Helen Brenna - The Pursuit of Jesse

A safe community. Check. A job that paid the bills. Check. A house. Check. Finally. A little more than ten minutes ago, she’d signed the mortgage papers at Mirabelle’s tiny bank. Now this was her house.

She put the key in the lock, tapped the snow off her boots and opened the weathered oak door. Then she stepped inside and glanced around. Make that her dilapidated and vermin-infested house.

The place looked even worse than when it had first come on the market two years ago. There were water stains on the ceiling from a leaky roof. The kitchen countertop and sink were discolored. The walls were pitted with nail holes and large dents as if they’d seen one too many parties, and it looked as if some kind of wild animal had set up camp in the fireplace. She didn’t even want to look at the bathrooms or the carpets. On top of the grunge, everything appeared dated, including the countertops, the light fixtures and all the appliances.

The old couple who had owned the cottage had long since stopped spending summers on the island, and had, instead, been leasing the place. As the cottage had fallen into disrepair, the renters had stopped coming and the house had sat dormant for the past several years. No one had wanted to buy it. No one had been able to see what she could see.

Silently, she prayed that Garrett was right and the basic structure was solid and therefore worth remodeling. If he was wrong, she’d just signed her life away for nothing.

Brian followed her inside and took a step toward the kitchen.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she said, closing the door. “Stomp that snow off your boots before you start traipsing around.”

“Seriously? What difference does it make? This place is a dump.”

“Dump or not, it’s our dump.” Gingerly, she picked up an old wadded-up towel from the corner and laid it in front of the door. “Step on that.” The towel was dirty and smelled musty, but it would have to do for now.

“This place is disgusting, Mom. And it smells. You sure you want to live here?”

It was going to take some time, most of her savings and a lot of elbow grease, but this house was eventually going to look perfect, like the home of her dreams.

“Yes, I’m sure.” She reached out and ruffled his hair.

“Moooom!” He ducked away. “I’m not a baby.”

No, he was nine now. Almost a man, he’d been insisting lately. Well, he could insist all he wanted. Nothing could change the fact that he’d always be her little boy.

“I know the place needs a lot of work before we can move in,” she said. “But Garrett’s sure he can get everything done before the wedding season kicks into high gear. He’ll put in new kitchen cabinets and countertops. New bathrooms. New carpet. You can help me paint. By the time we’re finished, it’ll be beautiful.”

“If you say so.”

The sound of a snowmobile coming up the hill filled the quiet outside and Sarah pushed aside the moth-eaten curtain to see Garrett pulling into the yard. Excited to hear when he could start, she didn’t give the fact that he had a stranger with him much of a thought. She opened the front door as Garrett came up the steps. “Right on time.”

“I knew you’d be excited.” Although there was a slight smile on Garrett’s face, he looked preoccupied. He stomped the snow off his boots and stepped inside. The other man followed suit and closed the door behind him. “Sarah, this is my youngest brother, Jesse.”

As in the rolling-stone, smart-aleck, ladies’ man youngest brother? “No kidding?” she said, warily eyeing the man.

Everyone knew Garrett had three brothers, but she’d never expected any of them to come to Mirabelle, at least not during the winter months. She’d gathered from the past comments Garrett had made that his siblings weren’t much for islands, at least not the non-Caribbean variety. While many of the single women on Mirabelle had been after Garrett to talk his brothers into coming north, Sarah had never been one of them. At least not seriously.

“You didn’t say anything about him coming. Or did I miss that?” she asked.

“Kind of spur-of-the-moment,” Jesse said, holding her gaze.

Then he smiled at her, and her stomach pitched. The way his lips curved in a lopsided grin, the way his eyes twinkled, this man reminded her so much of…Bobby, it was frightening. She hadn’t thought of him in years, and she sure as hell didn’t want to think about him now. The man—that time—had been the worst mistake of her life.

“Nice to meet you, Sarah.” All at once, Jesse took off his hat, ruffled his short dark hair and reached for her hand.

Uh-oh. “Nice meeting you, too,” she somehow managed to murmur.

Garrett was the more traditionally handsome of the two brothers, but Jesse, with his rugged features, including a nose that looked to have been broken more than once, dark, scruffy stubble and a tiny silver hoop in his left earlobe, was far more fascinating. At least in Sarah’s book. If the way he’d held her hand—a little longer than technically necessary—was any indication, Garrett was right. This brother was the flirt in the family, a fact that likely made up for in spades what he might be lacking in the looks department.

Once upon a time, she would’ve been tripping all over herself to get to this man, but times had changed. She’d changed. Fun-loving rolling stones didn’t make good husband or father material. And if Sarah was attracted to him? Therein lie the first sign Jesse was no good. No woman on earth could pick a good-timing loser faster than Sarah.

She forced her gaze away from Jesse’s face and glanced toward Brian, reminding herself of her priorities. You had your fun with bad boys, and remember how that turned out? Mother first, woman second. Or woman never as had been the case living on an island the size of Mirabelle all these years, but then that had been why she’d moved here in the first place. Very little to no temptation on Mirabelle, the tiny destination wedding spot of the Upper Midwest, and that was fine by her.

“This is Brian,” she said, smiling. “My son.”

“Hey, there, Brian.” Jesse feigned a serious look. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

“School’s over for the day,” Brian said with a scowl on his face. “But I think I’d rather be there than here, anyway.”

“It might not look like much right now,” Jesse said, glancing around. “Wait a few weeks. You won’t even recognize the place.”

“I told you, honey, Garrett’s going to take care of everything.” She glanced up at Garrett and noticed his frown had deepened. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“Straight-out is usually best.”

“There was a young couple here on Mirabelle this past summer. They stayed in one of the honeymoon suites at the Mirabelle Island Inn and expressed a lot of interest in the furniture I’d made for Marty Rousseau. I wasn’t going to hold my breath for an order, but…” He ran his hands over his face as he paced. “They called me yesterday, Sarah. Out of the blue. They’re buying a new house and want me to make their master bedroom furniture, a dining room set and some other pieces.”

“That’s great, Garrett! Good for you.”

“They want everything ASAP.”

“So what does that mean?” As she held her breath, she had the feeling she knew exactly what he was trying to say.

“It means I have to get at the order right away, and it’s going to take several months.”

Her excitement fizzled like a candle flame doused in a bucket of water. “So you can’t help me with my house.”

“Sarah, I’m sorry, but this is the biggest order I’ve gotten since I moved up here. There’s potential for a lot more orders. It’s just what my furniture business needs to get off and running.”