Soldier of Her Heart
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Syndi Powell
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CHAPTER ONE
“BOSS, WE’VE GOT a problem.”
Beckett paused at the words, resting the sledgehammer he’d been using to tear up the kitchen’s ceramic tile floor. “Rob, I hired you so that we wouldn’t have problems. What’s wrong?”
The younger man shook his head. “I think you need to see this.”
Beckett followed him into the living room of the house they’d started to renovate that morning. He’d been buying places in Detroit neighborhoods, fixing them up and selling them for a profit. His business was still new, not quite two years old, but solid. Rob pointed at the east living room wall. “There’s two walls.”
“Two?” He approached the wall and peered into the foot-wide hole where Rob had taken down the drywall. Reaching for his cell phone from his back pocket, Beckett used the flashlight feature to try to examine what lay behind the outer wall.
Rob was right. There was a second plywood wall behind the first. Why in the world would someone lose square footage by building it six inches out from the original wall?
Beckett turned back to Rob. “That explains why the room dimensions were off from the blueprints.”
“What are we going to do about it?”
“Nothing. For now.” He wanted time to think about it first so they didn’t act rashly. “Why don’t you tackle the master bedroom walls for now. We’ll revisit this wall later.”
Rob gave a nod and left Beckett, who returned to the kitchen. He wanted to get this floor up before quitting for the day. He raised the sledgehammer over his head and brought it down on the ceramic. It felt good to break apart the tiles, straining his muscles as he hefted the hammer above his head again and again to smash it onto the floor. He found the demolition oddly satisfying when work on a house began. Later, he hoped he would find the same appreciation when he handed the keys over to the new owners and deposited their check into his bank account. But for now, he’d revel at the burn in his biceps as he smashed the hammer back down onto the tiles.
After an hour, he stopped his work to wipe his forehead with an old bandanna he kept in the back pocket of his jeans. Rob popped his head into the room. “I’m taking off for the night and thought I’d join some buddies at the pub to celebrate the New Year. You in?”
Beckett put his bandanna back into his pocket, hoping it looked as if he was seriously considering the invitation, although he already knew his answer. After a moment, he shook his head. “I want to finish tearing up this floor tonight, then prime it for the new tiles.”
Rob glanced at his watch. “It’s already after seven. You planning on working all night?”
If he could, he would keep working on the house for days without sleeping. Because working made him stop thinking and kept him awake. Whereas sleeping only brought bad dreams. He gave Rob a shrug. “You go on. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow is New Year’s Day, and you gave me the day off.” Rob frowned at him. “Are you okay, man?”
Beckett waved off his concern. “I’m fine. I just forgot what day it was. I’ll see you after the holiday.”
Rob peered at him briefly and then nodded. “Maybe you could use a night out with the guys. Come with us, Beckett. I’ll even buy the first round of beers.”
The thought of sitting in a bar with people all around him made his heart stutter. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. “Another time.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
Beckett agreed, but acknowledged to himself that it would never happen. He didn’t go to loud public places like bars or restaurants. He’d put off Rob’s invitations until the guy gave up on trying to include him. Beckett didn’t see the need to be part of the group anymore because he was better off on his own.
He returned to scooping up the floor tiles with a dustpan and tossing them into an empty cardboard box that he had repurposed earlier. He needed to work. To stay busy. To keep his mind occupied and away from thoughts of the past.
His stomach growled as he finished collecting the last tiles. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was almost nine, and he’d eaten lunch more than eight hours ago. No wonder his belly felt as if it was gnawing on itself. He left the house to walk to his truck parked in the driveway, pulled out the cooler he kept stocked with food for times such as this and chose a salami sandwich. He returned to the warmth of the house and took a seat on an overturned plastic bucket. Unwrapping the sandwich, he took a large bite and glanced around the living room as he ate. The wall behind the wall bothered him. What if the second wall hid a structural issue? While his inspector had assured him that the house was sound, it could be hiding a surprise.
