Baby, Come Home

Nikki patted his arm. “All done. Leave it wrapped for a few days. You’ll probably lose the nail, and it’ll be tender for a couple of weeks. Use the antibiotic ointment to stave off infection.”

“Thanks,” he murmured, then stood and walked to the door, trying not to limp.

“Kendall.”

He turned back.

“Why don’t you and Porter join me and Amy for dinner tonight at the boardinghouse?”

He hesitated. “I don’t know…”

“It’s the hospitable thing to do, don’t you think? To welcome her home?”

He nodded. “Okay. See you later. Thanks again.”

Kendall left the exam room and walked out into the waiting area, looking right and left. To his relief, Rachel was nowhere in sight. But neither was Amy. He practically ran to the door and out into the cool air. He spotted an unfamiliar burgundy SUV with a Michigan license plate and wondered if it belonged to Amy. The color reminded him of her deep auburn hair. It was empty. He glanced all around, but didn’t see her.

Kendall pulled out his phone and dialed Marcus, determined to get to the bottom of Amy’s appearance. When he didn’t answer, Kendall lit out walking toward the construction office. By the time he reached the steps leading up to the trailer, his foot throbbed and his temper had ballooned into something he’d never experienced. He burst through the door. Marcus was sitting behind his desk, just disconnecting a call on his cell phone.

“What did you do to your hand?”

Kendall fisted his injured hand. “Cut the crap, Marcus. Amy Bradshaw? You hired Amy Bradshaw to rebuild Evermore Bridge?”

Marcus sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Actually, she’s only going to design the bridge. You’re going to build it.”

“And you didn’t think it was worth mentioning to me?”

Marcus pursed his mouth. “You were busy getting the presentation together. I told you I’d find a structural engineer, and I did. I guess you ran into her?”

Kendall put both hands on Marcus’s desk, his blood pressure rising. “Blindsided is more like it.”

“Funny, she didn’t mention it.”

Kendall straightened. “She was here?”

“Of course. She wanted to discuss the project. I told her she should get settled in first, then we could all meet tomorrow afternoon for a conference call with our contact on the Preservation Society.”

“So she’s at the boardinghouse?”

“No. She wanted to get right to work. She borrowed a four-wheeler to ride out to the site—”

Kendall didn’t hear the end of the sentence—he was already out the door. He bounded down the steps, jogged to where several ATVs were parked and climbed on one. Working the hand grips hurt his thumb, but he welcomed the pain—it cut through the mush in his head. He steered the four-wheeler toward a side trail that ran parallel to the main road and led to the site where the covered bridge had once stood. As the cool air rushed by him, he tried to think of what he was going to say to Amy, but everything sounded lame and inadequate. Long time no see. How’s life been treating you? I’ve missed you every day we’ve been apart.

As he approached the area and spotted the ATV she’d parked, his stomach churned. The fact that she’d known she was coming here and hadn’t contacted him spoke volumes, didn’t it?

Maybe there was nothing to say.

He pulled the four-wheeler next to the one parked and cut the engine. He couldn’t see her through the trees, but he walked toward the area where the old bridge used to stand. When she came into view, his feet slowed and his heart sped up. Amy had set up a tripod and was bent over, looking through the camera lens. Her trim, athletic figure was silhouetted against the blue sky. She was all business in her slacks, tailored jacket and field boots, but the wind ruffled her luxurious hair that had escaped from a clasp at her neck.

She was, in a word, breathtaking.

He was sure she’d heard the four-wheeler, probably knew she was being observed. But if he wanted proof he couldn’t rattle her, he had it, because as he walked closer, she didn’t move, just kept snapping away. He stopped a couple of yards away.

“Hello, Amy.”

She stopped and glanced up. “Hello, Kendall.” Then she picked up a folded screen and extended it. “Would you mind holding this in front of the sun so I can get a few more shots?”

Her voice was the same, but her accent had changed—her pronunciation was more precise and more…Northern. He stepped forward and took the screen, feeling thoroughly dismissed. He fumbled with it, but finally opened it and held it up.

“A little to the left, please.”

He obeyed, flashing back to earlier when Rachel had been giving him similar directions.

“More to the left…and higher.”

Kendall poked his tongue into his cheek. “Is this how it’s going to be?”

She lifted her head, but was looking at the future bridge site, not at him. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “I mean, it’s been ten years. Don’t you think we should talk?”

“Twelve.” She snapped a few more photos, then straightened and looked at him. “It’s been over twelve years.”

He swallowed under the full force of her stare. If possible, she was more beautiful now than the last time he’d seen her. Gone was the gangly freckle-faced teenage lover who’d followed him around. Here stood a woman who’d grown into her skin and her looks and who had an aloof air about her that…well, frankly, impressed him.

And worried him.

Amy’s eyebrow arched. “So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

He gave a little shrug. “How have you been?”

“I’m fine,” she said in a tone that indicated she was surprised he’d think otherwise.

“I hear you’re a structural engineer.”

“That’s right,” she said. “My resume isn’t as exciting as yours, but I’ve stayed busy.”

“Who said my resume is exciting?” Kendall asked, wondering if Amy had kept tabs on him over the years.

It was her turn to shrug. “I just assumed that if you’ve been in the Air Force all this time, you’ve been involved in some interesting things. Actually, I’m surprised you didn’t make the Air Force a career.”

I missed you too much. “I missed…my brothers.”

She offered a flat smile. “Of course. Well, it seems as if you’ve found a way to be together again. And always.”

Kendall detected censure in her voice. “You don’t approve of our efforts to rebuild Sweetness?”

“I don’t disapprove. I just don’t understand why you’d want to rebuild the town.” She leaned over her camera and snapped more photos. “I suppose you have better memories of this place than I do.”