Her Kind of Hero - Cindy Kirk Page 0,13
off Mitzi’s house to work on the house in the mountains. It was for the best. Though Keenan found the woman intriguing, she also irritated the hell out of him.
After a week away, he returned to the house-in-progress and was shocked to discover Mitzi had moved in.
“It’s not finished,” he said to Bill, incredulous. “Why did Joel allow this?”
A resigned look settled over Bill’s wrinkled features. “He didn’t allow her anything. She’s the client. This is what she wanted.”
“What about the dirt? The noise?”
Bill shrugged. “She works long hours. And we’ve got strict orders to be out of here by five. We’ve got the doors on, so security shouldn’t be a problem. This is a nice neighborhood.”
It was the kind of neighborhood Keenan wished he could have given Betsy when she was growing up. Where residents drove slowly because of families riding their bikes, where little girls played dolls on the porches and boys had mock sword fights in the front yard.
Even though he’d started delivering papers at ten, any money he made had gone to help make rent so they had a roof over their heads. That had been the best he could offer his baby sister. Keenan shoved the memories from his mind and concentrated on caulking. Normally, Bill wasn’t much of a talker, but today the man was like one of those rabbits with new batteries.
Once his coworker had exhausted every other topic, Bill settled his gaze on Keenan. “What was it you did before being sent to the Big House?”
Keenan didn’t take offense. In the short time he’d been working with Bill, his prison stay had quickly become a running joke.
“I was an airplane mechanic.” Keenan’s voice warmed, the way it always did when he thought about anything to do with flying. “I also had my pilot’s license and did some hauling for a charter service.”
Clearly perplexed, Bill tilted his head. “Why aren’t you doing that now?”
“Couldn’t find a job.” Keenan shrugged. “Right now, I’m saving up for a deposit on an apartment.”
“I thought you were living with your sister.”
“Not anymore.” Keenan looked down, wiped off some extra caulking with the side of a finger. “She and her husband haven’t been married that long. Now with a baby, well, they need their privacy. I got a room downtown.”
Betsy, he admitted, had wanted him to stay. She’d actually gotten tears in her eyes when he told her he’d found a room at a boardinghouse. Her husband, Ryan, a buddy from way back, had also tried to convince him to stay, but Keenan refused to be swayed by Betsy’s tears or Ryan’s logic.
They’d both done so much for him already. Though the room he’d rented was Spartan and the bathroom a shared one down the hall, it was still a step up from a cell.
“You probably need to get some flying time in if you want to get your license back.” Bill measured a piece of trim.
“Exactly right.” Keenan refused to be discouraged. It might take a few months but he’d fly again. “Time in the air costs money. Once I get an apartment and a few bucks together, that’ll be number one on my list.”
“My brother, Steve, owns Grand Teton Charter.” Bill’s gaze fixed on Keenan. “He’s been whining about one of his mechanics moving to Colorado. I could hook the two of you up. See if maybe you could do some repair stuff for him in exchange for air time.”
Keenan’s fingers tightened around the caulking gun. He’d turned down several friends who’d offered to give him money to help him get the air time. This would be bartering services, not charity.
“Sounds like a good plan.” Keenan kept his tone casual, not wanting to get his hopes up. Bill’s brother might not favor the idea. “Yeah, check and see if he’s interested in some kind of arrangement. If not, that’s cool.”
The rest of the day passed quickly, after Bill promised to speak with Steve that night.
At four-thirty, Bill started gathering up his tools. “My daughter has to work at Hill of Beans this evening and the wife is tied up. I told her I’d get off a little early and take her.”
The older man’s gaze slid around the room. He grimaced. “I wanted to get the rest of these doors hung today so the painters could start staining tomorrow. Looks like I’m going to have to call and reschedule them.”
When the older man pulled out his phone, Keenan held up his hand. “There’s only a couple left.