Sweet Fall Read online

  Sweet Fall

  A Montana Matchmakers Short Story

  Reina M. Williams

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to places, establishments, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental and the work of the author’s imagination.

  Copyright © 2020 Reina M. Williams

  rickrackbooks.com

  Cover design via Canva/demaerre-Getty Images Pro

  All rights reserved.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  First Digital Edition/September 2020

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Jena did not know why she listened to her uncle. Sure, because she loved him, and he was a good guy. But whenever she listened to his ideas—or, acted on them—she found herself in some odd situation. Like now.

  She was the electrical/HVAC person, not the you’ve bought a rundown property and want on estimate and overview on the renovation project person.

  Glancing around, she wondered why anyone would buy this run-down old farmhouse. The front door was off the hinges, the probably toxic paint peeling, and who knew what a mess the electrical would be. Though she wouldn’t mind taking on a challenge of that magnitude. And the construction co-op she worked for, Levi and Company, could use the job. Though why she was the point person for this one...that was usually Luke’s or Uncle Tim’s job.

  She strode through the overgrown brown grass and weeds, glad she wore her work clothes of boots, jeans, and a sturdy, long-sleeved shirt. A musty smell made her nose twitch, but then a cold October breeze hit and a clean, earthy scent quickened her pace. Beyond the house, a small grove—orchard?—of trees created an idea in her mind of what this might once have been. One of those rare-now small working farmsteads. Grandma Raines liked to tell stories about growing up in the north of the county on such a farm. But they were a thing of the past.

  Why was she here?

  Standing on the front path, she crossed her arms. Jena believed in the future, and the present she’d worked hard to create. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she frowned. The potential client was ten minutes late. Her to-do list would get behind schedule at this rate. She nibbled at her fingernail before crossing her arms again.

  She had two other jobs today, and would be spending the evening with her cousin so her aunt and uncle could have a date night.

  “Uncle Tim,” she said into the voice call feature of her phone. But she hung up before it rang, as a vehicle approaching made itself known in the crunch of tires on gravel.

  A truck bounced along the rough road at too fast a speed, kicking up rocks and dirt. She braved the rickety porch in case the driver wasn’t able to stop, or didn’t know where to park. The steps creaked under her tread. She kept her phone out, in case this wasn’t the client.

  The truck rattled to a stop over a rocky patch near a wide buckeye tree, its round nuts littering the ground. Shaking her head, she took a deep breath and counted to ten.

  A tall, lanky guy hopped out of the truck and waved. “Hi!” he called in a friendly tone that did little to cool her irritation. “I’m Grant Manning. Are you Jena Raines?” The client, then. He stopped his approach when he got to the steps, shoving his hands in his pockets. His Adam’s apple bobbed. She must have a super scowl on, what Uncle Tim called trademark Jena. He preferred her signature smile.

  She tried to plaster one on and stepped toward Mr. Manning, her hand outstretched. Moving forward quickly, she strode down the stairs. The next to last step creaked and snapped. Flailing her arms to try to catch a fall, her cell phone flew out of her hand, and she landed smack into Grant Manning’s chest. A surprisingly solid torso. With strong arms wrapping around her and righting her onto the ground. And his scent. Leaning into him for a moment—just to get her breath back, of course—she caught the crisp fragrance of cinnamon and spice and spruce.

  “You okay?” he asked in a low voice. He held her close.

  Her irritation had drained away, leaving her a sloppy mess. She could not feel all melty and mushy from being in Grant Manning’s arms. She wasn’t that type of person.

  “Sure, fine,” she said, pushing away. “Uh, thanks.”

  Brushing her hands down her front, she tried not to seem awkward about getting herself together. Not that she cared what he thought, except he was a potential client. And the Mannings were big business. She didn’t know why he’d be interested in this place, unless they were planning to expand closer to Loving now that three of the brothers had moved to town. Maybe they were going to raze this place and do something.

  He ducked down. Maybe he was going to check her ankle or something.

  “Oh, I’m okay.”

  “I hope your phone is.” He stood upright and handed her the phone, now dusty.

  “Sure, it’s fine.” She rubbed it on her jeans and checked it. “Yep, okay.”

  “Good. So...uh...Mrs. G said you all are the best outfit in town for construction and renovation?”

  “I wouldn’t argue with Mrs. G.”

  “Me either.” He smiled.

  Wow. He was sure cute. His lean face still beamed some sort of boyish joy that took her off guard, yet he was manly with his stubbly, square jaw and wiry frame.

  “What do you have in mind?” Her throat heated with her awkward-ish question that sounded more like she was propositioning him rather than asking about business. She formulated a qualifier. “For this place.”

  “First I need to know if it’s salvageable. Then, maybe we could talk over lunch? Mrs. G said she’d save us a table.”

  “Okay, sure.” People had client lunches. That was totally normal. What wasn’t usual was the way her insides were reacting to Grant’s closeness. “Do you have the key, Mr. Manning?” She needed to get herself in line, professional.

