Texas Daddy

“Yes, sir.” The kid smiled.

Her throat went dry as a face from her past flashed across her mind. “Was that Tommy and Vickie’s son?”

He pulled the seat belt around so she could buckle it. “Yep. He’s about twelve. It’s been a bit rough on him, but he’s a good kid.”

“Rough? Because of the divorce? Seth looks like his father.”

“Yeah, he does. The divorce was bad enough, but then... Tommy’s in jail.”

“Tommy Miller?” She blinked. The world turned upside down. He had been the golden boy. Everyone loved him. She had loved him, until he used her and... “Why?”

“Domestic violence. The worst part was Seth was the one to call 911 and had to step between his father and Vickie. Tommy threatened her with a gun.” He closed the door.

Numb. Her brain was numb.

Mia opened the other passenger door and crawled up into the bench seat. “Are you going to eat with us?”

“No, Mia. She needs to go home.”

Nikki looked up at Adrian. Their eyes met in the mirror. “Please.” She wanted to say more, but if she uttered another word she would start to cry.

One quick nod, and he turned the key. George got in the front and handed her a small bag. “Sure you don’t want to join us? We have plenty.”

Adrian backed the truck out. “She needs to go home and get some rest. I think her day’s been long enough.”

Sometimes being bossy was a good thing. Nikki closed her eyes, thankful that Adrian understood on some level that she needed to hide. At this rate, she shouldn’t venture out of her father’s house ever again. Not until it was time to leave Clear Water, anyway.

Chapter Three (#u65252bcf-04ee-5a87-a67d-cf93a40a4c89)

Hiding in the corner—well, actually a closet—Nikki sat on an odd chair that had been left behind. Her father wanted her to meet with Adrian and George as they did an appraisal of the remodel. She knew he was trying to get her out of the house and involved in the family business. She would have said no, but she was starting to get a little stir-crazy.

Now she regretted the decision to come to the lumberyard. At least George would be here. She just didn’t want to spend any more time alone with Adrian.

From the dark cubby, she could see through several open doors to the front area. Built in 1884, parts of the store had seen better days. Some of the interior walls had been torn down sometime in the twenties or thirties to make the front half one big room. Rumor had it they used it for dancing, but she couldn’t imagine anyone in her father’s family hosting community dances. Eight columns supported the stamped tin ceiling, and a raised platform gave credence to the live music gatherings. The back part of the space had been living quarters.

The ornate door that she remembered always being locked now leaned against the wall. A heavy carved chair with a strange back elevated above the others in a sea of forgotten chairs. The different styles stood as evidence of each decade that marched through the rooms. It looked as if generations of Bergmanns never threw anything away.

Over the years, her father stood firm that the cost to repair the upstairs of the historic building had been out of financial reach. Money needed to be spent wisely on the areas where customers traveled. Which meant the above and below were left untouched. The basement was used as storage for the business, but the upper floor looked like a graveyard of the forgotten.

Footsteps on the narrow staircase to her left stopped her thoughts. One pair of boots slowly moved closer to her. Only one?

Please, let it be George. He didn’t ask her questions or make her uncomfortable.

The man on the stairs came into view. He had his back to her. Her stomach dropped with a heavy thud. It was Adrian.

Worn fitted Levi’s jeans, boots and a blue button-up shirt tucked neatly had him looking all business with a pair of work gloves in his back pocket. The silver Stetson was not the same one he’d worn when he hauled her out of the rain.

He wasn’t much taller than she remembered. But he had filled out. In a very nice way. Too nice for her comfort.

Hands on his hips, he arched back and studied the ceiling. He moved through the doors to the front of the room and stopped at one of the large ten-foot windows.

She had a perfect view as he gently ran his fingers along the wood trim then dropped to the floor and thoughtfully traced the baseboards.

He muttered some words she couldn’t hear then turned his attention to the broken laminate tiles in the floor. Slowly, he pried one of the squares up and touched the flooring he found underneath. He caressed the building as if comforting and reassuring hurt feelings.

Standing, he turned her way. His eyes went wide for a second, and then he smiled at her. “Well, Ms. Bergmann, what a pleasure to find you hiding up here.” In a few steps, he stood in front of her. The morning sun flooded through the windows behind him. The light made it hard to see the details of his face.

Why did she feel guilty for watching him? “I’m not hiding. Daddy asked me to meet you and George here.” Standing over her, he seemed taller than six foot. Using the arm of the chair, she got herself to her feet. “He wanted to make sure you didn’t get any crazy ideas of making a grand statement with the remodel. He’s still not sure he wants to waste the money on this part of the building.” She looked to the back stairway. Maybe George got stopped downstairs by one of her sisters. “Where’s your partner?”

“My partner needed to finish up another job and sent me. My specialty is uncovering the beauty in old buildings. I can keep it as simple or as complicated as you want it.”

“Simple. I... We... I mean, he, my father, wants to keep it simple.”

“What about your sisters? They gave me a long list of ideas, and every time they saw me they added more.” He crossed his arms over his chest, and his shirt stretched across lean hard muscles. She looked toward the door, not wanting to remember how comforting it felt to be held by those arms. He had just been helping someone in trouble. He hadn’t meant anything by it.

“My sisters are great with ideas, but Daddy’s the money man.”

He nodded as his eyes scanned the room. “What about you? What part are you playing?”

“Not any. I’m just a temporary guest who plans to move on as soon as I can.”

His attention came back to her and he paused until they made eye contact. “That’s a shame.”

Now, why did her insides have to get all gooey? Ugh, she had the worst taste in men. He was a bull rider. Maybe a retired one, but still, they were all adrenaline junkies and thought they were some kind of gift to the women of the planet. It must have to do with the arrogance of thinking they could ride a two-thousand-pound animal made of muscle. She had enough issues without dating a risk taker, and he had a kid. That made him off-limits.

Stay on topic, Nikki girl. You’re here to talk about the building. “So what do you think? Can it be made into usable space at a reasonable price?”

He ran his fingertips along the decorative cuts on the unhinged door. “My guess from the designs cut into the wood is that this door was brought over from Europe, maybe Germany. This is one solid piece of wood, not small pieces glued on. It’s beautiful.” His gaze cut across the room. “I had no clue there was such a big pulley up here. The wheel is at least eight feet wide. It’s amazing.”

She could see the appreciation in his eyes.

He waved her to follow him. “Come here.”

Without waiting, he moved to a moldy part of the wall that had started to crumble. He took the work gloves from his back pocket. With them on, he carefully lifted a corner of the drywall and pulled. It gave way under the pressure, and he moved back.

With a gleam he looked at her, waiting for her reaction. He acted as if he was sharing a found treasure.

Looking at the exposed stone wall then back at him, she waited.

“This is incredible and a pretty easy fix.” He stepped over the new debris and laid his palm on the stone-and-plaster wall. “Come here.”

Carefully she stepped around the rubble and touched the wall.

“Do you feel that? That’s a building that has provided shelter and a living for over one hundred and thirty years. It’s been covered and hidden away.” He gazed at the wall, his hand pressing against it as if listening for a heartbeat. He looked at her and smiled. “Do you feel it?”

The cool stone seemed to have a life all its own. “So you want to take the Sheetrock down and expose the stone.”

He nodded. “It was probably added in the sixties trying to make the room look more modern. The fifties and sixties did a great deal of damage to these old places.”