Restored Dreams

Chapter One

Teaching at Lakeview Middle School is a breeze. Holding this Victorian house together is what's sapping my energy, Treasure Montgomery thought as she approached her ranch east of San Diego.

She stepped into her kitchen after a long day in the classroom, turned her back on the paint peeling off the hundred-year-old cabinets, and reached for The Thrifties.

First things first. I may as well get this over with.

The unread mail could wait. Finding another repairman to finish her upstairs bath repairs couldn't. Not when the man she'd hired to do the work had ripped up her floor, then quit.

She started making calls.

Nine calls later, she was no nearer finding a handyman she'd trust to do the work. Some of the men she talked to had even laughed at her.

"You'll pay what?"

Try me again next fall.

Get real, lady.

What am I going to do?

At the sound of a vehicle turning down her drive, Treasure glanced up. Who did she know who drove an antique truck?

Through the kitchen curtains—those needed replacing, too—she watched a tall man unfold and step out of the carefully maintained blue truck. His jean-clad legs, like parallel train tracks, were slim and straight. A wide-brimmed Stetson hat hid his face, but she had no trouble making out wide shoulders that narrowed to the belt slung low at his waist.

He was billboard handsome, and not anyone she knew, but he'd look great on her horse. Make that any horse.

Experiencing the usual uneasiness the sudden appearance of a stranger brought, Treasure froze, debating her options as she stared at the closed back door.

Lock it and pretend no one was home?

No. Aunt Bee did that. Not me.

The sound of footsteps crossing her porch caused Treasure's heartbeat to stutter, then drum in her ears.

The man's knock, as cocky as his walk, rattled the door.

"Wouldn't do to let the stranger know you'd cautiously watched his approach," Aunt Bee would have advised. Treasure patted her hair, making certain her hair tie still kept her long black hair neat, then waited a moment longer before answering the knock.

Yes? She opened the door a crack.

Miss Montgomery? the man said, and removed his hat.

Hmm. Tall. Bushy brown eyebrows overshadowed his eyes but overall, she liked his looks, although he could use a haircut. Chestnut curls hid his ears and the back collar of his denim work shirt.

She nodded.

Evening, ma'am. My name's Buck. Angela Turner called to say you got yourself in some kind of bind and could use my help.

Never trust a man with a Southern drawl, Aunt Bee always warned, an Aunt Bee-ism Treasure wanted to heed, but this man's mellow way of speaking touched something deep inside, warming her and almost making her smile.

Treasure sighed. I'm sorry, there's been a misunderstanding. You see, I teach with Angela and happened to mention that the man I'd hired quit. She never should have called you. I told her I didn't like the idea of hiring a stranger to work on my house, no matter how highly you come recommended.

Appreciate that, he said, grinning.

You're the carpenter who did the Community Hall roof?

The church, too, he said with a grin guaranteed to make women swoon.

Not Treasure. Her first night out with a devastatingly handsome man, he'd destroyed her trust. Now she was immune to good-looking men, but apparently not immune to this man's softly-spoken drawl.

Watch yourself.

Buck cleared his throat. Nice rural setting for a Victorian house. Now, if you'll just show me where—

Unnerved, she tugged on her long hair. No, I-I can't do that, but thank you. I've lived in Lakeview almost all my life.

Her stammered words rocked him back on his heels and he cocked his head. It's gonna be kinda hard to estimate the work involved if you won't let me come in.

Now she felt foolish. She hesitated a moment longer, then stepped aside. You're right. It's just that I don't have much money, and Hank, the man I'd hired, came—

Cheap? he finished with another wide grin and ducked entering the house. I understand he quit.

As he straightened, Treasure gulped. Beware men who—

No. No more -isms. This is my house now.

Aunt Bee hated men.

Even after what happened to me, I don't.

Right or wrong, a man deserved the chance to prove himself.

Even Buck?

His wide shoulders seemed to dwarf her kitchen, and her.

In need of reassurance, Treasure patted her hair again. It's the master bath, upstairs. I guess it won't hurt to just let you see.

No, ma'am.

The way he said ma'am made her feel like a queen watching her favorite knight paying homage on bended knee, a sensation she'd never experienced before.

