“Not really.”
“I thought for sure he’d want to be here for the open house.”
“They don’t want the owners to be present for those things. Only the agent. They would have just asked him to leave anyway.”
“I know that, but to help get the house ready and everything.”
“I’m sure he trusted you girls to do a good job on that. And you did, from what I saw last night.” He leaned forward and turned the key in the ignition. Turner Chandler owed him. He hoped the man appreciated all the times he’d come to his defense.
“Shall I call ahead for the pizza? Do you care where?”
“Your call. I never met a pizza I didn’t like.”
She dialed, and he heard her order three large pizzas. When his brow went up in surprise, she laughed and looked at him over her phone. “We like leftovers,” she whispered. “You can take some home too.”
He gave a big thumbs-up.
A few minutes later, they were headed out to the cottages, his SUV filled with the aromas of hot pizza and cold rain. As soon as they came around the curve of the cottage lane, they saw that Phylicia’s car was the only one there.
“Hmmm. The lights are off. I hope the electricity isn’t out.” Looking puzzled, she twisted in her seat to take in a one-eighty view of the property. “They must have gone to church after all.”
Disappointment flooded him, but he knew he needed to offer. “I can just go on home.”
“Without eating pizza?”
“I wasn’t sure you’d be comfortable if it’s . . . just the two of us.”
Her laughter sounded more like the nervous kind. “Quinn, we just spent the entire morning ‘just the two of us.’ I’m fine with you coming in for—” She stopped mid-sentence. “Oh. Unless you have a policy or something.”
“About being alone with a woman?”
“About not being alone, actually … Dad always had that policy. That he’d never be alone with a woman who wasn’t his wife. You know … just to avoid temptation.”
He nodded, trying to ignore the fact that she’d seemed clueless that such a policy might apply to him. With her. What did he have to do for her to see how he felt about her?
He curbed a smile, wondering how she’d respond if she knew what he was thinking. “I’ve always admired your dad for that. It’s inconvenient sometimes to have to rearrange things so he’s not alone with a woman … office doors open and traveling in separate vehicles. And he gets razzed for it sometimes.”
“Really? I never knew that.”
“It’s good-natured—for the most part. But I’ll tell you this: several of the guys at the office have adopted similar policies because of your dad.”
Her face fell.
“What? Doesn’t that make you proud?”
She huffed. “I guess there needed to be a policy about hospice nurses.”
“Phylicia . . .” He wasn’t sure why he was so reluctant to let her vent about her suspicions about her father. Except that he’d always felt a strong loyalty toward his boss. His friend. He’d never dreamed that loyalty might pit him against the woman he was… just admit it, Mitchell… falling in love with.
But it tore him up to see her turn against Turner this way. Especially given what he knew about her father now. The man didn’t need any more strikes against him. “Has your dad come out and admitted that things started with this nurse before your mom passed away?”
“No. He hasn’t. But even if it started after Mom died, it’s just a little too soon for comfort.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry I said anything. I didn’t want to go there again.”
“I really don’t mean to lecture you, but I know your dad pretty well. Differently than you do. I just don’t believe he would do anything that wasn’t appropriate.”
“So you believe it’s appropriate to get engaged two months after your wife dies? Because that’s a fact. I heard it from the horse’s mouth.” She seemed surprised by the bitterness of her own words and hung her head. “Again, I’m sorry. I should keep my mouth shut. None of this is your fault.”
“Can you at least withhold judgment until you know for sure how it all happened?”
“I’ll try.” She gave a wan smile and tapped the pizza boxes stacked on the console between them. “Now about that policy. Is it going to keep you from sharing this pizza with me?”
“I seem to recall your dad had a policy for his daughters too.”
“Oh, he did. Not that I ever needed it while I was living under his roof.”
“I remember him telling about Joanna violating the rule once.”
That made her laugh. “Oh, she got in so much trouble! Mom and Dad came home and found a boy in the house …in Jo’s room, no less. I honestly think that might be when Jo decided to become a lawyer, because Dad basically grounded her for the rest of her known life. Yet, somehow she managed to weasel out of it. Britt and I were so mad. It was totally unfair.” Her wistful expression made him think her thoughts had carried her back to happier times.
Outside, the rain had let up a little. He turned off the ignition, sorry to break her reverie but not wanting to get drenched again either. “Hey, let’s make a run for it while we can.”
She looked through the windshield. “Good idea. I’m starving.”
He handed her the umbrella he’d retrieved from the glove compartment and reached for the pizza boxes. “Can you get everything else?”
She held up her purse. “This is it. But don’t you think the guy with the pizza should have the umbrella?” She opened her car door and stuck the umbrella out far enough to open it. “Stay there … I’ll come around.”
He did as she ordered, and she came around to share the umbrella with him. And with the pizzas, of course. Close enough to smell her heady perfume, he hunkered shoulder-to-shoulder with her, heads together, laughing and jostling each other as they climbed the steps to the porch.
