Chapter 4
TUESDAY
TAYLOR RINSED OFF his dirty hands and sweaty face in the cool water from the hose Rich held out for him. Rich needed a part at the store and asked Taylor to ride along.
“Just like old times again, right Taylor?”
“Except my hands are too soft now.” Taylor turned his hands over to reveal a couple of blisters on each. He wasn’t afraid of hard work, but his brain did the heavy lifting these days.
“You’ll be back to your ol’ self in no time,” Rich said with a chuckle. “Are you one of the bachelors for the auction?”
Taylor ran a hand through his hair and blades of grass fell to the ground. He shook his head a couple of times to dislodge leaves and dirt as well. “Not so lucky. What about you?”
“My wife wouldn’t like that.” Rich turned off the water.
“Uh, you don’t have a wife.”
“Someday I might.” He slapped Taylor on the back. “Dadgum it was good to see you, again. I might need more of your help later, if you’re willing.”
“I’d like that.”
“Since I don’t have your number, I’ll ask Chelsey to call you. I’m sure she has it.”
“I’m not sure…” Taylor started to say, but Rich’s long strides took him straight to his beat up ‘71 Chevy truck in two seconds.
He reached in the window to open the door from inside, bracing his feet on either side of the holes in the floor as he tried to avoid the exposed springs in the seats.
“This truck is in the same exact shape as when I was in high school.”
“Nope.” Rich’s light gray eyes twinkled when he pointed to the spot where his 8-track used to be. A cassette player took up the hole. “I got a new radio.”
“That’s not new, Rich.”
He shrugged. “It is to me. I might even upgrade to a CD player one day.”
The truck sputtered to life and roared out of the parking lot. It sounded like the muffler was still missing. Less than an hour later, they had the water pipe fixed. Rich claimed he had a date with a steak and left with another slap on Taylor’s back.
Taylor tried to brush off the spots of mud on his shirt, but he only made matters worse. He had an appointment with Dan soon and the mayor and city planner in a couple of hours which left him just enough time to make it to his parents’ home for a quick shower and to drop off his travel bags.
Chelsey came through the back door, her face pink. “Have you seen Wendy?”
But he could help her. “What’s wrong?”
“OSHA violations.” She cast a glare over her shoulder at a thin, nervous man wiping his forehead with his tie.
“Go ahead,” Chelsey said to Taylor as she paced in front of him. “Read it out loud. It’s the most absurd thing—”
“No proper washing sinks.”
“There are three,” Chelsey interrupted.
“Batteries dead in alarm.”
“Only one.”
“Dust on the handrail.” At this one, he glanced at the inspector. “Really?”
Taylor had worked with inspectors hundreds of times. These violations were small, annoying and petty. Taylor could easily fix them himself in a couple of hours. Who called OSHA on Chelsey? Was there someone trying to stop the auction?
The inspector handed Chelsey a glossy card. “This is the number to call when you’re ready. Appointments are set out about a week.”
“A week?” Chelsey’s jaw clenched. “We can’t put this off. This auction is to raise money to build shelters for vets. Small houses that will give them a sense of ownership and hopefully help them get back on their feet.”
The inspector wiped his face with his hand. “I was called by a member of the city council and told this was an emergency.”
Taylor calmly looked the man over. “And you were able to come in an hour’s notice?”
“I, uh, had a space open.” He cleared his throat. “At least you know everyone will be safe.” The man did a little awkward bow and hurried out the door to a grimy minivan.
“Safe from what? Dust mites?” Chelsey asked as Taylor handed the paper back to her. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Would you mind if I helped? Took this off your plate? I’ve dealt with them before. I know what they’re looking for.”
Chelsey studied Taylor’s face. What did she see there? He was mesmerized by Chelsey’s eyes, just like the first time he’d seen them. Right now, they were a darker blue and a little line appeared between her eyebrows. Taylor folded his arms over his chest and his racing heart.
“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” she said quietly and handed the paper back to him.
“I won’t disappoint you.”
Ouch. Taylor winced inwardly and barely restrained himself from smacking his palm to his forehead. Bad word choice. He excelled at disappointing Chelsey. Why should she begin to trust him now?
And possibly more disturbing: Why did he really want her to?
Her gaze sharpened on him. “I’ll hold you to your word.”
Taylor winced, but Chelsey didn’t seem to notice as she hurried back inside. He gave his word to Chelsey seven years ago and had broken it. He was determined not to let her down again.