This way. Shoving the uninvited image to the far recesses of her mind, she led him to the stairs, then started up, suddenly self-conscious, feeling his eyes on...

Not my hair, my butt.

I'm afraid the hall outside the bathroom is a mess, she murmured, turning sideways to direct his attention elsewhere as she reached the top step.

No, no. This is worse. Now his eyes are on my—

That's understandable, he said with a knowing grin. You'd have no use for me if everything was in perfect repair, now would you, ma'am?

Treasure laughed as she reached the landing and turned right. True.

Hmm. Nice view.

Treasure clenched her fists. How dare he?

She swung around, prepared to boot Buck down the stairs for his unwelcome remark and discovered him peering out the landing window at the barn and the rolling hills beyond.

Oh. That view.

Is that all yours?

I own everything to the base of those hills.

Nice, he repeated, striding toward her.

Yes, it is, she agreed, scurrying ahead of him down the hall.

You're even taller than I thought.

He stumbled on a pile of ripped out boards. I... uh see what you mean about this hall. Your repairman left quite a mess.

Today was the day he'd promised to haul this all away. Indicating another pile of debris he needed to step past, she stopped outside her bedroom door.

Chapter Two

Buck entered a room dominated by a four-poster bed and a delicate, flowery scent. Ruffled curtains covered the two dormer windows that looked out onto the drive. The door where the attractive homeowner waited must lead to her bath.

He entered the bathroom, and backed right out again. The room was small, stripped down to bare joists, the sink and commode parked in the hall.

He'd have a tough time working in here. No place for his legs when he knelt.

I had some water damage, a leaky roof, Treasure explained. When Hank ripped up the warped flooring, he found the hot water pipe corroded and just waiting to leak, too, he said. So here it sits.

Buck looked up at the bathroom ceiling. Crown molding, also damaged where water had dripped down the wall. Be a good idea to fix the roof first, he said.

True, but a new roof is not in my budget.

You're risking more damage if you put it off, ma'am. Facing major repairs if your roof supports rot. Replacing the bathroom floor is just a stop-gap remedy if the real problem is your roof. Without a good roof over your head, your property will continue to deteriorate.

I know, she said irritably.

Buck regretted upsetting Treasure. The color flooding her cheeks matched her blouse. The last thing this skittish filly needed was a lecture from a man she didn't even know.

She straightened her spine, her anger fading along with her pretty blush. Look. I inherited this house from my aunt along with its upkeep, and there's only so far a teacher's pay will stretch.

Hmm. The  lady really needed his help. I could take a look at your roof and—

No!

Buck blinked. No? What do you mean, 'no'? I only said look.

I can't afford to even have you do that. I know I need a new roof. The plumbing needs replacing, the windows caulking, the floors refinishing, and the stair rail needs to be replaced.

The stair rail? It didn't seem shaky when I—

Splinters. I only get one going down.

Been sliding down the banister? he asked with a grin, hoping to lighten the conversation.

Not lately, she said, fighting back a smile, but I drove Aunt Bee crazy doing it when I was a kid.

Lived here all your life? Buck had no problem picturing her on the stairs in pigtails and freckles, and later, hanging out on the wraparound porch with neighboring boys.

I came here to live with my aunt when I was four. Actually she was my great aunt but everyone called her Aunt Bee, so I did, too.

Her quivery voice revealed more than her words. Her aunt hadn't been gone long from her life.

Treasure's eyes made an intriguing change of color whenever her emotions came into play. Right now they were a bright green and studying him with obvious curiosity.

Sweat rolled down Buck's back. Let me see if I have things straight. You can't afford to have the job done right and just want someone to fix the floor?

He'd need to replace the pipe threatening to leak first, then the floor before bringing the bathroom fixtures in again and hooking them up.

An antique bathtub with sculptured metal legs leaned against one wall. You aiming to have that tub re-installed?

Sure. Why not?

Just checking, ma'am. You have another bath to use while the work gets done?

Yes, downstairs.

A bit inconvenient, I suspect.

Yes, it is. That's why I was counting on Hank to—. Are you through up here?

I'm done. Buck stood and backed out. Nice house.

It would be, if I could afford the repairs I mentioned.

