Right Where He Belongs

“Why, you’re the spitting image of your daddy. Frankie was quite the charmer.” She leaned toward Tanner. “Not at all like your grandfather. That Frank, Sr. was short on charm, but he was fair and a man of his word.”

Tanner was already weary of the praise for a man who must have hidden his shortcomings from the town. “I see. Well, thanks again, Mrs. Boone.”

“You’re more than welcome. Tell me, are you as full of pluck as your daddy was? ’Cause this town could use shaking up.”

“Frankie, you’re finally home,” a feeble voice called out from behind the screen of the kitchen door. A stooped, white-haired woman shuffled inside.

Mrs. Boone placed her hand on the old woman’s elbow. “Oh, no, Mrs. Johnson. Frankie and Susan passed away years ago in that horrible car accident, remember?”

“Nonsense, child. I’d know that hair and those eyes anywhere. Why did you stay away so long, Frankie?”

A mixture of emotions jackhammered Tanner. The warmth and joy in the stranger’s voice, the lines of concern and compassion on her face, and the fact that she’d obviously known and liked his father caused Tanner’s throat to grow tight. He swallowed hard. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how much he craved to know the details of his parents’ childhoods.

“The town hasn’t been the same since you left, dear boy.”

Tanner had no idea how to respond to the woman without confusing her more, so he played along. He smiled. “How have you been, Mrs. Johnson?”

She sighed. “Teaching isn’t what it used to be. No respect, no joy of learning. Your daddy thought you could scare kids into doing the right thing, or at the very least bribe them. But I daresay I disagree. Where is the rascal, anyway?”

A sad smile crossed Mrs. Boone’s face. “Mrs. Johnson was the best math teacher New Haven High ever had. She lives just across the alley. On her good days she liked to come over to spar with your grandfather. You could hear those two all the way downtown. Obviously, today isn’t a good day. Come on, Mrs. Johnson, I’ll walk you home.”

Tanner looked forward to a good day when they could go back in time together. “I’ll drop by for a visit sometime, if that’s okay with you, Mrs. Johnson.”

“Any time, dear boy. It’s time I have plenty of.”

Mrs. Boone led the stooped woman toward the door. “Oh, look, Tanner!” Mrs. Boone said over her shoulder. “You’ve got more company. And you’re in luck. Looks like Miss Eva brought cinnamon rolls. One whiff, and you’ll agree they’re to die for.”

His warm, nostalgic mood evaporated at the sight of several strangers approaching the house. He worried he was caught in the Father Knows Best version of The Twilight Zone. What else explained why strangers felt free to wander into his house, or why people admired a jerk like his grandfather?

No matter. He knew the man for what he really was—a scheming, coldhearted tyrant.

Every citizen in New Haven could line up at his door with gifts and kind words about his grandfather. Tanner didn’t care; he’d ignore them all.

And he for damn sure wouldn’t give in to any interest or attraction he might feel toward Cassie Leighton.

Chapter Two

Cassie cradled the grocery sacks against her chest and hurried across the street. A quick glance at Tanner’s truck revealed it hadn’t budged since she’d left Fairfax House earlier that afternoon. A single light in the old house led her to believe he was home. Good. She hated to think she’d wasted time deciding what to wear for nothing. She’d fretted less for a date, for Pete’s sake.

But she had to walk a fine line. Tanner was not only a customer and a neighbor, but someone Mr. Frank had entrusted her to look after. So, she’d chosen comfortable jeans, a white sleeveless blouse, sandals and her denim floppy hat. Casual, but a step up from shorts and T-shirt with her company logo.

She shifted the stuffed paper bags in her arms and tapped the door with her foot. “Come on, Tanner,” she mumbled. “Open the door.” On a mission to welcome him to the neighborhood, she also hoped her gifts would make him realize how much she’d loved and respected his grandfather.

Unfortunately, she had another, less pure motive for such a quick return visit: Tanner had filled her thoughts all day.

After she’d left Fairfax House, she had stopped by the office to log in any deliveries and bring home the mail. For the remainder of the afternoon she had helped her crew install light fixtures at a job site. Thank goodness the routine work hadn’t required her full attention.

All her life, Cassie had been told she had too much curiosity, so her job proved the perfect fit. She saw hidden treasures in old, beaten-up things. Stripping paint from a piece of furniture to expose the natural beauty underneath was a joy, not a chore.

