A Time to Build (Love's Time Book 2) Read online

  “It won’t be all fun and games, though. Some of those llamas are a little, um, shall we say, unpredictable,” Jillian warned.

  Everyone laughed except Corbin and Carson. Her date still looked peeved. Carson was probably wondering just what she meant by unpredictable.

  “Just watch out for Jumbo, the giant chestnut brute with white markings.” Camdon smirked. “But if he gets to you, there are some spare clothes and towels in the barn.”

  “If he gets to me?” Carson twisted to peer at the enclosure.

  “He’s the troublemaker of the bunch.” Corbin’s brittle words were like an arrow, spearing Jillian in the heart. The vet couldn’t know how much his poor choice of words would hurt Carson, could he?

  A sigh lifted Carson’s chest. He clamped his jaw as he searched the pasture for the animal in question.

  Jillian could tell the moment his gaze landed on Jumbo. His features softened. As if he’d connected with a kindred spirit.

  His forehead crinkled, and he scraped his fingers across his beard. “I’ve handled my share of horses and cattle over the years but never llamas. I may need a little training.”

  “Jillian will have to show you the ropes.” Camdon volunteered, not daring a glance her way. If he had, he would have seen the daggers she was sending in his direction. “My schedule’s pretty heavy for next week.”

  Was the whole family out to get her? So much for staying away all week.

  With narrowed eyes, she glared at the rat. And here she’d thought Camdon would be her ally. Apparently, blood was thicker than an honorary adopted membership in the Lambright family.

  “Does that work for you, Jillian?” Carson unleashed pleading eyes at her.

  If he hadn’t asked so nicely, she might have considered refusing him. But since she’d already planned to house sit anyway, how could she politely decline?

  And he would definitely need help working with the llamas, especially the spirited Jumbo.

  “Yes. I’ll help.” She tamped down a heavy sigh. Lord, just when I decided it was time to move on with my life, he comes waltzing back in. What am I supposed to do now?

  Corbin huffed, then turned and stalked toward the refreshment area without a word. Guess she wasn’t the only one unhappy with her predicament.

  Occasionally thoughts or memories of Carson flitted across her mind. Occasionally? Ha! She silently scoffed. More like a day didn’t pass without thoughts of the man. Daydreaming about how their life could have been had he stuck around Harrison. Would they have had two kids or three? Boys or girls? Which one of them would their children look like? Would they have had a boy with Carson’s dark coloring? A girl with her fair, light skin and hair? Or a combination?

  And, if she was truthful, she’d never been able to stop herself from dreaming of the day he’d come back. Now that he was here, how would she cope with him living next door, even if it was only for a couple of weeks?

  Surely, she could make her heart behave for fourteen days. Then, Carson would be off again, roaming the earth, wherever and whenever the whim hit him. And she’d still be here in Harrison. Because this was the only place she really wanted to be, part of the close-knit community where she could be herself, ugly scars and all.

  She glanced at Corbin’s stiff back until he started a conversation with a neighbor. He angled her way, and she caught his expression, hurt mingling with a bit of anger.

  Now look what she’d done. She’d aggravated the one man who’d promised her stability and permanence, the man who’d pledged his loyalty, if not his love.

  She needed to get over this infatuation with Carson.

  Hadn’t she tortured herself long enough?

  3

  Hadn’t he tortured himself enough already?

  Carson swung the heavy door back, the cool air from the sanctuary blasting him in the face. He staggered back as if he’d been punched in the gut. He’d never wanted anything to do with church growing up. He’d always waited until he heard his mom’s frustrated sigh as she planted herself in his bedroom doorway on Sunday mornings, her sweet non-judgmental voice wrangling him with guilt until he finally dragged his sorry behind out of bed.

  Now that he thought about it, his mom had always sounded frustrated back then. Mostly with him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t given her plenty to be aggravated about. But maybe it had more to do with working full time and trying to keep the media hounds from attacking their family.

