Wedding on the Rocks by Rose Ross Zediker

Author:Rose Ross Zediker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Jennifer stood back, surveying the finished bunkhouse. “Not bad.” She nodded her head, looking around the shared common area.

“I had my doubts.” Cynthia lifted folded towels from a laundry basket.

“Well, at least one thing has worked out for me.” She straightened a picture they’d found in storage in the basement of the main house.

“I’d say two things.” Cynthia walked back into the great room, wiggling her eyebrows.

A blush bloomed on Jennifer’s cheeks. She waved off Cynthia’s comment with her hand. “That was to get back at Lance.”

“So you keep telling me, with blushes glowing on your cheeks.” Cynthia sat on the couch. “But Lance hasn’t been around for a week, and you’re still spending any free time you have together.”

Jennifer had turned her back to Cynthia, peering out of the sparkling-clean window toward the lane that branched off from the main house. Brett had been gone forever.

“Have a seat. It’ll be a while before he gets back.”

A little thrill twirled inside Jennifer when she tried to purse her lips, but a grin won out. “I’m anxious for the kids to get here so I can see their reactions to the bunkhouse.” Jennifer turned from her lookout post.

“I don’t doubt that, but they are not who you are waiting for.” Cynthia arched a brow.

Jennifer smiled at her surrogate mother’s teasing, and sat down on the sofa beside her. “It is nice to finally have something in common with Brett. We both enjoy working with kids.”

“You have more in common with Brett than that. You grew up in the same area, went to the same school, have shared experiences.”

“I have all of that in common with a lot of people, including Lance, but that doesn’t mean anything anymore.”

“Lance is not a good example. He has amends to make before his past is a pleasant memory.” Cynthia’s pointed look at Jennifer was a reminder that she had her own amends to make.

Jennifer shook her head. “I never had much in common with anyone here. I was always a misfit. At least in the city I fit in.” Even as the words tumbled out, Jennifer knew they weren’t entirely true. Sure, no one looked at her with pity in their eyes because she had no mother. Yet many aspects of city life had been hard for her to adjust to, some more apparent than others. She’d been unaware of the anonymity issue until that morning in Rapid City.

“It is true that people grow apart but still have things in common,” Cynthia said. “Links to the past that will bind you together forever, like the arrowheads, teeth and pottery on Brett’s dig site. Whoever lived here and left those behind helped form this land that we now call home.”

The crackle of tires over gravel stopped their conversation.

“They’re here.” Jennifer jumped up from the couch, ran to the door and threw it open wide.

Brett had traded his SUV for a twelve-person van, with the School of Mines insignia. When he opened the door and slid from the driver’s seat, Jennifer heard a loud rendition of a traveling song.

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