“Could your family help you?”
She glanced away. “I’m too old to go running to family for money,.”
He looked around “This is a big project, Ms. Harris. Maybe your parents would like to invest in making this place at least livable for their daughter.”
Her hands curled into fists. “My parents aren’t able to help out, Mr. Covelli. And for your information, this house was inspected before the auction. The gas company deemed the stove in the kitchen safe to use. The plumbing was checked out and fixed before I bought the house. So you see, this place is very livable. But if you won’t help me, then I’ll find another contractor who will.”
She pulled a business card out of her pocket. “There’s...the Norton Construction Company in Bedford,” she read. “So, thank you for your time.” She turned and headed out to the hall.
“Norton Construction? They have a reputation for doing things cheap, but you won’t get the quality this house deserves.” He went after her as she approached the stairs.
“It’s what I can afford, Mr. Covelli.”
He reached her side. “Will you please stop calling me that? You make me feel ancient. My name is Rafe.”
She stopped and swung around. “What I call you isn’t going to change the fact that I can’t afford you.”
Rafe could see the sheen of tears in her eyes, then she turned away and put her tennis-shoe-clad foot on the next step. One of the weakened steps. A scream erupted from her lips as she lost her balance and began to fall.
Rafe caught her and managed to halt her progress. He yanked her against him, and they both went down hard on one of the steps. Shelby ended up lying on top of him, his arms wrapped around her tightly. She felt incredible. Her softness against his hardness. He inhaled her fresh flowery scent. Suddenly his body caught fire and he knew he had to let her go.
But he couldn’t move.
Shelby finally pushed herself up and looked at him with those remarkable green eyes. He stifled a groan as his gaze moved to her mouth; he was unable to ignore how badly he wanted a taste.
He blinked away his wayward thoughts. “Are you all right?”
Blushing, she nodded and got off him. “I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“It happens. But you can see why you need to get these stairs fixed before someone really gets hurt.”
“Yes, I do.” She sat down on the step. “And I will. Thank you for coming by with your bid.”
He got up. He started down the stairs, but knew he couldn’t leave her to Gus Norton. “Look, I can give you the names of other reliable companies, but the cost won’t be any less than my bid.” He wrote down two names on a piece of paper and handed it to her.
She took it. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”
He stood there for a few seconds. Even though this woman was tall, she had a delicate build and would have a hard time moving heavy materials, but from what he saw in the thirty minutes of knowing her, Shelby Harris was stubborn enough to try.
“I’ll have a crew here on Wednesday to start the work outside,” he said.
She nodded, but didn’t smile. And for some reason he was disappointed. After all, he was doing her a favor.
“Look, if I get a bit of time, maybe I could help you tear out—”
“I don’t need your charity, Mr. Covelli,” she said stubbornly. “I’ll get it done.”
“I don’t doubt that, Ms. Harris, but I wasn’t offering charity. Here in Haven Springs we call it being neighborly.”
Chapter Two
Shelby stood on the front porch watching Rafe’s Chevy truck pull out of the drive onto the quiet, tree-lined street.
“Arrogant man,” she mumbled as she sat down on one of the steps. What right did he have to boss her around? No man was going to tell her what to do. She wasn’t her mother, weak and submissive, allowing men to control her life, then walk out on her. As a child, she remembered the men who’d come and gone from Nola Harris’s life, including Shelby’s father. Years ago she had vowed she’d never let a man get close enough to hurt her.
Well, she had managed most of her life just fine by herself, and Rafe Covelli wasn’t going to change that.
Shelby glanced behind her at the house, and suddenly she was overwhelmed. How was she going to get all of it done? She sighed tiredly, remembering how hard she’d worked and saved for this place. Now this was her home. Excitement raced through her. Stewart Manor was hers.
She turned and surveyed the vast lawn. It wasn’t so much grass as two acres of knee-high weeds. The dozen or so maple trees could stand to be trimmed. So could the hedge that lined the wrought-iron fence bordering the property.
She stood and went down the steps, refusing to let herself get depressed. All her life she’d managed to handle anything that had been tossed at her, and she’d survived. With this place there was a lot to do, but she could handle it.
Making her way to the rear of the house, she realized that this area wasn’t in any better shape than the front Weeds were everywhere. The large rose garden had been neglected, but there were some bushes that had survived the neglect.
Shelby continued her inspection of the property and followed the old brick walkway past a row of trees. She froze at the sight of a little cottage, its paint peeling and most of its windows broken. Taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart, she kept moving through the high grass toward the building.
A rusty glider swing sat on the small porch, which made memories flood her head. A hot Indiana summer, and she and her mom sitting on that very swing, waiting for rain to cool things off. Shelby had only been six years old, but that period in her life had been tucked neatly into her heart as the happiest time she’d ever spent with her mother. The last summer they were together—before Nola went away.
She felt a chill course through her, and her emotions threatened to surface. She was unable to stop the recollection of the nice woman who used to come and visit them at the cottage. A woman who lived in Stewart Manor and her name was Miss Hannah. She was pretty and always smiling. When she visited in the evenings, she’d bring cookies or ice cream. One time she brought a doll.
Then one night when Miss Hannah came by, Nola sent her daughter to bed.
But that didn’t stop Shelby from hearing their argument. The next day, Nola packed up their shabby suitcases and they left Stewart Manor. A bus took them away, and her mother never explained why.
Not long after that, Nola hooked up with another man, Orin Harris. Nola said he was going to be her daddy. Shelby didn’t want a daddy, especially someone who was mean to her mother. Besides, Orin and Nola were always drunk and at night they’d fight. One day her mother had gotten sick, and with no other relatives to take Shelby, she had been put in foster care. She never saw or heard from her mother again. Later she was told she had died.
Shelby was almost overcome with sadness. But she drew a shaky breath and fought it, as she had so many times. Denial was her protection against getting hurt.
“Hello, is anyone there?”
With a startled gasp, Shelby jerked around to find an old man standing in the rose arbor. He was short, and as he walked toward her, she noticed he had a slight limp. He had snowy white hair and a ruddy complexion, and his smile let her know he wasn’t a threat.
“May I help you?” Shelby asked.
“I’m Ely Cullen, ma’am.” He held out his hand.