  “Grant, please. And yeah, but careful on those stairs.”

  “You too. I don’t need to hear from Uncle Tim or Mrs. G about how I brought you back to town with a broken bone or something.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well. Plus, it would make Mrs. G feel badly. She sold me this place.”

  Jena stopped on the front porch. “What?” Jena thought she and everyone at Levi and Company were pretty up-to-date on who owned what in town.

  “That’s why it wasn’t on the open market. She wanted to make sure the right person bought the old place. Let’s see inside.” He opened the door for her, a completely unnecessary, but polite, gesture.

  She glanced at him again. His strong profile was outlined in the low light shafting in through dust-coated windows. She pushed her hand up through the back of her shoulder-length hair.

  “You have me intrigued. But I’ll wait for the story until lunch.”

  “Uh, great.” His voice cracked slightly and he looked around. “So, I’ve only been here once. Wanted a professional opinion on the place. To see if your company would be the right fit for the renovations.”

  This was weird. Really, the head of the company, Luke Levi, should have been out here for a general property assessment.
Or the county inspector. Luke and Uncle Tim had gone over assessments with her, so she could understand the full business, but she had no experience, except when it came to electrical, HVAC, and appliances.

  “I’ll do my best. But we’d need to have Mr. Levi out for a firm estimate.”

  “Right... Yeah. Well.” His Adam’s apple bobbed again. “Mrs. G said you were the person...for today.”

  Jena furrowed her brows. This sounded suspiciously like a setup. After Luke and Dolly, Mrs. G’s niece, had gotten together, the town buzzed with speculation about Mrs. Gallagher and her friend Mrs. Davis matchmaking for local couples.

  Jena didn’t want any part of that. She loved her life, one she’d worked hard to create. At only twenty-two, she had her own apartment, a good job as a certified electrician, solid friendships, and a better family life now that her parents, brother, and grandparents had moved hundreds of miles away. It was orderly, drama-free, and satisfying. She wasn’t going to let anything, or anyone, interfere with that.

  No matter how much Grant’s endearing looks and slightly awkward ways perked her attention and attraction.

  She pulled off her backpack, put her hair in a ponytail, and donned coveralls. She didn’t want to get dust and dirt on her clothes if they’d be going to lunch. “I’ll take a look around. Meet you back here in twenty minutes.”

  “Got it.”

  He’d gotten more than that—he’d captured her focus in a way she didn’t like.

  Chapter Two

  Grant swallowed down the anxious tightening ratcheting up his throat. Why had he let Mrs. G talk him into this?

  Because he was an easy mark for the crafty older woman, the closest to a grandma he’d known.

  Jena was way prettier and more interesting than he’d heard. Not that he’d heard much. So he hadn’t been prepared for the way meeting her had whacked into him, like getting thrown from his brother’s horse when he was younger. He’d recover, but scrambling out of the way and catching his breath first seemed like a good idea.

  He shook his head and began to explore the house. It was in bad shape, but he’d known that. Run-down, dusty, peeling, he didn’t care. He could make it his own. The house and small property could be his, somewhere he could do all the projects and experiments he wanted to, without having to get his older brothers’ approval, or follow the traditional Manning Ranch way.

  Still, he was only twenty-two, the youngest Manning, maybe too soon to be taking on such a big endeavor. Most of his friends were just out of college: some still living at home; others rooming up in apartments and tackling their first full-time jobs; others, like him, living on the family ranch where they worked with their parents or siblings or grandparents.

  He hadn’t known his grandparents. But his grandpa Bonham, so he was told, had been a bit of a dreamer, an experimenter, like he wanted to be. Grandpa Bonham had even built an unusual octagonal house back east, where he’d also had a small farm and orchards. Grant had tended to some of the old plants that had been brought out as gifts for his mom, who’d died when he was young. Plants that Grandpa Bonham had grafted and nurtured and protected, and now Grant wanted to continue those legacies.

  He’d been wandering as he’d thought about his family, not really seeing much. Now he was back in the front room. Jena carefully came down the steps, dust in her shoulder-length hair.

  Without thinking, he picked a cobweb from the strands. She frowned at him.

  “Sorry, that was...inappropriate.” Basic kindergarten stuff: Keep your hands to yourself.

  She nodded. “Want a report now?” Her stomach made a gurgling noise.

  “How about over lunch,” he asked with a grin.

  “I’ll meet you at Gallagher’s Café, then.”

  He waited for her to leave, then took another glance around the old place. Working with someone like Jena would sure be a lot more interesting than slogging at the ranch with his brothers. But it would also be uncomfortable, especially if she kept frowning at him.

  He shook his head and strode out to his truck, an old one he and a friend had converted to biodiesel. Jena was already gone.

  Less than fifteen minutes later, he pulled into a spot outside the café. He cleaned his hands with a wipe and combed his hair with a quick swipe. Mrs. G would give him a gentle tease if he were a mess; his wanting to look good had nothing to do with Jena Raines. He didn’t like being teased was all.

