Page 21 of Finding Home

With her fingers brushing over the carving in the tree, she murmurs, “Seems like there’s a lot of memories in this place for you, huh?”

My chest tightens. It’s an understatement. Being here is like visiting a ghost of my prior self: a younger version of Caleb Baumgarten who loved coming here to escape and forget about the stress caused by my turbulent father back home. “Yeah, lots of memories,” I mutter vaguely. I shift my backpack and clear my throat. “Come on, babysitter. You need to pee, right?” I stride away from the tree without looking back. “We’ll go in through the back door. We’ve probably got mud on our shoes now.”

“Love the rustic vibe,” Aubrey murmurs, looking around the living room. She motions toward the ceiling. “Those exposed beams are gorgeous.”

“They’re new from when I was here last.”

She motions across the room. “Love that stone fireplace, too.”

“When I was a little kid, we used to make s’mores in that fireplace.”

“Ooooh, we should do that with Raine.”

Raine.My heart rate quickens at the mention of my daughter’s name. I can’t believe her little feet are going to pad across the same wooden planks my own two-year-old feet traversed thirty-plus years ago. “Great idea. Before we pick her up tomorrow, let’s stop by the grocery store for supplies.”

For the first time since our eyes connected over that wooden fence, Aubrey looks semi-tolerant of me. At least, she doesn’t look nearly as much like she wants to slide her hands around my neck andsqueeze.

“Should we take a look around the place?” I ask.

“Let’s do it.”

We wander through the house and confirm my grandfather did, indeed, add a third bedroom on the west side, as well as all new windows and several upgrades to the cabin’s only bathroom.

“Do you have any thoughts, in terms of upgrades and fixes?” I ask, as we return to the living room.

“It depends on what you plan to do with the place. If you want to spend the money to make this place your own personal haven, you’d probably want to do more than if you’re aiming to turn a maximum profit on a sale, you know?”

I look around, my mind buffering. If I wind up withfull custody of Raine, I’d likely want to keep this place, so I can bring my daughter here, now and again, the same way I used to come as a kid. If Idon’tget custody of Raine, however, I’m certain my sister will want to sell the place and split the proceeds, since she’s never liked coming here, anyway. If that scenario faces me, I think it’s possible coming here will feel too painful for me to fight my sister’s wishes on the matter.

“Not sure yet,” I say vaguely, averting my eyes from Aubrey. The last thing I want her detecting is my present state of uncertainty about the outcome of the custody hearing. I’m mostly confident and determined, but I’m a bit out of my depths here, frankly; but, of course, I want Aubrey thinking I’ve got this situation completely under control.

Aubrey says, “I think you should figure out your intentions for the place before you do too much to it. Either way, I’d recommend replacing the rotting deck for safety reasons. Later, if you decide to keep the place, I’d also upgrade the kitchen and add a second bathroom.”

It’s the same list I came up with during our short tour, other than adding the second bathroom. I can’t argue with that additional idea, however, now that Aubrey’s raised it. If this place becomes a vacation home for my growing daughter and me, I’m sure Raine would appreciate her own bathroom, as she gets older, so she doesn’t have to share one with her old man.

“I think I’ll take on the deck by myself, while we’re staying here,” I say. “And figure out the rest after the custody hearing.”

“As long as you’re going to rebuild the deck, can I suggest a whole new design for it?”

I ask her what she’s got in mind, and Aubrey holds up a palm and uses her index finger to visually explainwhat she means. By the time she’s done walking me through it, I’m thoroughly impressed and sold on the idea. In fact, it feels like a no-brainer to follow Aubrey’s vision to a T.

“You’re good at this,” I say.

Aubrey blushes. “I worked every summer for my dad in high school. I guess I learned a thing or two.”

“Clearly.” I flash her a small smile, but she doesn’t return the gesture.Again.With a sigh, I add, “Okay, thanks. I’ll get the lumber tomorrow and get started.”

“I know my dad is presently out of commission, but I’m sure he could wrangle a small crew to help you finish the deck as quickly as possible.”

I shake my head. “Getting the project done quickly isn’t the goal. I like working with my hands and feeling pride in a job well done. I’ll take your dad’s supervision and advice, though.”

The slightest hint of a smile plays at Aubrey’s lips. “My father is the exact same way, and I learned it from him. We both take pride in a job well done, too.”

I try my damnedest not to smile at her again, since my prior attempts at warming things up between us haven’t been well received. But it’s hard not to smile with my eyes, at least. Aubrey’s so damned cute and sexy, all rolled into one. Also, so damnedlikeable,even though she obviously can’t stand me. “If I decide to go forward with the other projects you suggested,” I say, “I’ll hire your father to do them, whenever he’s feeling up to it.”

Aubrey’s cheeks visibly bloom. “Really? Thank you. I know my father would appreciate that. By the time he’s cleared to work, he’ll be in a pretty deep hole, financially. Don’t tell him I told you that. But it’s the truth, unfortunately.”

My stomach tightens at the worried look on her prettyface. I noticed Aubrey looking the same way earlier at dinner, when her mother said she’d turned down the festival committee’s offer to send financial assistance the Capshaws’ way.

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