Chapter 12
By Saturday afternoon, Mark had grease on his hands, a stubborn gate latch clamped to the workbench, and very little patience for anyone who walked into the maintenance shop carrying lumber if he or she looked too clean to belong anywhere near ranch work.
Jacob Whitley came in with three cedar boards under one arm and a rolled sheet of paper tucked beneath the other. His expression was one of serious intent, as if he hoped nobody asked too many questions.
Mark shut off the grinder and pushed his safety glasses up onto his forehead. “That doesn’t look like fencing.”
“It isn’t.” Jacob set the boards across the empty end of the workbench and brushed sawdust from his jacket. “I need to borrow your welding trailer.”
Mark looked from the cedar to Jacob. “For wood?”
“For the ironwork.”
Mark furrowed his brow. “What ironwork?”
Jacob unrolled the paper and weighed the corners down with a wrench and a coffee mug.
The sketch showed two upright posts, a gentle arch across the top, and simple metal scrollwork worked into the corners.
It wasn’t a gate. It wasn’t a stall front.
It wasn’t any kind of ranch repair Mark had ever seen.
He picked up the paper and studied it. “This is decorative.”
Jacob leaned one hip against the bench. “That sounded painful for you to say.”
No, not painful. It was only that every time he saw something decorative, even something not remotely related to Christmas, it made him think of Natalie. Lately, everything made him think of Natalie.
Mark pushed the thought away and tapped the sketch with one finger. “What is it?”
“An arbor.”
“For?”
Jacob glanced toward the open shop door, where ranch noise carried in from outside—engines, cattle, boots on gravel, someone calling across the yard. He waited until a couple of hands passed before answering. “Rachel.”
Mark lowered the sketch slowly as everything fell into place. “You’re proposing.”
Jacob didn’t deny it. He didn’t even look nervous. He looked almost pleased to have been caught. “That’s the plan.”
Mark looked from the arbor design to Jacob’s face and huffed a quiet laugh. “Well, I guess I should’ve seen that coming.”
“I’m hoping Rachel doesn’t suspect anything.”
Jacob picked up a tape measure from the bench without asking and stretched it along one of the cedar boards. “I want to set it up near the creek overlook, the spot where Sadie likes to throw rocks and tell me I’m doing it wrong.”
“That girl loves to tell people they’re wrong. She’ll make a wonderful cowgirl one day if you keep bringing her around.”
Jacob laughed. “Yeah, family tradition already, I suppose.” Jacob marked the board with a pencil. “I need the trailer because I want the iron corners welded before Thursday. I can do the wood myself, but actually… the metal will look better if you handle it.”
Mark reached for a rag to wipe grease from his hands. “You could buy an arbor or rent one so why are you building one?”
“I just think it would be nice, and if she likes it, who knows? Maybe we could use it for outdoor wedding pictures too. I just want it to be nice.” Jacob rolled the tape measure back into place and looked down at the sketch. “I like doing things for Rachel.”
There wasn’t much a man could say to that without sounding like a fool, so Mark reached for the drawing again and studied the supports. The design was simple but not weak. Jacob had thought it through.
Mark took the pencil from Jacob’s hand and X’d the lower cross support. “If kids climb this, and they will, you’ll need another brace here. Otherwise, the whole side will strain and wobble the first time Sadie decides the arbor doubles as a jungle gym.”
Jacob leaned closer, his shoulder brushing Mark’s as he examined the “X.” “That’s why you’re here.”
“To save your proposal from a six-year-old?”
“To make sure it lasts.”
Mark handed the pencil back. “I’m here because you brought decorative lumber into my shop and asked for help.”
“Same thing.”
Mark chuckled. “I suppose.”
Jacob grinned then reached for one of the metal pieces wrapped in canvas. When he unfolded it, Mark saw the start of a curved iron accent, rough-cut but workable. It wasn’t fancy or delicate, but it would suit Jacob and Rachel better than anything polished.
Mark ran a thumb along the edge. “This needs grinding before it goes anywhere near the welder.”
“I know.”
“Smart man.”
“That’s what Rachel says.”
Mark gave him a flat look. “You’re already impossible.”
Jacob laughed as he carried the iron piece to the vise. “I’ve been worse since I started dating her.”
“You say that like it’s a good thing.”
“It is.” Jacob tightened the vise and stepped back so Mark could take over. “I was grumpier before Rachel.”
“You were quieter.”
“Same thing some days.”
Mark pulled his safety glasses back down and started the grinder.
Sparks flew against the shield as he cleaned the rough edge, giving himself a few seconds where conversation wasn’t required.
Jacob had always been practical. Maybe a little stubborn.
Never reckless. Yet here he was, building an arbor, hiding plans, and arranging some proposal by the creek as if a man couldn’t wait until after Christmas and ask a simple question over coffee.
Then again, Jacob had never looked happier.
Mark shut off the grinder and inspected the edge. “Are you sure?”
Jacob didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Yes.”
“Rachel has Sadie. That’s not a small thing.”
“No, it’s not.” Jacob took the cleaned piece when Mark handed it over. “It’s one of the best parts.”
Mark looked at him then.
Jacob shrugged, but his face had softened. “I’m not marrying Rachel despite Sadie. I’m asking because I love both of them, and I want to build a life where that little girl never wonders if she belongs.”
Mark looked down at the latch still clamped to his bench. “That’s a lot to promise.”
“It is.” Jacob placed the ironwork on the sketch to check the curve. “I’m still going to promise it.”
Mark set the grinder down. “You’re wrong about one thing.”
