Page 41 of Coveted By the Bear

No longer would he come over and work on my house. I didn’t have to avoid my home or the man who held my emotions in his careless hand. I also wouldn’t have a chance to see him, and my house would feel emptier without proof of his being there.

I turned slowly. Sadey’s little green hatchback made its way up the dirt road. A shaky breath of relief escaped my parted lips, and I waved with the paintbrush.

Sadey shut the car door, and it echoed into the emptiness of my land below. “Caleb said you could probably use some help today.”

If only the sound of his name didn’t cut a slice through my middle. “You want to use your Saturday to help me paint?”

She shrugged and grabbed a paintbrush before she wrestled her cellphone out of the back pocket of her jeans. “I’m grounded. Dad said the only acceptable reason for me to leave the house would be manual labor. I told him a friend needed help painting. I have to send him pictures on the hour, every hour.” The phone clicked as she smirked in front of it with a paintbrush placed below her nose like a mustache.

I stood to unscrew the shutter closest to me. “You could paint the shutters so we can get them drying in the yard if you want. What are you grounded for?”

“Broke curfew. By, like, ten minutes. He’s freaking out. You’re so lucky you don’t have anyone bossing you around.”

I didn’t agree but didn’t say so. Her dad loved her. He wouldn’t stress about her curfew if he didn’t. I would have given my kneecaps to have someone care about me in such a way. She didn’t need to be reminded about how pathetic my life was, though. Sadey just needed someone to listen while she vented.

I turned on the radio Caleb had left behind, and we got to work. The time passed a lot more quickly with the easy conversation Sadey provided, and by the time the sun hung halfway over the horizon, we had finished three sides of the house. The back was the only side left bare. We stood back and admired our work.

Sadey picked paint off her hands while she surveyed the improvement, and the corner of her mouth turned up in a satisfied grin. “Not too shabby, Fletcher.”

“I’d live here.”

Sadey snorted. “Please. You’d live in a rat hole and make it work for you.”

“Hey, a rat hole is a home, too.”

There was no comparison between the shack that had barely stood upright on my property three weeks ago and this house. It was no longer one and a half stories of moldy dilapidation. It was one and half stories of charming, invulnerable, homey abode. The front porch railings were whitewashed to match the house’s siding, and the window frames were painted in the dark blue of the shutters. We had even given the front door a fresh coat. By tomorrow evening, the outside would be completely painted and finished. A tension that had settled directly into the middle of my back eased at the thought.

Sadey interrupted the serenity. “You coming to the Founder’s Parade?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? I don’t think anyone would appreciate me ruining their fun.”

“I know someone who wouldn’t mind you being there,” Sadey said softly with her eyebrows arched.

“Who?”

“All I’m saying is Caleb is going to be in one of the floats. Well, not really a float. My brothers are riding with my dad in one of his fancy old cars.”

I scrunched up my nose. “Your family has its own float?”

“All of the founding ancestors do. The Smiths, the Kleinfelds. The Hudsons have no living relations, but the Whitakers, Samsons, and McCreedys are still holding strong.”

“Hmph,” I said amusedly. “I guess my invitation got lost in the mail.”

“Oh, my gosh. I totally forgot about the Fletchers. Whoa,” she breathed. “That’s so messed up.”

I shrugged. I couldn’t blame the town for excluding my family. Who wanted a float full of crazy people to ruin their parade?

“That settles it then. You are a founding ancestor. You should at least attend the parade.”

I sighed in resignation. “Opal did invite me to sit on the second floor balcony of the pie shop. She said I could invite a friend.”

“Fantastic. It’ll be the perfect perch to spy on cute boys.”

My boy-crazy friend and boss would be much more entertaining than any old parade. I looped an arm around her neck and leaned against her shoulder. “Come on into the shop before the parade. We’re locking the doors at five till. I’ll buy you a sandwich, and we can eat lunch while we watch.”

****

Caleb