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Not a bad idea. Some lighthearted conversation—the kind most people engaged in during the early stages of a relationship—would add a touch of normalcy after the tension and stress that had characterized their interactions up to this point.
“I’m on board with that.”
They stuck to that plan during the remainder of the drive and for the next two hours as they raked and bagged leaves, snipped dead flowers, and pulled weeds in a yard long overdue for attention.
“This place really got away from the owner, didn’t it?” Bri examined the back of the house as they prepared to fill yet another bag with yard debris.
Marc inspected the peeling paint on the foundation and the back-porch railing that was missing a few slats. “Yeah. I wonder if he has any family nearby.”
“He doesn’t. I got a quick history along with the assignment. His wife died four years ago, they didn’t have children, and his few distant relatives don’t live in town. Meaning he’s on his own. The house is too much for him, but he doesn’t want to leave.”
“Understandable. Nan’s like that too. She was able to keep up with everything until she got sick, but I didn’t want her to end up like this.” He inclined his head toward the deteriorating house. “Another factor in my decision to come home.”
“You’re a good grandson.” Bri smiled at him, and the warmth radiating from her chased away the slight chill in the October air.
“She and Pops took care of me when I most needed taking care of. The least I can do is return the favor.”
“I felt the same about Mom and Dad.” She surveyed the man’s unkempt garden, filled with a tangle of weeds and frost-nipped flowers that had shriveled and died. “You want to tackle that next?”
“Sure. I think the rest of the yard is done.”
She crossed to the flower bed and lowered herself to her hands and knees while he dropped down beside her.
“This is a mess. It won’t be easy to clean it up.” She surveyed the overgrown plot.
“Second thoughts?”
After a brief hesitation, she turned to him, her demeanor serious. “Sort of.”
Uh-oh.
She wasn’t referring to the flower bed.
Bracing, he shifted toward her. “About us?”
“No.” The swiftness of her reply kick-started his heart. “About dredging up the ugliness from my past.” She prodded a clump of dirt with her index finger until it disintegrated. “But I also have to confess that jumping out of planes into wildland fires was less scary than jumping into serious dating—and that has nothing to do with you personally.”
“Why does it scare you?”
“Because relationships can go wrong or falter or fizzle out for a bunch of reasons.” She expelled a breath and faced him. “I don’t often admit to fears, but the truth is, I’m afraid of getting hurt.”
“You don’t have to worry about that with me. I won’t hurt you, Bri.”
As his assurance hung in the air between them, her complexion lost several shades of color. Fast.
Frowning, he touched her arm. “What’s wrong?”
Her throat contracted, and he had to lean close to hear her whispered reply. “That’s what ... that’s what my birth father always used to say.”
Marc’s stomach clenched.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out why she had trust issues.
A man who should have loved her, who’d assured her he wouldn’t do her harm, had reneged on that promise. And a betrayal like that from a father would leave lasting scars.
No wonder she was wary of opening up in general—and perhaps with men in particular.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He gentled his voice.
