in his light brown eyes.
Huffing a laugh, she said, “Men! You’re all braggarts.” Dear God. Did I just make a joke about male anatomy? Unheard of. In her experience, men weren’t funny. Absurd, maybe. Often obnoxious.
Sometimes total heartless dicks.
A rush of heat poured through her system, making her skin burn and her throat tighten.
Smoothly, Lawson said, “I got rid of the tub to make the room feel bigger. The white tiled shower and glass door help with the illusion.”
Doing her best to recover—again—she said, “You must be a neat freak to be able to keep all this white clean.”
Looking her in the eyes, he said, “I grew up in the same place you did, Berkley. Maybe the inside of your house was a little nicer, but in ours, nothing was ever white, or even clean for that matter. The way my folks smoked, nicotine layered everything we owned. On humid days, it dripped from the ceiling. When I left, I decided I’d never live like that again.”
The words, said dispassionately, still carried an emotional punch. He’d always been so confident that even as a high school boy he’d stood out. There’d been the people like her, those just trying to survive. Pitiful and sometimes desperate. The many addicted to drugs and alcohol. And the bullies and thugs, taking advantage of others. The abusers.
And there’d been Lawson Salder...in a league all his own.
In some indefinable way, he’d boldly owned his space, unbothered by the threats around him, neither joining the gangs nor inflicting cruelty on the vulnerable.
He’d seemed so above it all, she’d never considered how their shared beginning might have affected him—which was maybe selfish of her, because he was right. The street they’d lived on had been filthy, in ways beyond the aesthetics.
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded his acceptance. “I’m not fanatical about being clean,” he said, “and when you see the bedroom, you’ll know I’m messier than some.”
See his bedroom?
“I like organization. I like things to be bright.” His gaze met hers. “I shook off the grime and stench of the past long ago.”
She’d tried to do the same, damn it, but for her, that big scandal had left an indelible mark, a jagged scar—whether he could see it or not.
As if she weren’t standing there ruminating about the past, he walked on. “Down here are two other bedrooms, although they’re empty right now and will probably stay that way until everything else is done. Not like I have overnight guests.”
Was he, like her, without family now? The things they had in common were starting to add up. Yet, the ways in which they differed were vast.
“These stairs lead to my bedroom and a much smaller private bathroom. Those are already done.” Watching her intently, he asked, “Want to go up?”
Hero hurried forward. Clearly, the dog was all for more exploring, yet she held back. She shouldn’t want to see the rest of his house, but she did.
It disconcerted her how Lawson made talking about the past seem so easy, just tossing it out there like a grocery list or the weather from last week. She’d never been able to do that. For her, any mention of the past, even thinking of it, still caused her pain. Avoidance had been her way of coping.
Bury it, plant a tree on top, move on.
Only now, with Lawson here in Cemetery, it appeared that option had been snatched away.
Hero paused by the stairs and looked at her, probably unsure why they were standing in the hallway. Lawson waited calmly while she stood as motionless as a rabbit just sighted—before it bolted away.
Only she didn’t want to bolt. Not this time.
Something about Lawson’s approach to life, his “let’s just move on without making a thing of it,” helped to blunt the edge of her uneasiness. For the first time since arriving and finding him as a neighbor, she drew a full, deep breath.
When she released it, she said, “Lead the way.”
Damn, she impressed him.
Like a movie playing before him, Berkley’s thoughts had flitted over her face with picture-perfect clarity. She’d been tense since discovering him. Her expressive features were easy to read, but there were other clues as well, especially the rigid way she held her shoulders, as if bracing herself for negativity.
He still didn’t know what she’d been doing in the woods, and her obvious wariness pained him.
But he sure liked the look of her this morning.
Fresh, a little messy, her face clean of makeup and her cheeks flushed from her walk. Sometimes she seemed bold and confident, but then there were moments when she reminded him of the young girl she used to be, stuck in a horrid situation with a dying mother and public humiliation hanging over her head.
Acutely aware of her and Hero trailing behind him, Lawson reached the top of the open stairs and stepped aside. This room, along with the connecting bath, was the first he’d finished. He could deal with the construction mess below, tackling it day by day, envisioning how it’d look in the end.
But he’d never again sleep in a cramped, dingy space, with scratchy sheets that stunk of smoke and sweat.
“It’s not white,” she teased as she stepped into the room and looked around with awe. “You’re like a designer or something. Everything looks amazing.”
He ran a hand over the back of his neck, mildly uncomfortable with showing her his private dwelling. In fact, he wouldn’t have, except that he’d needed to do something to remove the shadows of sadness in her eyes. Why the hell had he taken offense at her “neat freak” comment? Dredging up the past hadn’t been his intent, and yet the words were out there before he could censor them. He didn’t discuss those days with anyone. Ever.
So why did it feel so natural with Berkley? Maybe because he knew she’d understand.
She meandered to the custom wall of windows and gazed out. “Such an incredible view.” Glancing back at him, she asked, “This is all new?”