He put his half-eaten sandwich down on the bucket and retrieved his sledgehammer from the kitchen. He swung the hammer into the wall, letting pieces of plaster fall onto the wooden floor. He ripped off a piece of the wall and tossed it aside, then hefted the sledgehammer over his shoulder, bringing it down on the next section of the wall. After thirty minutes, he’d opened up most of the first wall.
To remove the rest—the framing—he’d need his saw. What in the world was this wall concealing? Anticipation of what he might discover pushed him to keep going.
With the framing now gone, he started to take down the inner wall even though his muscles protested at their continued use. But he couldn’t stop now without finding out what secrets the house was concealing from him.
Once he’d gotten the wall down to the studs, he paused and stared at the stained glass window that had been revealed. He put a hand against the cool glass and wondered why anyone would ever cover up something so beautiful. They’d even bricked it over on the exterior of the house. True, the cracks in the glass gave it an eerie beauty, but it looked amazing all the same. The window measured at least two feet across and was four feet high, portraying a boat sailing by a lighthouse that sent out shards of light. Red and black glass squares bordered the window.
He took a step back. He didn’t know anything about repairing windows much less stained glass. He fished his cell phone from a pocket and dialed up another friend in the contracting business. The call went to voice mail, so he waited for the beep. “Hey, Cassie. Beckett here. I just found a stained glass window in this house I’m flipping. Do you know anyone who might be able to repair it? I’d hate to tear it out and throw it in the trash. Call me.”
He put away the phone and returned to his sandwich. Sitting again on the bucket, he stared at the window and wondered what it all meant. I promise I’m going to find out.
ANDIE LOWMAN SIPPED her glass of moscato and debated how much longer she had to stay at the New Year’s Eve party that she’d been dragged to. She would much rather have been home wearing an oversize sweatshirt with leggings and sitting on her couch with the remote control in her hand to watch the ball drop in Times Square. She might be as social as the next woman, but after the past difficult year, she wanted to stay home and nurse her hurting heart. Instead, she had squeezed into a sequined dress and high heels and stood by herself looking around the crammed hall. Most of the crowd was paired off in couples, and she felt out of place in her singlehood. Even her sister, Cassie, had her fiancé, John, with her. She should have brought a friend with her, but most of them had plans with boyfriends or husbands. So here she sat, feeling like a third wheel to her sister’s blossoming relationship.
Speaking of her sister, Cassie joined Andie at the table. “I think I have a job for you.”
Andie rested her cheek against her fist. “I have a job. I work for Dr. Frazier’s office.” After her father’s construction company had been shut down, she’d found a job answering phones for a popular oncologist. Maybe it wasn’t her passion, but at least it paid the bills.
“This one would involve that fancy degree of yours. Interested?”
More than interested. She’d graduated more than a year before with her master’s degree in art education. Unfortunately, most school districts had cut their budgets in the arts, which meant she hadn’t found a teaching position. She still sent out résumés, hoping for a nibble. At this point, she’d take a part-time position. Anything to keep her teaching credentials current.
Andie sat up straight in the chair and peered at her sister. “Keep talking.”
Cassie grinned in response and leaned in to be heard over the music. “Beckett, a friend of mine, just called and needs your expertise.”
Andie frowned, pausing at those words. “My expertise?”
“With stained glass windows. He’s looking for someone who knows how to repair them.”
The bubble of excitement that had started in her belly popped with disappointment. “You know that my knowledge of stained glass is more on an academic level than a practical one, right? I might have created a few, but I’ve never repaired them.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. If anyone could do this, it would be you, Andie.” Cassie cocked her head to the side. “Isn’t that basically the same speech you gave me when I wasn’t sure I could step into Daddy’s shoes with the construction company? Maybe it didn’t happen the way I expected with Daddy going to jail for embezzling, but you helped me find my confidence. Let me return the favor.”
Andie sighed and tapped her fingers against the wineglass. It wouldn’t hurt to at least look at the window, would it? Depending on the age and condition, she knew several glaziers who might be willing to repair it. “Fine. Text me his information, and I’ll contact him tomorrow.”
