by Tanya Agler
“What did he say?”
Quite a bit. “There’s good and bad news.” Those words slipped out of his mouth and he winced. He hated it when people started like that.
“The bad news first.” Lucie’s shoulders stiffened and her chin went up.
“Hmm. This could take a while. Maybe we should just enjoy game night. Make a happy memory. Then we’ll decide whether to talk tonight or tomorrow.” He joined her at the door and longed to tuck that stray lock of curly blond hair behind her ear. There was never a good time for them to find out if there could even be a them.
“You’re avoiding the subject. You could have just told me the bad news by now.” She was so close he could make out her long eyelashes setting off the violet glint in her blue eyes, the exact color of a morning glory flower.
Okay, then. He rubbed his stubble, now a beard. It was taking some time to come in, but he liked the solidity of it, same as he liked the solidity of Lucie’s home. She deserved the truth. “Owen had qualms about my giving you an online recommendation. He’s worried that might sound like I’m using my official capacity to endorse your business. A part-time job is okay, but he drew the line at the other.” He leaned against the house, her light floral scent making it especially hard to keep his distance.
“So I can hire you as a nature consultant to lead hikes and tours, but you can’t publicly promote my business while you’re a park ranger? I guess there are worse things than seeing your mug on a regular basis.” Her lightness came through, and good humor brought a twinkle to those morning glories before it faded and disappointment lurked there instead. “You won’t endorse my company. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Can’t. There’s a difference.”
Her stiff shoulders argued otherwise, and her hand tightened on the knob.
Before she could open the door, he laid his hand over hers, an ice block to say the least. “Your hands are freezing.”
He rubbed the tips of her fingers, wanting to transfer some of his warmth to her.
“I only came outside to check on Mattie. And speaking of Mattie, she and Ethan are scariest when they’re quiet, unless they’re fast asleep. Is that everything?”
The warning about hurrying wasn’t wasted. “No. How much do you know about last month’s rescue?”
Her cheeks flushed two pretty spots of pink, an exact match for the carnations dotting her long-sleeved T-shirt. “You sure are jumping around a lot tonight, but I can keep up. I know what every news outlet reported.” She glanced at her socked feet, from which two woolly llamas stared up at him. “And the Hollydale papers. And social media accounts.”
Hmm. She’d read about him? In spite of everything standing between them, he couldn’t help but feel flattered and appreciated. “Then you know the father of one of the boys used to play for the Carolina Cannons and was MVP when they won the championship. Now he’s their manager, and he’s the reason the story was such a big deal in the news. I called Jared and asked if he would endorse you. He’s right in the middle of spring training, but when the team returns to North Carolina, he’s going to contact you about setting up a visit.” For Lucie, Caleb had broken his rule about calling in a favor.
“On the one hand, you should have consulted me. It is my business, you know.” She arched an eyebrow and untangled his hand from hers, folding her arms.
“I know. I should have asked you first.”
“But I’m so glad you did it.” A smile lit up her expression, and she hugged him.
The door flew open and there stood Ethan, who turned around. “Hey, Mattie, you’re wrong. Mommy isn’t sending Mr. Caleb away. She’s hugging him.”
Ladybug trotted to the front door, while Pita escaped again.
“Mommy, Pita wants in on the fun.”
“Mattie, set up Candy Land, please.” Lucie turned to Caleb, her smile a little shakier now. The silence extended for a long beat then she started for the kitchen. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.”
“Wait a second. Does the family like pita bread or how did Pita earn his name?” Caleb extended his hand for Pita to sniff, the dog’s tail wagging faster than an oscillating fan. “Her name.” Lucie’s nervous laugh gave nothing away as she slipped on some fuzzy boots. “I’ll let you figure it out.”
The challenge was there, almost like she was daring him to decide whether he was brave enough to take on the Decker household.
Pita sat on her haunches, her tail continuing its back-and-forth trajectory. She waited for Caleb to pet her while Ladybug came over and claimed her spot on Caleb’s foot, her tongue lolling, her low grunts hopefully those of approval.
Mattie threw her hair back and stomped off toward the dining room, her stance on his decision to stay very clear. Ethan tapped his foot, his wide grin giving Caleb confidence he fit right in.
Fitting in wasn’t something Caleb did well.
Coming to Lucie’s house with its blended family of animals and humans felt like finding his way home. Felt like...but couldn’t be—not with all the obstacles between them.
He petted Pita with one hand and used the other to lavish attention on Ladybug, all the while smiling at Ethan. Looking around, he smiled at how Lucie blended the old with the new in an eclectic style that matched her personality. After the game was finished, Caleb would have to open up to Lucie about the woodpeckers and Owen’s pronouncement about possible legal action to protect their habitat. Caleb had no idea how Lucie would take all of that. For a few more minutes, Caleb would enjoy the time in Lucie’s presence.
Someone needed to look out for her and be her beacon in the midst of all this. While he’d love to apply for that position, he worried more about being the next resident of Hollydale to hurt her again.
