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“Wait a minute. Something happened at the wedding?Whathappened?”
“Nothing happened. I had an innocent conversation with your mother beside the lake.”
“Nothing? Well, I’ve been stewing on your ‘nothing’ since Monday.”
“What happened Monday?”
“My mother left to go to Aspen to pick up a Maserati and drive to New Mexico, where she’s taking ten days of drawing lessons. But before she left, she told me to ask you to explain about her passion.”
“Ah.” The proverbial light bulb went on.
“‘Ah’? That’s all you have to say? ‘Ah’?”
“Pull up a chair, Willow. There’s one at the desk over by the window. Watch out for the dog.”
“Drew says that you have a dog. He’s been pestering me ever—Oh! You have puppies!” Her mother’s passion problem momentarily forgotten, Willow went down on herknees and began cooing and oohing. “He didn’t say you have puppies.”
“I didn’t tell him. I was afraid he’d hike over the mountain at dawn.”
“What kind are they? How old are they? How many boys? How many girls?”
“She’s a stray who wandered up. I suspect someone dumped her when they realized she was pregnant. The pups—four girls, two boys—are three weeks old. Ready to find homes in another three.” He paused and pinned her with a stare. “You in the market for a dog?”
“They’re going to be big dogs, aren’t they?”
“Marigold is mostly a golden retriever, I believe. Maybe full-blood. Father is unknown, but based on the size of those feet, yes, they’ll be big. The vet told me to tell potential adopters to be prepared for seventy-five pounds for the males and sixty-five pounds for the females.”
“Marigold?”
He shrugged. “She was a round puff of yellow when she waddled up here. Seemed to fit.”
“She’s beautiful. The puppies are too precious.”
“I repeat. You in the market?”
Willow sighed. “Drew’s been asking for a puppy for forever. I’ve put him off because our living situation was up in the air.”
“Is it still up in the air?”
“Not as much as it was. This morning, I kicked the teeth out of the gift horse’s mouth.”
Noah didn’t have to think too hard to make sense of that. “You told your kids’ grandmother you didn’t want her house.”
“Yes. I’m not moving my family to Texas. But we’re notreturning to Nashville, either. I’m putting our house on the market. What happens next is still a work in progress. And that means I’ve got a lot of big decisions to make before I’m ready to let Drew have a dog. Now, you and these precious pups have attempted to distract me from my mission. Tell me what went on between you and my mother at my brother’s wedding.”
Since Willow appeared to be perfectly happy sitting on the workshop floor amid the puppies, he didn’t mention the desk chair again. Instead, he returned his attention to his project. Picking up his paintbrush, he explained. “Genevieve had a bit of a meltdown at the wedding, and I witnessed it. We talked. She spilled her guts. I gave her a piece of advice. Apparently, she took it to heart. That’s pretty much the story.”
“That doesn’t tell me anything. Why did she melt down? What advice did you give her? And what on earth does it have to do withpassion?”
Noah covered another shingle the size of his fingernail in purple paint. He didn’t need to be so meticulous, but over the past couple of days, he’d found that he enjoyed the detailed work. “I picked up some signals, but I’ll be the first to say that I barely know your mother, so I could be totally wrong. Take everything I say with a grain of salt. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“She came to Colorado in search of something. I don’t think she’s found it yet. She’s jumped into projects. Projects are all well and good, but they have an ending. I told her she needed a passion. Something that doesn’t have a completion date.”
“Oh,” Willow said, the light dawning. “Drawing lessons. She’s looking for a hobby?”
“A passion. Something in addition to her family.” While Willow considered what he’d shared, Noah carefully placed the painted shingle on the drying tray. A dozen more to go. He picked up another one and wetted his brush.
