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As always, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter!
oOo
He dreamed of India that night.
Will woke in a cold sweat, the air conditioner making the room seem even cooler. Blinking away the images of what might have been, he sat up and wandered to the small corner deck attached to his room.
It wasn't uncommon for dreams of his most recent mission to interrupt his sleep. On more than one occasion, he'd literally dreamed up several different outcomes, none of them pleasant. But this time. . . .In this one, they'd failed to stop the missile in time, and the entire western seaboard of the United States had been obliterated. While not original in the least, Will had enough compassion to recognize what would happen. Even without the nuclear fallout, the results would be devastating. His analyst's mind automatically began calculating the most natural conclusion to such a scenario, and it left him watching the sun come up as he tried to put his recent work back into perspective.
They hadn't failed. The missile hadn't been detonated. The world didn't know how close it had come to nuclear war. And his team had come through in spite of injuries.
What more could he want?
Heading downstairs to the dining room, Will settled into a corner table. The bed and breakfast also housed a restaurant, and guests at the B&B received a complete breakfast. Today, it was sausage gravy, biscuits, and scrambled eggs. He ordered a cup of tea and sipped at water while he ate. Then, he reached for the newspaper the elderly owner had delivered with his morning meal. The New York Times. Will skipped the sports section and the gossip page, going directly to politics and world news. He read every word, stopping only long enough to add a touch of sugar to his tea. Even on vacation, he couldn't shake the need to know everything that was happening in the world at that moment. He never knew when it would come in handy.
With his morning routine out of the way, he drove back to the beach house. The yard still needed taming, and the front and back decks begged for attention. He was not expecting to see Noelle on the front porch, draping the bedspreads over the rails.
She looked up as he parked, her hair tied back in a bun and brown eyes smiling at him. She appeared rested today, probably as a result of sleeping in a bed rather than her van. Her faded jeans and t-shirt told him she'd geared up for some serious work. "Good morning!"
Will returned her smile. "You've been busy."
She shrugged. "I found all the blankets. They're in pretty good condition, but needed a good washing."
He nodded. "I have no idea how old those things are." He stopped and thought for a moment. "Come to think of it, I remember the one I put on your bed yesterday from when I was a kid. So, at least twenty years old?"
She stepped carefully over a hole in the deck, her chosen shoes for the day sturdy tennis with scuffs along the sides. "Believe it or not, that makes it even better." She rolled her eyes at him as she waved him inside. "If you haven't noticed, I have a thing for vintage. The older, the better."
He stopped just inside the door. Her coffee had scented the house, blending with the lake breeze that came through every window to create a welcoming environment. "Then you'll get along great here."
"I know." She reached for a travel mug. "I made coffee. There's plenty since I didn't know what time you'd be here."
Will almost declined, saying he preferred tea. But something stopped him. Maybe it was her hopeful expression or just that he'd not been invited to join anyone for coffee just for coffee's sake in years. "That would be great."
While she poured him a cup, he wandered to the back door. The day was beautiful, perfect for more yard work. The forecast called for gray skies in the coming days, and it was still early enough in the year that the beautiful weather could change in an instant. He wanted to make the most of the good weather so that, when he returned to Washington in three weeks, he could leave knowing most of the work had been done.
Noelle delivered his coffee, and Will thanked her. Then, he asked the question that had been lingering in his mind. "Your name. . .Blake?"
Her smile turned tense. "I lived here as a teen." She sighed as she thought. "My family moved when I was sixteen."
"How long ago was that?" Then, Will realized how that sounded. "I'm not asking about your age, if that's what you think. It's just that the name seems really familiar, but I'm having a hard time placing it."
"It's been seventeen years." She glanced at him. "My parents moved us to Chicago."
He thought for a moment. The name was entirely too familiar. It brought up images of summer days on the beach, his cousins' ire when he managed to talk to the pretty girl with freckles, and. . . .He shook his head. "You're not going to believe this, but we've met."
Her eyebrows rose. "We did?"
"Yep. But, back then, I knew you as Fran."
A slight blush darkened her cheeks. "Don't remind me of that." Then, she frowned. "Help me out here. You obviously have a better memory than I do."
