Page 13 of Loyally, Luke
Luke shrugged off the inner growl. Extra caution made sense.Ms. St. Clare and Mr. Holton didn’t know Luke any better than he knew them, so for the kids’ sake, and the reputation of the Royal Trust, bringing in a respected person sounded smart. “Morning.”
Mr.Brooks dipped his head and returned the greeting.
“If you’ll lead the way, Ms.St.Clare, I’ll be happy to get started with the assessment.”
Something flickered in those pale eyes as she stared back at him. What was it? A question? Concern?
He shook off the curiosity. He didn’t know and didn’t need to know. Instead, he’d just keep to his usual mantra. Do the job, enjoy the craftsmanship, play nice, and move on.
Besides, he had experience with not meeting high-class demands, and the reminder hit deep. His ex-girlfriend proved the sting of that choice all too well in her attempt to make him more “refined” just to impress her new friends. In the long run, he’d ended up miserable and with the clear understanding he’d never measure up to her world.
A hard pill to swallow when they’d both come from the same small town.
But she’d changed to suit her fancy.
A shift that only turned her into someone he didn’t recognize anymore with expectations he would never, and didn’t want to, meet.
Luke kept in step behind Mr.Holton, who followed Ms.St.Clare and Mr. Brooks.
“You’re going to have to tell me the story of how you met her,” Pete whispered, his grin almost impish. “I get the sense it wasn’t ideal.”
“Just a coffee mess-up. That’s all.”
Silence. But the kind of silence Luke could feel. Like a warning.
“Sounds like a movie meeting to me.”
Yep. It was a redhead thing. Luke heaved a sigh. At least the man didn’t use the termmeet-cute. “Nope. Just a simple mix-up.”
“But then to have her show up here? As our supervisor?” His voice was edged with humor. “It’s a mad coincidence, is all I’m saying.”
“Mad” matched the overall vibe of their first meeting, that was for sure.
The group’s path took them through a classroom, which was currently empty of children; a massive room that must have been some ballroom in its former life, and which Mr.Holton thought was currently used as a gym; a large dining hall; and a few smaller rooms into a kitchen. A good-sized kitchen, if they were inside a house, but not the size suitable for a place serving dozens of children.
The room stretched into a few smaller adjoining rooms—ones Mr.Holton mentioned they’d like to bring into the renovations for additional space, a smaller dining area, a storage room, and a closet. From the looks of it, the kitchen had needed modernizing for a long time. Dated cabinetry. Nicked walls. Original fixtures.
And the floor dipped and dented from over a century of use.
Luke rested his hands on his hips, surveying the space. All cosmetic, from what he could tell. Straightforward fixes.
Assuming the foundation wasn’t in trouble.
So, with an unwelcome audience of untrained viewers—apart from Brooks—Luke examined the concern areas in the kitchen and then followed Brooks into the crawl space for a look at the underbelly. The age and build of the space tempted Luke to linger a little longer within the dark corners, just to make note of building patterns and materials used over a century ago, but he kept to his goal: structure.
He’d restored old houses back home. Mt. Airy had a couple dozen Queen Anne–style houses and Victorians. The Smith and Merritt houses back home probably boasted the same age as this one, but weren’t nearly as grand... nor made of stone.
He pressed on a board here and scraped at the stone of a wall there, carefully moving his trained eyes over every spot available to assess. After about an hour, he stood from his ducked position and plucked his flashlight from between his teeth before turning in Brooks’sdirection. “Do you know what the other company used to justify a weak foundation?”
Brooks gave his head a shake. “I wasn’t available for their inspection, so I cannot tell you.”
“Well, if you’re seeing what I’m seeing, then it looks like that other company was trying to hoodwink this orphanage.”
“That was my concern too, which is why I encouraged Ms.St.Clare and Mr.Holton to take a second opinion.” Brooks raised his flashlight, larger than the one Luke carried in his pocket, and swept the shadowed space with another splash of light. “Once I heard the company’s name mentioned—Westons is what they’re called—I wondered if they were up to no good. Their investors are after property, and there aren’t many places as pretty as this spot. Westons is polished, so they charm their way into business, from what I’ve heard.”
“Pretty is as pretty does,” Luke’s granny used to say. And the idea of somebody trying to trick money out of an orphanage? That just made him downright mad.
“You’d think kids like this would inspire a bit more compassion and a whole lot more virtue.” Luke stepped toward the door, giving the space another look. “And from what I can tell, there’s no need to tear down their home.”