Jacob’s expression sharpened. “About what?”
“Rachel. You said you’ve been worse since you started dating her.”
“Ah.” Jacob chuckled and smiled without shame.
“Yeah, not the case at all. She brings out the best in me, and I try to be the man she deserves. I love her so much. I’m not worried.
I’m not confused. This is right. I feel it in my bones.
I’ve been praying to know the right time, and that time is coming up. ”
Mark turned back to the gate latch and loosened the clamp.
He understood wood and steel, hinges and braces, weight and pressure.
He understood how to build something that could take use, weather, and time.
Jacob was talking about something stronger than that, and somehow, he sounded more certain than Mark felt about what he was having for supper.
Jacob picked up a second iron piece and carried it over. “Is Natalie coming to the Christmas dance on Friday?”
Mark nearly dropped the latch. “Why are you asking me?”
“Because everyone else is.”
“She’s coordinating part of it. Of course she’s coming.”
“With you?”
Mark tightened the clamp again and kept his eyes on the latch. “We haven’t discussed it.”
“Oh.”
“Why are you surprised?”
Jacob crossed his arms. “You two are pretending to date through Christmas, aren’t you?”
Mark’s hand stopped.
Jacob waited.
Mark slowly looked up. “Who told you that?”
“Nobody.” Jacob’s mouth twitched. “Or, more accurately, you just did.”
Mark grimaced. The two of them had grown up together. It shouldn’t be shocking that Jacob would realize what was going on even before Mark’s own brothers.
“That was underhanded,” he grumbled.
Jacob merely shrugged, but he looked a little concerned.
Mark muttered under his breath and reached for a wrench. “It’s temporary.”
“The holiday season comes and goes, but dating doesn’t have to be temporary.” Jacob held the iron accent against the cedar post and checked the angle. “Each Christmas matters, though.”
Mark didn’t like that answer, mostly because he couldn’t dismiss it. “We made rules.”
“That sounds romantic.”
Mark wrinkled his nose. “It was practical.”
Jacob held the iron accent against the cedar post and checked the angle. “Practical doesn’t mean it can’t become something else.”
“Absolutely not.”
Jacob laughed and set the iron down before picking up the cedar board again.
“You know, I used to think love would make my life simpler once I found the right person. It didn’t.
Rachel made everything more complicated, and Sadie definitely made it louder.
I’ve had to rearrange half my life around two people who can undo me with one look. ”
“And you’re selling this as a good thing?”
“As the best thing.” Jacob handed Mark the board so he could mark the brace placement. “Easy isn’t always the goal.”
Mark held the board steady against the bench and marked where the extra brace should go. “You sound like someone who’s been spending too much time with Pastor Abernathy.”
“I have been.”
“That explains it.”
“And Rachel.”
“That explains more.” Jacob smiled, but he didn’t press right away. He helped Mark shift the board, held it steady while Mark measured again, and waited until the mark was right before saying, “You talk about Natalie differently than you did about Jenna.”
Mark’s pencil stilled against the wood. “We’re not doing this.”
“I didn’t say better or worse. I said differently.”
“Still not doing it.”
Jacob accepted the pencil when Mark shoved it toward him. “All right.”
Mark expected him to keep pushing. Most people did once they smelled a subject they thought needed uncovering. Jacob didn’t. He simply made the next mark, checked it twice, and picked up the board to carry it toward the saw.
Normally, silence didn’t bother Mark, but he suddenly felt the need to explain. “Jenna was part of a future I thought I was supposed to want.”
Jacob set the board across the sawhorses, his expression calm. “And Natalie?”
Mark should have left the question alone.
He should have picked up the grinder, the latch, the coffee mug…
anything that gave his hands a job and his mouth a reason to stay closed.
Instead, he looked toward the open shop door, where sunlight cut a bright line across the concrete floor.
“Natalie makes the future feel less empty.”
Jacob didn’t smile.
Mark was grateful for that.
Jacob nodded toward the saw. “Then maybe don’t be too quick to call it pretending.”
Mark gave him a sharp look. “You’re proposing after one year and building an arbor in secret. You don’t get to advise anyone on quick.”
“One year isn’t all that quick,” Jacob argued. He picked up the board and set it into position. “But I do know lonely can start to feel safe if you live with it long enough.”
Mark couldn’t disagree with that.
He lined up the cut, checked Jacob’s fingers were clear, and started the saw. The blade bit through cedar, filling the shop with the clean scent of fresh wood. By the time the piece dropped free, Mark had his expression under control again.
Jacob took the board and inspected the cut. “Good.” He looked from the cedar to the sketch, and that quiet, certain smile returned. “Thank you.”
Mark reached for the next board, his hands already finding the rhythm of the work. Measure. Mark. Cut. Brace. Build it strong enough to last. That made sense. That was something he understood.
He didn’t understand love or hope.
Did he understand Natalie Winters with glitter on her hands and laughter in her eyes?
Jacob gathered the cedar and ironwork and thanked him like Mark had agreed instead of been cornered.
“Anytime,” Mark said. “You do realize “Rachel’s going to say yes before you finish asking.”
Jacob laughed.
Mark shook his head even as he smiled. He had overheard Sadie call Jacob a grumpy Santa last year. No one could dare even think that this year.
He watched Jacob carry the first finished pieces toward his truck, already looking like a man on top of the world.
Jacob wasn’t crazy. He had found his future.
Maybe this temporary arrangement with Natalie wasn’t only giving him room to breathe. Maybe it was reminding him what it felt like to want something again. Or, worse, to want someone.