Finding Home (Montana Born Homecoming Book 2) Read Free Page B

really you?”
    How quickly she’d collected herself, put up her shield and donned the guarded face she presented to her unknown and potentially hostile world.
    “In the flesh,” he answered. He forced himself to smile. “And in shock. You’re not about to turn into a totally traumatized Girl Guide selling cookies to a man who’s seeing things, are you?”
    Her cheeks colored and a smile, an authentic one, broke through the mask.
    Tod appeared then, clicking off his cell phone and slipping it into the breast pocket of his monkey suit. As usual, he seemed oblivious.
    “Good, you’re both here. Logan Stafford, general contractor, meet Samara Davis, purchaser. Nice job, Staff.”
    Staff. As if they were friends. As if Tod Styles knew plywood from cork board.
    He wasn’t just the general, either.
    “Listen,” said Tod, “I’ve got to run. Lock up when you leave, Staff.”
    “I will, Tod.”
    Like he did every single day.
    Sam turned to the door then, as if remembering something. “Tod, hang on a second.”
    But it was too late.
    Then the penny dropped for Logan.
    “Wait. You’re the purchaser?”
    “Me, my daughter, Jade and her dog, Bob.”
    “ You’re S. Kim? You bought this house?”
    He recalled the name on the transfer papers, the new owner purchasing this neglected beauty from the city.
    She nodded, as if unsure how to react to his shock. “Kim’s my married name.”
    Of course she was married. A woman like her would hardly have stayed single.
    And of course, Samara’s marital status was absolutely none of his business.
    “Good,” he said, like she needed his permission or something. “Lucky guy! Can’t wait to meet him.”
    Shut up, Logan!
    “You won’t,” she said, stepping around him. “He passed away.”
    A widow. That’s how a woman like her would be single.

Chapter Three
    ‡
    N ot married. No daddy. Relief surged through him, followed immediately by shame. What kind of a selfish jerk was he?
    He could feel his mouth opening and closing. Thank goodness no sound was coming out.
    The kid squirmed and Sam put her on the floor.
    “Stay with me, honey,” said Sam, gesturing to her daughter. “What do you think of our new old house?”
    “I wanna go home.” The little girl plunked herself down on the hardwood and crossed her arms. The dog promptly flopped down beside her, as if her sole purpose in life was to hang with this kid.
    “So, let me get this straight,” said Logan, brushing over the whole widow-situation, “you’re S. Kim and you’re moving to Marietta? Coming back, with your daughter and your dog. After all this time?”
    She nodded. “Long story. Anyway, I’m back and moving in next Friday. I wanted to check in.”
    She straightened up and began moving down the hallway to the kitchen.
    “This is the first time I’m seeing it in person,” she continued. “I found out about it from my agent in New York. I’m a teacher myself – well, I was before Jade – so I’m thrilled to be part of a project like this.”
    There was pride and excitement in her voice.
    “Yeah,” said Logan, as his heart sank.
    He heard her footsteps stop abruptly. She’d found the kitchen, then. The kitchen, where the plumbers were still working to connect the original iron sink to modern up-to-code pipes. The kitchen, where his students were slowly and painstakingly installing the slate flooring. The kitchen, which was still at least a week away from completion.
    She turned to him. “How long will that take? It’s supposed to be approved for occupancy by now. I’m moving in next week.”
    They’d managed to stick to the budget, because of the free labor, but the free labor had, yeah, put them behind schedule.
    Then she frowned, as if remembering that Tod Styles had referred to him as the general contractor.
    “If you’re in charge, then you can speed things up, right?”
    Logan ran a hand over his face. “I am in charge. I’m the curriculum designer, teaching out of Livingston