"Billy Hayes?"
Her jaw dropped. "You're Billy Hayes?"
He laughed with her. They'd met the last time he'd been out to the beach house. One of his cousins had had a crush on her, and he'd found a way to stick it to his family for excluding him. It had prompted arguments and an ultimate withdrawal from any and all family vacations. "Yep."
"But you. . . ." She motioned to her hair and ears.
"Had crazy hair and pierced ears?" He sipped at the coffee she'd given him. "I grew up."
"I'll say!" Then, her eyes grew round. "Sorry. That just slipped out. I didn't mean. . . ."
Will laughed, and it felt good to know she meant nothing by the statement. "Relax. I understand. You grew up, too."
That tense smile returned, and he suddenly realized it was her way of putting on a mask. Whenever something got a little too close to home, she would throw up that smile. Most people wouldn't notice it, but he'd been trained to read expressions.
Deciding to give her a break since she had just moved back to Ephraim, he motioned toward the back door. "I think I'll get on with the yard while it's cool out."
She agreed and went back to whatever would occupy her time.
Just before noon, Will heard another car pull to a stop in front of the house. He rounded the corner in time to see an older gentleman greet Noelle with a smile. He motioned to the couch in the back of a truck, and Will rushed forward to help. With Noelle directing them, the two men managed to situate the pretty but old couch against the windows near the back door. Noelle found rags to put under the feet of the couch so she could slide it around without marring the floor. The off-white upholstery caused dust to puff into the air, and she sneezed quite daintily as she went to work beating the thing to get the dust off of it.
Back outside, Will finished the yard. By then, the day had passed and the cool of evening started to settle over them. His back ached, and his muscles hurt in a way they hadn't in a long time. He worked out regularly, and his recent adventures with Ethan Hunt had caused a bit of soreness. But this was the pain of good, hard labor. Glancing around, he nodded happily. The overgrown shrubs had been trimmed down, the knee-high weeds and grass cut, and the tree branches trimmed away from power lines and the house. He'd left some of the wild growth around the edge of the property, forming a privacy barrier until he could get a fence built. But it looked so much better. He'd even discovered two Adirondack chairs that needed sanding and painting but could last for a while longer. Before tossing them, he figured he'd let Noelle decide what to do.
She appeared as if summoned by his thoughts. Her shirt was dirty and bleached in spots, and her jeans had a new hole ripped in the knee. Wisps of hair framed her face, and she had a dark smudge across her chin. But she looked happy. "Wow! It looks great out here!"
He nodded. "I knew there was a yard under that growth."
She studied his handiwork for a time before flushing and forcing herself to meet his gaze. "While you were working, I was cleaning the bathroom. I couldn't help noticing. . . ." She motioned to the window, which now showed everything in the room thanks to his aggressive pruning of the climbing rose.
He ran a hand over his mouth. "How about some privacy screens?"
"Please!" Noelle spotted the chairs at that moment and dropped the subject, but Will continued to think on it. He wasn't a carpenter or builder. He was just a spy. As such, he read people well, did what was necessary, and faked what he didn't know until he did know it. But building things? He'd never been especially handy with tools of that sort, and having a house that needed so much work would certainly test the limits of his patience.
Feeling an exhaustion headache coming on, he left Noelle planning how she would repaint the chairs and use them somehow to drive back to the bed and breakfast. She had waved when he said goodbye, and he gratefully retreated to his room to enjoy some quiet. After a very long, very hot shower, he logged onto the Internet and started a bit of research.
He had a deck to lay, privacy screens to build, and a house to repaint. He needed help and a lot of instructions.
He fell asleep propped up on his bed with the computer in his lap, a home improvement show playing. That night, he slept peacefully and didn't dream a thing.
oOo
Ephraim, Wisconsin, boasted a population of around three hundred. During spring break and summer, the population swelled as well-to-do families brought their children up for a break from their busy lives. But, most of its residents lived on retirement checks and their own personal savings. The village had a small general store, a post office, one motel, one bed and breakfast, a few fast food places, and several gas stations and churches. The biggest source of year-round income came from the marina and all related services.
