In Service of Love

by Laurel Greer

  “Quiet?” Asher asked, sounding confused.

  Groaning, she dropped her head back on the couch. “I’m so sorry. That was meant to be silent, and for Lachlan.”

  “Sounds like he’s doing a solid pester job. Impressive.”

  “Sure.” She sighed. “Good grief, you’re going to think we’re nuts. And here I was calling to offer you the job.”

  “You decided not to because your brother’s a pest?” he asked, chuckling a little.

  “No. I’m worried you’re going to want to steer clear of our family dysfunction.”

  “Actual dysfunction, or the kind where you blame your siblings for all life’s evils but would lay down in the road for them?” he asked, tone thoughtful.

  “The latter.”

  “Then sign me up.”

  “To...be harassed by my brother?”

  He chuckled. “No, to build you some cabinets.”

  “Right. Cabinets.” Agh, way to sound intelligent.

  “Whatever you need, really.”

  What she needed was her sense back. “Oh?”

  “Flooring, moldings, baseboards—I can do those, too, so long as you have the measurements.”

  Not quite the need that first came to mind. “Quite a skill range.”

  “You bet.”

  Was that suggestion in his voice? What had she been thinking? She’d so teed him up. But he hadn’t had to take the shot... Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe she was hearing things.

  Either way, her chest was getting warm, and that was not okay.

  “Uh, Maggie?” Whatever she’d detected in his tone was long gone, replaced by wariness.

  “Yes! Right here. Sorry. I—I’m not myself today for some reason.” Lachlan snorted, and she glared at him. “We have most of the materials purchased, and the tools, too. What’s your hourly rate? ”

  He named a price that sounded fair to her, then said, “I have some of my own tools. Brought them with me when I moved, figuring I’d need to do home repairs now and again. When do you need the work completed?”

  “Lachlan’s going to start working classes out of there next month.”

  Asher whistled. “Doable, I’m sure, but depending on how much needs to be done, and given I’m working with limited hours, I’ll want to get to it right away. You’re going to be okay with me having to work in spurts?”

  “If it means I get Jackson trained up and Lachlan gets more time with his family, you can work at three in the morning for all I care.”

  He chuckled. “When’s your first appointment tomorrow morning?”

  “I start at nine on Mondays. And Lach will want to be there, too, of course.”

  “Naturally. How about I rip by after I drop Ruth at school?” he suggested. “That’ll give us twenty minutes, enough time for me to get an idea of what needs doing. And then if I need to pick anything up at the building supply store, I can do it in Bozeman on Tuesday while Ruth’s at Hebrew school.”

  Asher Matsuda, bright and early on a Monday morning? Something fluttered in her stomach. Not butterflies—talk about ridiculous. A crane fly, maybe? Ew. Crane flies were gross. Okay, fine. It was a butterfly. One solitary butterfly. “Tomorrow. Sure. See you then.”

  “Absolutely. I’m looking forward to it, Maggie.”

  The connection cut, and she stared at her phone. Gah. He’d used that tone again. The one that promised he could do more than shelve library books and build cabinets with those big hands of his. She’d noticed his hands this afternoon. His rings had caught her eye. Silver bands around his left middle finger and right ring finger, and a gold one around his right thumb... So freaking attractive...

  Aaaaaand the warmth in her chest was back.

  Fan-tastic.

  Lachlan sat down next to her, still cradling the baby to his front. He smirked. “I know that face, Mags. I wore that face all summer.”

  “You still wear a face. But given I’m not interested in seeing anyone, it’s not one you’ll find on me.”

  “Not wanting to date and wanting to mess around can coexist.”

  The skin of her arms prickled at the truth of that, and she scratched both at the same time. “Then all you wanted to do with Marisol was mess around?”

  “No, but—”

  “So how can it be the same face, then?”

  Lachlan grinned. “I know you’re trying to reason your way out of a corner here, but all you did was pen yourself into agreeing that you want to get busy with Asher Matsuda.”