* * *
TEN MINUTES LATER, Lucie shut the shed door behind her, Fred and Ethel content in their pen, which gave them access to the sheltered run adjacent to the building. She’d come back and turn off the infrared heater before she went to sleep. For now, the miniature pigs were snuggled together with water and clean bedding.
No more excuses separated her from game night and Caleb. Her cell phone rang and she glanced at the screen. She’d gotten a visit from the furnace repair service this afternoon—they’d had a cancellation at the last minute and had sent the technician out to look at her furnace. A call in the early evening did not bode well. She listened as the owner of the furnace company confirmed her suspicions that the whole air-conditioning and heating system needed replacing. She leaned against the shed for support before thanking the man for the personal call.
Twenty thousand dollars for a new unit. Where would she get that kind of money? That and the cost of Caleb’s salary, if she hired him, were not in her current budget. Tablets for the staff had maxed out her last reserves. Her business account only held enough for the salaries of the staff she’d already hired and little else. She’d be running on fumes until the companies that had already signed up as clients forked over the remainder of the amount owed after their retreats were over.
The outline of her Victorian house glowed in the evening dusk, the yellow fading to a soft cream. If her business failed, Aunt Rosemary could swoop in and lay claim to the lodge and cabin, and Lucie would have to go back to odd jobs to make a living. When all was said and done, her aunt could sell everything associated with the business if Lucie didn’t pay her back. Then she’d have to start all over again.
At least she hadn’t mortgaged the house. If she had done that and failed, she and the twins could be homeless, not to mention Fred and Ethel, Midnight, Ladybug and Pita, and the bunnies.
Without a working heating and cooling system, though, her business would definitely fail. The lodge and surrounding land would be sold to pay back what she owed Mitzi and Aunt Rosemary, and who knew what developer would purchase the property and for what reason.
Selling her assets and
leaving town was the option the bank president, Franklin Garrity, had wanted from the beginning—and he wanted the proceeds to go to Justin’s victims, herself and the twins excluded—but that was never under consideration in her book. There’d have been no way to support herself or to try to win back the town’s respect.
Had she been a fool to even think she could win back Hollydale’s respect?
She looked at her phone. One phone call to her partners would clear up whether they’d be willing to shell out more money. After all, this was a legitimate business expense, and she couldn’t open without a working furnace. Protecting their investment would be prudent. Giving them that option was her best choice.
Might as well get the more difficult call over with first. She called Aunt Rosemary and tried to get a word in edgewise.
When would that first repayment check be transferred to her account? When would she see a return on her money? If Lucie listened to her more...
Finally, the opening she’d been waiting for came. “The furnace gave out.”
Stony silence fell over the line. “I have a buyer lined up.” Her aunt’s words sent a chill down her spine.
“I’ll figure something out.”
The call ended within seconds, and Lucie stared at her phone. How could she rope Mitzi into extending her any more money?
Her stomach roiled at the last-ditch option she’d been keeping in her pocket. She saw no other choice but to march into the bank, swallow the remnants of her pride and apply for a mortgage so she could buy a new furnace. Better to mortgage the house than to sell everything she’d worked for over the past few months.
Somehow, in the walk between the shed and the house, she’d have to paste on a fake smile that would convince Caleb nothing was wrong. That might prove impossible considering the gaping ache that dulled her stomach. Caleb had always been able to read her like a geological terrain map.
Reaching the door, she flung it open and put aside her feelings. She couldn’t wait to lose herself in a round of Candy Land.
* * *
SOMETHING HAD HAPPENED out in the shed. Caleb was sure of it. While the dining room’s crystal chandelier bathed its occupants and the antique mahogany table with a golden glow, Lucie’s smile hadn’t reached her eyes since she’d come inside. Sure, she had laughed at Ethan’s puns and ribbed Mattie about her bad luck, but she’d also held back.
Her vitality had buoyed up Caleb since his return. Before he left tonight, he’d ask if she’d share with him whatever had happened earlier. Maybe together they could work out a solution.
“One more game,” Ethan pleaded when Caleb moved his piece into the winner’s circle.
“It’s bedtime, and it’s a school night.” Lucie reached for the last kernel of popcorn and popped it in her mouth.
“I demand a rematch.”
Lucie shook her head at Mattie’s demand.
“Then winner has to clean up.” Mattie pushed her chair away from the table with a stare in Caleb’s direction before she turned to Ethan. “Bet I’m done getting ready for bed first.” Mattie ran for the stairs, Pita bounding after her while Ladybug snored and snuffled on Caleb’s foot. The bulldog must sleep through anything.
“No fair. You have a head start.” Ethan scrambled out of his seat in the dining room and followed his sister.
Caleb reached for the game box with a shrug. “I was rooting for Mattie, but I couldn’t figure out a way to let her win.”
Lucie shook her head while collapsing the board. “That’s called cheating and you’d also be taking sides. I started family game night with them so they’d learn how to win or lose with grace. On the whole, everyone’s wins and losses balance out.”
Since he’d left Hollydale, it seemed as though more losses had added up in Lucie’s column while the wins had factored more in his. At least, most people would sum up their present situations like that. Then again, contented animals and happy twins proved them wrong. While he’d succeeded in his job, she’d succeeded in rebuilding her life.