He nodded. “The two standard windows didn’t cut it for me.” Now custom windows, cut to fit together, filled the entire wall all the way up to the peak of the cathedral ceiling. This space, more than any other, was strictly for him. His comfort, his retreat. It was all geared to match his personal preferences and habits.
“It’s like you’ve framed the lake.”
Exactly how he’d envisioned it. Smiling, he said, “At night I can see the stars.”
“And in the morning the sun blinds you?”
Teasing again? He did like seeing her in this mood, less defensive, more relaxed. “I’ve always been an early riser, so I don’t mind.”
“You’re awfully handy. You worked in construction?”
“Carpentry, but I’m a licensed electrician and plumber, too.”
“Holy smokes. Talent.”
He shrugged. Basically, he had experience with anything and everything he needed to know to restore a crumbling house.
“So why a T-shirt shop?” she asked, still strolling around the room with Hero close on her heels.
It was amusing that the dog seemed to show interest in anything that interested her. He really was a smart pooch.
“I’ve traveled a lot. All over the country and to different places around the world.”
She shot him a look. “No kidding?”
It wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, but he wouldn’t say that to her now, not with her opening up and honestly engaging. “That was the out for me. From where we both started, I mean.”
The second he mentioned it, her enthusiasm dimmed. Undaunted, he explained, “I signed on for some heavy construction, basically traveling wherever the company went. A lot of it was cleanup work after disasters, so from coast to coast.” He’d seen awful things. Death. Destruction. Desperation. Focusing on a better future had been his salvation, his way of coping with the day-to-day hardships.
Cautiously, she remarked, “Sounds like an adventure.”
Maybe to someone who liked to romanticize things. “The lodging wasn’t the best, but I kept to myself, got in as much work as I could and socked away a fair amount of money. Guess I caught on quick, because more opportunities kept pouring in.” He paused, thinking back over the years. “There are a lot of good people in the world. I don’t know about you, but I hadn’t really considered that.” He’d set out on his own carrying a massive chip on his shoulder and determined to do whatever was necessary to be different.
Different from his parents. From his hometown. From his upbringing and environment.
“Good men were patient with me, teaching me and...” Often praising him.
Honest to God, he’d liked how that felt. Before then, he hadn’t had much praise in his life.
Emotion twisted in his guts, but he tamped it down real fast.
Glancing around, trying to see the room through her eyes, he wondered what she really thought. “I wanted to soften it a little, you know? The white is great in other areas, but not here.” The pale gray rug nearly covered the entire hardwood floor, and his striped gray-and-tan comforter went with the rattan chair and gray bookcase. “A sterile setting didn’t seem right for sleeping.”
“I see your point.” She meandered over to his books. “You do a lot of reading?”
“More so than TV. It’s a great way to unwind in the evening.”
Picking up one heavy book, she quirked a brow in doubt and read the title aloud. “It Comes for You?”
“Edge-of-your-seat reading. Imagine an evil spirit that methodically terrorizes you, then feeds off your fear, growing stronger until he can devour you.”
She tucked in her chin. “I’d rather not.” Quickly, she put the book back in place. “I’d never be able to sleep if I read something like that.”
It struck him that her past and what she’d gone through were similar to the dark threat in the book. He’d found a way to move on, but was the same true for Berkley? He didn’t think so. Not entirely. “Fictional monsters don’t scare me.” Wishing he could get closer to her, that he could offer some comfort, he said quietly, “It’s the things real people can do that’s disturbing.”
She shot him a glance. “Yeah, well.”
The opening was there. She could talk about it with him, if only she would.
Her lips curled—and she dodged the opportunity. “Living alone in the woods hadn’t bothered me, but now I might be imagining all kinds of things.”
Living in the woods?So that’s how she’d showed up at his door? She had a place nearby?
Propping a shoulder on the wall, Lawson said, “I showed you mine. Will you show me yours?”
Those lively blue eyes, free of the dramatic makeup, flared wide.
“The shelter?” he clarified, while fighting a grin. She was so easy to bait. “Where you live?”
“Oh.” She touched a hand to her hat, adjusted it and nodded. “Sorry, I’m not at my best right now. With my outfit or my wits, apparently. My days start so early that I basically wash my face, brush my teeth and get to work.” She lifted the water bottle. “Would’ve been better if this was coffee, but I appreciate it all the same.”
“I started with the dawn, but didn’t think the noise would disturb anyone, since I didn’t know anyone else was around.”
“The shelter is on the other side of the woods, with my house next to it.” She walked over to look through the window facing his side yard. He knew she’d see his clothesline there, along with the laundry he’d hung out last night. “I’d been just about finished with chores and anxious for some breakfast when we heard your chain saw. Now I need sustenance to think clearly.”
He’d offer her something, but he wasn’t even sure what he had in the way of breakfast food.
“Finding you here...” She hesitated, then finally faced him, her manner once again guarded. “I mean, both of us being in Cemetery is shock enough. But neighbors? That seems like a really sucky twist of fate, don’t you think?”