Mending Fences

He scanned the picture Laura presented, starting at her bare feet with toenails painted bright purple. She wore khaki shorts and a matching T-shirt.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. The door to the barn is locked. Can I have the key?”

“Give me a minute and I’ll join you. I need to go through my dad’s stuff anyway.”

Jack shifted his box. He didn’t want her invading his space, distracting him. “It’s dirty out there, I can handle it.”

“What, I can’t get dirty?” Laura reached for a key tied to a faded blue ribbon and handed it to him. “I’ll meet you in a few minutes.”

Jack stood staring at the doorknob, key in hand. It’d been a long time since he’d noticed another woman with interest. It was impossible not to notice Laura Toivo. Losing Joanne had left a gaping hole in his life, but he was finally putting it back together. Building a secure environment for his daughter Angie. He didn’t have the time or energy to date.

If only he didn’t find tall, blue-eyed blondes attractive…

JENNA MINDEL

Originally from central New York State, Jenna Mindel lives in northwestern Michigan with her husband and their three dogs. She loves activity that’s conducive to daydreaming, whether it’s walking the woods, picking mushrooms and berries, fall leaf peeping or zipping along nearby snowmobile trails on her Polaris 600 Classic.

Jenna’s always been a dreamer. From the time she was a kid, she relished the dashing heroes and feisty heroines found in fairy tales. She completed her first illustrated novel, a romance, in sixth grade.

In a rush to grow up, Jenna graduated high school a year early and went to college in pursuit of a career—changing majors faster than the seasons and forgetting all about her love of story. After marrying her college sweetheart, Jenna landed a job in banking that has spanned more than twenty years and several positions.

In the midst of her corporate climb, Jenna joined Romance Writers of America and her love for romantic stories was reborn. Ten years later in 2001, her first Traditional Regency was published, and in 2006 Jenna became a RITA® Award finalist. But the world of contemporary Christian romance beckoned, and Jenna answered the call to write the books of her heart.

Mending Fences

Jenna Mindel

“By wisdom a house is built, and through understanding it is established; through knowledge its rooms are filled with rare and beautiful treasures.”

—Proverbs 24:3–4

In memory of a dear friend, Amber Schalk

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Laura Toivo stopped by her assistant’s desk before she went home to change. “Cindy, are the reservations for tonight’s dinner meeting set for eight o’clock?”

“They are.” Cindy, at twenty-six, was five years Laura’s junior, but every bit as hungry for success. “Close the Albertson deal and you’ll get promoted to senior sales exec.”

Laura drummed a pencil against her lips. Everyone knew she’d thrown her name in the hat. She wanted to move up. A promotion might be hers if she succeeded. After years of proving herself, it boiled down to the outcome of tonight’s meeting. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

Closing a deal was the sweetest side of sales. When everything clicked, it was like celebrating a lucrative marriage—one she hoped to make happen with Albertson Manufacturing.

Not that she knew anything about marriage. Once upon a time, she’d longed for a husband, house and kids. But that was before she’d had a taste of domestic life. After a brief engagement fraught with tension due to her fiancé’s young daughter, Laura had had enough. Or rather, her fiancé did by breaking it off nine months ago.

Laura scanned her list of cell phone messages. Too many to follow up on tonight. She rolled her shoulders to stretch out the knot of tension that had become a permanent fixture in the middle of her back. There was only one person she could count on. Herself.

“Laura? Anthony from corporate is on line three,” Cindy said.

The knot pulled tighter. Speaking of her ex-fiancé… “I’ll take it at my desk.”

Stepping into her gunmetal-gray cubicle, Laura slipped off her headset and picked up her phone. “Hey, Anthony.”

“I knew you’d be working late.” His voice was soft, but carried a hint of regret. Or maybe it was condemnation.

“I heard you’ve got a big deal going with a plastics company. Keep it up, you’re getting noticed.”

“Thanks.” Laura traced the buttons of her phone with her fingertip.

“I called because…well, I’m getting married.”

