Page 94 of Crossing Every Line

“Never forget that job option is open to you. Bring your mom along too—maybe a fresh start would be best for everyone if that’s what happens.” The worry in Evelyn’s eyes oddly made Kendall feel better.

“You’re good people, Evelyn.”

“Don’t let it get around, kid.”

She made a cross over her heart. “You got it.”

* * *

“IF YOU EVER need a reference, you’ve got one. This exceeded my expectations by miles, Shane.”

The pride he understood, but the aftershock of restlessness made his shoulders feel heavy and tight. He’d worked his ass off to finish this project. Hell, he’d poured more of himself into this one job than he had in years. But it wasn’t for Doyle. It wasn’t even for the pride of a job well done.

His gaze slid to Kendall and Evelyn in the shade of the stables at the end of the building, and his shoulders eased. It had been a good-bye, he realized. That was his future right there. That pocket of sunshine that was Kendall. Not another job like this, not another project that utilized years of knowledge and yet left him strangely unsatisfied.

It was the excitement of what he’d find with her.

He was anxious to start something new for the first time in years. The only thing he’d taken enjoyment in was his furniture making, but now he had a glimpse of more than sawdust and a cedar-soaked basement to find happiness in.

Maybe he had so much more to look forward to.

He turned to Doyle. “I appreciate that, but this is my last job.”

“It’s a waste of pure talent. You were born to lead men.” Doyle followed his gaze. “I can see why you’d want to change your life, but don’t forget that lust doesn’t put food on the table.”

Shane tucked his thumbs under his arms. No, it certainly didn’t. “I’m starting my own business.”

“But you just said you were hanging it up.”

Shane shrugged. “Not quite. You like the tack boxes and carvings?”

Startled, Doyle looked around at the extras Shane had added to the stables. “You did that?”

He’d made the additions on his own. “Yes.”

“Well, hell, boy. I thought those were bought by my first foreman.” Doyle smoothed his palm across the careful etching outside one of the stalls. Shane had framed in rosettes at the corners of the iron bars on the upper part of the stall windows. Again he’d used the torch to warm the cool white pine. Just a little something extra. Something that was just him.

Doyle wandered to the tack boxes he’d built out of leftover pine and materials. He’d built ten to be shared between the twenty stalls.

It felt like his stamp was finally on something lasting. He’d crafted buildings for use. Office buildings and houses were built to someone else’s specifications. He’d made them look exactly like what the blueprints had called for. Nothing of him remained besides a solid structure.

And for a long time that was enough. But he wanted more. He wanted to leave a mark. Had it taken losing Larry to realize that? He’d been adopted into his name, into his business, into his family, but Shane had never really made anything that was just him. Not until he’d toyed with his furniture business on the side.

Not until now, when he’d had the urge to leave something of himself behind. Ever since he’d started this job, things had felt just a little bit off. He and Kendall were out of sync, and he wasn’t quite sure how to get them back on track. And if he was going to have a sleepless night, at least it would include something that soothed him. Woodworking had always soothed him. Now he had Kendall to add to that list.

The fact that it was a painfully short list was starting to bother him.

Doyle returned to stand in front of him. “You can be sure that I’ll be the envy of every horseman in the area. I have you to thank for that.”

“You had the perfect setup. All I did was finalize the work.”

“You did much more than that, but we won’t get all mushy about it.” Doyle handed him an envelope.

Shane tucked it into his back pocket without looking at the amount. He held out his hand. “It’s been a pleasure.”

Doyle shook it. “If you ever need anything, you have but to ask.”

Shane smiled. “I’ll remember that, sir.”

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