She unlocked the door and they shed their coats on the covered porch. The house was chilly and he offered to light a fire.
“We haven’t had a fire yet, but you could light those candles if you want. In case the electricity goes out.”
“Oh … sure. I’m kind of surprised it hasn’t yet. That speaks well of the wiring in this old house.”
He lit the candles with the wand lying on the mantel. The effect was charming … and romantic. Though he didn’t dare voice that thought.
They both jumped when thunder shook the cottage. A few seconds later, lightning flashed outside the windows.
Phylicia poured iced tea, set out plates and napkins, and opened the pizza boxes.
“Mmm …” He inhaled. “Smells good!”
“Help yourself.” She handed him a plate. “I’m going to call my sisters and make sure everything’s okay.”
He put three slices on his plate and carried them to the table by the window in what they called the breakfast nook. He didn’t start eating, waiting for her.
She’d carried her phone around the corner into the living room, but he overheard most of her end of the conversation. It sounded as if her sisters had gone to Joanna’s to finish moving her things out, but when the rain started, they decided to do a little shopping instead.
When Phylicia came back, she loaded her own plate with two slices and joined him at the table. “My crazy sisters are out shopping in this deluge.”
“I gathered that.” He pointed toward the living room. “Heard your end of the conversation. I … really wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.”
“No problem.” She took a few steps into the living room and looked out through the enclosed porch at the rain. “I sure hope the cabins don’t have any leaks.”
“I didn’t see any water damage when we walked through, did you?”
“No, but it’s been a long time since it rained this hard.”
“Do you want to go check on them? I’ll come with you.”
“Maybe we should. But let’s eat first before our pizza gets cold.”
/> She returned to the table and for the next twenty minutes they laughed and talked. About this morning’s sermon, about growing up in an all-girl family, and about Quinn’s opposite experience of having just one brother. An older brother.
“Older, huh? So, he must be like, my dad’s age?” She worked to keep a poker face.
“You had better be kidding.”
She laughed at his appalled expression. But it created an opening to ask something she’d been wondering about more and more since Quinn had told her how his brother had been healed of cancer. “How old is Markus?”
“He’s … I guess he’d be forty-eight now. Wow. That is old.”
Really old. Why did that bother her so much?
“But hey, don’t lump me in with him,” Quinn added quickly. “Markus was almost seven when I was born.”
That meant Quinn was forty-one. Maybe forty-two. Still … she was in her twenties, he was in his forties—two whole decades. Funny, he didn’t seem that old to her anymore.
“Does your brother live around here?”
“No. He’s in Austin. Married, with a baby girl, a dog …the whole enchilada.”
“Ah, so you’re an uncle.” She could easily picture him with a couple of giggling toddlers slung over his shoulders.
“I am, but … I don’t see my brother’s family.”
“Ever?”
“Not since he got married.”
“You haven’t even met your niece?”
He shook his head.
“Really? Why, you don’t like kids?” Maybe that was why he’d never married.
“I like kids fine. It’s not that.”
She frowned. “I’m sorry. You said you and your brother have some issues?” Her questions sounded too forward now that the words were out, especially given how he’d clammed up last night.
But he didn’t flinch. “It’s not that I don’t love him. We just … aren’t close. Physical distance is part of it. And we were so far apart in age. And the whole faith thing. But …” He shook his head. “It’s complicated. Let’s just leave it at that.”
Despite her heightened curiosity, the pain in his expression kept her from pushing him. “I don’t know what I’d do if my sisters moved away.” That was even more true now that Mom was gone. She didn’t want to go there and sought something to lighten the moment. “Of course, I might not feel the same after we’ve all lived together in this little cottage for a few more weeks.”
He laughed. “It won’t be so bad when the cabins are done and you each have your own place.”
“Except when we rent the cabins out and all end up here together again.”
“Still, if you’re doing things the way you first planned, you’ll at least each have your own place to get away most of the time.”
Phee admitted that she was getting excited about the possibilities. And even about renting the cabins out as an Airbnb. “It’s a lot easier to be excited about the renovations now that we’re living here.” She looked around the small, open cottage. “There’s still a lot I’d love to do to this place, but it’s already more charming than my apartment ever was. I never cared that much about the apartment. How it was decorated.”
“That’s because it wasn’t yours. It makes a difference when you own a place and the stamp you put on it is at least somewhat permanent.”
“True.” She didn’t correct him. Even though she was beginning to feel as if she could talk to Quinn about anything, he didn’t need to know her reasons for never bothering to fix up her apartment—that it would have felt as if she were settling for being single. And Quinn was right that ownership made a difference in how she viewed this place and in how much she was willing to invest of her time, money, and affection. “And getting this cottage fixed up has given us ideas for what we want to do with the cabins.”
“Speaking of the cabins”—he wadded up his napkin—“shall we go see if they’re staying high and dry?”
“Sure.” She closed the lids on the pizza boxes and blew out the candles Quinn had lit earlier. As the smoke curled up toward the ceiling, her stomach clenched at the realization that Quinn might have taken the candles as a romantic overture.
