you.” She returned the clipboard after removing the customer copy for her records.
“My pleasure.” The young man’s gaze lingered on her a second or two longer than necessary before he turned and left.
He wasn’t the only one to stare at her with undisguised interest. Jolyn had received similar looks from the clerk at the county office when she pulled the permit, two of the framers and the guy who operated the front-end loader when they’d excavated the ground. His daughter had once competed against Jolyn in barrel-racing events.
Evidently, men in these parts weren’t accustomed to dealing with a woman contractor. Their interest ranged from blatantly sexual to mildly curious. And while no one had shown her any disrespect, a few of the men had been borderline condescending. If that was the worst treatment she received, she’d consider herself lucky.
Jolyn walked the perimeter of the foundation and watched the trio of finishers with their long-handled bull floats transform the rough bed of concrete into a smooth, clean expanse. In this heat, the concrete would solidify within a couple of hours. Tomorrow, they would start framing the exterior walls.
Confident everything was going well, she went to her truck. Opening one of the side-mounted toolboxes, she dug around for a tape measure and a level, which, to her annoyance, weren’t in the last place she’d left them.
She heard Mandy’s small voice behind her.
“Whatcha doing?”
“Hey there.” Jolyn extracted the tape measure with a triumphant grin. “I’m looking for this. And a level. What are you doing?”
“Nothing. I’m bored.”
Two dogs sat at Mandy’s heels, purple and pink leashes attached to their collars. One was short, squat and pitifully ugly, the other a shepherd mix with half of one ear missing. As a kid, Chase was forever dragging home stray or injured animals. Jolyn suspected not much had changed in that regard.
“Can I watch you work for a while?”
“If it’s okay with your dad.” She thought Mandy looked more unhappy than bored.
“He’s still inside talking to Mrs. Payne. She’s watching me today,” Mandy said. “After she’s done washing the dishes and folding the laundry, she’s taking me to her house. She doesn’t have satellite TV, you know.”
“Bummer.” Jolyn resumed rummaging in the toolbox for the level.
“Yeah.” Mandy sighed.
“What about games?” Jolyn asked, wondering if the lack of satellite TV was the only reason for Mandy’s dejection.
“Mrs. Payne doesn’t play games. She sews quilts.”
Jolyn finally located the level, which was buried at the very bottom. “Let me guess. You don’t like to sew quilts.”
“I like to dance.”
“I saw you at the recital last week. You were good.” When Jolyn crossed the yard to the concrete pad, Mandy and the dogs followed her.
“Are you a dancer?”
“Me? No.” Jolyn caught the attention of the closest finisher and pointed to a rough patch that needed smoothing. “I took lessons for a while, then quit.” She winked at Mandy. “I didn’t have your talent.”
“Dad says you and him used to show horses together. Mommy, too.”
“That’s right,” Jolyn said distractedly. With some difficulty, she knelt on the ground and lowered her head until it was even with the pad, visually inspecting it. “Your mom and I were best friends.”
“You were!”
Jolyn cranked her head around. “Your dad didn’t tell you?”
“No.” Mandy’s face reflected a mixture of surprise, delight and disappointment. “He said you were friends, but not best friends.”
“Since we were younger than you.” Jolyn tried to stand but her right leg refused to support her weight. Wincing with pain, she braced her hands on her bent left knee and waited a moment to catch her breath before trying to rise again.
“You okay?” Mandy asked.
“My leg’s a little sore today.”
Sore didn’t begin to describe how it felt. Jolyn had been pushing herself hard for weeks now—driving great distances, walking more than usual, tackling the repairs at Cutter’s Market and her new office and riding Sinbad whenever she had a spare hour.
“Need help?” Mandy took Jolyn by the elbow and tugged.
Despite the little girl’s spindly arms, she impressed Jolyn by managing to hoist her to her feet.
“Those dance lessons have obviously paid off.”
“What?” Mandy furrowed her small, freckled brow.
“I was making a joke.” Huffing, Jolyn smoothed the girl’s hair. “Evidently a bad one.”
“Dad says you hurt your leg when you fell from your horse but I’m not supposed to ask you about it because you might be…” She scrunched her mouth to one side. “Sensitive.”
Jolyn laughed. “You can ask me any questions you want. I don’t mind.”
“I’d rather you tell me about my mother.”
She really should get back to work, but the desperation on Mandy’s face tugged at Jolyn’s heart. She didn’t understand how SherryAnne could leave her child behind and visit only once during the last two years. Surely professional rodeo riders got vacations once in a while.
“You look like her.”
“Everybody tells me that.”
“It’s true.” Jolyn’s mother was deluding herself if she thought she saw something of Jolyn in Mandy. “But you act more like your dad.”
“He didn’t eat his vegetables, either?”
“Okay,” Jolyn conceded, “there may be a few differences between you.”
“And he likes horses more than I do. I’ve got a pony and everything, but I’d rather dance.”
No, Mandy was definitely not the least bit like Jolyn. “You’re nice like he is. And sweet. Kind of quiet, too, until you get to know somebody.”
SherryAnne had always been a loud whirlwind of a person, who existed at the center of her own world. She’d alternate between lavishing affection on her friends and snubbing them.
Her and Jolyn’s relationship had been a complex one—they were friends, but also rivals. Jolyn diligently kept that rivalry restricted to the horse arena, refusing to let it involve Chase. She’d clearly made the right decision, because she and Chase had remained close through the years.
The same wasn’t true for her and SherryAnne. They’d hardly spoken after SherryAnne’s affair with Steven was discovered and not at all since Jolyn left Blue Ridge.
“What did you and Mommy do together?”
Jolyn concentrated on the good memories, those before high school when Chase went from being a boy in their class to SherryAnne’s love interest.
“You probably won’t believe this but your mom adored Barbie dolls. I think she must have had five or six and a few of Barbie’s friends.”
Mandy’s face lit up. “I have Barbies, too.”
“When we were a little older, we used to go to Cutter’s Market pretty much every day. Mostly we rode our horses but sometimes we took our bikes or walked. You mom would buy the latest teen magazine and cut out pictures of all the cute boys. Then she’d tape the pictures to the wall behind her bed.”
“Really?”