Laura closed her eyes. He’d set a speed record, even for a rebound relationship.

“Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”

“Congratulations.” Her well wishes sounded dull. Lifeless.

“She’s Brooke’s teacher. You’d like her.”

Brooke was Anthony’s obnoxious seven-year-old. Laura couldn’t please the girl no matter what she did or didn’t do. Obviously, the kid had bonded with her teacher. So had Anthony.

She spotted her direct line blinking and jumped at the chance to end the sensation of her heart bleeding all over her desk. “I’m happy for you, Anthony, really I am, but I’ve got another call.”

She heard him sigh. How many times had he accused her of putting work first? When he’d made her choose between work and him, work always won. Work didn’t hurt her. “Take care, okay?”

“You, too.” She connected with the other line. “Laura Toivo.”

“Laura, you have to come home, your mother’s had a stroke.” Her aunt’s frantic voice rang through the phone.

“How bad?”

“We don’t know yet, honey. She’s in ICU. She needs you. We both do.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Laura stared through the glass partition at Cindy.

Laura had to make that meeting. Her mom was hospitalized, surely a few hours wouldn’t change anything. But what if a few hours was all the time her mother had left? She’d regret it the rest of her life if she didn’t see her mom one more time.

What if—

Panic coiled in her gut, making Laura sick.

Cindy poked her head into Laura’s cubicle. “Everything okay?”

“Call Mr. Albertson and postpone my dinner plans. I’ve got to go to Michigan. It’s my mom—I’ve got to go home.”

It was late when Laura pushed open the door to her mom’s hospital room. Stepping closer, she stared at the frail-looking woman lying in a bed surrounded by monitoring machines. The stroke had aged her mother, making her look older than her seventy-four years.

If Laura were a good daughter, she would have visited more often. But she wasn’t a good daughter. She was an only child who’d never figured out how to please her mom.

Her mother’s eyelids fluttered. “Is that you, Laura?”

“How are you feeling?” Her whisper came out sounding choked.

“My left side is nummmm.” Her words slurred. She opened only one eye, the other lid drooping.

“I know.” It wasn’t easy seeing half her mother’s face immobile.

“Have you eaten anything? I can get you something,” Laura asked. Did they feed stroke patients?

“Too much trouble.” Her mom’s thick slur held a trace of stubborn martyrdom.

Laura knew if she went out of her way to bring food, it would sit untouched and uneaten. With a sigh, she peered out the window at the shiny black water of the Portage River. It’d be crammed with boats lapping up the last days of summer come daylight.

“Are you home to stay?”

Laura fiddled with the buckle to her purse. Pressure. Whether she closed a deal, tried to make a relationship work or please her mom, the pressure built and simmered, never finding release. “People depend on me. It’s not easy to get away.”

“You’re too thin.”

“I can’t cook like you do.” Laura pulled a chair closer to the bed. How long did they keep a person with a stroke? She’d left a message for her sales manager that she needed family leave.

“Your hair looks lighter.”

“I just had it done.” Laura threaded her fingers through her highlighted blond bob. Looking like she hadn’t worked hard this summer was a sure sign of success, wasn’t it?

After hours of sitting beside her mother, watching her sleep, the door opened. Her mother’s only sibling and younger sister, Nelda, entered with a fresh-cut bouquet of flowers in her perfectly manicured hands.

“Good, you’re finally here.” Aunt Nelda gave Laura one of her pointed glares—as if driving through the night from Wisconsin was not enough. Married to a man who’d once been an actor off Broadway, her aunt dressed like she was headed to Hollywood instead of the local Wal-Mart.

“How’s Anna?” Aunt Nelda kissed her sister’s forehead.

“A little weak,” Laura’s mom whispered, her slur worse.

Aunt Nelda pinned Laura with another stern look. “You’re lucky your mother and I were shopping in Houghton when she had her stroke. There’s no telling what might have happened had she been home alone.”

Like she needed more guilt. Laura rubbed her aching head. “I need coffee. Do either of you want anything?”