Cassie took out her cell phone and handed it to Andie. “Why not call him now?”
“You’re pushy, you know?” Having nothing else to do on this night of beginnings, she accepted the phone and stood. “I’ll take the call outside so I can actually hear him above the revelry.”
Before she could leave the table, Cassie tugged on her wrist. “There’s something you should know about Beckett.” She paused for a long moment, then shook her head. “Never mind. You’ll figure it out on your own.”
With those cryptic words following her, Andie took her sister’s cell phone outside to the patio where several tall heaters had been placed. She found Beckett’s name in the call history and pressed his name before putting the phone to her ear. It rang only once before a gruff voice answered, “Beckett.”
Okay, so that was not what she had expected. “Mr. Beckett, this is Andie Lowman. My sister, Cassie, said that you were looking for someone to repair a stained glass window.”
“It’s about time you called me back. I don’t have all night to be waiting around for you to take care of this.”
She frowned at his tone though she knew he couldn’t see her. If her mother could hear how he was speaking, she would have lectured him on phone etiquette. As it was, Andie took a deep breath before continuing. “Why don’t you first tell me what you’re looking for?”
He slowed his words as if she couldn’t comprehend English. “The window is broken. I want it fixed. Got it?”
“Yes, I understand that part, but—”
She heard him sigh on the other end. “That came out wrong. Sorry, it’s been a weird day. I need an expert, and your sister must think highly of you to recommend you.”
That was much better. “Thank you, Mr. Beckett.”
“When can you get here?”
She thought of the empty space that filled her Saturday morning. “Would this weekend suffice?”
He made a rude noise on the other end of the phone. “What’s wrong with now?”
She glanced at her wrist and noted the time. “Mr. Beckett, it’s close to midnight on New Year’s Eve. Considering the late hour and the festivities of this evening, Saturday morning would be more appropriate for me to assess your situation and give you the recommendations I might have for its reparation.”
“Using big words doesn’t impress me.” He sighed on the other end. “Fine, 9 a.m. Saturday morning and not a minute later.”
He gave her the address and hung up before she could say another word. She stared at her sister’s cell phone and wondered what this Mr. Beckett would be like in person if this was the way he behaved over the phone.
She returned to the party to find that John had gotten her sister onto the dance floor while the band played an appropriately slow love song. Cassie’s head rested on John’s chest as he waltzed her around the room. Her tomboy sister had turned into a princess.
Part of Andie wished that she could meet a man like the one her sister had found. John was kind, funny and smart. And he was good-looking, but not vain about it. In fact, she didn’t think he realized the effect he had on the opposite sex.
Maybe it was time to start putting herself out more into the world. To start expecting good things to happen. To make strides in finding her dream career. For years, she had been known as the one to fix things. If there was a delivery problem for one of her father’s projects, she called around and found a solution. When a friend had problems with a boyfriend or job, Andie had the right advice for them to fix the issue. But when it came to her own life, she made things worse rather than better.
But that stopped now.
With it being only moments away from the New Year, perhaps she couldn’t have found a better time to make some resolutions about her life. And maybe if she wished for a life filled with passion and love when the clock struck midnight, Cupid might be more than willing to help a girl out.
ANDIE HANDED THE appointment card across the receptionist desk to Mrs. Prentkowski. “We’ll see you back in six months, Mrs. P. Hopefully it will be a lot warmer weather here in Michigan then.”
Mrs. Prentkowski smiled and placed the card into her purse and left the doctor’s office while Andie saved the appointment into Dr. Frazier’s electronic calendar. One of the nurses stopped at the desk and checked the appointment log before taking a seat on the corner of the desk. “I can’t get this tablet to save the patient’s info.”
Andie took it from her, noticed that one of the fields had been locked on a default and changed the settings. She handed the tablet back to Stephanie. “All fixed.”
Stephanie thanked her and sighed. “Remind me again why I thought private practice would be a better fit for me.”