  “I—”

  “Ding, ding, ding, the round goes to me.” He stood and headed for the hallway. “It happens so rarely, Maggie. Let me have this one.”

  The prickles spread across her chest. “But I—”

  “I’m going to go savor my sweet victory by napping with my fiancée. Lock the door when you leave.”

  “Lachlan, you—you—you’re the worst!”

  His laugh faded with the click of his bedroom door.

  Picking up a throw pillow, she pressed it to her face and yelled incoherently into the thick cotton. Whether or not she wanted to get busy with Asher was moot.

  He wasn’t just passing through town, looking for a short fling like the men she usually dated. He was looking to establish roots—he was a father, for heaven’s sake. And he believed he’d find someone to be happy with again.

  For his sake, she hoped he did.

  But goodness knew, she never had. And never would.

  Chapter Three

  A fresh twinge of disappointment flickered in Asher’s chest as he sat behind the circulation desk of the currently empty library, rereading the text Maggie had sent him before he’d even managed to put on pants this morning.

  Maggie: I’m so sorry I can’t make it. Assisting with a sticky foal delivery. Up all night. Lach will be there.

  He’d met Lachlan alone, and had to admit he’d been sulking for the first couple hours of his Monday shift. Not even working on children’s programming helped brighten his mood. He’d figured he could help bridge his way into the community with a few cultural days personal to him. He’d been planning a Tsukimi grass craft that Ruth loved making with his dad for October’s full moon, and a day featuring different religious food practices. But this morning, he kept getting distracted. His no worries reply to Maggie had only garnered a Thx in response, and he hadn’t heard from her since. She’d be working, so it wasn’t like she would have time, but he still wished for more.

  Wishes I shouldn’t be having anyway. How could he possibly be interested in someone less than two years after losing Alex? Not to mention the look Ruth had given him when she’d accused him of staring at Maggie. His daughter’s suspicion was still fresh in his mind. Even if he was starting to feel ready to reenter the dating world, it didn’t seem like she approved.

  And yet... He’d sure as hell enjoyed springing out of bed before his alarm went off, before he’d found out Maggie wouldn’t be able to meet him. Someone had related mourning to the seasons, to a long winter followed by spring. It had seemed an overly trite simile to him at the time, but he could appreciate it a little more now. Coming alive again, regrowth—it rang true. It was refreshing not to have what he’d lost on his mind every moment of the day.

  Guilt struck him, and he took a breath. It’s okay to move forward. Necessary, in fact. Alex had insisted on it. Stage-four lymphoma had been the literal worst in a myriad of ways, but he was grateful as anything for having time with his husband to discuss the future. Alex had hated the idea of Asher being alone, and had insisted that Asher fall in love again when the time was right.

  Something to worry about for another day. Right now, he had a daughter to raise and a library to run and a whackload of indoor construction to complete. His meeting with Lachlan, an easygoing guy who shared Maggie’s passion for dog training, had gone well. Asher had confirmed h
e’d have time to build cabinets in Lachlan’s office and the classroom, as well as install laminate flooring everywhere except the indoor, cement training ring.

  Lachlan had apologized for his sister’s absence, too, explaining that living in a rural area, a veterinarian’s life wasn’t always predictable. Asher had seen that with his twin, though David’s urban clinic didn’t involve large animals. Maggie’s didn’t, either, according to her brother, but the horse owner in question was a friend of Maggie’s, so she’d gone for moral support and to pitch in if the equine vet needed help.

  The clock on Asher’s records computer read 11:46 a.m. Surely she’d be done by now. She’d probably be bagged.

  Hmm. The library closed for an hour for his lunch on Mondays and Tuesdays; he was the only librarian on staff those days. He could go grab a coffee for Maggie, take it to her at her clinic. Would that be too forward? He didn’t want to give her the impression he was looking for anything beyond friendship. But he also really liked her company, and the letdown of not getting to see her this morning...