“I’ll meet you in the cafeteria in a few minutes.”

Aunt Nelda wanted to talk, but it was a conversation Laura didn’t look forward to.

Twenty minutes later, Aunt Nelda sat down across from Laura. “Sweetie, you look beat up.”

Laura cradled her mug of coffee and shrugged.

Aunt Nelda patted her arm. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

“I’m working on it.” Laura cringed. She’d sounded too much like her mom.

“How long are you home for?”

“I don’t know, a couple weeks?” Laura lived in Madison, Wisconsin. It was six hours south from her mother’s hospital room in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, but it might as well have been halfway across the country.

Aunt Nelda fetched a mug and a fresh carafe of coffee. “What if you need more time?”

Laura stared at nothing in particular.

“Laura,” Aunt Nelda scolded softly, “your mother needs you. It’s not like she has other kids to lean on. Nancy and I visit when we can, but your mom’s going to need constant care.”

Laura avoided her aunt’s gaze.

“What if you moved back home?”

Laura straightened. “I spent my whole life trying to stay out of Mom’s way, get away from the U.P., and make something of myself. Moving back is the last resort.”

Aunt Nelda shook her head, making her drop earrings bounce against her neck. “Why?”

“Because I’m on the verge of a big promotion. There’s no need to jump to conclusions just yet.”

“Strokes at your mother’s age are serious, no matter how mild the damage,” her aunt whispered.

“What am I supposed to do? Uproot my whole life and make us both miserable? Mom doesn’t want me here. She never has.”

Aunt Nelda sighed.

“I’ve suggested she move near me.”

Aunt Nelda stirred sugar into her coffee. “Your mother will never leave that house. I know, I’ve offered for her to live with Ed and me. I’m sorry to be so hard on you, but you’re all she’s got.”

Her cousin Nancy’s three young children were no doubt part of the reason Laura’s mom wouldn’t think of living with Aunt Nelda and Uncle Ed. Her aunt had her hands full watching her grandkids while her divorced daughter worked full-time.

“I could hire someone to come in,” Laura said.

“Who’s going to pay for that?”

“Me.”

“I didn’t think you were doing that well.”

With that promotion…

Laura had homework to do. Her mother’s insurance might not cover home visits. She’d have to borrow against her 401 K, or maybe her condo. Either way, she’d figure it out.

“What about selling the barn with half the acreage?” Aunt Nelda said.

“Daddy’s barn?”

Aunt Nelda brightened, clicking her hot pink fingernails on the table. “Why not? It’s not doing anyone any good sitting there empty. You might get a good price for it.”

“Do you think Mom will agree?””

“She doesn’t have much of a choice.” Aunt Nelda rubbed Laura’s forearm. “Go home and get some sleep. I’ll call my friend who’s a Realtor and see what she thinks.”

Laura stretched when she stood. Aunt Nelda’s idea was a good one. She needed her mom’s agreement to make it work, but then real estate didn’t move fast in the U.P. They had time. She gave her aunt a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Aunt Nelda.”

Her aunt looked surprised. “It’ll work out, Laura. You’ll see.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Jack Stahl threw his hands up with disgust.

“Didn’t you get my letter?”

Jack clamped his mouth shut before he said something he’d regret. “No, Carl, no letter.”

“I know we agreed for you to rent month by month, but I had to sell the place. My wife took the kids to live with her parents in Saint Ignace. I closed last week.”

Their agreement had been verbal, and Jack could have kicked himself. What had he been thinking not to call and confirm his plans? He reached out and squeezed the guy’s shoulder. “I’ll find another place. I’m sorry about your wife.”

“Thanks, man.” Carl looked away. “Life stinks, doesn’t it?”

“Sometimes.” Jack scanned the fields surrounding Carl’s house. They were in the middle of nowhere with only a few other homes along the road, and those were miles apart.

“Do you know of any other houses for rent in the area? My daughter, Angie, starts school in a couple of weeks and I’ll be working nearby.”

