Windswept Way (Hope Harbor #9)(4)
Author: Irene Hannon
Still . . .
Very few visitors came to call at the remote estate, aside from UPS drivers and the regulars who delivered groceries or did maintenance or had other business to attend to. Near as he could tell from traffic patterns, social guests were nonexistent.
So maybe the woman with the wavy, light brown hair and big eyes had business to conduct at Edgecliff.
Somehow that didn’t feel right. But why else would she—
A welcoming yip sounded outside, and he exited the shed, shoving his mask in his pocket as thirty-five pounds of enthusiastic border collie barreled toward him.
He crossed the lawn to meet the joyful ball of fur, dropping to one knee to accept an affectionate nuzzle. “Hey, Daisy. Did you miss me?”
A slurp on the cheek provided his answer.
Scratching behind her ears, he shifted toward his logoed pickup truck as it swung into the driveway.
Huh.
Kyle was back early.
Was that a good sign or a bad one?
Hard to know when you employed ex-cons.
But in the eighteen months Kyle had worked for him, the man had been a model employee. As had the other two crew members who’d been vetted and recommended by the husband of Hope Harbor’s police chief—an ex-con turned successful businessman. Endorsements didn’t come with a better pedigree than that.
After giving Daisy one more pat, Jon stood and walked over as the man climbed down from the cab.
“You finished early.” He stopped next to the truck, and Daisy plopped onto her haunches beside him.
“Pulling out the old landscaping didn’t take as long as we expected. Half the bushes had root rot. The design you created looks great, by the way. The owner loved it. Wish I had your knack for layout. Then I could use a pen instead of a shovel.” He grinned. “Not that you don’t do your share of heavy lifting.”
“Like on tomorrow’s job. That will require all hands on deck. But after working on bids and designs all day, I’ll be glad to trade in my laptop for a shovel. Thanks for covering for me on the site today and picking up the last load of mulch.”
“No problem. I told the guys to be there at seven thirty sharp. We should get an early start.”
“I agree.” Jon motioned to the man’s older-model Nissan, parked off to the side. “Go on home to that new wife of yours. I bet she’ll be glad to have you for an extra hour today.”
“That’s my plan. I already talked to her.” Kyle slid his fingers into his back pockets. Transferred his weight from one foot to the other. “Listen . . . you want to have dinner with us? Sarah’s roasting a chicken, and she said she’d bake cookies if you came.”
Jon throttled a groan. Kyle’s offer was kind, as the previous ones had been.
But pity never sat well, no matter how good the intentions.
He reached down and stroked Daisy’s head as he framed his response. “I appreciate the invitation, but I’m covered for dinner. Besides, I’m sure your bride would rather have you to herself.”
“It was her idea this time.” Twin creases appeared on the man’s forehead. “Can I tell you something?”
Uh-oh.
That question always led to an uncomfortable exchange.
Jon kept his tone neutral. “Am I going to like it?”
“Probably not. But someone needs to say it.”
“Don’t put your job in jeopardy.” The implied threat in his response ought to put a stop to this conversation.
Except it didn’t.
Kyle squared his shoulders. “I’ll take the risk—because I owe you. You took a chance on me when most people wouldn’t. On the other guys too. We felt like outcasts until you came along, and that’s a lonely place to be. I’m guessing you know about loneliness. But the thing is, you don’t have to stay in that place. I bet if you gave people in town a chance like you gave us a chance, they’d welcome you into the community. Once they got to know you, saw what’s in your heart, nothing else would matter.”
If only that were true.
Stomach clenching, Jon fisted his hands at his sides.
While Kyle’s take was plausible in theory, real life didn’t always play out that way. Not in his experience, anyway. If the woman who’d professed to love him hadn’t been able to get past his issues, how could he expect any more of strangers?
“For the record, I’m not lonely. I have Daisy.” He gave the pooch a pat.
“A dog doesn’t take the place of people.”
“Don’t tell that to this one. She’d be insulted.”
Kyle studied him. “You’ve been here two years, right?”
“Yes.”
“Have you made one friend?”
“I used to think you were one.”
“Still am, I hope.” Kyle fingered his keys. Sighed. “Sorry if I overstepped. Since I met Sarah, I’ve been thinking about you all alone out here with that crazy old lady as your nearest neighbor. You deserve more than that.”
“I’m fine, Kyle. Don’t worry about me. Enjoy your dinner with Sarah and give her my regards.”
After a brief hesitation, his foreman shrugged. “You’re the boss. But dinner is a standing invitation if you ever get tired of being a hermit.”
“I’m not a hermit. I interact with clients.”
“After putting on your protective armor. And I’m not just talking about the sunglasses, ball cap, and scarf.”
“Go home, Kyle.”
“Fine. I’m outta here. See you tomorrow.”
The man struck off for his car, slid behind the wheel, and drove down the gravel drive. Once on Windswept Way, the Nissan disappeared behind the dense hedge of vegetation that bordered the road. Total silence descended.
A silence Jon had always welcomed on his isolated rental property.
He filled his lungs with the fresh, salt-tanged air as Daisy chased after a squirrel with a happy yip, his pup the picture of utter contentment.
That made one of them.
Huffing out a breath, he furrowed his brow.