I wasn’t a kid-oriented person. They were very cute, and Whitney Houston was right when she’d said they were our future, but I’d never understood how people would steal and cheat and die for them until the first time I’d held Aiden.
If I hadn’t already let myself start to like Goodman as a person, watching the way he gave Aiden a hundred percent of his attention would have done it. The sunshine in Goodman’s grin could have powered cities, and Aiden blossomed beneath it.
Aiden pushed up from the table and put his bowl in the sink. “I’m gonna go see the calf again!”
I looked at Webb, expecting him to shut that down since Aiden didn’t have the day off like Em did, but he was frowning down at his phone and not paying attention.
“Didn’t you tell me yesterday that you’d be doing soccer sprints in gym today, Aiden?” Goodman asked. “You need your gym clothes, right?”
“Oh, shoot.” Aiden winced. “I forgot. Thanks, Gage.” He ran off toward his room.
“Yeah, thanks, Gage,” Webb said, belatedly glancing up from his phone.
Goodman shrugged. “Sure. Hey, Webb, remember I was saying that I might need to borrow a truck this week? I ordered tensiometers and some other parts for the new irrigation system—you know, to measure the soil wetness?—and they arrived at the warehouse in Boston, but they’re having a huge issue getting them packed and shipped up here, so I told them I’d try to arrange to pick them up. I could take my car, but my car’s tiny, and I’m honestly not sure how big they are.”
“Oh, sure,” Webb agreed. “No problem. You can drive a standard, right?”
“I…” Goodman hesitated. “Technically yes. My cousin Fenn forced me to learn. I haven’t done it in a hot minute, and never on crowded mountain roads, but how hard could it be? It’s like riding a bike, right?”
“Oh, sure,” Drew agreed. “Like a two-ton bike. A bike with a clutch, if you will. Just take it slow and you’ll be fine.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Drew was right—the only way to learn how to drive these roads was to do it, and Goodman was probably a competent driver, so he’d be fine. Plus, the roads were so busy around here these days, he wouldn’t be going above a crawl until he hit the highway.
Still, the idea of him going alone gnawed at me for reasons I couldn’t put a finger on. I envisioned him going down one of the steep embankments just five or ten miles outside of the Hollow in a soaking rain—I mean, sure there was no rain in the forecast, but you never knew—and stalling out or sliding.
The thought made my chest go tight.
All is well with me.
I am in control.
It would be ludicrous formeto take him, obviously. I wasn’t his boss. But someone else really should.
Webb was frowning down at his phone again, so I kicked him gently under the table.
He looked up. “Huh?”
“Goodman doesn’t have much practice on a standard, and parking might be tricky in the city. What do you think about that?” I lifted an eyebrow significantly, trying to convey what Ithoughthe should think about that.
“Oh. Uh. I’ll drive you, Gage,” Webb offered.
“No, I don’t think that’s necessary—” Goodman began.
“It is, though,” I interjected, despite no one asking my opinion. “Route 26 around here is like one giant pothole. And do you know how many moose-related driving accidents there are in Vermont each year? Moose are like incredibly tall cows, Goodman. Cows on steroids. Like, if The Rock and a cow had a hungry, aggressive baby, it would be a moose.”
“Oh.” Goodman’s jaw dropped.
Drew snorted. “In no realm is that accurate, Ranger Rick, and you know it. Besides, this time of year, that part of the drive is thirty minutes of flatlanders creeping along at five miles an hour. And once he’s on the highway, he’ll be fine.”
This was almost definitely true.
And yet I found myself saying, “What about when he’s coming back in the evening? Moose are out a lot at dusk.”
“So, Gage will be cautious.” Drew shrugged like he didn’t get my problem. “Right, Gage?”
We both turned to Goodman, who nodded vehemently. “Yeah, no, I… yeah. I’ll be fine.”
“Webb,” I said sharply again.