Carl shrugged. “There’s a real estate office at the corner before you hit town. They might be able to help. They found me a small place just north of here.”

“Thanks.” Jack collected the boxes he’d left a few months ago—cleaning stuff and a few tools.

He thanked God he’d found out about this situation, before the movers showed up this weekend. A lucky stop after dropping off his son, Ben, at Michigan Tech. The past six months, he’d put his life in order to move. He’d been so sure, and now…

He backed out of the driveway and headed toward his motel room. It was too late to stop by the real estate office. He ran a hand through his hair. Being both mom and dad to his daughter, Angie, was becoming impossible for both of them. He couldn’t get anything right.

It’d been a rough couple of years since his wife, Joanne, had died. They might not have had the kind of relationship that inspired love sonnets, but she’d been the ground wire in the family. Joanne had kept them connected, involved in church and the community. Too late, he’d realized how much of his time and attention he’d denied her. Working around the clock to buy into a lucrative vet practice at the expense of his family was a lesson learned too late. He couldn’t make up for lost time, but a better future waited.

If he could just find another house.

Jack pulled off the road and rubbed his eyes. It had been so easy with Ben, but he didn’t have a clue how to reach his daughter. Forcing this move had pushed her further away.

With a defeated sigh, he bowed his head. “Dear God, I’m in way over my head. Show me where to go from here.”

The low hum of locusts and the wind swishing cornstalks in the field next to him was interrupted by a new noise. The grind of a motor sounded in the distance. Looking across the road, Jack spotted an attractive blonde astride a riding lawn mower.

He surveyed the two-story house in need of paint and a hundred feet to the right was a large barn with a stone foundation, also in need of some fixing up. His heart pounded as he stared at the sign posted in the front yard: Barn With Apartment And Twenty Acres For Sale.

Jack got out and walked across the street to get a better look. He tried not to gawk at the woman on the mower, as he signaled with waving arms and then pointed at the sign. He had to know more.

She drove the mower toward him.

Squinting against the glare of a late afternoon sun, he scoped the view of Lake Superior shimmering like a strip of blue tinsel on the horizon. He took a deep breath, wiped his hands on the bottom of his shirt and moved forward. The closer she got, the slower he walked. She was tall, lean and tan. She looked like one of those beach volleyball players he’d seen on cable. All he had to do was sound intelligent and not stare.

The woman carried herself with an air of professionalism that was at odds with the neglected property. She gave him a cheeky grin and extended her hand. “I’m Laura. Wanna buy it?”

He gave her a firm handshake. “Jack.”

She quickly let go and slipped her hands into the back pockets of her denim shorts. Her cell phone hung from a holder clipped to her waist.

“Is it just the barn and not the house?” He kicked at a stone with the toe of his boot. “I’m in the process of relocating and the house I had rented was sold.”

“Wow, that’s a tough one.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at her.

She squinted, too, her hand shielding her eyes. “Sorry, but it’s just the barn. There’s an attached apartment, though. Take a look around.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” Jack had his reservations, but he might as well check it out. If nothing else, he’d met a pretty woman who’d brightened an otherwise frustrating day.

“If you don’t mind me finishing the lawn. Go on in, the door’s open.”

“Perfect,” he said.

Her expression changed as if it just dawned on her that she was alone in the sticks with a pretty good-sized stranger.

Jack gave her an encouraging nod. He might be tongue-tied, but he didn’t pose a threat. Crossing the driveway, he stepped into the barn and flicked on a light switch to a single bare bulb hanging over a workshop area. A few old bales of hay lay stacked in a corner and dust covered everything.

Nosing around, he found a ladder leading to a lower level. He climbed down and noticed cooler air mingled with the smell of stale oats. The walls looked solid and the foundation opened to an overgrown pasture by way of a sliding door.

He found the apartment and entered a big room containing two sets of bunk beds, a loft overlooking a small kitchenette, and a curtained entrance to a bathroom with a shower stall, sink and toilet.