“I thought for a couple minutes it would be family fight night, but they seemed to take defeat well.” He handed her an errant token, and electricity zapped his fingertips at her touch. From the way her eyes widened, she’d experienced it, too. He jerked his hand away, remembering he had no right to reach out for her warmth. “And that might be the first time I’ve ever heard kids bet about who’ll be ready for bed first. Jonathan’s daughter Vanessa always wants to stay up later than her sister Izzy.”
“I made a deal with them a long time ago.” Lucie placed the lid on the box and rose. “Whoever’s ready and in bed first gets stories and tucked in after the other twin, thereby staying up for a whopping ten extra minutes. Bragging rights are a great motivator. I’ll be right back.”
She climbed the stairs and he debated moving, but Ladybug was a definite deterrent, her snuffled snores endearing. When he returned to Jonathan’s house tonight, he’d miss all of this.
And when he moved out of Jonathan’s?
He wouldn’t think about resuming his life as a bachelor. By then, his work schedule would be full and he’d lose himself in learning his new job. Work had always kept him busy in the past.
Why did that not seem enough anymore?
Pulling out his phone, he checked the real-estate listings the agent had forwarded. Nothing caught his eye. The best properties were too far from the station, and the close ones needed too much work for a rental. He typed his thanks, along with a request to keep looking.
“More bad news? The look on your face is quite intense.” Lucie hesitated at the doorway of the dining room, her laptop in hand.
“Nothing dire.” He laughed and held up his phone. “It’s Robin, my real-estate agent. No luck yet.”
“Guess all your luck tonight went toward winning the game.” And yet again, that smile didn’t light up her eyes.
“Lucie...” How did he begin to get her to trust him when he himself withheld information from her?
As much as he’d wanted to explore something more with her, to find something more to life than just work, she needed him to listen right now as a friend, nothing more.
“I’d ask if you want decaf or something, but I’ve got a couple hours of hard work in front of me.” She crossed the room and reached for the dimmer switch on the wall, increasing the intensity of the lighting from a soft glow to blaring incandescence. “I’ll let you know if and when I hear from the baseball player.”
While he recognized the brush-off, he couldn’t leave. Not yet. “What happened when you checked on Fred and Ethel?”
Her soft sigh filled the room. “I almost forgot about them. Do you want to walk out with me? We can say good-night before I turn off the infrared heater.”
Her message was clear. The evening had come to an end, as all good evenings did. For a few hours, though, the Decker family had included him, and he was the better for it. “I’d like to meet the infamous Fred and Ethel before I go.” Rising brought a muffled moan of discontent from Ladybug. “Sorry, girl.”
Ladybug licked the denim of his jeans, as though accepting his apology for dislodging her from a contented nap, before shuffling toward the stairs.
“Don’t be alarmed if they don’t accept you. It takes a while for miniature pigs to accept anyone. I think they’re worth the time and effort.”
They stopped in the foyer while he gathered his coat. Then he followed her to the kitchen. Lucie grabbed her jacket from a hook on the back door, picked up the bin of scraps, and flicked on the patio light. She opened the door. The blast of cold air took him by surprise. One thing he had missed about the Great Smoky Mountains was the unpredictability of the seasons. In Yellowstone, the seasons were simple—three winters and a week of summer. Here, spring turned back to winter before coming through in all its splendor.
“Be careful on the path. There’s some loose
gravel.”
Lucie wedged the shed door open enough for him to go into the enclosure, more like a small barn inside than a typical shed. Caleb wandered in, and a motion-sensor light flickered on, illuminating the area, which was warm from the infrared heater in the corner next to a dilapidated couch on one side and a pen on the other. The sweet smell of hay filled the air. One of the miniature pigs, that description misleading as it probably weighed a good hundred and fifty pounds, grunted its hello and came over to them, nudging his hand.
Caleb glanced at Lucie.
“Wow, Ethel likes you. She doesn’t normally take to new people so fast. Sit down on the couch. I’ll wager Fred comes out of the pen, too.” Lucie pulled a carrot from the top of the bin and handed it to Caleb. “This one’s for Ethel.”
A slight twinkle returned to Lucie’s eyes as they dared him to follow her instructions. Caleb was game for anything. Once. He settled on the couch. Ethel followed him and jumped up next to him. His eyes widened, and every muscle in his body went on full alert. “Is she allowed up here?”
Lucie laughed, the sound music to his ears. “Are you going to tell her different?”
Good point. “What do I do now?”
“Give her the carrot. Miniature pigs are slow to bond with people, but, for some reason, she liked you on sight.” Almost on cue, Fred peeked over the edge of the pen, and Lucie patted his head. “Fred is more of a ladies’ man. Nothing personal.”
“No offense taken.” Caleb held out the carrot and Ethel munched it with glee. “Now what?”
“You’re the park ranger. You should know.”
Forestry school had prepared him for integrating forestland with community needs, analyzing soil samples and adapting plans for wildlife to exist in nature with encroaching settlements. Nothing had prepared him for Ethel.
And yet there was nowhere else he wanted to be than on a couch in a shed with a pig who thought she was a lapdog.