Page 49 of A Marriage Pact for the Cowboy

“I beg to differ.” Maxwell reached across and covered her hand with his.

She stared at it for a moment before turning hers to twine her fingers around his.

Success! “You’ve got vision, which is more than our previous manager had.”

“Am I taking someone else’s job?” Eryn frowned.

Maxwell tried to remember who had even run the shop last year. Failed, but then, he hadn’t hung around the lodge much. He and his crew had been working flat out on Firefly Lane back then, where the previous owners had begun renovations before running out of money, leaving the cottages uninhabitable.

“Tate just won’t post that position with the others when he hires for next summer. The previous manager was probably a college student who might not even reapply. Because we have mostly seasonal work, we get a lot of students. A lot of staff turnover.”

“That makes sense.”

He squeezed her fingers gently. “Don’t worry about it. That person obviously wasn’t suited to the position. You are, and it will flourish.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I know so.”

“You can’t possibly be as certain as you sound.”

“Why not? I’ve been watching you.” He laughed. “That sounds creepy. But I’ve seen how excited this makes you, I’ve seen your hard work. I know making all those calls wasn’t easy for you, but you did it, and the artisans are happy to meet with you. I’d say you’re well on your way with that kiosk of Kaya’s. I love the idea of using the half-canoe as a display for her traditional pieces. It will get a lot of attention. Where in the store are you thinking?”

“Didn’t I show you the sketch I made of the room? It will need adjusting as I get confirmation from artisans and see how much space each will need. Like the half-canoe can’t be in the middle, since it’s so tall. I was thinking beside the entry-hall window.”

“Hmm. That could work.” Maxwell nodded. “And no, I didn’t see a sketch. I can’t wait to, though.” Then he could mock it up on his CAD program. That would be fun. “The candy maker is next, right? She’s in Missoula?”

Eryn nodded. “And then the stained-glass artist at 1:00 in Jewel Lake, the jeweler at 2:00, the leather crafter at 3:00, and the potter at 4:00. There’s also a blacksmith who fashions wrought-iron pieces, but his voicemail says he’s away in October. I’ll have to follow up with him later.”

“Wow. I can see it all already. What a cool showcase of local talent.” Maxwell merged onto I-90 eastbound. “Have you had a chance to work on the quilt design?”

She wrinkled her nose. “It won’t be half as impressive as all that other stuff, so I probably won’t bother.”

“Hey. Don’t shortchange yourself.”

“I’m not. I know I’m not that good.”

“Not that you’ve let me see any of your work to judge for myself.”

“It’s all packed away. I doubt I’ll open any of it until we move into the farmhouse next month.”

“I get that.” He did. But it seemed like she was stalling, her lack of confidence in herself roaring to the forefront again. Should he push her? Maybe not today. She was putting herself out there on behalf of the gift shop — on behalf of Sweet River Ranch — and that was likely usurping all the peopling capacity she had for right now.

Maxwell might not be an introvert, but he’d done some reading to try to understand how those like Graham and Weston and Jude functioned. It was a mystery to someone who thrived on the buzz of people and action, but hey, God hadn’t created only one sort of personality. How boring would that be?

Though he’d never expected to be this drawn to someone his polar opposite. Eryn had so many layers that it could be a lifelong project to understand what made her tick. Most everything Maxwell tackled was in bite-sized pieces where he could check details off his to-do list every single day. Progress could be charted. Was charted, so that the members of his team could see at a glance the status of each of the cottages on Ladybug Lane. His crew was staggered through several at a time, with utilities being worked on in one, cabinetry in another, painting and tiling in a third, and flooring in another. Thankfully, the vinyl planks had finally shown up Friday, so Jordan and Tory were installing them this week in #4.

“…candy maker.”

Maxwell gave his head a shake. “Sorry. I was plotting my own crew’s work week. What about the candy maker?” He couldn’t believe his mind had drifted to work while he was out with Eryn. How pathetic was that?

“Nothing, I was just thinking out loud.”

“I want to hear.”

She shook her head and turned to look out the window.

Drat. If only he could barricade his brain. “What kind of candy are we talking? Fudge? Peanut brittle?”

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