Page 100 of That Rush

“You weren’t exaggerating about unused.”

A thick film of dust coats the wood floor, and an abandoned chair is upended in one corner. The built-in desk is scarred with age but still solid. Light pours through two windows, one facing the pastures and the other framing the mountains beyond the creek.

“The roof is good,” I say. “I need to replace the wiring and refinish the floor.”

“You’ve considered fixing it.”

“I consider fixing everything that needs work. It’s an occupational hazard.”

Paige steps around old feed records and tests the window latch. It gives on her second attempt, letting cool air stir dust across the sill.

“You could do something with this.”

“I could.”

She looks at me. “That wasn’t a suggestion for you to hand me a hammer.”

“I know better than to assign you a project.”

“Look at you, learning.”

Paige moves toward the second window and stands in the sunlight beneath it, her hair loose around her shoulders now that she has taken off her hat.

The plan was to show her an empty building and return to the house. She starts examining the walls, treating the room like a puzzle worth solving.

“This could be a library,” she says.

“A ranch library?”

“A private one.” She spreads her arms and turns slowly. “Shelves on every wall. A reading chair here. A desk under that window. I could close the door, disappear inside with a stack of books and a well-stocked cooler, and ignore civilization for days.”

She is standing twenty yards from my house, imagining a place where she could be entirely alone. She’s describing solitude, but all I hear is that she sees a future for herself here.

“You’d last six hours,” I say.

Paige lowers her arms. “Excuse me?”

“You’d run out of snacks.”

“I would plan ahead.”

“You were going to call bread and cheese dinner the first Friday.”

“I brought wine.”

“That supports my argument.”

She walks toward me. “I’m beginning to think you enjoy being corrected.”

“I enjoy watching you try.”

“Arrogant.”

“You came back.”

Her smile softens. “I did.”

A breeze swings the door shut behind me, the latch clicking decisively into place.