So, why wouldn’t a man such as Tanner, unlike the other men in New Haven, fascinate her? He had more walls built up around him than the mansion he’d inherited, which probably explained why he’d never had a long-term relationship with a woman.

Too bad for him that she lived to tear down walls. But, of course, she had no personal motives. She just had to know him better in order to figure out how to convince him to stay.

She gently kicked at the door again. Still no answer.

Movement in the nearest window caught her attention. The door slowly opened. “Come in. Hurry,” Tanner whispered.

“What’s wrong?” she asked with forced nonchalance. Curiosity over his odd behavior battled with her unwillingness to appear too eager to see him again. Unfazed by the darkness, she headed for the kitchen. She could find her way around the house blindfolded, had done so many times during games of Blind Man’s Bluff with her sister. “You act like you’re in hiding.”

A dimmed swag light revealed the kitchen table crammed with foil-covered dishes and platters. Her mouth watered at the unmistakable aroma of Mrs. Boone’s green bean casserole, Mr. Dunne’s barbequed chicken and Miss Eva’s cinnamon rolls, along with many other specialties just as familiar.

Cassie made room on the table for the sacks. She tore her glance away from the enticing spread and studied Tanner, only to discover something even more tempting—vulnerability.

“You bet I’m hiding, Cassie. I haven’t had a minute’s peace since I set foot into this house. People have been coming out of the woodwork in droves. Look at all this.” He gestured at the food, then glanced back at her. “I didn’t even notice you had the sacks or I would’ve carried them for you. Sorry. It’s just that I’m…I’m…”

“Flustered?” The corners of her mouth involuntarily turned upward. Nothing was more adorable than a flustered male. Adorable? Tanner? She didn’t want to go there. “Surely you’ve been in small towns before. We pride ourselves on friendliness.”

“I’ve worked in hundreds, but never lived in one.”

“Hundreds? That’s a lot of traveling. What kind of work do you do?” Although she already knew the answer, she wanted Tanner to talk about himself. Something told her that he’d be furious to know an investigator had reported on most aspects of his life.

“Carpentry. And I own a construction company.”

When Cassie had first learned of Tanner’s chosen field, she had felt an instant kinship with him, sight unseen. Now that she’d met him, so restless, closed off, and full of anger, she knew not to read anything into the fact they both owned their own company and enjoyed working with their hands. He had the most beautiful hands, large and tanned….

She shook her head and forced herself to focus on her plan. If he wanted to be truly happy, Tanner needed to understand the importance of roots and accept his birthright. “Construction must be in the blood. That’s how Mr. Frank got his start. Residential, mostly. Then he expanded with businesses related to construction—a hardware store, remodeling and repair. But I guess you already know that.”

“I’m strictly commercial.” Tanner folded his arms against his chest and his muscles strained against the fabric of his shirt. “I know all I need to know about my grandfather. He was used to getting his own way.”

Tanner was bullheaded. Just like his grandfather. “Yes, well, most successful people are. And if you don’t know it already, the remodeling business I own belonged to your grandfather until two years ago.”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s pretty young to buy and think you can run your own business.”

“Twenty-three isn’t that young when you consider I had worked for your grandfather for nine years before that. My father had left me a little money, so between that and a loan, I was able to offer Mr. Frank a fair price. You can check the papers you got from Mr. Samuels.”

“I don’t care about any of that.” Tanner ran a hand through his thick black hair and paced, his boots pounding against the hardwood floor. “This is what I don’t get.” He gestured at the food. “What do these people want from me?”

Cassie’s heart ached from Tanner’s dismissal of his grandfather, a man she had grown to love as surely as if he’d been a blood relative. She had to make Tanner see how much his grandfather cursed his own pride and stubbornness that had driven away family, that he had loved Tanner, regretted not being in his life, and had wanted to make up for the mistakes he’d made. “All these people want is to make you feel welcome, show how much they respected your grandfather.”

“But why would they care what I think? They don’t know me.”

“You’re a Fairfax. That’s all they need to know.” She grabbed the chilled gallon of milk, then the eggs, bread, cheeses and coffee from one sack. From the other, she gently removed a small pot of ivy, napkins and other paper products.

Tanner stopped pacing and stared at her as if she’d swapped the denim hat she wore for a bucket. “It’s that simple?”

“Yep. And I’m warning you, if you haven’t gotten an invitation to dinner from my mother yet, it’s coming.”

“What do you mean? I’ve been in town one day.”