“We just work together, Rachel. Don’t create something out of nothing.” But even as he said the words, he wanted to go apologize to Laurel. He should’ve stayed home tonight with his dog.
Chapter Thirteen
At exactly noon on Sunday, Laurel waited inside the silent barn, the chill creeping up from the packed-dirt floor, through her boots, and into her bones. The wind whistled outside at a higher note than usual, and the temperature had dropped again. A vehicle rumbled loudly and came to a stop, and she hustled to open the door. Outside, a Chevy truck built in the nineties, faded red and white, was parked near her SUV.
A man jumped out and leaned back in, pulling out a dirty-blond-haired woman in a blue parka whom he hoisted up on his back. He was grinning as he did so and then caught Laurel’s eye and strode through the snowy trail to reach her. Tommy Bearing and Davie Tate leaped out of the back seat, both carrying backpacks and wearing gloves and hats.
“Hi. I’m Jason Abbott, and my backpack is called Haylee Johnson.” He reached out a gloved hand and shook. He stood about six feet tall and had thick brown hair, dark blue eyes, and a close-cut beard. “She’s from Arizona and hasn’t figured out how to dress for the weather here yet.”
Haylee snorted, her arms wrapped securely around his neck. “Maybe I just like my fiancé carrying me around.” When he twisted and set her down inside the barn next to Laurel, she stretched to regain her balance. “Hi.” She held out a white-fluffy-mitten-covered hand. “I’m Haylee, and I’m in charge of scheduling as well as outside landscaping.” She viewed the surrounding trees. “You could have a nice lawn with flowers in front of the barn. Native ones that will spread naturally.”
Jason looked at the kids. “You guys take measurements outside first and then come inside to do the same. Double check and do it twice.” He turned and looked inside. “Oh, this place is awesome.”
Laurel moved back to allow him inside. “Thank you.” She studied the young couple. “My uncle mentioned that you took over Mr. Brewerston’s business last year after he died?”
Jason nodded, moving along the wall and looking up to the rafters. “Yeah. I worked with Harvey for only a year before his heart gave out. Prior to that, I commuted from here and worked with Smith and Lertin out of Seattle, but I didn’t like the big city.” He kept moving, tapping the weathered boards as he moved. “I’ve only lived in Genesis Valley for three years, but I attended school in Minnesota, and we know snow there. And how to design a structure for this climate.” He glanced her way. “I can send you references if you like.”
“I would appreciate that,” Laurel said, listening to the kids argue about who got to take the first measurements outside. “It’s nice of you all to come out on a Sunday.”
Haylee rocked back on her slim boots. “We’re happy to be here. It’s been tough since Harvey passed on, and we’re in a rebuilding phase.” She giggled. “Pun intended.”
Jason snorted. “You are such a dork.”
“You love a dork,” she retorted, walking to the middle of the barn and looking around. “This is such a large space. Just think what you can do with it.” Her voice echoed softly in the area.
Jason drew a notebook from his backpack and strode to the middle. “What are you thinking?”
Laurel pictured the ideal layout in her head and spelled it out clearly, watching Jason quickly sketch on paper. He had talent. For drawing, anyway. Hopefully he’d be good at the architecture as well.
He nodded. “Space wise, what’s more important? The closet or the office?”
“The office.” There was no question on that one. “But I do want the three rooms upstairs to each have big windows with a view of the creek outside. For the bathroom, I’d like a claw foot tub against the window.”
Jason altered his sketch, scribbling out a line.
As Laurel described her thoughts for the office, something hit the outside of the barn.
Jason sighed and his voice rose loud enough to be heard outside. “Knock it off, you morons. Get the job done, and we’ll have a snowball fight back at the office. Haylee and me against you.” He winced. “Sorry about that. They’re usually more professional.”
Haylee snorted. “No, they’re not. We’re barely grownups in this business. NowIcan’t wait for the snowball fight.”
Laurel kicked a rock out of her way. “It’s kind of you to hire them.”
“I need them,” Jason said, looking toward the back of the barn and sketching out a double door opening to what appeared to be a deck. “We added the snowplowing part of the business last year just to keep us afloat, and they do a good job shoveling out the areas I can’t reach with the plow. Plus, they’re willing to work on weekends.”
Laurel scrutinized boards high above that would probably need to be replaced. “I’ve heard that Tommy has exhibited behavioral problems.”
Jason’s eyebrow rose. “Stupid rumors in a small town. You can’t believe them.” He flipped the page over and kept sketching. “Being the mayor’s kid can’t be easy, either.”
Haylee slapped his arm. “Don’t say that. The mayor and his wife have been great about sending us clients, and they’ve all but taken in Davie, who’s a sweetheart.”
Laurel paused. “They’ve taken in Davie?”
“No,” Jason said, continuing to draw. “Davie’s mom works for a housekeeping service in Seattle and has been trying to find work here but not having much luck. She’s overworked but seems like a kind lady. The kids spend a lot of time with each other. They’re in high school, Haylee. That’s normal.”
Haylee nodded.
Laurel mulled over the situation. “Do either of you know a Dr. Charlene Rox or Dr. Sharon Lamber?”