  He gulped, stuffing all the memories back where they belonged. In the past.

  God, I’m here now. Ready to pay attention to what You have to say.

  He couldn’t take back the wasted years of rebellion or do anything to alleviate his regret, but he could start fresh, with a new attitude and a clean, pure heart.

  That’s what Lilly had told him, anyway.

  He didn’t think she would have lied to him. Not when her almost lifeless body lay stretched against a sterile white hospital sheet, the hideous infection from multiple skin grafts raging through her body, eating away at the once vibrant life.

  No. She had nothing to lose.

  Unlike him. He felt as if he’d lost a lifetime, and he wanted it back. Would the congregation turn their backs on him now?

  Unease and uncertainty poked him in the chest, but he forced his limbs to move. He was here now. Might as well make the best of it. Wouldn’t be the first time he was snubbed.

  God knew why he was here, had accepted his soiled heart with all the pent-up questions that he had offered. That was really all that mattered, right? That God accepted him, as beaten down and undeserving as he was?

  Carson stepped through the entryway, pushing through the mental barrier the cool air had erected.

  “Well, if it isn’t Carson Lambright. Welcome home!” A hand reached out and took hold of his, pumping his arm with a vigorous shake.

  He must have had a blank look on his face.

  “Ethel Henry. It’s been a long time. Let’s see if I can remember which grade I had you and your brother in.” Faded blue eyes squinted, a gnarled finger tapping her temple.

  “Ah. Mrs. Henry. Second grade, wasn’t it? It’s great to see you again.” He ended the handshake but kept her withered hand clasped in his.

  She’d been the only teacher in elementary school who had been able to distinguish between him and his twin. Not as if Carson hadn’t tried to test her ability from time to time. Never Camdon, though.

  “Yes. I do believe you’re right. I taught second grade for quite a few years. Such wonderful kids you all were, and such an impressionable age. I sure miss teaching.”

  “You haven’t changed a bit, Mrs. Henry. You’re still as beautiful and kind as ever. Why aren’t you still teaching?”

  She flapped her hand at him. “Pshaw, you always were a little sweetie with that flattering tongue and those beautiful eyes. Probably what kept you out of a lot of trouble back then.”

  Oh, he’d gotten in plenty of trouble in elementary school, but he chose not to bring that up.

  “It’s great to see you again, Mrs. Henry. If you’ll excuse me, I need to find Jil—, uh, my mother.”

  Mrs. Henry gave the sanctuary a thorough perusal, her neck craning in both directions. “It doesn’t look like Lessa and Ryan’s connection class has dismissed yet, but they usually sit over there.” The woman pointed to the left side of the auditorium toward the front.

  “Thanks.” He nodded and offered her another smile then made his way in that direction.

  Last night when Jillian had shown him around the barn, she mentioned that she’d be in church. She would be surprised to see him here. Probably not as much as his mother, though.

  “Carson Lambright!” This time an elderly gentleman stopped to shake hands.

  “Mr. Johnson.” He recognized the elderly Sunday School teacher.

  “It’s so good to see you. Are you home for long?” Wrinkles lined the man’s grizzled face, accustomed to working outdoors and seasoned by the sun.

  He s
hrugged. “Not sure. At least long enough to look after Remi and Mason’s animals while they’re on their honeymoon.”

  “Well, I’m sure your mother is over the moon to have you back home, for however long. So am I.” The old man’s face turned serious, his wise eyes gleaming with welcome and interest. “Listen, Carson, let’s get together for a cup of coffee while you’re here. My treat. I’d love to hear about all your adventures.” Mr. Johnson patted his shoulder and then headed off to shake hands with someone else.

  A few more smiling faces welcomed him but none that he remembered. Some people mistook him for Camdon. Always a fun thing when they were younger, but his brother probably wouldn’t appreciate that so much now, especially since he’d driven all the way out to Remi’s place to pick him up for church. Camdon had slipped into the office for a brief meeting of some sort, so Carson was quick to set them straight.

