so quietly he had to lean close to catch it. Her light floral scent reminded him of their wild surroundings. For a moment, he closed his eyes and breathed her in.
“Unfair, Vivie.” He stood and brushed a maple seedpod from his pants. “I’ve worked here every day to make this possible.”
She scrambled to her feet, her expression earnest. The gold flecks in her light brown eyes gleamed. “I know. And I’m grateful every time I wake up and hear you outside. But I wish you wouldn’t be so hard on me. And Button.”
“I’m doing what’s right. Not what’s easy.” He watched a couple of rabbits grazing on white-topped clover. That was the future he wanted for the cub. He glanced back at the lumber pile. Not one that stole her freedom.
Vivie nodded and picked up another hammer. “What can I do?”
He blinked in surprise. In her blue sundress, the short hem fluttering around her legs, she resembled a princess. Not a construction worker.
“Know anything about carpentry work?” Since it was a rhetorical question, her nod caught him off guard.
“One of my stepdads had a contracting business. I can even do roofing.”
“Roofing...” he repeated, imagining her slipping on an angled roof and breaking something. He shook off the image.
“You had more than one stepfather?” he asked once he’d passed her some nails and they’d begun hammering.
“Six,” she mumbled around a mouthful of nails. Did the woman have no concern for her safety?
He unbuckled his tool belt and wrapped it around her narrow hips, his fingers a little unsteady when they grazed her. “You’re going to choke if you keep them in your mouth. Put them in the pouch.”
She spit the nails into her hand and dropped them into the pocket. “Okay, Mr. Doom and Gloom.”
“I’d rather be Sir Reality Check, if you don’t mind.”
Her eye roll said it all. “Your reality, I guess.” She resumed hammering. “Sir.”
He picked up more nails and stuffed them into his jeans pockets. “So, six stepfathers, huh? Sounds rough.” He couldn’t deny his curiosity about Vivie. She’d surprised him at every turn.
“Yeah. I guess.”
Finished with the board, they moved to the pile of lumber and carried another two-by-four to the next spot. He steadied it in place while she expertly sank nails in its base. Her aim was dead-on and the nails disappeared into the wood after two or three hits. Was it his imagination or was she smashing them harder than ever?
He knew he should leave the topic alone, but something fragile in her tone brought out his protective streak. Had she been hurt?
“Where’s your mom now?”
Her hammer slammed dead center into another nail and buried it in one blow. “Don’t know. Haven’t spoken to her in ten years.”
With her lips pressed together and her eyes narrow, all signs indicated he should change the subject, but somehow he couldn’t.
“Why’s that?”
“She didn’t exactly leave a forwarding number when she walked out on me and her latest husband.”
That sounded hard. “And how old were you?”
She stopped and gulped from her water bottle. After a long drink, she wiped her mouth and met his eyes. “Seventeen. Any more questions, Hardy boy?”
He pulled off his sweaty T-shirt. “Not really.” He began nailing another board. “Just passing time.”
Only he wasn’t. Every moment with Vivie intrigued him. He looked forward to seeing her more than he dared admit. More than was good for his peace of mind. Like her, he shouldn’t get attached...especially if he got that job in Yellowstone Park. He wondered when the résumé he’d emailed would get a response.
She moved around him and held the next piece of wood as he secured it to the foundation. “So how about you? Did you grow up with the white picket fence? Have a dog and a sister?”
“A cat and six siblings. No fence, though the Korean vegetable market on the corner had a customers-only line we couldn’t cross. Especially after my sister Mary Ann filched a mango.”
She considered him, something spooked in her expression. “Sounds like you grew up in the city.”
He pressed the beam, testing its stability, then pounded in another nail for good measure. “SoHo. My family owns a pub there and we lived in an apartment above it. Most of them still do. Mary Ann’s getting married there in August.”
She lowered her hammer. “I lived in the city when I was in culinary school.”
“Yeah? What part?”
Her hand rose to her neck and her voice grew faint. “The Bronx.”
Before he could ask her more, she hurried on, “So all nine of you, plus a cat, in one apartment? That must have been cramped.”
He forced a shrug. It had been tough, but he’d been in tighter spots... The memory of Kunar punched his throat.
“My dad died when I was seventeen, so there were only eight of us. He was a Korean War vet. It inspired my twin, Niall, and I to join the military after 9/11.”
A soft hand fell on his arm and he studied her concerned eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that, Liam. Did your mother remarry?”
Spots appeared in the corners of his vision. He sat on a nearby stump and took another swig of water. “My mom has Alzheimer’s. My oldest brother, Aiden, pretty much raised the rest of us.” Crazy that he was telling her so much. He’d only ever opened up to his battle buddies. He stared down at the water bottle, his chest aching. Now those buddies were all gone...the nearest he could get to them was atop a mountain, where he felt closest to heaven.
Vivie plunked down by his feet and handed him a wrapped cookie from her backpack. “Aiden sounds like a great brother. Want one? Raisin oatmeal.”
He bit into the chewy dessert, grateful she’d switched subjects. “Good,” he said after polishing it off in two bites.
“Thanks. One of my stepdads owned a bakery. That’s where I got started making desserts.”
“Guess it wasn’t all bad then, your childhood.”
“There were worse things,” she muttered, almost to herself.
He tried catching her eye but she stared at a copse of papery-white birches. Her shuttered expression made her look guarded and breakable. Something bad had happened to her. But what? He clamped his mouth shut before he could ask. It wasn’t his business. She wasn’t his concern...so why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?
No good would come of it.
None at all.
* * *
THE NEXT EVENING, Vivie curled up on her couch with her laptop. The farmhouse smelled pine fresh from the scrub she’d given it after her own soak in the tub. Laboring outside all afternoon, alongside a gorgeous, shirtless DEC officer no less, had been sweaty work. Not that she should be working herself into a lather over chiseled abs. This was the guy who’d almost killed Button.
And spared her, a voice whispered in her head. Would another officer have given her, and the cub, this chance? She pictured Liam working every day this week in her backyard. He never complained. Didn’t seem to tire. Always showed up. It was a far cry from a lot of the men she’d known growing up. Still, she felt better keeping an eye on him, seeing him follow through on his promises.
She should have used the extra time preparing for her certification test, but she’d studied him instead. It made no sense, but she looked forward to working, eating and talking together.