And a few more he'd noticed, while looking around. Fifty thousand dollars would put the house-poor teacher's home in top notch shape, money he would gladly provide, scot-free.

She's not likely to accept a gift, though. Too damn proud.

He followed Treasure as she threaded her way down the narrow hall to the stairs. She looked great in slacks and could teach his class anytime.

She started down. Buck, too, the steps creaking beneath his feet. Noisy steps are easily fixed. Too bad I won't be getting a chance.

Dammit, Treasure suddenly said and, after shaking her hand, closely examined her thumb. Watch out for the banister. I forgot.

Get a splinter?

Yes, a big one, in my thumb.

Want me to help get it out?

You... I—

Ma'am, I promise not to hurt you. All you have to do is bring me a needle, and put your trust in me for a little while.

She looked doubtful, but seemed to win some inner battle before she nodded. I'll get the tweezers. She left him standing outside what must be the living room.

And some antiseptic, he said, taking charge as he strode into the sparsely furnished room and turned on the tallest lamp.

Treasure returned with the wooden handles of a sewing basket draped over her arm, tweezers and a bottle of alcohol clutched at her side. She set the basket on the table, opened the lid and poked around inside. Here, she said, giving him a needle.

Thanks. My grandmother had a sewing box like that. Let's have a look.

She stepped back, her eyes round, then glanced at her hand, shrugged, and bravely held it out to him. The clean scent wafting about her made him think of a lemon orchard after a spring rain. Her skin was soft, her palm calloused, her nails neatly trimmed. Her hand fit in his as if it belonged.

He turned her hand over.

She trembled.

Responsive, isn't she? Don't worry, ma'am. I'll try not to hurt you. The splinter's not deep.

After sterilizing the needle, he opened the wound. Just a little more. There.

He laid the needle down and picked up the tweezers. That banister doesn't need replacing. A little sanding and a few protective coats of polyurethane should do the trick.

He felt her curious gaze on him. Looking into those eyes while touching her would be a mistake. He still had work to do.

Bending over her hand, he kept his eyes on her dainty thumb. I can show you how to refinish it if you like.

Wincing, she made a fist with her free hand.

Easy, he said, pausing with the tweezers above her hand. It's almost out. There.

She sighed, causing his unruly hair to flutter. Then, like a little child, pulled back her arm.

His swift, unexpected erection was anything but childlike. Wouldn't hurt to put some antiseptic and a bandage on that, he said, his voice strained.

With a sheepish grin she nodded. I will. Following a quick glance toward the back door, she began escorting him out.

Grabbing his hat, he paused before putting it on. About those repairs—

No. You won't do.

Mind telling me why?

"It's just not a good idea. I'd want to be here when you work because I don't know you very well. I wouldn't be comfortable letting a stranger come and go when he pleases. Besides, I leave for work early. I'd have to give you a key and... I don't know you. That's all. It's just not good," she said, a haunted expression in her eyes.

And regret.

He grinned, a good old boy grin not intended to woo the lady but to gain her trust. Bet you could learn to like me, ma'am, if you tried.

She shook her head. No. Not likely, was what she really meant, he knew. I'm sorry. It's just... No. I can't.

"That's too bad. I'd like to help you. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a card. If you change your mind, my cell number is on this."

He tossed the card on the counter nearest the phone, then strode to the door and opened it, remembering to duck his head. 'Bye, Miss Montgomery. Nice meetin' you.

Buck could feel Treasure watching him as he drove away. What was her problem? She'd acted as if she were afraid of him. "I don't know you." In the Biblical sense?

Well, no, certainly not yet.

Not that he'd object to Treasure sharing his bed. She was one desirable woman. Neat body. Trim ankles. Even with the slacks she wore, he could tell she had fine legs.

Great hair, too. Her long, shiny tresses had stayed neat, even after teaching all day. She even smelled good. Skittish as a newborn colt, though.

The trait set his blood on fire. The lady had problems, that much was clear, money problems, and worse, problems with trust. He could understand her financial difficulties, owning a house she could ill afford, but not this thing with trust. Folks didn't come into the world distrustful. That character flaw had to be learned.

Sometime in the past had someone done Treasure wrong?