  He settled into a seat and glanced around, caught the exact second Jillian walked through the back door of the sanctuary, an oversized bag slung over a shoulder and gripping the hand of a frightened little girl.

  She scanned the back of the auditorium then nodded at someone. The duo headed toward a row off to the left. Once they reached a couple—the parents?—Jillian crouched and said something to the tyke, her knuckles grazing the girl’s cheeks until she coaxed a smile.

  Carson’s lips curved on one end, stretching an unusual muscle for him.

  What a beautiful woman Jillian had grown into. Not that she’d ever been ugly to start with, by any means, but now there was something about her that positively glowed, a beauty that simply radiated from within.

  Had she always been this way? Or was he now finally able to see past the scars to the person she’d always been? Was he that shallow?

  “Carson!” Her startled voice cut into his musing.

  He turned toward her, his lips automatically curving. What was up with this crazy grin lately? “Hey.”

  “Hey back. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

  “What? And take a chance that you might have skipped out on me?” He swallowed. Probably more truth to that than he cared to admit, especially since her only response was a hiked eyebrow.

  She shifted the bag on her shoulder and dipped those luscious lashes to flutter over creamy cheeks. “Mind if I sit with you?”

  “I’d mind if you didn’t.”

  She gave a nervous chuckle.

  He stood to let her pass, couldn’t resist leaning in and catching a whiff of her clean, relaxed scent. This time, though, he smelled something a little unusual, something he couldn’t quite identify.

  “Glue.”

  “What?”

  “You were sniffing. I probably have glue and glitter in my hair.” She blew wisps of pretty blonde hair off her eyebrows and tucked some loose strands behind an ear. The rest of it was pulled up and held in place by a clip in the back.

  “You always smell nice, whatever it is.” Unlike him. Yesterday he’d smelled worse than bad.

  “Good morning, Jillian.” Camdon slid into the row from the other side.

  “Good morning.”

  “Do you all sit together every Sunday?” Carson wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

  “Usually we can fill up most of the row.” Jillian smiled sweetly, her voice mingling with the announcements that flashed across the screen. “Your mom and Ryan, along with a couple of their married friends. Remi and Mason, when he’s in town. And Corbin, too, but he’s out on an emergency call this morning.”

  So she’d already talked to the vet this morning. Carson scrubbed a hand across his jaws, tamping down the spark of jealousy that ignited at hearing Corbin’s name again.

  He had no right to feel that way about the poor guy, and Jillian deserved to be happy. If the vet made Jillian happy, then he was all for it. Wasn’t he? If his clenched hands were any indication, the answer was no.

  “Carson, oh, honey. I can’t tell you how good it is to see you here.” Lessa wrapped an arm around his neck and pressed her cheek to his.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  In the past, he’d have tugged out of her embrace with a grimace, embarrassed and unappreciative. Not today. He welcomed her loving touch.

  Ryan joined them, extended his hand and sat down.

  The worship crew took the stage. The guitarist strummed the opening notes and issued a warm welcome.

  Something had changed, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The inside of the church looked the same. Maybe they’d swapped out the seating or updated the carpet, but the actual structure remained unchanged. But yet…the feeling, the aura, was definitely different from what he remembered.

  Maybe it had something to do with the choir. They weren’t standing up front draped in long, voluminous robes that flowed to their calves. Men and women, young and old, wore street clothes and moved in tune with the contemporary music.

  After four songs, Carson sank down in the cushioned chair.

  That’s funny. The same could be said about him.

  He looked the same on the outside. But inside? He felt like a different man than the one who walked away from his family and their tight-knit community thirteen years ago.

  And frankly, he liked the new guy better.

  ****

  “Thanks for driving me back.” Carson hopped down from the older model pickup truck and scrambled around to open Jillian’s door, but she beat him.

