Her Very Own Family
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Audrey directed her gaze at the tree canopy above and took a few deep breaths, told herself that everything would be fine. All she needed to do was let Brady get to know her a little so the suspicion she’d seen in his eyes the day before disappeared. Maybe it was just a small-town suspicion of newcomers and nothing more. She’d have to overcome that to make her caf'e successful, so she might as well start tackling it now.
Brady appeared at the top of the ladder, hammer in hand.
“Thank you,” she said as he handed it to her.
Without asking, he stepped onto the roof and slid one piece of tin after another into place while she hammered.
“I can do that for a while if you like,” he offered.
“Thanks, but I’ve got it.” Actually, physical labor felt good, cathartic even.
A couple of minutes went by before he spoke again. “Did the tin do something to tick you off?” he asked, a touch of teasing in his question.
She stopped, realized thoughts of the past had caused her to start hammering harder. She leaned against the roof and wiped the sweat off her forehead again. “I just want to get done.”
“Won’t do you any good if you beat a hole through the roof.”
Audrey stared down at her boots, frustrated that the past still had the ability to make anger pulse through her. She didn’t want to be that angry, disappointed person anymore. She took several seconds to cool off and catch her breath then went back to hammering, though less violently this time.
“So, how’d you and my dad meet?” Brady asked.
She swallowed her instinctive aversion to questioning and replied in an even tone, “At the grocery store. I helped him find something he was looking for.”
“And that led to him working out here every day?”
Audrey glanced at Brady. “You’re the inquisitive sort, aren’t you?” she asked, keeping her question light, not accusatory.
Brady sat back and propped one forearm on his upturned knee. “I’m just looking out for my dad.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing.”
“Why?”
“Because he seemed like he needed it.” One glance at Brady told her that he had, indeed, simply been concerned for his recently widowed father’s welfare. She remembered how lost Nelson had looked in the grocery store and understood Brady’s concern. Just because the concept of a close relationship with a parent wasn’t within her current realm of possibility didn’t mean they didn’t exist anymore. Even she had once enjoyed such a relationship.
Nelson wandered outside to dump some wood scraps into the burning barrel. Neither she nor Brady spoke until the older man stepped back inside.
“Listen, I’m not sure what you were thinking, but I’m not out to get anything from your dad. He’s a nice man, and I’ve liked having him around. And he appears to like coming out here.”
Brady stretched his legs out and leaned back on his palms. He stared toward the gentle flow of the creek. “I’m sorry. He was just acting so different from the last time I saw him.”
“But that’s a good thing.”
Brady looked at her, questions written all over his handsome face.
“When I met your dad, he was standing in front of the cherry pie filling in the grocery store, totally overwhelmed by which one to buy. He was on the verge of tears. It made my heart break. He looked so relieved when I helped him pick a can for cobbler.”
Brady lowered his head, as if he were trying to see his dad through the tin of the roof. “Mom’s cobbler. It’s his favorite dessert.”
“I didn’t know about your mom then. I thought your mom had sent him to the store to do the shopping she normally did.” She told him about her conversation with Meg the cashier and her subsequent encounter with his dad in the parking lot. “I was only trying to help him in that moment. But once he came out here with those picture frames, he seemed to want to talk. The more we talked and I told him about my ideas, the more of his sadness drifted away. I mean, I still see it sometimes, but I honestly think it’s good for him to stay busy. It keeps his mind on something other than how much he misses your mom.”
And Audrey was the expert on staying busy to keep other thoughts at bay.
“I know. That’s part of the reason I came up here. I was worried about him. He hasn’t been the same person since Mom died.”
“That’s understandable. They were married for a long time. This isn’t something you get past in a few days.” She remembered the deep sorrow that had cloaked her own mother in the weeks following the unexpected death of Audrey’s father.
Brady glanced up at her. “You say that like you know from experience.”
She swallowed and shook away the unwanted memory. “Just common sense.” She lifted the hammer and moved toward the top of the roofline. “We should try to finish this before it gets too hot. I’m already sweating like I’ve been jogging across Death Valley.”
The old keeping-busy philosophy at work. If she filled her mind with roofing and painting and electrical wiring, she didn’t have to remember the father she’d lost. Or the mother she’d walked away from.
AUDREY YORK MIGHT NOT be after his father’s money, but she was definitely hiding something. Call it gut instinct, but he’d seen something in her eyes, almost a touch of fear. Fear that he’d find out something she wanted to keep hidden? He shook his head, realized yet again that he was comparing her to a bad memory. His brain knew all women weren’t like Ginny, but his gut kept missing the memo.
But he had to give credit where credit was due. She was indeed a hard worker. She was slicked with sweat, cuts and scrapes covered her hands and knees, her hair was coming loose from her ponytail, and she didn’t pay any of it a moment of attention. Her single-minded focus stayed on getting this roof completed in record time.
He paused for a moment to watch her hammer. Even disheveled, she was a beauty. And she acted like she was either unaware of that fact or didn’t care. Before his work pants became uncomfortable, he pulled another piece of tin into place.