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“Me too,” she said softly. “Sorely sorry for them and their families.” She paused a beat, a moment of silence and more heartache filling her.
Curt held her gaze, his blue eyes offering comfort and understanding. He’d lost his mum so he definitely understood sorrow. He eventually turned back to the eggs, giving them a final stir before shutting off the heat.
“What can I help you with?” she asked in a falsely bright tone.
“Pretty simple. Eggs, toast, and fruit.”
“It’s wonderful but we are going to have to find some way to exercise more, if you’re going to keep feedin’ me all these hip-paddin’ vittles.”
“Hip-paddin’ vittles?” He chuckled. “I enjoy the way you speak.”
“Ah, bless you.” She blushed. Being around Curt, it was easy to forget every worry.
They ate breakfast, cleaned it up, and she insisted on helping him clean something. He protested, but try telling a determined Southern gal no. They cleaned bathrooms together and started some laundry, including hers, and then Curt looked a little lost.
“I appreciate the way you entertained me yesterday,” he said, “but I’m not sure I can spend another day playing card games.”
“How do you usually spend your days?”
“Hiking and riding my dirt bike on the trails to monitor my mountains, hosting guests, cooking, cleaning, and working on projects in my shop.” His eyes widened as if he shouldn’t have admitted to the last one.
“Your shop? The large building out back? What do you build?”
“I built this cabin.”
“You’re proud as a peacock, which you should be. I love this cabin.” She wished there were some crazy world where she could stay here at this cabin forever. “Did you build it all yourself?”
“I had a lot of help. I mostly acted as the general contractor and did the woodwork.”
“Wait a minute. You…” She glanced around again, taking in the intricately carved stair bannister, fireplace mantle, cabinets, built-in shelving in the living room, baseboards, crown moldings, and wood trim around the windows and doors. “That’s a whole lot of impressive woodwork.”
“Thank you.”
“You sly fox. You didn’t say a word yesterday about you building and carving all of this beauty.”
He smiled. “It’s not as if I carved it by hand.”
“You have equipment then?”
He nodded.
“In your shop?”
Another nod, but his blue eyes were wary.
“I have to see this equipment and this shop. See the master at work.” She clapped her hands together. “They’ll let us outside, right? Those impressive guards can guard us outside as long as we don’t go haulin’ all over the mountainside. Right?” She grabbed his hand and tugged. “C’mon.”
“No. The shop is a mess, and I haven’t …” He stopped and looked around the main room as if desperately searching for an excuse. “I want a rematch at that golf card game.”
“Oh, no. No, no, no. I simply have to explore this shop and see where you make the magic.”
“There is no magic.”
Aliya stopped tugging at him, suddenly feeling like she’d overstepped some boundary she’d never seen drawn. Curt was decidedly uncomfortable now. He’d been so gracious and welcoming. Something was definitely wrong. What was wrong with the shop or wrong with her or wrong with going outside? Was he simply protecting her or protecting himself?
“I’m being pushy as a door-to-door salesman. You’d prefer to play a game? Bless you for being willing to hang out with me during my time of brain injury and protective custody.” She smiled, she hoped brightly. “Don’t think I’m so grateful that I’ll let you beat me at golf. I’ll see how we can change things up today to keep us entertained as a group of teenagers at Sunday School.”
He laughed outright at that. “I didn’t know teenagers found Sunday School entertaining.”