That evening, in the dining hall of the bed and breakfast, two men in their seventies shared coffee as they ended their busy day. Axel Wolff ran the B&B with his wife, Greta, while his brother-in-law, Matthias Janson, owned the town's second-hand store. The two liked to shoot the breeze and get on Greta's nerves. Tonight, however, their conversation drew even her attention.
"I saw it," Matthias declared. "With my own eyes."
Axel shook his head. "Blakes and Hayes in the same house? Was it peaceful?"
"Yes!" Matthias's eyes widened. "He even helped me move a couch in for her."
Greta sipped at a cup of tea. "Well, I'm glad one of the Hayes finally decided to come back to that place. Been a shame to have it sittin' empty for so long."
Both men nodded. Then, Axel asked, "Which Hayes is it?"
Matthias grinned. "William."
The trio fell silent. All of them remembered how badly Joseph Hayes had reacted to his grandson's birth. None of them really held it against poor William. He'd grown up to be a decent man if Axel believed what he saw. William Hayes-Brandt had checked into the largest room the bed and breakfast offered, not questioning the rate and keeping to himself. Axel remembered the kid from years ago, and he knew that only his mother's memory had kept William from self-destructing.
Greta settled back in her chair. "Wonder why he's the one here. I thought Joseph disowned him."
The men with her shrugged. They knew the history. It had been all over town for decades, buried but ever present. Finally, Axel glanced at Matthias. "What about the Blake girl?"
"Francesca?" Matthias smiled proudly. Before opening the second-hand store, he'd taught at the high school. "She's as pretty as ever. Don't think she knows or cares about family history. Otherwise, she wouldn't have rented that house from William."
The conversation continued as the three reminisced about their glory years and how the town had changed. By the time they retired, they'd agreed not to speak about the Blakes or the Hayes again. If William Hayes-Brandt and Francesca Blake wanted to start up something that would set off another family feud, it was their business. Neither of the two families lived in Ephraim any more, and the only way the relationship would cause trouble would be if a wedding took place. Even then, most of the town would appear just to see the fireworks and how many bruised egos went home.
oOo
Will Brandt didn't believe in love at first sight, but he did believe in love at first sound. He liked Noelle as a person, but he loved her first name. Francesca. It just evoked images of an Italian villa, nobility, and luxury. But Noelle seemed to hate it, and he wondered why.
There was a peace in Ephraim he hadn't found anywhere else. And he'd been to quite a few places around the world. But, as he got older, travel didn't appeal as much as it once had. He found himself missing times when he could relax without pressure or the job invading. Noelle seemed to sense that need and fill it without making it obvious.
Shaking his head as he drove to the hardware store, Will glanced at the coffee beside him. He still preferred tea, but she made something called piñon coffee. It was sweeter than the average roast, and he liked the somewhat nutty flavor. A touch of sugar and vanilla creamer took it to a whole new level, and Noelle had smiled when he complimented her on the cup she'd presented to him that morning.
He made her uncomfortable, though. And he knew why. Will's line of work involved reading the opposite sex well enough to know what the woman wanted from him. It helped when he had to seduce the rich girl or just make a woman—other than Jane—talk to him. While Noelle didn't want anything, she still betrayed her thoughts through body language. She found him attractive, something that stroked his male ego, but she had no intention of pursuing it.
Will breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't come back to Ephraim to find a woman. He'd returned to settle affairs with the beach house.
At the hardware store, he browsed the available lumber and picked out several new colors of paint. He and Noelle had talked that morning, and they'd agreed that the house needed something inside. Noelle liked the idea of muted tones, keeping the majority of the walls white with color to offset the blandness. And Will liked her willingness to do the work. Not that he would take advantage of her. If she found a job, he'd happily put in the time to get the house where both of them wanted it.
It felt odd to have someone else share a vision for the home. Nice, but odd. He and Noelle had nothing between them beyond a shared past some twenty years ago, and their respective desires to keep things platonic had created a truce. The beach house seemed to be the one thing they both loved, though in very different ways. Noelle adored the place, while Will had slowly come to appreciate the history. It wasn't good history for the most part, but, in his world where family was nonexistent, it grounded him.
