His Unexpected Family

“Guess you’ll be selling the family homestead and taking off again,” he drawled. “I heard you got hitched, a while back. Your hubby here in Lakeview with you?”

His gaze dropped to her hands. Her fingers were gripped around the steering wheel. On the left hand, her gold ring glinted. It looked bare. She felt a twinge of unease. Perhaps she should have invested in an engagement ring before coming home; it would have been more...convincing.

Not that she had to convince this man of anything!

“Would you mind moving?” she said coolly. “As I said, I have things to—”

“What’s your hurry? How about having a coffee with me, for old t—”

She flicked the gear lever into reverse and after a hasty check in the rearview mirror, yanked the Honda back. She heard his startled “Whoa!” as he had to jump aside, and she felt a stab of satisfaction.

Turn signal blinking, she swung out into the street. And then she drove off as fast as she could without actually breaking the speed limit... and without even peeking back once to see if he might be watching.

But as she made her way home, following the Main Street that ran parallel to the lake, the chance meeting lingered in her mind like an unpleasant aftertaste.

It was more than eight years since she’d left the small town of Lakeview in B.C.’s Interior, and in all that time she’d never once given Brodie Spencer a thought. Why should she? He’d never meant anything to her. His father, Danny, had been the Westmore gardener and because Brodie had helped Danny in the summer she’d seen him around the place.

Other than that, because he’d been two years ahead of her in high school, their paths had rarely crossed.

That had suited her just fine!

And it would suit her just as fine, she decided grimly, if that state of affairs was to continue!

The booming Lakeview Construction Company—consisting of offices, lumberyard, warehouses, and store—sprawled over several acres at the east end of Lakeview.

Brodie drove directly there from the school.

After parking his truck in the yard, he jumped down onto the sunbaked dirt and bounded up the wooden steps to the rear entrance.

As he strode along the corridor, he heard voices coming from the office ahead. He recognized Mitzi’s breathy tones. When he neared the open door, he heard Pete talking.

“...and she signed the contract Friday. It’s a big job, Mitzi.”

“I’ll put Sam Fleet on it.”

“Yeah, Sam can handle it—oh, hi, boss.” Pete, the company estimator, nodded to Brodie when he noticed him in the doorway.

Mitzi’s bouffant bleached-blond hair swayed as she got to her feet. Stroking down the miniskirt of her white knit dress with its splashy pattern of crimson hearts, she said, “I’ll get your coffee, boss.”

“Make it an iced tea, Mitzi. Thanks.”

As his office manager teetered in her high-heeled sandals to the small lunchroom across the hall, Brodie ambled over to her desk. He picked up a sheaf of papers.

“You were saying, Pete...about a big job?”

“That’s it you’ve got there. For the Westmore place. Rosemount. It’s an enormous glitzy property at the west end of the lake, up on the hill. Fantastic view.”

“I know it.” Brodie was aware that Pete had only been in town six months and didn’t know much of its history. “The old guy who owned it passed away recently. Edward Westmore. Made his money way back when, in the stock market. His son Kenneth and his daughter-in-law Sandra both died about twenty years ago. Their daughter—old Westmore’s granddaughter—is the one who has inherited the place. So...she’s signed up with us, has she?”

“On the dotted line. She wants the kitchen gutted, modernized.”

“Is she going to move in...or sell?”

“She’s moving in. She wants commercial appliances in the kitchen, she’s planning on running Rosemount as a B and B.”

As Brodie assimilated that, Pete went on. “She also wants the staircase torn down, and some airy open circular staircase put up in its place—”

“She’s going to tear down that mahogany staircase?” Brodie rolled his eyes in disbelief. “The woman’s crazy! It’s a work of art! Good God, those spindles, that intricate carving—”

“Yeah, I know. I tried to talk her out of it, but she sure put me in my place! She’d been sweet as pie till then, but sheesh! when I put my two cents in—” He slashed his index finger across his throat.

Brodie shook his head. Unbelievable. “I heard Mitzi say she was going to put Sam on the job—”

Mitzi came back into the office and handed him a glass of iced tea. “That’s right Oh, before I forget, boss—Hayley called. She wants you to bring home a half gallon of milk after work. You’re clean out and she won’t have time to stop in at the supermarket.”

“Milk. OK.”

“She said to be sure you got fat-free.”

Brodie’s grin was self-deprecating. “Henpecked, that’s what I am! But hey, we all know who’s boss in my household!” He gulped down a few mouthfuls of his iced drink and set the glass on Pete’s desk. “So...Mitzi, about the Westmore job—have you mentioned it to Sam yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Then don’t.” Brodie walked to the window and looked out. Even this early the yard was a hive of activity—customers walking among the rows of lumber, men hauling out supplies; trucks coming and going; women browsing in the garden furniture section, taking advantage of the end-of-season sale. He swatted the contract against his thigh. “I’m going to take this one on myself.”

“Good luck!” Pete said. “You’ll have your hands full dealing with Mrs. Westmore.”

“It’s not Mrs. Westmore.” Brodie’s response came absently. “She was a Westmore—I don’t know what her married name would be though.”

“It’ll be on the contract.” Mitzi took the papers from Brodie and riffled through them till she found the signature she was looking for.

“Kendra Westmore!” She made a face. “Well, I guess she never did change her name. Some women don’t. Me, I can’t think why. If you love a man, surely you’d want to bear his name...and have your kids bear his name. ’Course, the reason she and Edward Westmore fell out was because her grandfather disapproved of her intended—at least, that’s what folks around here said—and maybe she kept the family name thinking to appease the old man.” Mitzi turned to Pete. “Did you meet the husband?”

“Nah, he wasn’t around.”

“What about kids?” Mitzi asked. “Does she have kids? Did you see any when you were out there?”

“She’s got a daughter,” Pete said. “Spit of herself.”

“Well,” Mitzi said, “the kid must be pretty as they come. That Westmore girl might have been snooty as all get-out, but she surely was a beauty.”

She still is, Brodie thought. She still is!

And he couldn’t wait to see the look on her beautiful snooty face when he turned up at her front door tomorrow!

“Megan, you didn’t eat your lunch!” Frowning, Kendra took the bulging brown paper bag from her daughter’s backpack.

“I’ll eat it now, Mom.” Megan leaned forward in her chair and stuck out her hand as Kendra made to put the bag in the fridge. “I’m starving!”