  He hopped down and smoothed his shirt then opened the door. Jena wasn’t there that he could see.

  “Well, look who’s here!” Mrs. G opened her arms to him from her position by the host’s stand. “You coming from the old place?”

  He nodded and hugged the older woman. Her scent, rosewater with spicy notes, reminded him of his grandparents’ old journals and farming records, kept tucked in fabric cases his mom had sewn.

  “Did Jena meet you?”

  He nodded again. “She’s supposed to be here so we can talk over the project.”

  “And maybe just enjoy lunch together?” The silver-haired, petite Mrs. G grinned with a mischief that seemed more appropriate if she were seven and not seventy-seven. Then again, it was her smiles that had gotten them through many a hard time, and her smiles and troublemaking that kept them all on their toes. Was she troublemaking now with her suggestion?

  Nah, she was just encouraging him to be friendly, like she did.

  “And here she is,” Mrs. G said in a light tone. “Jena, glad to see you. I’ve got a table waiting for you and Grant.” She held both their hands, pulling them closer together. “Look at you two, cute as a picture.”

  Grant willed his face to cool and hoped Jena wasn’t looking his way. “Uh, we better sit. Jena has other business today.”

  “Isn’t he considerate,” Mrs. G asked as she led them to a table in the corner. A kind of quiet corner. Ah, she just knew Grant preferred the quiet, not that she wanted to give him and Jena privacy.

  He waited until Jena sat, trying not to notice how her hair had been brushed until it had a light sheen, and the way her long, slim legs showed in her skinny jeans. He slid into the chair across from her. Glancing out the window, he pulled his thoughts from Jena to business.

  She gave him a slight smile as she met his gaze. Mrs. G had waved and gone back to her post.

  “Seems like she thinks you’re pretty great,” Jena said.

  “She’s like a grandma to me, so that’s not surprising.”

  She made a noise, almost like a “huh,” and glanced at her menu.

  “Different experience of grandparents?” he asked.

  “They’re fine. I just wouldn’t say all grandparents think their grandchildren are great.”

  Why would that be? Jena seemed pretty great to him. But with families, people could be different, or families could be unsupportive. “You’re right. All the more reason I’m grateful to have Mrs. G in my life. What about you? Do you have anyone like that?” He couldn’t imagine she didn’t. She was smart, hard-working, direct, pretty...and he was clearly getting a crush. You’re working with this woman, Manning. Chill.

  He took a deep breath. The café smelled amazing—like stew and roasted vegetables—and his stomach rumbled. The talk of other patrons and the distant clinking from the kitchen made a low hum around them. Out the window, birds landed on the feeders positioned among the street garden. Fall leaves scuttered along the concrete and dotted the planters.

  “Ready to order?” the waitperson asked.

  Grant looked to Jena and nodded, signaling he preferred her to order first. She did, and then he made up his mind and placed his order.

  He sipped some water before he tried to get himself back to business. “So, what do you think of the project?”

  “I’d like to get Luke or Uncle Tim out, if you’re good with that. But it seems like something we could take on. As far as I can tell—and this isn’t my area—the structure is solid. It needs updated electrical and plumbing, and cosmetic work. That’s not mentioning the ya
rd. We can get a bid to you early next week.”

  Since it was Friday, that was plenty quick. He didn’t want to deal with the other main contractors in the area, so Levi and Company was already his choice, though he could bring in people from somewhere else if he wanted. But he preferred to work with them, as a rec from Mrs. G meant a lot.

  “That sounds good. You’ll be doing the electrical?” Mrs. G had given him a brief outline of the company, and Jena. He wanted to know more.

  “If you hire us, yes. I’ve been certified for a year, though between us all, we have over twenty years’ experience.”

  He smiled briefly. She seemed a bit nervous, the way she fidgeted with her napkin. “I don’t doubt your qualifications.” He was about to veer into personal questions, but that wasn’t a good idea. “Do you know anything about solar and other green building?”

  “I took some courses and workshops. What do you have in mind?”

  “A lot.” And he did. Though at the moment, it wasn’t just the jumble of project ideas, it was also thoughts of Jena, like who she was as a person, and what it would feel like to kiss her. Inappropriate. He ran his hand over his hair.

  “We’ve got lunch. I’d like to hear your ideas.” Her smile, though merely a polite quirk of her lips, seemed to beam some electric pulse into his chest, making his heart speed up.

  Was he blushing? He drank some more water.

  “You have a great smile.” Ah, geez, he’d said that out loud. If his brothers were here, they’d rib him something fierce for his ineptness.

  Her smile faded. “Thanks.”

  “I put my foot in it, huh?”

  She shook her head. “I like your smile too.” Now she was blushing, and that made her even prettier, bringing extra color to her light skin. “What are your plans for the property?”

  Good, she’d pivoted the conversation. He wasn’t ready to get more personal, and he needed time to get over the embarrassment of his random compliment.

  “I don’t know about plans, yet. That makes it sounds so definite.”