This Time(28)

Chapter Thirteen





Two weeks after the tornado terrorized the county, Burke and his young team hammered the last nail into the Jamison porch. The uprooted cottonwood had been cut up, corded, and stacked along the side of the house for winter fires.

From atop the new roof where he inspected the last bit of work, Burke watched Belle maneuver her still dented truck down the drive.

He scurried down the ladder and greeted her in the barnyard.

"Evening, Jamison."

"Evening, Benning," she replied, getting out of the truck.

Burke pulled off his blue ball cap and turned it around so the bill was on the back on his head. He grinned as she walked toward him, the dogs clamoring about her legs, barking for attention.

She wore a tattered old cowboy hat that he recognized as once belonging to Duke. Her jeans were ripped at the knees and covered with dust. The sleeves of her plain red tee shirt were rolled up to her shoulders, and dirt smudged her sweaty, but pretty face.

Burke liked the way she looked at the end of the day, dusty and sweaty, yet still walking with her back straight and her shoulders square. Her green eyes were radiant with a zest for life, and a broad easy smile graced her lips.

"What do you think?" he asked, sweeping his arm toward the porch.

She stood back, hands on her hips, and surveyed the new structure. She looked up at him and announced, "It's the best porch in the whole county."

He let out a deep breath and smiled. "Mission accomplished," he said.

"I don't know how to thank you," Belle started. "You won't take money--"

"Have dinner with me," he said.

She studied him for a moment. Burke imagined the wheels of her mind churning as she considered his request. "Please," he simply said.

Over the past two weeks they'd worked into a comfortable routine, amiably greeting each other in the morning and evenings, Belle allowing him to touch the superficial part of her life.

After the fourth day, she began brewing a pot of fresh coffee for them to share at the dawn of the day. They discussed the day's work while sitting on the back step, sipping from their cups and watching the sunrise.

Burke heartened as he felt their friendship start to mend. Dinner, he decided, would move them away from the casual day-to-day talk of work and open the door to discuss more personal issues. Besides, he couldn't envision anything more enjoyable than spending an evening with Belle Jamison.

He pressed her one more time. "Dinner at my place?"

Her eyes met his. "Dinner sounds lovely."

An hour later, Burke had showered and tossed seasoned steaks on the grill. Humming to himself, he moved about the kitchen, tossing broccoli florets into a steamer. Fresh picked sweet corn boiled on the stove and sweet tea steamed from a crystal pitcher.

Belle hollered hello from the front room.

"In the kitchen."

"Burke," she said from the front hall. "This place is amazing."

He grinned as she appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing a white sleeveless turtleneck and dark green cargo shorts. A light touch of makeup replaced the dirt smudges. "You clean up nice, Jamison."

Her sunburned cheeks flushed a deeper red. "Don't look too bad yourself, Benning."

"So, you like the house?"

"It's beautiful. I always loved this old place… but wow."

"Grandma covered all the wood with paint, wallpaper and carpet. I found an older gentleman, Max, who's an excellent craftsman. He's been doing the work for me."

"He's a genius." Belle ran her hand along the cherry stained trim, glancing at the molding around the ceiling and then the polished hardwood floor.

Burke explained. "The kitchen is basically new; refrigerator, stove, and windows. Dean and I did most of that work while Max worked on the family room and the front hall. He just finished those. Dad, Dean and I still need to paint the walls where there's no woodwork. After that, it's the living room, then the upstairs."

"Sounds expensive," she said, arms crossed, hovering shyly in the doorway.

"Well, I plan to live here for a long time."

"The other day someone told me they saw a tabloid headline at the checkout counter declaring that you were broke," she said.

He laughed. "What tabloid was that?"

With a slight shrug, she confessed, "Didn't ask. Personally, I avoid gossip magazines."

He noticed her reservation about entering the room. Gently, he urged her to come in and sit down. "Dinner is ready. I just have to pull the steaks off the grill."

"I'll pour the tea," she volunteered as he stepped outside.

He nodded his approval, his heart palpitating when their eyes met.

They settled down to dinner and into an easy conversation about Burke's new career and the Bar J's new Web site.

"How's Duke?" he asked when he got up to fetch the tea pitcher.

"Anxious to come home."

He refilled their glasses. "Two weeks in the hospital is a long time."

"Yeah, but the doc wasn't happy with how his leg was healing. Either way, he won't be roping calves anytime soon."

"I'm free if you need an extra pair of hands," Burke offered with sincerity.