Next morning Kendra was out back, having just watched Megan cycle off to school, when Brodie’s truck rumbled around the corner.
Though feeling defensive after their last encounter, she resisted the urge to scurry away. Instead she stood her ground, and slipping her hands into the pockets of her airy summer skirt, she waited for him to approach.
He was wearing a black T-shirt and khaki shorts and heavy workboots that crunched on the gravel as he walked. The man, she reflected bleakly, was all tan and muscle and hard male arrogance.
But she wasn’t the only one doing the looking. He was giving her a thorough once-over, his deliberate gaze taking in the sleek swing of her blond hair; the swell of her breasts under her tank top; and the slender length of her legs, revealed to him in all their shapely glory as a gust of wind plastered the full skirt to her thighs.
She felt as exposed as if she’d been naked but she refused to adjust the thin fabric, knowing that if she did he would see her discomfiture...and gloat over it.
She tilted her head regally. “Since you’re going to be in and out a lot you ought to have a key to the back door.” She drew the spare key from the pocket where she’d stored it. “That way, when I’m not around, you can come and go as you please.”
“Thanks.” He took the key and shoved it into his hip pocket. “So...why so sour this beautiful morning? Bad hair day? No—” his gaze drifted over her hair “—can’t be that. No sirree.”
The sudden heat in her cheeks wasn’t due to the sun. With fake pleasantry, she said, “Brodie, our relationship is a strictly business one. If you don’t want to be sued for sexual harassment, you’ll avoid making comments like that.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Can’t a man pay a simple compliment these days without ending up in court?”
“In a business situation,” she said in a supercilious tone, “personal comments are totally out of place.”
“Mmm. Am I to understand then that if you and your daughter accept our family invitation on Saturday, I’ll be free to express my admiration for any part of your anatomy which attracts my attention?”
Through gritted teeth, she muttered, “That’s not what I said!”
“How about if we ever go out on a date, then? Just the two of us? Would it be OK then?”
The man was married, for heaven’s sake, with children. But even if he’d been single and the most eligible bachelor in town, she wouldn’t have considered going out with him. He hadn’t changed one bit—he was still the same incorrigible flirt he’d been as a teenager!
“Yes.” Her voice was honey-sweet. “It would be OK then. But since I shall never go out on a date with you, Brodie, the question doesn’t... nor ever will ... arise.”
“Never say never.”
“Oh, I can say it and with more conviction than I’ve ever said anything in my life. I shall never—read my lips, Mr. Spencer—never go out on a date with you.”
She swirled away from him and made for the back door.
But as she stalked into the house she heard him call after her in that mocking tone that had already become so familiar.
“Famous last words, Ms. Westmore. Famous last words.”
Kendra resolved to keep out of his way for the rest of the day, but their altercation had left her strangely restless and she itched to busy herself with something.
In the end, she decided to work in the garden—the front garden, out of sight and sound of the kitchen.
She was on her hands and knees, weeding a rose bed, when a mail van came up the drive. She leaned back on her heels as the driver jumped out—a man in his mid-twenties.
He seemed vaguely familiar.
“Hi!” He walked over to her and slipped a couple of fliers from his bag. “Long time no see, Kendra!”
Blue Jamieson. She’d known him in high school—and she remembered what a struggle he’d had in school because he’d had a learning disability. She also remembered how immensely likable he’d been.
She’d known his father, too. Ben Jamieson had been the Westmore family doctor.
Kendra swallowed hard as she recalled the last time she’d sat in Dr. Jamieson’s office. Christmas Eve. Eight years past. It had been the worst day of her life.
Bar none.
“Well, hi yourself, Blue!” She scrambled to her feet and took the fliers. “Long time no see indeed!”
“Doing your own gardening now, huh? The Kendra I knew wouldn’t have dirtied her pretty little hands!” His ingenuous smile took any sting out of his words. “What’s up? You on a budget?”
She laughed. “No, no budget. I just haven’t hired a gardener yet, though my ad should be in the Lakeview Gazette today. Apparently my grandfather used a gardening company the past six years but I don’t want to go that route.”
“Yeah, Mr. Westmore started using the gardening company after Danny Spencer died. What a tragedy that was—you’ve heard about it, of course.”
“No. What happened?”
“Danny’s son Jack and Jack’s wife Maureen drove the old guy down to Vancouver on his sixty-fifth birthday—for some special hockey game he wanted to see—”
“I didn’t know Brodie had a brother.”
“Oh, yeah. Jack was fifteen years older than Brodie, a real nice guy. Worked in the Royal Bank. Anyway, on the way back from Vancouver, they ran into a snowstorm and were involved in a big smash on the Coquihalla—some truck lost its brakes and rammed into Jack’s Pinto. They were all killed. Well, Danny hung on for a week or so, but...”
Kendra felt goose bumps rise on her arms. “How awful.”
“Folks say only one good thing came out of that accident It sure brought out the best in Brodie Spencer—”
“Hey, Blue, you taking my name in vain?”
They both turned and saw Brodie walking across the lawn, a mug in one hand. He was still yards away, and couldn’t have heard much more than just his name.
Blue smoothed over what could have been an awkward moment by saying, “Just reminding Kendra of the old days, Brodie...when you were hell on wheels! You were the envy of all us guys when you bought your Harley-Davidson motorcycle.”
“Kendra’s grandfather gave me the money for that bike!”
Before Kendra could protest, he went on, dryly, “Of course, I had to work my butt off in his gardens for three summers to make it!”
Blue laughed. “Yeah, you did that, Brodie. While the rest of us guys were goofing off at the lake and having fun. Well—” he turned “—I gotta go! Great seeing you, Kendra!”
After he’d left, Brodie lingered.
“Yes?” She rolled up the fliers Blue had given her, and curled a tight hand around them. “What do you want?”
“Just taking my break, decided to get some air.” He raised his eyebrows. “Any objections to the hired hand coming around the front to drink his coffee?”
“Why do you take such a perverse delight in needling me?”
His laugh was without humor. “Delight? I take no delight in it!”
“Then why do you do it, Brodie? What do you hope to achieve?”
“I don’t really hope to achieve anything! But what I’d like