He'd like to kill the bastard who'd put that haunted look in her eyes. Why would she let him take her hand and remove her splinter, yet refuse to hire him to do her repairs?

"I don't know you," she'd insisted.

Well, if he had his way, she soon would.

Chapter Three

Buck drove away just as darkness settled on Treasure's ranch, reminding her that she needed to stable her horse for the night. Troubled thoughts kept her company as she walked down to the barn in the fading warmth of the early October evening.

"Free and clear," Aunt Bee's lawyer had said about the house left in her will to the great niece she'd raised.

Humph. No way was maintaining the house free, and she'd never be clear of debt if she properly kept up the property. Too many acres, too many square feet of roof threatening to leak on her when the winter rains began.

Just last month she'd asked a painter to estimate the cost of painting the outside and discovered she couldn't cover the cost of the paint, let alone pay someone to do the work. Maybe she'd learn to paint next summer and...

Yeah, right. She'd need to win the lottery first, just to pay for the paint in eight months.

Lightning saw her coming down the path and raced for the gate leading to the barn, her golden tail held high.

The handsome cowboy was right about one thing. Fixing the bathroom wouldn't end her problems. Next time it rained...

Could a roof as steep as hers be tarred?

But then it wouldn't go with the rest of my house.

No way could she afford a new roof.

From what Hank said this morning, she might not have enough set aside to cover the bathroom repairs. If not, what could she do?

If only I had a brother to ask.

Lightning pricked up her ears, looking as if she'd understood.

Aunt Bee never trusted men, she told the mare as she led her inside and began currying her thick coat. She allowed very few repairmen to enter her house. That's why the house is in such miserable shape.

Knowing some of her aunt's distrust of men had rubbed off on her, Treasure doubted she'd find anyone she could rely on to do the needed work.

It's a good thing Aunt Bee isn't here, Lightning. Remember how she never allowed men on the place? Treasure patted the horse's soft nose. A muffled whicker rewarded her.

'All my problems started with a man,' Aunt Bee used to say, and, 'I wouldn't trust a man as far as I could throw one.' The thing is, if Aunt Bee had let workmen into this house and kept it up, this place wouldn't be in the run-down state it's in now."

Treasure laughed a mirthless laugh. She never said who, she told Lightning, running a brush through her soft fur, but from the rumors I've heard, my aunt had ample reason for her distrust. The man who'd offered to marry her talked her out of her inheritance. Promised to double her investment, and his, by their wedding day, then left town. She never heard from him again. It turned her against men, I'm convinced.

Treasure put away the grooming tools, then forked a flake of alfalfa hay into Lightning's stall.

Left Aunt Bee embittered and penniless. She lacked any saleable skills. Forced her to accept the piddling jobs no one else wanted. Sewing, ironing, she even scrubbed floors when money was scarce. Maybe I should find a second job.

Treasure turned off the lantern. Have a good-night.

*****

Curious about the new roof on the Community Hall, Treasure stopped by there late Saturday afternoon.

From the parking lot, the roof looked good, so she strolled inside.

The water stain on the ceiling above the stage had magically disappeared. Amazing what a new coat of paint could hide.

There you are.

Angela. I thought you and Brad had a date.

The self-proclaimed faculty diva smiled.

Later. I saw your car parked outside and came in to see what you were up to. She glanced at the newly painted ceiling. Good work, and reasonable, according to the mayor.

What? Treasure asked, frowning at her coworker.

Not what. Who. Buck. Gave the Town Council a great deal on the new roof, from what I heard.

Word has it some of those rafters needed replacing. With a new roof covering them, how can the Council be sure the work was properly done? Treasure asked.

The Mayor kept an eye on him. Not that he needed to. Anyone who would save the town fathers so much money on a new roof couldn't possibly be a crook.

Where did you say Buck came from?

I didn't say, because he didn't tell me. Angela flipped her long, unruly hair out of her face. "Not that I didn't try to find out. When the Mayor told me the good-looking guy I'd seen hanging out at the Center was actually the man he'd hired to put on a new roof I came to full alert. Especially when I learned he was staying in the campground but didn't plan to be in town long. I drove right out to Restful Dreams and introduced myself. Invited Buck to my house for a home cooked meal.

"I wouldn't take no for