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“Coming,” Lucy muttered, and glared at the closed door. She let out a frustrated breath. She’d had her one night with the man of her dreams. Should she leave it at that? There were so many things that could go wrong if she tried to make any more of it, and Caleb wasn’t sticking around anyway.
But she wanted to do it all again . . . She looked up toward the attic space her grandma had converted into an apartment for the owner, and went up the stairs. Maybe if she helped Caleb and his father get on better, he’d be more likely to come back and see her, too.
She packed a small suitcase and lugged it down the two flights of stairs to the entrance hall. Caleb came in the door with another bag over his shoulder.
“Snow’s easing off.” He took off his beanie and set it on the reception desk, his gaze moving to her bag. “Glad to see you’re coming with me.” He gestured behind him. “I spoke to the Rosbergs next door. Denise said she had a spare key to this place and would be more than happy to look after Colin. Brian said he’d keep an eye on the generator, and if the repair guy turns up, he’ll let him in and update you.”
“You did all that?” Lucy asked.
“Yeah.” He frowned at her. “What about it?”
“It’s just . . . I’m not used to having anyone to take care of stuff for me anymore. It’s kind of nice.” She smiled at him. “Thank you.”
He looked disconcerted. “It’s no big deal.”
“It is to me.”
He turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen. “Let’s check everything out before we leave. I don’t want any loose connections or further power outages. Brian has spare gas for the generator if it needs it, but he reckons the power will be back on by tomorrow.”
Caleb was obviously as uncomfortable being thanked as she was accepting help. She followed him down the hallway.
“I need to pack up the food. It shouldn’t take long.”
“You go ahead while I check out the power situation.”
She was just finishing up when she heard the honk of a truck horn. An ancient Ford truck pulled up at the side of the house and an equally ancient cowboy got out. No one knew exactly how old Chip was because according to legend he’d arrived in Quincy about the same time as the redwood trees. His complexion was as rugged and brown as tree bark, and he’d lost one of his front teeth in a brawl way back when. He knocked on the back door and she went to let him in.
“Miss Lucy.” He touched the brim of his hat to her. “I hear you’ve been putting up with young Caleb.”
“His truck broke down, so he’s been staying here, yes.”
He stomped into the kitchen. His spurs that were stuck good and tight on his boots rang against the tiles. He looked around. “Seems wrong without your grandma here somehow.”
“Tell me about it.” Lucy sighed. “I miss her so much.”
Caleb came in. “Chip. It’s good to see you.”
“Right back at ya, youngster.” Chip winked at Caleb. “Your dad’s been fretting for days waiting for you to turn up.”
Lucy sighed as Caleb’s expression shifted to his usual skeptical frown.
“I didn’t get that impression. He didn’t even call me back.” He looked over at Lucy. “Are you good to go? I’ll start loading the truck.”
After Caleb took the bags out, Chip met her gaze across the kitchen table.
“Those two are as stubborn as mules.” he said. “Sometimes I just want to knock their heads together.”
“Caleb thinks his father doesn’t want him at the ranch,” Lucy said.
“And Isaiah thinks Caleb doesn’t want to be there.”
“Maybe we should lock them in a room together and leave them there until they work it out?” Lucy suggested.
Chip chuckled. “I’m game if you are.” He nodded at the countertop. “Don’t forget your phone. We’ve got power up at the ranch.”
“Thank God for that.” Caleb came back into the kitchen. “Now, if we can just load up this Christmas baking, I think we’ll be good to go.”
Lucy carefully locked the back door and took a long look at the house her grandmother had bequeathed to her. It looked almost magical with its snow-covered roof and dripping icicles. How terrible would it be if she lost the business less than a year after inheriting it? Her grandma would be turning in her grave and coming back to haunt her, and her parents would be vindicated that she wasn’t smart enough to run anything. She looked up as her cousin Bernie, who ran the coffee shop, came running over the street.
