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“Y’all can stay here in Cabin 17,” Aunt Helen said quickly. “We’re in no rush to list it for rental.”
“That’s bad business, Auntie.”
“It is family. I know you’ll want a place of your owneventually, but you take your time finding the right place. Find the best neighborhood for the children. Oh, Willow. This will make your mother so happy—if she ever tears herself away from naked men.”
“Naked men?”
“You said it’s a drawing class, didn’t you? Surely they’ll be studying the human form. What sort of lame drawing class would it be otherwise?”
“Oh, Auntie.”
Helen winked and called, “Drew? Emma? I’m leaving. Give me a hug and tell your mother to bring you to the lodge for lunch because it’s pizza day.”
“Pizza day!” Drew yelled.
“Pizza day!” his sister repeated. Both children darted from the forest and ran to give Auntie Helen her hug.
After the geography lesson and a science unit that involved a walk through the woods looking for beetles, Willow herded the children up to the lodge, where Helen convinced Willow—easily—to allow her to sub for Nana and take the kids into town to swim in her condo’s indoor pool. She also handed Willow two cards. The first was for the real estate agent who’d helped Willow’s mom buy her house. The second card advertised a business belonging to the daughter of Raindrop Lodge’s accountant—Little Ducklings Daycare.
Willow went back home and called them both.
Chapter Nine
NOAH’S HEAD WAS STILLspinning from kissing Willow when Gage Throckmorton dropped by the Hideaway to discuss replacing the fence that separated their properties. Noah jumped at the chance for some physical labor and declared himself ready to work the following morning.
Gage was skeptical. He intended to have a couple of his ranch hands do the job. But Noah’s leg was back to 80 or maybe even 85 percent, and he thought that fence building would be as good physical therapy as what his PT guy had him doing. He insisted that he do half the labor and pay half the expenses.
He was shocked as hell when the boss man himself showed up Friday morning with a UTV loaded with supplies.
The first day he and Gage worked together, they hadn’t done much talking beyond what was necessary for the job. By the end of the second day, Noah called the man friend.
Gage somehow got Noah to open up. In the beginning, their conversation revolved around typical stuff—sports, favorite brews and whiskeys, and barbecue methods. Thenalmost without Noah’s notice, the sly older man began slipping in questions. Before he realized it, Noah had revealed how he’d injured his leg.
“A firefighter, huh?” Gage had said. “I have a lot of respect for you guys. Takes big balls to go into a burning building.”
“Former firefighter,” Noah shot back. “I’m not going back.”
“Physical disability?”
Noah wouldn’t lie about that. Nor was he inclined to offer an explanation. He said simply, “I’m ready for a change.”
Gage let a long moment pass before he shrugged and changed the subject to barbed wire.
Noah was happy to discuss fencing. He didn’t owe the rancher any details about his injury or the events surrounding it. Yet he chewed on the exchange for the rest of the afternoon, and when he finally swallowed it, it sat in his stomach like sour milk. So when they finished working for the night and Gage dropped him off at home, Noah found himself spewing his guts. “I’m dealing with some PTSD. Had a fire get tricky on us. Lost some folks.”
“Damn. That’s rough.” Gage clapped him on the shoulder. “Like I said before, I have nothing but respect for firefighters. So, you up for another day mending a fence?”
“I reckon so.”
“Tomorrow is Sunday. The only work I want to do is haul supplies. Bring your fishing gear. We’ll be near my favorite fishing spot on the Triple T. Since we’re not drawing wages for our work, I figure we’ve earned a day on the creek, don’t you?”
“I won’t argue against it.” Noah grabbed his work bag from the back of the UTV, then posed the same question he’d asked of Gage at the end of the past two days. “Hey, Throckmorton. Don’t you need a puppy?”
“No, Tannehill. I damned sure don’t.”
As was his habit, Noah headed first to his workshop to tend to Marigold and the pups. After that task, he went inside, showered, and threw together something for dinner. He was hungry. This physical work had given him a better appetite than he’d had in months.
He decided to drag out the Crock-Pot and make something more substantial for his evening meals from here on out.
