Laurie Paige - A Place To Call Home

By the time they’d finished the tour, including crossing to the other side and back on a rather precarious—in her opinion—footbridge, she’d learned a lot more about bridges than was strictly necessary in her view. She was aware of amusement in Jeremy’s eyes as he gave her the guided tour.

The footbridge was like a ladder laid across the gorge with flimsy ropes for railings. The workers could probably dash across as sure-footed as the bighorn they’d seen earlier.

Zia kept her eyes on where she put her feet, aware of the water ten stories below and of the gaps between the foot supports which looked wide enough to fall through.

“You handled that very well,” Jeremy commented when they had safely returned to the main camp. “Some people can’t take seeing the empty space below them. They freeze.”

“It wasn’t empty,” she muttered dryly. “There was a river moving at around sixty miles an hour a hundred feet below.”

That caused the workers who overheard them to laugh with far more enthusiasm than the remark deserved. Jeremy joined in.

She managed a weak smile and shook her head.

“It’s almost noon,” he said. “Ready for lunch?”

“Here?”

He nodded. “We have a mess tent.”

“I hope it’s on this side of the river.” She grinned as everyone again laughed and went with Jeremy to a metal-roofed building with canvas sides behind the office trailer. “Wow, air-conditioning.”

He explained the luxury to her. “It gets so hot in the summer, the workers need a break from the heat at times.”

The temperature was in the eighties now, but in July and August, the thermometer would climb into the mid-nineties on average during the day. At night, it could drop to around fifty, or even into the forties. Although usually dry during the summer, thunderstorms could bring flash floods. The high desert was not a place for careless people.

They went through a buffet line that offered several entrées of meat and vegetables, then sat at a long table where Tina and two women were already seated. Zia recognized one of them as the equipment operator she’d noticed when they first arrived. Jeremy introduced the three. “Paula and Marti, this is Zia.”

“How did you learn to handle that huge machine?” Zia asked Marti after they said hello.

“School,” Marti told her. “At heavy equipment schools, you learn to handle all kinds of machines. My dad had a road repair company, but he wouldn’t let me work for him. So I decided to show him women could handle dozers the same as men.”

“She’s one of the best,” Jeremy added. “She agreed to come here from the Salt Lake area after I showed her the article on the new education plans. In a way, you helped me hire her.”

“I have a boy and girl, sixth and fourth grades,” the woman continued the story. “I wasn’t sure the schools were as good here as in the city.”

“The curriculum planning is part of a new federal program being tried in several states. I’m excited about it,” Zia said.

She and Marti, who looked around forty, discussed the school situation in depth during most of the meal. Once when she glanced at Jeremy, he had a thoughtful smile on his handsome face as he observed them. She smiled back and returned to the conversation.

He, his assistant and the other woman, who kept up with expenses for the DOT, held their own discussion of site problems while they ate. Zia listened after the equipment operator left to go back to work.

Apparently cost was a big factor in Jeremy’s being moved from his former work site near Bryce Canyon to Uinta County. The bridge construction was way past schedule and over budget. He was to get things moving and under control.

Listening to him, she felt a totally unwarranted sense of pride at his masterful grasp of the situation. It was obvious the other two respected his decisions. She was glad things were working out so well for him in his new position.

Shortly after one, they were on the road again, heading north toward town. “Was that any fun for you at all?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. I enjoyed it a lot. The scenery was great, as promised, and the building site was very interesting. I feel like an expert on road construction now and will amaze my friends when I explain rainbow bridges to them.”

He laughed heartily at her claim, which pleased her.

As they passed the city limits sign, she became somber. She had enjoyed herself, perhaps too much. She couldn’t rely on Jeremy for companionship. It wouldn’t be fair. His time would be better spent finding the woman of his dreams.

Her mother had indicated she was worried about Jeremy and the fact that he’d never married. Caileen thought it was because of the unsettled life he’d lived during his youth. His father had died of a heart attack at a very young age, then his uncle—the middle Aquilon brother—rolled his truck one snowy night and died of exposure before being found. The problems with Family Services before being left in peace with his uncle Jeff had probably made him as cautious in love as her experience with Sammy had made her.

Besides, she didn’t think Jeremy liked her very much. She’d known, from the moment they’d first met, that he thought of her as a willful only child who’d given her mom grief for no good reason, not like Krista and Tony being beaten by a foster father or having a father drop dead like Jeremy. By contrast she’d had an easy life.

She’d just taken it hard, she admitted sardonically.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, you know,” he continued as they neared the hotel, his manner thoughtful.

She was astounded. “I’m not acting, Jeremy. I really did have a great time today. I liked the tour. It was interesting talking to your workers.” She paused. “I was tired last night, so I probably wasn’t very good company. I’m sorry if I disappointed you in some way.”

“I didn’t mean to give that impression. But, it occurs to me that you might have felt pressured to, uh, be friendly. I want you to know you don’t have to. We don’t have to see each other at all.”

She laid her head back on the seat and laughed softly. “We’re both fools,” she told him. “I thought you were being nice because you felt you had to take care of me. I can’t believe Mom called and asked you to check that I arrived safely. As if I were a ten-year-old off on my first trip alone. Honestly,” she ended in amused exasperation.

“Okay, I guess we understand each other then,” he said. “No more Mr. Nice Guy,” he added in the tough manner of an action-adventure hero.

“Right. We can check in on each other once in a while to keep the folks off our case, but otherwise we go our own ways.”

“Agreed.”

When he stopped at the hotel, she jumped down from the SUV before he could get out. “Thanks again for the tour. As soon as I find a place to live, I’ll invite you to dinner.”

He gave her a calculating glance. “A home-cooked meal would be nice, like the meat loaf your mom makes.”

“Can do,” she assured him. “I’ll get in touch when I’m settled. Okay?”

After he nodded, she closed the truck door and headed for her room. Standing on the porch, she watched him drive down the street. It made her feel good to be on solid footing with him, she realized. Maybe they could be friends.

Casual friends, she amended, going into her pleasant room. Occasional friends, the type you talk to whenever you run into each other on the street. Maybe they would have coffee once in a while, or lunch. Nothing that demanded a lot of fuss and bother, or that could be called a relationship.

Anything more would never work between them. The past would always be there, ready to spring up when least expected, reminding her of the reasons she didn’t want any connection to her misguided youth. He would probably prefer to avoid her, too.