Нора Робертс - The Next Always

“We have plenty of our own. Does Ryder really not want Hope?”

“He’s just pissed Mom didn’t consult him.” Beckett left out issues like city, suits, and five-inch spikes. “Listen, I thought maybe I’d swing by later, give you a hand with the yard work.”

“The yard work?”

“Get the grass mowed for you. I miss mowing grass.”

“Oh, that’s sweet of you, but I mowed this morning.”

“This morning? It’s still morning.”

“The kids never sleep in on Saturdays, especially summer Saturdays. The advantage is, I can get a lot done before noon. Which is good as Saturdays are my get-it-all-done day, with Sunday for what didn’t. But thanks.”

“Anytime. Really.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I have to go, pick up the kids from my mother’s, hit the grocery store. I’m so glad you hired Hope. She’s going to be perfect for the inn, and the inn’s going to be perfect for her. Well, I’ll see you.”

“Yeah. Come here.” He pulled her around the steps, under the side porch roof. “I missed doing this yesterday.”

He closed his mouth over hers, nice and easy. Lingered a moment longer when her free hand curled up around his shoulder.

“That’s nicer than help with the yard work,” she murmured.

“You can have both, anytime.”

She thought both would take some time to get used to.

“I guess I’ll see you Monday.”

He ran a hand down the sunny tail of her hair. “I’ll call you later.”

“All right.”

It would all take time to get used to, she thought as she got into her car. Phone calls and kisses and Friday night dates. It was almost like being in high school again—well, except for the kids, the grocery store, the laundry waiting to be folded, and the checkbook that needed balancing.

She gave the inn a last glance as she drove away. The place had been there for over two centuries, she mused. And somehow it was changing everything.

Since yard work wasn’t on the weekend agenda, and he couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse to drop by Clare’s, Beckett put some extra time in at the family shop. With the dogs and his iPod for company, he set to work building the wood frame that would cap in the stone arch leading from The Lobby to the entrance hallway.

He didn’t do as much fine carpentry or cabinetmaking as his brothers, but enjoyed it when he did. And for the moment, he liked having the shop to himself.

He remembered his father teaching him how to use the saws, the lathe, the planer. Thomas Montgomery had been patient, but expected precision.

No point in doing something if you’re going to do it half-assed.

A motto to live by, Beckett thought now.

God, his dad would’ve loved this project. Everything about it would have appealed to him, challenged him. He’d loved the town, the old buildings, its rhythm, its colors and tones. Its politics.

He could sit at the counter at Crawford’s over bacon, eggs, and hash browns and bullshit with the best of them.

He’d never missed a parade or the fireworks for the Fourth in Shafer Park, not in Beckett’s memory. He’d sponsored a Little League team, and the family business still did. He’d even coached for a few years.

In his way, Beckett supposed, without the bullshit or posturing, he’d taught his sons what it was to be a part of a community. And how to value it.

Yeah, he’d love this project, for the work, for the building, and for the community.

For that reason alone, nothing about it would be half-assed.

Beckett took out his tape measure, the one that had been his father’s. Their mother had made sure each of them kept a specific tool. He measured and marked the next piece.

He straightened when his mother came in.

“Putting in some overtime, I see.”

“I got into it. Since I’m the one who wanted the archways framed in, I thought I should start the build.”

“It’s going to look fine, too. Look at the bookcases.” She laid a hand on her heart. “That’s damn pretty work you boys are doing there. Your dad would be so proud.”

“I was just thinking about him. It’s hard not to in here. I was thinking how much he’d love working on the inn, bringing it back.”

“Rolling his eyes at me behind my back when I came up with some new idea. And don’t think I don’t know you do the same.”

“Just carrying on the tradition.”

“You do a good job of that, the three of you.”

“Are you still mad?”

She angled her head. “Do I look mad?”

“You can be sneaky about it. Anyway.” He grinned. “It was Ry’s fault.”

“He’s got his father’s hard head and my temper. Tough combo. But he had a point. I should’ve talked it over with the three of you first. And if you tell him that, I’ll kick your ass.”

“He won’t hear it from me. Why’d you hire her like that, Mom? Just bam!”

She shrugged, then opened the shop fridge, shook her head at the pair of six-packs, took out two cold sodas. “Sometimes you know something’s right, and sometimes you have to accept things happen for a reason. This was both.”

Then she laughed, drank. “I think Hope surprised herself taking the offer as quick as it was made. I don’t think she was going to, but that’s what love’ll do to you. She fell for the place. You’ll see.”

“I guess we’ll see soon enough if she moves up.”

“She will be,” Justine assured him. “She’s going to get herself organized. She’ll make the move in a couple of weeks.”

“You talked her into it?”

“I had help. Avery.”

“Secret weapon.”

“She’s a go-getter, all right,” Justine agreed. “I gave Hope the key, let her go over and see the apartment. You’re going to need to see it gets a fresh coat of paint.”

When he blew out a breath, she lifted her eyebrows. “I know, but it needs to be done. By the way, I ordered the new sink and faucet for the gift shop. And a new toilet while I was at it. I sent you the links. Since Willow Run’s coming in to talk about the final design for The Courtyard next week, I’m having Brian take a look at the back of the gift shop. I think it needs a nice patio, and new fencing along the bookstore side. Some plantings,” she added, laughing now. “And those old steps can be worked in with stone like the patio.”

“Would you turn around so I can roll my eyes?”

“It’s going to be nice. Madeline’s already talking to local artists. And I’ve got Willy B signed on.”

“Avery’s dad?”

“He does wonderful metalwork in his spare time. You saw those candlesticks he gave me last Christmas. So . . . I think we can open toward the end of October.”

He felt the swallow of Coke stick at the base of his throat. “Mom, we haven’t even started.”

“Better get to it then. Oh, and mention the fence to Clare if I don’t get a chance.”

“Okay.”

“You can talk about it on your Friday night date.”

He lowered his drink. “What, did somebody take out an ad? I only mentioned it to Owen and Ryder.”

“And they didn’t tell me? I need to talk to those boys. Avery told me. You sure took your sweet time there, baby boy.”

“It’s just dinner or something.”

“You’ve been wanting to have dinner or something with Clare since you were a teenager. It broke my heart.”

“I didn’t think you knew.”

“Baby, of course I knew. I’m your mom. Just like I knew the night you came back from a date with Melony Fisher you’d had sex for the first time.”

He actually felt heat rush up the back of his neck. “Jesus, Mom.”

She laughed herself breathless. “I know what I know, and I trusted you’d been careful as your father and I drummed safe sex, respect, and consequences in all your heads. Make sure you remember all that with Clare.”

“Jesus, Mom.”

“You’re repeating yourself.”

“I—” When his phone rang, he snatched at it like a lifeline. “Owen. You don’t know why, but I owe you big. I’m out at the shop, why? He what? Seriously. Yeah, yeah, I’ll come in.”

He shoved the phone back in his pocket. “Ry’s sucking up after this morning. He’s taking your wall out. They want me to come take a look.”

“Go on then. Have you got anything going on tonight?”

“No.”

“You could pick up a pizza, come back. I’ll go over what I ordered today, and a few things I’m mulling over.”

“I can do that.”

“If either or both of your brothers hasn’t managed a date on Saturday night, I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with them. But if not, and they want, get more pizza.”

By Monday, they had crew in three buildings, painting the vacant apartment, prepping for paint at the gift shop, and since the temperatures dropped a little, doing exterior paint at the inn. Copper shone in the sun as the roofers worked on the mansard.