After collecting the massive amount of supplies, he drove back to Ephraim and delivered things to the beach house. Noelle had spent the day wandering town, and she smiled as she told him the owner of the bed and breakfast had agreed to hire her as a hostess for both the B&B and restaurant. She helped him carry the paint inside while telling him about Greta, and Will shook his head. Noelle fit this town, and he was glad to see someone he cared about settling into life.
The sun had fully set by the time he arrived back at the bed and breakfast. Staying here felt more like a vacation, and it allowed him time to rest and think. His corner suite and small deck looked over the lake and hearkened back to a time before cell phones, before computers, and before life became so difficult.
Tired of thinking, he made his way upstairs and ignored the sensation of someone watching him. Once in his room, he dropped the oblivious act and moved to the window to look out. Life in the IMF taught him to never truly relax, even if he knew the bed and breakfast's owner had questions. Will had given the old man nothing to worry about, and he had yet to decipher the surprise or suspicion he saw around town. It just fit right in with what he remembered of family vacations in Ephraim. The warm feelings starting to blossom about the beach house were offset by the knowledge that the people here knew something. He couldn't help wondering if that something had anything to do with him.
oOo
The next morning, Noelle rose early and brewed coffee. Then, she dressed for work. In Chicago, she'd been in insurance, but it had been a job. This new position at the Wolff bed and breakfast was different. When she'd been there the day before, she'd felt almost at home, like she knew these people rather than merely remembering them from her previous time in town.
Will arrived just as she finished tucking her long hair into a bun. The simple hairstyle looked elegant on her, and she'd chosen a black skirt with the blouse she'd worn the first time she met Will. Or, rather, re-met Will. Even now, she still couldn't believe that William Brandt was the same Billy Hayes she'd flirted with as a young teen. Back then, Billy had been older, dangerous, wild, and just what her fourteen-year-old heart needed for the summer. Her parents hadn't liked him, but her parents didn't like the Hayes family. Billy Hayes was forbidden fruit, and, in spite of the disapproval, she'd bitten. They had merely been friends, with Billy the indulgent older brother who liked hanging out with his younger sister. But it had left an impression on Noelle.
Now, she watched him climb out of his car and glance around. Today, he wore old jeans, a light-colored shirt untucked, and work boots. His hair was a touch too long, brushing the tops of his ears and collar, and the breeze coming from the lake ruffled it beautifully. The wild-child was gone, though, leaving behind a man who obviously had his own career and life. He said he works in Washington, D.C. I wonder what he does.
Instead of dwelling on the questions, Noelle opened the door and let him in. She'd already made coffee, and he smiled as he accepted the cup she gave him. He glanced at her clothes. "Work?"
"Yes." She shrugged sheepishly. "I get off at five, and I can help after that."
He shrugged. "No problem. I'll work on the deck while the weather holds."
Noelle eyed the sky. The clouds had settled over the area, changing the once-blue sky into dark gray. "Good luck." She checked the time. "I really need to go."
"Have a good day."
The exchange was so normal, so domestic. Noelle watched as he stepped out of the house and waved from the front deck. Before she got out of the drive, he'd turned his attention to the tools he'd stacked nearby, already reaching for the first bit of lumber. But she sensed him watching her head to work.
How did she feel about having Will around? She liked him, and he didn't pressure her. The last couple of days had been nice. He was a good conversationalist and seemed to disdain their families' mysterious feud.
But he was dangerous. She couldn't shake the sense that there was more to Will Brandt than what he showed the world. His ability to tell when she wanted to drop a subject unnerved her, and she wondered how he'd figured out what her trigger subjects were.
Doesn't matter, she decided as she arrived at work.
For the first half of the day, Noelle filled out paperwork and listened as Greta Wolff explained the B&B's computer system. It didn't seem all that complicated, though the first time she checked in a visitor would probably prove otherwise. Greta was a sweet woman, seventy-two and a grandmother. She called Noelle "Sweetie" and insisted she join the family for lunch. "Family" consisted of Greta, her husband Axel, and her brother Matthias.
When Greta told Matthias that Noelle would be joining them, Matthias's face lit up. He met Noelle's eyes. "You don't remember me."
Noelle frowned as she sat down. "I'm sorry, I don't. Should I?"