The knot tightened when she realized that she wouldn’t have minded at all if he had.
Chapter 23
The rain had let up a little, and Quinn held the door as Phylicia made a dash across the property sans umbrella. She didn’t seem to mind if she got wet now that she’d changed into jeans and a hoodie. He’d hated to end their conversation over pizza. As long as they kept on neutral territory, he loved talking to her.
At the same time, he’d been a little on edge, worried that the conversation would turn to her dad, and then he’d have to clam up to avoid revealing his secrets.
“I didn’t mean to rush lunch, but I promised your dad I’d look in on the open house, and I didn’t want to leave here until we checked on the cabins.”
“I really appreciate that, Quinn.” She unlocked the door to the first cabin, but stepped back and motioned for him to go in first. “Just in case that mouse is still here.”
“That mouse and his twenty-seven brothers.”
She shuddered. “I can’t even go there.”
He laughed at the goofy face she made and entered the darkened cabin, flipping on lights as he went through the rooms. The place smelled mustier than he remembered, but given this rain and the heavy air, that was to be expected. Together, they walked through to the back of the house.
“Oh, wow … Look out here.” She opened the back door and stepped onto the little stoop that overlooked what had been a mostly dry creek only yesterday. Now, muddy brown water flowed through in a steady stream.
The stoop was open, barely covered by the narrow eaves, so he stood behind her, just inside the door, looking over her shoulder. “Looks like you’re getting that waterfront property after all.”
“I just hope we don’t get houseboats!” She looked genuinely concerned.
“The water still has a ways to go before it reaches the walls. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” These rock walls were likely built to afford some protection from flooding, but they were crumbling in places now, and Quinn doubted they would hold if the water actually rose that high. Of course, he wasn’t about to tell Phylicia that. And unless the rain kept up for days, the chances of the tributary suddenly flooding its banks were pretty slim. But he was a little surprised how close to the banks these cabins had been built.
Phylicia turned to come back inside, and he took a couple of steps backward to let her pass. She smelled faintly of baby powder and something citrusy, and her nearness was disconcerting in a most pleasant way.
“I’ll check the back bedroom for leaks, but so far, so good.”
She didn’t reply, but started opening cupboards and closets, cautiously peering inside as if she expected a mouse to jump out at her at any moment.
Assured this cabin was weathering the rain well, they ran to the other one and repeated the check.
“Uh-oh,” Phylicia called from the kitchen.
He stepped into the small room to see her pointing at the ceiling above the stove. He flipped on the light under the stove’s vent, but the bulb was burned out. Using his phone’s flashlight, he located the water spot on the ceiling. He climbed up onto the counter and wiggled a stained tile. “I’m going to pop this out and see if I can figure out where the water’s coming in.”
“Do what you need to. I don’t know anything about it. Shall I run and get something for the water to drip into?”
“That would be good. A plastic tub, or the biggest cooking pot you have should keep it contained overnight. You might want to empty it before you go to bed. Just to be sure.”
“I’ll let my sisters do that when they get home.” She gave a little laugh and headed for the front door. It slammed behind her, and a few minutes later she appeared with two empty plastic ice-cream pails and a roll of paper towels in hand.
“T
hat’ll work.” He placed one of the containers on the stove and made sure it was situated to catch the drips. “The ceiling tiles will need replacing, but I’ll leave this one on the counter just in case.”
Together they mopped up the rainwater that had splashed onto the old floors, then checked the rest of the rooms, relieved when they appeared to be leak-free.
“You’re going to want to get that roof fixed as soon as possible. You want to save these wood floors, and even if you’re not planning to keep the ceiling, you don’t want to let the sub-roof get soggy. Not to mention moldy.”
She sighed. “I guess we have to start in sometime. We figured new roofs for these two houses into the budget, but it’s going to take a huge chunk of it.”
“Assuming you still want Langhorne Construction to do the work, we can get you scheduled. And hopefully get started as soon as it stops raining.”
“I’ll talk to my sisters, but I’m sure they’ll say yes. It needs to be done.” She looked up at him. “I must admit, it’s kind of exciting to actually be diving in. I’m even getting kind of pumped about having guests in the cabins.”
“That’s when the investment will really start to pay off. Your dad gave you quite a gift when he found this property—”
“And coerced you to push it off on us.” There wasn’t a trace of antagonism in her voice.
“The man can be persuasive.”
“Oh, don’t I know it.”
“I wouldn’t be too critical. I happen to know that at least one of his daughters takes after him in that regard.”
A wry smile came to her face. “I’m sure you’re not talking about moi.”
“Especially you.” The minute the words left his mouth, he realized the subject of what traits she’d inherited from her father could be dangerous territory. It almost felt as if he’d just told her a calculated lie. He wanted to throttle Turner for saddling him with all the disturbing secrets he had. Even if they weren’t true, even the possibility would devastate Phylicia when she found out. If she found out.
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