  “Why would I make Camdon drive you all the way out when I live right next door?” Her eyebrows arched as she nudged the door closed with an arm. “If I’d have known you were planning to come to church this morning, I would have offered a ride.”

  “Really?” He doubted it. After the brief run through of the barn the night before, she’d hopped in that giant truck and steered it straight for home without a backward glance. But what could he expect?

  She nodded, her long sleek curtain of blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. She’d unclipped her hair during the ride home, and he’d had a hard time keeping his thoughts untangled. An even tougher time keeping his hand from reaching out to touch it. To see if it was as soft and silky as he remembered.

  “Besides, I need to give you some more pointers on the llamas. We didn’t have much time yesterday.”

  “That’s because a certain vet couldn’t seem to let you out of his sight for very long.” Not that Carson had any room to talk. He’d followed her progress with his gaze all night, too.

  Her chin dipped, and she shuffled a shoe against the still dewy grass. “Yeah. Sorry about that. Corbin’s a good friend.”

  “Hmmm. Remi’s a good friend. Corbin, not so much a friend, I’d say.” He was goading her, but for the life of him he wanted to know how she really felt about the guy.

  Her head popped up, those golden flecks in her eyes glinting with anger. She squared her shoulders, hiked that cute little chin. “You’re back in town one day, Carson Lambright, and you think you know what Corbin is to me?”

  Her distress over his abrupt departure still so visible, so raw, after all these years. He deserved her ire. More than that, if he was honest. He was lucky she was even talking to him.

  “Am I wrong?” The pain in her expression split his heart wide open. If he could take the pain from her and bear it himself, he would. In a heartbeat.

  But that was impossible, and he couldn’t take back the years. Not that he would.

  He’d walked away. Ran, actually, without a backward glance. Constantly haunted by the image, his father’s lifeless body suspended from the ceiling. Forever taunted by the scolding voice.

  The night before, his dad had called him out over something stupid that happened at school. He’d gotten in trouble in class. Nothing new there.

  What was new? The divorce papers his dad had been served the night before.

  He’d stuck around until graduation, but that was it. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t go through with marriage to Jillian and the whole family thing. Hadn’t even been strong
enough for good-byes. Jillian’s sweet voice would have kept him there, but then what?

  How could he explain the need to escape the humiliation of being Connor Lambright’s son? Or his desperation to find out if he was just like his old man. Would he commit the same heinous act when things—when life—didn’t go according to plan? Would he willingly leave a grieving family to answer questions for which there were no answers?

  He’d needed time to heal. To process. To discover who he was before he could even entertain thoughts of marriage and babies.

  It had taken thirteen long years to find himself, for God to break through his hardened heart. How much longer would it have taken if he hadn’t met Lilly? If she hadn’t died, would he even be here now?

  Somehow, he trusted that God would have led him here. Back home.

  Jillian’s shoulders deflated and her head swiveled to stared off into the distance, snapping his attention back to her. Sunbeams sparkled off her golden locks. “Corbin’s a friend. We enjoy each other’s company, and he makes me feel like I’m special to him.” Her gaze landed back on him. With arms crossed, her lips pressed together in a firm line. “And his practice is here, so he’s not going anywhere.”

  Her words—the message behind the words—punctured his mood. Like a nail gun’s bam bam bam. Fast and hard, piercing that tiny dream that had always included her.

  A slight breeze ruffled loose strands of hair against her face. He reached out to tuck it behind her ear and then cradle the back of her neck like old times. But his hand paused mid-air at her gasp. Instead, he rerouted his hand, stuffing it in his pocket. “How about another lesson today?”

  She shrugged, but he suspected it was more from self-preservation than indifference. “If you’d like.”

  Anything to keep her here longer. “But only after we chow down on some of the food leftover from the reception. Remi insisted. Said she didn’t want to come home to a full fridge.” Would Jillian take him up on the offer, or would she hop in that truck and point it straight down the road again?

  “Fair enough. I’m kinda hungry.” She rubbed her belly.