  Given there weren’t any patrons at the moment, he pulled up his future sister-in-law’s text window on his cell. Garnet was honest to a fault. She also seemed to know Maggie well, so would tell him if this was a terrible idea.

  On the scale of “totally platonic” to “I want you to have my babies,” where does taking a woman an unsolicited coffee fall?

  He sent the message before he lost his nerve.

  Three dots floated on the screen for a few seconds before her reply appeared.

  Left field, much?

  Fair point, he typed before adding, but it doesn’t answer my question.

  An alert window popped up over his thread with Garnet.

  Caleb: You’re taking a woman a coffee? Who?

  He groaned. He’d assumed his brother would be at work. He tapped Caleb’s text and replied:

  Piss off, I’m talking to your better half.

  By the time he was done sending that, a new message was waiting for him.

  Garnet: Depends on the where and why, I guess, but I don’t think a coffee is the same as a wedding ring. You’re probably safe.

  Asher: I’ll take probably as definitely. Thanks. And tell C to stop being nosy. He’ll know what’s going on in my life when there’s something that needs knowing.

  Slipping his phone into his jeans pocket—the dress code at the branch was pretty casual and let him get away with nice denim—he worked another ten minutes, then locked up and hoofed it the couple of blocks to Peak Beans, one of the shops overlooking the grassy town square.

  Sutter Creek’s architecture and landscaping couldn’t be more different than the brownstones and street-level shops he’d grown up with in Brooklyn. The streets around the square were pedestrian-only. With the summer tourist season over, the raised, wood-planked sidewalks were only scattered with a few people. The buildings were mainly wood faced, too, other than the brick-fronted bank. And the mash-up of old-school-Western and European-ski-town aesthetics was like a Pinterest board that couldn’t make up its mind. It was charming, though. And in time, spending a Sunday taking Ruth to the Australian pie place and walking along the creek would feel just as much like home as sharing a mushroom pizza before biking through Prospect Park.

  He took his place in line and checked his phone again.

  Caleb: Seriously, is there something that needs knowing?

  He replied with a no, then sent Garnet another text.

  You used to work at the coffee shop in the square, right? Happen to remember what Maggie drinks?

  Garnet’s and Caleb’s identical texts arrived on top of each other. Maggie Reid?

  Oh, crap. He’d never hear the end of this. He only acknowledged Garnet’s.

  She seems like a tea kind of woman, but I’m not sure.

  Garnet: Maggie drinks double-shot skim lattes. And doesn’t do relationships. So I really hope you’re operating on the platonic end of that scale you mentioned.

  He exhaled, a wave of something way too close to frustration washing over him. He should have been happy to get that news. All he could have with Maggie was friendship for the near future, so there was no point in considering something more.

  He typed a quick reply to Garnet.

  100% friends-only.

  And only a small part of him felt like he was lying.

  * * *

  Thank goodness for the love seat tucked into the corner of the staff room, because sitting in an actual chair seemed like an impossible feat at the moment. Maggie let her eyes fall shut, cursing the mere two hours of sleep she’d managed last night before getting called out to her best friend Emma’s family ranch to help out with an insanely difficult birth of a foal.

  Not birth. Death. Her eyes stung, hot and sharp. She pressed the heels of her hands against her lids. She’d mainly gone for Emma’s sake, though once things got hairy the equine vet had appreciated the second set of hands.

  Maggie didn’t usually get upset to the point of tears over a lost animal, but Emma and her mom had both fallen apart, and in her exhaustion, Maggie had, too. And for whatever reason, was having trouble putting herself back together.

  Having a dog-sitting foal was super rare, enough that Maggie had only read about it in journal articles. The other vet had been compassionate but pragmatic—there wasn’t anything that could have prevented it from happening, nor allowed for a live birth.

