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Caleb put on his work gloves and walked down to the opposite end of the barn. He got the wheelbarrow, checked the occupant of the first stall, and went on in.
“Hey, Snowy. Long time, no see. How’s it going?”
By the time he’d raked out the third stall he’d forgotten about the cold and was working up a sweat. Chip and his dad worked right along with him, exchanging the occasional word but otherwise keeping to themselves.
Caleb stopped near his dad. “Do the horses need feeding?”
“Not yet.”
He nodded and went back to his task. The motions were so familiar that he soon got into the rhythm and was almost surprised when his father finally spoke again.
“Time to get washed up for dinner.” He turned to Chip. “You’re joining us, right?”
“Couldn’t keep me away,” Chip joked. “I saw those cookies Miss Lucy’s been baking. If they’re anywhere near as good as her grandmother’s we’re in for a treat!”
Caleb gathered up the tools and wheelbarrow and hosed everything down before replacing it in the feed room while his dad stood silently by. He shut the door and turned to face him.
“Anything else I can do before we go in?”
“Not right now.” His dad whistled to his dogs. “I could do with some help later tonight.”
“Okay.” Caleb walked past him and headed for the house.
“Thanks, son.”
Caleb didn’t stop walking or acknowledge his father’s comment. As far as he was concerned, that grudging attempt to converse rated around a zero. The weird thing was—he didn’t care. Being in that space with his father had been remarkably soothing and familiar. He’d almost enjoyed it. Weird how different the chores he’d endlessly complained about as a teen now seemed far more important . . .
He pushed open the door to the mudroom and inhaled a lungful of Christmas. Lucy was in the kitchen making gingerbread cookies. Her hair was in a messy bun on top of her head, and one of his mom’s old aprons covered her clothing. He paused to appreciate her. She had a touch of the Christmas fairy to go along with her sunny personality and she really did brighten his day.
Caleb frowned. What the hell was wrong with him? Enjoying working in the barn and smiling foolishly at his best friend’s annoying little sister . . .
“What’s up?” she asked, her spatula held in one hand like a wand.
“Nothing. It smells good in here.”
“That’s the casserole. It’s nothing to do with me.”
“Yeah, it is.” He kept walking. “I’d kiss you, but I’m covered in horse shit.”
“Eew.” She wrinkled her nose and warded him off with her spatula. “Go and take a shower.”
“Already on it.” He winked and moved on through, his steps slowing as he neared his bedroom. When had he started winking? His team in Seattle wouldn’t recognize him right now. He was the hard-driving boss, the man who made them work twenty-four-seven, without remorse.
And he was tired of being that person. Of constantly outperforming himself. He let himself into the bathroom and regarded the Spider-Man shower curtain his mom had bought for him when he was fifteen. The plumbing was better now and the water hot and plentiful, even if he did have to stand in the bath and bend his head down about a foot to get it under the spray.
He only noticed Lucy must have put shower gel and shampoo in the wire basket when he recognized the scent from the B&B. Despite her claims to be ditzy she was nothing of the sort. Now that he thought about it, her parents had always been a little dismissive of her achievements. Her decision to take over her grandma’s business obviously hadn’t pleased them. He soaped his hair, rinsed it off, and stepped out onto the rag rug his mom had made.
He wrapped himself in a towel and went back into his bedroom to change. He could hear the water running in his dad’s part of the house, which meant dinner wouldn’t be long.
“Oh!” Lucy came in and hurriedly shut the door behind her. “I didn’t realize you were out of the shower.”
Her gaze lowered to his bare chest and stayed at the towel knotted on his hips. “You look . . . nice.”
“Nice?” He took a step toward her. “Like, how nice?”
“Like if I didn’t have cookies in the oven right now and your father wasn’t expecting us for dinner, I’d be unwrapping you like an early Christmas present.” She licked her lips, which did all kinds of things to his anatomy.
“How long until the timer goes off?” Caleb asked hoarsely, forgetting he wasn’t supposed to be totally into her.