“Because you wanted a regular life after work rather than standing on your feet all hours of the day at the hospital.” Andie looked up at her best friend in the office. “Really, Steph, you should be grateful to be here. Everyone wants to work with Dr. Frazier.”
Stephanie huffed and pushed her bangs off to the side of her forehead. “You’re right as always. It must be annoying to be you. Gorgeous. Talented. And always right.”
If Andie had always been right, she would be using her artistic talents instead of answering phones and scheduling appointments. But she plastered a smile on to her face and nodded. “Yes. And you forgot annoying.” She handed a file to Steph. “Dr. Frazier’s two o’clock is waiting in the lobby.”
“You’re still going out with us tonight, right? You backed out on us last time, and I’m holding you to your promise of a rain check. No excuses.”
Her sofa at home and the remote in her hand held a stronger pull on her evening than going out to a restaurant with her coworkers, but she had promised and Lowmans didn’t break their word. Despite her father’s recent incarceration for embezzling from his own company, she’d grown up being taught that the Lowman family had integrity. And she’d made that New Year’s resolution to put herself more out into the world. To stop waiting for something to happen. She finally gave a short nod. “I’ll be there.”
Stephanie smiled and pushed herself off the desk. “Good. And I think you might actually have some fun. Maybe even meet that guy you wished for on New Year’s.”
Andie closed her eyes and tipped her head back, groaning. “Remind me not to tell you everything.”
“Too late.”
THE ATMOSPHERE AT the sports bar and grill was subdued, probably due to the many who had given up alcohol as part of their New Year’s resolutions. Andie scanned the faces in the bar until she spotted Stephanie, who stood talking to a nurse in another of the offices in their complex. She laughed at something he said and put her hand on his shoulder. Stephanie had been trying to get him to ask her out since she had seen him back in August, but the man was either clueless or not interested. Andie suspected the latter.
She walked to the table where some of her coworkers had already staked their claim and draped her coat over the chair next to Stephanie’s. Her friend soon joined her and plopped into the chair. “I swear he’s never going to get the hint. I told him that I was free this weekend, but nothing. What am I going to have to do? Ask him out myself?”
“Or maybe focus on someone else.”
Stephanie turned and gave her a look, one eyebrow arched higher than the other. “That tactic might work for you since you’re so beautiful, but we lesser mortals don’t have that option. He’s the first man I’ve been attracted to since Peter broke up with me.”
“You’re an intelligent, attractive woman who has a lot to offer any man. Don’t sell yourself so short.” Andie didn’t like it when her friends made themselves seem so much smaller than everyone else. “If that guy can’t see you for the amazing woman you are, then maybe it’s time to find someone who does.”
Stephanie didn’t seem convinced of that. Instead, she shook her head. “His name’s Joe. And maybe I just need to spend more time with him. Then he’ll notice me.”
Andie didn’t think more time would resolve the issue. She had personal experience with hoping to make something more of a relationship than what was there, and she had been left alone in the end. She rubbed at the burning in her chest. “There are more men than Joe out there who are actually interested in you.”
Stephanie made a zipping motion in front of her lips as Joe joined them from the bar, carrying a mug of beer in one hand. He took a sip, then glanced at Stephanie. “Oh. I forgot to order your drink. A margarita, was it?”
She stood and glared at him. “You don’t listen to any of my stories, do you? In fact, you don’t hear what I’m saying at all.” She turned to Andie. “You’re right. I need to find a guy who appreciates who I am.” Then she left the table.
Andie squelched a grin as Joe sputtered an excuse. “What’s wrong with a margarita?”
“She almost died in college after drinking one because she’s allergic to citrus and didn’t realize it had lime juice. She’s told you that story at least twice that I know of.” Andie stood and shook her head at him. “You missed out on a great girl.”
“Maybe not. What are you doing later?”
Seriously? She rolled her eyes and left to join her friend at the bar. “He’s such a jerk. You’re lucky to be rid of him.”
Stephanie turned wet eyes in her direction. “I’m going to die an old maid, aren’t I?”