He turned on the faucet. After a minor shudder, cloudy water spewed out, and then ran clear. Even the toilet flushed without trouble. He took the wrought-iron spiral staircase to the loft, testing each step. Sturdy. The loft was big enough for a twin bed and maybe a small dresser, but it would allow his daughter some privacy. She’d have to make do until they had a house of their own built.

Was moving Angie to the U.P. the right thing? His sister thought he was crazy. Angie would surely hate this compared to her frilly bedroom overlooking the river back home in Lansing, but it wouldn’t be forever.

This felt right. And the timing was perfect. He rubbed his neck. Was this God’s provision from out of a jam or just Jack’s wishful thinking?

Looking out the back window of the apartment, he spotted a powder-blue sports car parked near the house. If that belonged to Laura, she had a decent job—probably in Houghton. If she lived here, why’d she let it go?

Outside, he caught the woman’s attention and shouted, “Mind if I take a walk?”

She gave him a thumbs-up.

The property looked good as far as he could tell, but he’d have to see the survey. The gentle sloping field stretched to a small woods, then more open meadow. A slice of Lake Superior shimmered just beyond that.

He could picture his daughter here—riding horses, planting a garden. An image of Angie picking the vegetables they could grow together was all it took. He came around the side of the barn and waited for Laura to notice him.

She drove the lawn mower toward him and shut it off. “What do you think?”

“I’m buying out a vet practice in town, but my goal is to work and live on the same property. I’m not sure if building a home first or the business is more appropriate.”

“You’re a vet?” Her eyebrows lifted, as if surprised. “This place would be perfect for you.”

“I have a daughter, that’s why I wanted to rent. Get to know the area better before committing.”

“I’m not interested in renting. I need to sell.”

Jack rubbed the stubble on his chin. “But should I buy a house or a practice facility? This place would work well as a vet’s office.”

Looking into her blue eyes for guidance he knew she couldn’t give, he noticed her irises were rimmed in yellow. She had beautiful eyes that tilted up at the corners. His mouth formed the words before his mind registered. “What’s your asking price? I’m interested in buying.”

Chapter Two

Laura felt the weight of his stare and shifted her stance. This guy was big, well over six feet. He had an unruly mop of sandy blond hair with more than a day’s growth of beard. He was rough-looking with a lumberjack quality that most women would admire. But Laura wasn’t most women. He had a daughter. “How old is your daughter?”

He beamed like any proud parent, his blue eyes shining. “She’s thirteen and she starts school after Labor Day.”

“There’s not much room in that apartment for a teenaged girl.”

“We’ve had to adjust to tougher things.”

What kind of things?

Laura’s interest piqued. Any self-respecting girl would hate living in a barn.

He pointed toward Lake Superior. “Eventually, I could see myself building on the edge of those woods, as long as they’re part of the twenty acres.”

“Maybe I should call my Realtor.” Laura grabbed her phone and dialed. When her Realtor finally answered, Laura explained the situation.

“I’ll ask.” Laura lowered her phone. “She wants to know if you’ve had dinner?”

He looked surprised. “No.”

“He hasn’t.” Laura held his gaze. “Are you hungry? We can go through the papers over dinner if you have time. You can bring your daughter, too.”

“I have the time, but Angie’s not with me. She’s at my sister’s in Lansing.”

“We’ll meet you there.” Laura disconnected and looked up. “I hope you like Italian.”

“Some of my favorite food.”

“The restaurant’s in the center of town. You can’t miss it. It’s called Gino’s.”

“Mind if I follow you?” he asked.

“Not at all. I’ll get my keys.” Laura headed for the house. She turned in time to see Jack climb into his monster-sized SUV parked across the road. He was a big, tall man with a big truck.

She usually met with men in the safety of offices and restaurants to go over business plans, but this was different. Grabbing her purse, she locked the front door and walked to her car while Jack pulled into the drive. She caught him giving her the once-over, but then he quickly looked away.

She was used to men checking her out. Her looks were one of the challenges she’d faced at work—getting the tech heads to trust her and businessmen to take her seriously. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what Jack might look like if he shaved.