Page 11 of Carver’s Craving

Styx’s bright-blue eyes lit. “Can I give it to them?”

“Uh, sure.” Because that was the thing to say. Right? I didn’t have a monopoly on giving my babies treats—even if I was the only person who ever did. Well, except Dr. Zephyra, her staff, and Gallia at Wags and Love—the local pet store. Everyone on the list knew which treats and how many.

“Cool.” He took another bite of sandwich.

Do people even say cool anymore? I had no idea. Certainly the word wasn’t part of my vocabulary. “Yeah…cool.” Finally, I took a bite of my sandwich.

“So you still haven’t told me how you wound up here. In Mission City.” He took a sip of water.

I chewed, swallowed, and also took a sip. “I just sort of wound up here.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Sorry. I don’t believe that.”

I scowled. “Why the hell not? It’s the truth.”

“Did you get in your SUV and drive west until it broke down and that happened to be in Mission City?”

“No.” Duh.

“Then you picked this town for a reason. I want to know what it is.” He gestured toward the bag of books. “I suspect you didn’t read about the history of the Indigenous populations and decide this was the right place to settle.

I rolled my eyes.

“So…care to share?”

How to explain? I let out a breath. “I was going through online job listings, and I found one that fit in Mission City. I, uh, had a bit of money, so I bought a cabin in need of some serious work, and took a day job.” I gestured around the cabin. “I didn’t have money to put in new stuff, so this has mostly been about restoring what was here. Oh, new roof and shoring up both the front porch and the back deck.”

He nodded. “I don’t know much about real estate prices—”

“I got this place for a steal. The owners needed to sell or the bank was going to foreclose. I’d found a good real estate agent, and he negotiated for me. It helped I was also willing to let the owners stay until they could get the mess of their lives figured out. I lived in a short-term rental place for three months while they did just that. They moved on, I moved in, I rescued my two pooches, and I started to fix all the problems. I still need to get a new hot water tank, and the caulking around some of the windows needs to be replaced. Lots of little things remain as well—but she’s sturdy, and she’s mine. Well, along with the bank’s.”

“Oh. Nice that you had a bit of seed money.” He scratched his stubbled cheek. “I have, literally, almost nothing.”

“Ouch. Yeah, I owned a place in Toronto. Bought at the right time and sold at the right time. I also had more than ten years paid off on the mortgage, so I did okay. I never could’ve afforded most of the other places around here.”

“So you lucked out.”

“So I lucked out.”

He nodded. “Cool. Oh, what is it that you said you do?”

“I didn’t.”

A snort burst from him. “Glad to see your sense of humor is still intact.”

That statement took me aback. Unless he was being sarcastic. I’d never been known for having a sense of humor. I took everything seriously. Because people could get hurt if I wasn’t diligent and careful. Or people could die. Which was exactly what’d happened.

Still, Styx waited.

I sighed. “I work construction. Mostly houses, but also some condo projects. All here in Mission City. The place is growing. Apparently that happens because we’re at the end of the commuter line into Vancouver. The farther you are from the city’s downtown core—the cheaper the housing.”

“Ah.” He picked up his sandwich. “Construction busy these days?”

“Yep. I have work year-round out here.”

“Because you hardly get any snow.” He bit into his sandwich again.

“Pretty much. But we’d work even if it snowed. Plenty to do inside the houses. Generally, though, I do exterior work.”