“Oh please. If you’d actually give Dr. Henson a second look, you’d see that he’s crazy about you.”
Stephanie took the glass of red wine from the bartender and slid her payment across the polished wood counter. “Dr. Henson? He has a bald spot.”
“He also has a kind heart and a quick smile for the children he treats for cancer.” Andie gave her order to the bartender and turned to look at her friend. “You’ve been seeing Joe’s pretty boy face rather than Dr. Henson’s mature handsome features.”
Her friend regarded her for a long moment. “He does wear funny ties to make those kids laugh. And you really think he’s crazy about me?”
Andie raised her eyebrows at her friend. “Besides me, who in our office has bought more items from your nephew’s fund-raising efforts? And who brought you lunch that one time when you forgot yours at home? And who else cleans the snow off your car before you go home from work?”
“I know. You’re right.” Stephanie gave a nod, but it seemed to be almost hesitant. “But Dr. Henson?”
“He would remember your margarita story.” Andie paid for her glass of moscato, then put her free hand on Stephanie’s shoulder. “Take this weekend and think it over, but I believe you’ll see what the rest of the office has noticed for months. The man is head over heels for you.”
They joined the rest of their colleagues at the table.
After appetizers and a second glass of wine, Andie made her excuses and returned to her apartment. Surprisingly, she had enjoyed the evening. She usually felt out of place in a crowd as if she were looking in rather than participating in the fun. But she had been in the middle of several conversations and discovered a number of interesting facts about her coworkers. And she had surprised some of them, as well. Maybe her resolution to put herself out in the world more could pay off.
And maybe her appointment the next morning with Mr. Beckett would open up a career opportunity she’d been waiting for.
BECKETT WAITED IN the living room, glancing out the large picture window that overlooked the neighborhood. It was ten minutes before nine. Where was this woman? Cassie had assured him that her sister was a stained glass expert. If anyone could fix the window, it would be her. That is if she ever showed up. He hated being late himself, and even more the people who showed up late. In the military, early was on time and on time was late.
He hoped that she wouldn’t be one of those people always running late even though she had enough time to stop for a froufrou coffee drink on her way to the house. If there was another thing he couldn’t stand besides tardiness, it was sugary drinks that pretended to be coffee. Coffee was meant to be drunk hot and black. Period.
Beckett glanced around the living room of the house that he’d been working on for the last few days. After he’d won the premier Take Back the Neighborhood contest, Beckett had used his half of the quarter of a million prize money to expand his house renovation business. He had done the necessary publicity and cable television special that had been part of the prize package, but now it was time to work for himself. On himself. To prove that he could be a good person now that he was home from Iraq and hopefully erase the memories of his past there.
If only the nightmares would stop reminding him of who he really was.
A sleek silver sports car pulled into the driveway, breaking into his reverie. A brunette goddess exited the car and approached the house. No. This would not do. He didn’t need any empty-headed beauty queen messing around with something that had become so important to him. He wrenched open the front door and stared at her as she stood on the porch, her hand raised to knock on the door. “You can’t be the stained glass expert.”
She smirked at him. “But I am.”
“Why?”
The brown eyes that looked back at him seemed to glimmer with humor. “Because I did my master’s thesis on the history of them in Detroit churches. And I’ve made a few myself. Cassie knew that I could help you out.”
A master’s degree? This beauty had those brains behind such deep brown eyes? “I’m confused. I didn’t think she meant someone like you.”
“Mr. Beckett, someone like me knows more than you about the window you found. Now, you invited me here to look at it. Since I’m here, I might as well give you an assessment.”
As much as he hated to admit it, she had a point. Even if he didn’t think he could hire her to fix the window, he could at least get an idea of what would be required. The idea of working side by side with such a beauty made his heart stop. She was a temptation he didn’t need. He growled and shut the door behind her. “Fine. And it’s just Beckett, not Mr. Beckett.” He pointed to the wall. “There it is. Assess away.”
