Cyndi shrugged. She'd thought about that, but really didn't know who to call. “Between you and me and Linda, we should be able to manage."
Shamus shook his head. “Some of this furniture is way too heavy. We're going to need a couple more guys."
Anger filled her at this reminder of how much the people in this town didn't like her. She'd almost forgotten in the few minutes she'd spent in Linda and Amanda's company. “Well, it's not as if I can just pick up the phone and call someone. If you've forgotten, I don't have a lot of friends in this town."
"But I do.” Ignoring her burst of anger, he wrapped his hand around her nape and squeezed gently. The tight muscles in her neck loosened and she almost groaned with pleasure.
"You can't put yourself in that position, Shamus. You don't want to make them choose between your friendship and their animosity toward me and my family."
"Don't worry about it.” Reaching into his back pocket, he drew out his cell phone.
"You keep saying that, but I keep worrying. One of us has to worry.” She didn't understand how he could be so blase about this.
His mouth tightened slightly, the only indication that he wasn't quite as relaxed as he seemed. “Better to know now rather than later. If folks I've known most of my life are going to turn on me for something like this, then I want to know."
"Oh, Shamus.” He already had problems with his family because of her. This would just make it worse. “Maybe you should just take off for the day."
He shook his head. “You're not getting rid of me that easily.” He planted a quick kiss on her lips. “You're not to blame for other people's actions. They're all responsible for themselves."
"But you being around me isn't helping,” she pointed out.
"Maybe not, but it feels right to me.” He rubbed his nose against hers, inhaling deeply before pulling away. “Damn, you smell good."
She laughed. “Stop that. We both have work to do today.” She remembered the journals and papers on her father's desk. “I finally had a look in the office safe."
Concern filled his blue-gray eyes. “Anything you want to talk about?"
"Not yet. I didn't have a chance to go through the journals or papers yet. I plan to do it tonight. But I did find a lot of jewelry. I know they belonged to my mother, but I don't feel any attachment to them. I'm going to sell them.” She said the last decisively. It was the right thing to do.
"Whatever you think is best.” He cupped her face in his hand. “All I want is for you to be happy."
What had she ever done to deserve a man this fine and good? “I know.” Turning her lips into his palm, she placed a kiss there before stepping away. “Now, you've got paint to bring in and I'm going to store all those papers upstairs. I'll get Amanda started in the library before Linda and I head to the dining room."
"Okay.” Shamus rolled his shoulders. “I'll make some calls before I bring in the paint from the truck."
Cyndi stood in the doorway as he sauntered toward his truck. He already had his phone to his ear and was talking to someone on the other end. She hoped he didn't have his hopes up too high. She doubted he'd find someone willing to help her.
Footsteps on the stairs alerted her to the fact that the other women were on their way to join her. Closing the front door, she took a deep breath. She only hoped she and Shamus knew what they were doing. Their relationship was going to have to face a lot more hardships before it got better.
Chapter Seventeen
It took Shamus half a dozen calls, but he finally found two men from his usual work crew who were willing to come and help him at Cyndi's. They were younger than some of the ones he'd phoned first and hadn't had any dealings with her father. Therefore, they didn't have any of the prejudices many of the older folks did. Heck, they barely even remembered Cyndi. Plus, they were glad to earn some extra money on the weekend.
It was shocking to him how many people who'd called themselves his friends for years, found it easy to turn their back on him now when he asked for their help. People he'd helped over the years without question. Live and learn, he told himself.
He still hadn't given up hope his family and some of his friends would come to accept the fact that Cyndi was a part of his life. They were good people, and he had faith in them. But in the meantime, he wasn't going to stand around and hold his breath either. Shamus was a realist. All he could do was move forward with his life, making the best choices he could.
Pocketing his phone, he went to the back of the truck and lifted out a box containing several gallons of paint, drop cloths, and paintbrushes. The air was crisp for an October morning, but not cold. The sun was shining, beckoning people to come out and play. Maybe he'd convince Cyndi to go for a walk later.
He bounded up the front steps and let himself into the house. He could hear the murmur of voices and followed the sound. He glanced in the library on the way along and saw Amanda Barrington already hard at work. She was leaning over a table, typing into her laptop, several large books alongside her.
He shifted the box in his arms and continued on to the dining room. Standing in the doorway, he watched Cyndi interacting with Linda Fletcher. Cyndi was animated as she opened the china cabinet and displayed the contents for the antiques dealer. She laughed at something Linda said and Shamus couldn't help but smile. Damn, he had it bad.
As if sensing his scrutiny, Cyndi's gaze jerked toward the door. Shamus ambled into the room and deposited the box in a clear corner before joining the women. “How's it going?"
"Good. Linda is going to take everything in this room from the table and chairs to the dishes and silverware."
"Great. You need any help packing this stuff?"
"No.” Linda shook her head. “No offense, but I want this packed properly. Do you have any idea what this stuff is worth?"
"Nope.” Shamus grinned as he leaned over to study the dishes. They were okay, he supposed. The blue color was pretty enough.
"They're Wedgwood.” The tone of Linda's voice was almost reverent. “And the crystal is Baccarat."
"I take it that's good?” Hell, even he recognized that name. It meant expensive. “You sure you want to dump all this stuff?"
"I'm sure.” Cyndi straightened her shoulders and nodded. He was beginning to recognize the stubborn expression on her face—the one that signaled she meant business.
"Good enough. How about I bring in some of those boxes from the truck parked out front?"
"That would be wonderful.” Linda was already carefully transferring the dishes from the cabinet to the table. “If we get these packed up, then we can clear this room for you fairly quickly."
"Works for me.” Unable to resist the lush fullness of Cyndi's lips any longer, he dropped a quick kiss on her mouth on the way out the door. He heard Linda say something to Cyndi as he left. Both women laughed. Shamus grinned and whistled as he headed back to the truck to bring in the rest of the paint. Then he'd start on the packing boxes. Hopefully, Ben and Kurt, the two men he'd contacted, would be here by then and the real work could begin.
Later that afternoon, Shamus went in search of Cyndi. The dining room and parlor were now empty, and all the furniture that used to sit in both rooms was carefully packed aboard the panel truck that Linda had driven here. The library was a study in chaos, with boxes piled everywhere. He heard some muttering from within and assumed that Amanda was in there, somewhere behind the mound of boxes, still hard at work.
The men he'd called to help him had just left and they'd not only managed to paint the dining room, but prime the walls in the parlor as well. Shamus had run out to the hardware store, after they'd all stopped for a quick bite of soup and sandwiches, and picked up more primer and the paint for the smaller room. They hadn't counted on getting that done today, so it was a bonus. Cyndi would be pleased.