He grinned, his tired blue eyes sparkling. "Eighth grade English?"
Noelle's jaw dropped, a reaction she couldn't avoid. "Mr. Janson!"
"Make it 'Matthias' now. I'm not teachin' anymore, and you're old enough to use my first name." He held her chair for her. "Besides, it's nice to see one of my students come back for once."
Noelle shook her head. She'd never been particularly fond of reading before eighth grade, but Mr. Janson had made English fun. Because of him, she'd entered—and won—several writing competitions in high school. Her mother often said she could have been a bestselling author, but she went and got married instead. At eighteen, fresh out of high school, Noelle had wanted romance over success. Now, at thirty-three, she regretted not picking success.
Lunch went well until Axel turned to her. "I have to say, we're all a bit surprised that you rented that house."
Noelle felt the temperature in the room drop several degrees. About that moment, it started raining outside, and she had the random thought that Will had been rained out of his plans to finish the deck. "Should I have gone somewhere else?"
"No." Axel, at seventy-four, still managed to look like a sheepish little boy under the disapproving gaze of his wife. "It's just that Hayes and Blakes don't mix."
Noelle set down her fork, grateful she'd eaten most of the food. Unfortunately, Greta's wonderful cooking had gone to waste as it turned in her gut. "With all due respect since you're my boss, don't say stuff like that. Will's a friend from years ago, and it doesn't matter what happened with our families in the past. He was a friend then, and he's a friend now." She lifted her chin. "I make my own decisions, not my family."
Matthias glared at his brother-in-law for a moment. "Ignore Axel. He's too nosy for his own good."
Noelle nodded, but her day had just been destroyed. She'd known since childhood that Hayes and Blakes didn't mix, but no one had ever explained why. Having that pointed out now stung. She'd come back to Ephraim to get away from a bad relationship. She didn't need one forced on her by well-meaning but misguided friends, even if said friends were old enough to know the town's secrets.
At five, she waved goodbye to Greta and drove home. As she came around the curve in the road, she watched the rain stream down her windshield and sighed. What happened between the Hayes and the Blakes? It was obviously big enough to still be known, and she hated that people automatically assumed she and Will would hate each other. He left her feeling slightly off-balance at times, but she still liked him.
Movement in one of the windows drew her attention, and she smiled. So, Will was still around. He'd obviously transferred his work inside, painting the living room. Noelle ducked her head and managed to get inside without being totally soaked.
The entire house smelled like fresh paint. And the living room looked great. Will stood on a step stool, using a brush to cut in around the ceiling. Noelle's couch had been pulled away from the wall, and the just-off-white shade highlighted the trim around the windows. She smiled. "This looks wonderful."
"Oh, hey." He set his brush in the empty can he'd been using and stepped down. "I didn't realize it was five already."
"Yep." Noelle carefully set her purse on the counter between the kitchen and living room. "You didn't have to paint inside. I can do that."
Will straightened, his hands going to his pockets. "I don't mind."
She saw it then: a twitch of an expression that was hidden almost before she could realize what it was. Will Brandt wanted to be wanted. Not in a sexual sense. He just needed to know someone enjoyed his company and wanted him around. He was lonely.
Noelle knew how that felt. "Why don't I make some dinner then?"
He opened his mouth to decline and obviously thought better of it. Leaving him to go back to painting, she headed to her room to change into work clothes. Will was a good enough friend to help her with the house, his obligations as a landlord notwithstanding, and he didn't ask too many questions. Why, then, would the people in town be shocked at the two of them being friends?
What had happened between the Blakes and the Hayes? Why didn't they mix? And why would no one tell her anything?
The questions multiplied the longer she lingered, so she hurried to the kitchen. Will finished painting the living room and cleaned up the area while she made stirfry from fresh vegetables to put over rice. She used some leftover chicken from the previous night to season it, and the two of them shared the couch while watching the rain come down on the beach. Later, when Will left, he promised to leave some work for her the next day.
Noelle watched him go. Thanks to her well-meaning boss, she now had questions without answers, and she'd never been one to ignore her curiosity. Unfortunately, she had no way of finding those answers just yet, and the only person who could help her refused to talk to her.
~TBC