She gasped and stepped forward, placing a finger on one of the broken panes. “It looks like it’s most likely from the Art Deco period of the twenties. You can see how the artist used lead fillings or came to fuse the different pieces.” She sighed. “Beautiful. I wonder who the artist was.”
He watched her as she stared at the window, even as she backed away and removed her coat to place it over the back of a folding chair. Her eyes stayed on the window, and she approached it, putting her fingers on the glass. While she had been gorgeous getting out of her car, the light in her eyes as she looked at the window made her glow, and he was drawn to her in a way that he hadn’t been to anyone since returning from war. This made him shake his head and close his eyes. He couldn’t do this. Not with her. “Can you fix it?”
She ran her fingers along the cracks and answered, “No.”
“I thought you were an expert.”
She turned to face him, and he steeled himself from getting lost in her looks. She appeared disappointed. “Unfortunately, with a piece like this you need someone who works in repairing antiques. And I’m afraid that is out of my realm of experience.” She looked over her shoulder at the window. “But it is an amazing piece.”
“You’ve wasted my time.”
She turned back to peer at him. “You asked me here to tell you what you needed to do to fix the window, not to do the repairs myself. As it so happens, I know someone who can fix it, and I’d be happy to get in contact with him.”
He should have felt relief that she wouldn’t be the one who would be spending time here fixing the window. Then he could say his goodbyes and not see her anymore. And yet, he regretted that she couldn’t fix it. “Fine. But you can give me the number.”
“No, I think this is something we need to take to him in person.” She approached the window, her eyes traveling along the edges of it. “We’ll need to remove the window from the wall very delicately to avoid any more damage. That I can assist you with.” She ran her hands around the border of it. “Do you have a crowbar?”
“That’s delicate?”
“The steel frame is wedged into the opening, but with a few careful tugs I could remove it intact.” She pulled a hair tie from her pants pocket and fashioned her dark hair into a messy bun on top of her head, then she brought the ladder from the middle of the room closer to the window.
He stared at her. “Right now?”
“I thought you were eager to get this repaired.”
He left the room and found a crowbar in his toolbox. When he returned to the living room, he found that Andie had climbed the ladder and was running her hands on the upper edge of the window. He handed her the crowbar and winced as she placed it between the wall and the steel frame. With light tugs, she started to loosen the window from its place. He stood below her, his hands up to catch the window if it should fall. Or the woman herself, if that was the case.
She got the upper left section free, and she gave a cry of triumph. Despite himself, he smiled at her glee at this small victory. He held up the left side of the window as she worked on the upper right corner. She started to slip back on the ladder, and he put one hand on her back to keep her upright. Just the one touch felt like heaven to him, and he had to remind himself that she was here on business. And a beauty like her had no place in his life.
Ms. Lowman continued to work at the frame with harder tugs. “This right side is more difficult to get out, and I don’t want to bend the frame and damage the window more than it is.”
“Shall I try?”
She stopped her work and looked at the frame once again. “No, I think if I can just get under this corner, it should come loose.”
She positioned the crowbar and gave it a jerk. A crack in the window widened, and she gasped, but the entire frame came out intact from the wall. He took a hold of the left side as she kept her hands on the right and slowly descended the ladder. They took the window to a set of sawhorses he had at the other end of the living room, rested it on them, then stood back to admire it. She took her cell phone out of her pants pocket and started to take several pictures with it before lightly moving her fingers over the surface of the glass. “Who made such an extraordinary window?” She looked around the frame, but shook her head. “Whoever it was didn’t sign it.”
“And you really know someone who will fix it?”
She glanced up at him, and he was again struck by her simple beauty. She didn’t have to use lots of makeup to enhance her looks, and he could appreciate it, if only from a distance. “He can, but I don’t know if he would be willing to do so. Like I said earlier, our best bet would be to take the window directly to him for his evaluation. He works every Saturday morning at his store, but only until noon.” She put on her coat and slipped her cell phone in her purse before grabbing it. “Are you coming?”
He’d hoped to spend only a few minutes with her, but it looked as if he would be spending a lot more time with this woman. And why did that idea both please and terrify him?