  We saved the mare. At least we managed that. But it didn’t seem like enough, not for Emma and her mom, who loved their animals like family. Maggie would have done anything to be able to help deliver a live foal.

  “Frick, why?” she complained to the empty room.

  “Good question.”

  The male voice, not her brother’s or her receptionist’s, made her jump enough that her butt left the couch for a second. She dropped her hands from her eyes and turned to the intruder.

  Asher Matsuda’s big frame filled the doorway. He had on jeans and yet another pair of super sexy boots. He’d pushed up the sleeves of his thin, striped sweater, revealing his strong forearms. He held a to-go coffee cup in each hand. His apologetic smile eased the warning bells clanging in her chest. “I’m sorry. I should have been louder, avoided startling you. Your receptionist directed me back here. Well, first he invited me to join the local LGBTQ+ rock climbing club—he and his boyfriend apparently run it? Might take him up on that after I finish this job for you and your brother. Ruth isn’t the only one who needs to get out of the house... Anyway, my agreement seemed to be the magic ticket, because he waved me in your direction. And now I’ve totally talked your ear off. Just what you needed.” He walked into the room, gaze darting between the empty seat beside her and the kitchen table and chairs centering the space. “Can I sit?”

  “Sure,” she said. Not like he was going to plunk down next to her when there were six perfectly good chairs—

  He strode the last few steps and settled onto the empty love seat cushion. Her own cushion tilted from the shift in weight. She had to right herself to avoid touching shoulders with him.

  But she wasn’t going to be rude and ask him to move, not when he was so kindly holding out one of the disposable cups to her.

  “I checked with Garnet to see what you drank,” he said.

  “You did?” Crumbs, that was going to require some explanation. She took the beverage and held it with both hands. The warmth cut through the chill of her skin. She shivered. Adrenaline letdown always dragged on longer for her than it did most people. Happened with work emergencies and her search and rescue volunteering.

  “Figured you needed some caffeine, and I didn’t want to get you the wrong thing,” he explained.

  “That was nice of you,” she said lamely.

  He lifted a shoulder. “Your brother mentioned you had a rough night. Night and morning.”

 
; A lump formed in her throat. “How did the walk-through go?”

  “Fine.” Worry marked his dark brown eyes. “You don’t look fine, though.”

  She bit her lip. “Sorry. I don’t usually get this upset about work. But with the horse being my best friend’s... Hard not to feel that I failed her. Silly, really—I’m not even an equine vet, nor was I in charge.”

  “Lachlan mentioned this particular scenario involved a whole lot of unpleasantness.”

  “I—yeah. Not exactly fun. Way too many saws involved to inflict the grim details on laypeople.”

  He switched his drink from his right to his left hand and reached for her leg, but pulled back at the last second and settled his big palm on his own knee. “Between my parents and Caleb being doctors and Dave’s veterinary practice, it’s a rare family dinner that doesn’t involve some crazy medical case. Not much fazes me, Maggie.”

  Bemusement tugged the corners of his mouth up.

  Oh, sweet baby jellybeans. That smile could melt a glacier, let alone an under-slept woman with way too much of a soft spot for thick-rimmed glasses and running her fingers through beards...

  “My parents have always given Lachlan a hard time for not accumulating as many degrees as Stella and me,” she explained. “Were your parents the same?”

  “Not at all,” he said. “They cheered just as loudly from the front row when my band played as they did at Caleb’s and Dave’s convocations. Sure, my mom’s a big fan of me being a librarian now, but that’s mainly because she loves books. And after Alex’s first bout with cancer, she wanted me to have a more reliable paycheck.”

  “Was Alex—” She coughed, trying to remove the lump that had been half clogging her throat since she left RG Ranch. None of the questions that came to mind were any of her business. “Never mind.”

  “It’s okay.” His voice cracked a little. “The more people who know who Alex was, the more there is of him still in the world.”

  “Asher...”

  “What am I saying, though? You’ve dealt with death enough today.”