on Steve Brody’s cell was a request from Megan Victory from the Habitat for Humanity office, asking if he wouldn’t mind stopping by when it was convenient. Whatever it was, she clearly didn’t feel comfortable talking via the phone.
Stop by when it was
convenient
. With his hectic schedule,
convenient
wasn’t part of his vocabulary. His day was busy enough and he didn’t need anything more piled on his plate. Still, if Megan asked to see him, then clearly something important was on her mind.
Steve’s work with the humanitarian group had helped him deal with the unrelenting grief he’d endured after Alicia’s death. If he could find a way to work from dawn to dusk, keep his mind busy and his body physically exhausted, he might distract himself long enough to find some peace. He might be able to forget the helplessness he’d felt watching the woman he loved breathe her last breath.
He wished he could say his plan worked. It hadn’t. Nothing did.
Alicia was never far from his thoughts, even now, three years later. The only antidote to this pain, he discovered, was time. Asthe weeks and months passed he found it somewhat easier to function. He kept an emotional distance from most everyone. That was necessary because he’d learned that caring and loving put his heart at risk. He’d been badly hurt once, and he wasn’t game for a second round.
The one exception had been a gentle-natured eight-year-old boy. He was the grandson of Joe Osborne, who owned a large electrical-supply company where Steve bought his materials. For whatever reason, Jeremy had taken a liking to Steve. Joe had brought his grandson onto the job site with him when Steve was there and the boy had looked at Steve with wide, adoring eyes. Even now Steve wasn’t sure what the kid saw in him; perhaps he recognized the longing Steve held deep in his heart for a son one day. Whatever it was, Jeremy pestered Joe until he took the youngster to see Steve again. Jeremy had asked Steve to help him build a small wooden car for a Cub Scout event, and they’d been pals ever since.
It was through Jeremy that Steve met Britt, Jeremy’s divorced mother, though he wasn’t nearly as fond of her as he was of her son. Steve had dated Britt a couple times, but no way was he serious about her. The truth was he didn’t feel the least bit of physical attraction for Britt. She was pretty, that was sure, but she had an edge to her that he found off-putting. The only reason he’d gone out with her those few times was because he couldn’t help thinking how perfect it would be if he could have fallen for Jeremy’s mother. But he didn’t want to lead Britt into thinking that he was interested in her romantically, because at this point he could tell it wasn’t happening.
Technically, Steve wasn’t employed by Habitat—all his work was volunteer. His supervisor, Stan Pearson, was a paid full-time employee, and generally he’d be overseeing the volunteers’ work on every phase of construction. However, with Steve’s vast knowledge base, that wasn’t necessary.
Steve was able to tear himself away from his own job site around four, which gave him only an hour to stop off at Habitat’s offices before heading over to work on the Youngs’ house.
Cassie Carter was scheduled to work that evening. She was an interesting character—now, there was a woman with spunk. Steve doubted that she backed down from anything. He’d never known a woman with more expressive eyes. He could see how difficult it had been for her to bite her tongue when Britt made her unreasonable demand for the beer. He gave Cassie credit, though: She’d been a picture of politeness.
Steve had been surprised to find Cassie working the Sounders game. It appeared she worked two jobs in addition to putting in her Habitat hours. She certainly didn’t stand still for long.
Britt’s overreaction to the fact Cassie couldn’t get her what she wanted had embarrassed Steve. The minute she learned
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