Page 8 of Homecoming

Grace snorted, and all three men looked at her. Oh, hell. That was a lot of hard masculinity turned her way. “Hi. I’m Grace Lane,” she said, holding her hand out to the other two men.

Flannel guy shook it. “Doc.”

But the second guy wouldn’t take her hand. And no one supplied his name. She folded her hands together self-consciously. “He’s talking about the Nunnehi. It’s a Cherokee folklore that little people, the fey, live in these mountains. Sometimes they protect hikers, other times they lead them to their doom.”

The three men didn’t laugh in her face, but they did exchange looks.

“The Cherokee have been here for hundreds of years, and even I’ll admit there have been some strange things happen to people in the area.” She shrugged lightly. “That’s why he wanted to get out of here. My crazy aunt says it’s a hotspot for woo woo stuff.”

Tired of them just staring at her, she circled around them to head inside.

“Oh, my gosh,” she breathed.

The cabin welcomed you with a huge, vaulted ceiling, bigger than she’d expected from the rendering. The logs were flat inside and stained a warm honey blond. The living room was bigger than she’d expected, and there were several massive windows to let in the light. A huge natural stone fireplace blazed on the far wall, and she could already envision where everything she’d brought would go. The plastic wrapped furniture was set, but not positioned. She would take care of that after she dropped the rugs on the hardwood floor.

Grace moved toward the back of the cabin. The kitchen looked out onto this space, with no walls to break it up. It was a beautiful, open-concept design, and it was stunning. “Whoever moves in here is going to love this,” she said softly, sensing that Owen was behind her.

The man put her on edge. There was something about his probing, thoughtful gaze. She knew she could be a lot, but helooked at her like she was a bug sometimes. It was very strange. He’d sent her a lot of business, though, so she was willing to put up with some strangeness. And he was being protective of the men here. All attributes to be admired.

Grace had a problem with curiosity, though. Someday, it would probably be her downfall. She’d proclaimed not to be like the busybodies at the cafe downtown, but she liked a good piece of gossip as much as the next girl. She just knew when not to spread the gossip.

She was so curious about the family moving in, though. Owen had told her it was a younger couple with a small baby girl. And that was it.

“Does the woman like to cook? I have a few pans and utensils, but I didn’t get everything.”

She glanced up at him, and was hit again by his harsh good looks. The man reminded her of a Roman gladiator, with his thick, curly, almost black hair, dark brows and a strong, Roman nose. His cheeks and jaw were covered with a short dark beard, like he’d forgotten to shave for a couple of weeks. Or maybe only a week. She had no idea how quickly a man’s beard grew. It seemed like it would be long enough for her to run her fingers through.

Or leave some nice beard-burn on her thighs…

He wore an army green henley with a black flannel, and a heavy winter coat over top. Worn, stained jeans wrapped around muscular looking thighs, and his boots looked more than broken in. They just looked broken, she thought, smiling slightly. Were they even waterproof anymore?

Grace spun away from him, looking desperately at the kitchen. She crossed to the cupboards and looked inside. Yup, not a thing in there.

Focus, Grace.

“So, I brought some basics, but they’re going to need a lot more.”

Owen heaved a sigh. “I don’t think they’re picky about what they get, but it has to be festive. This is their little girl’s first Christmas, and Angela wants it to be memorable.”

Grace spun around. “Wait, what? Her first Christmas? You never told me that. I have nothing festive, just basic household stuff.” She looked out at the space. “They’re going to need a tree and lights and everything. They’re coming in tomorrow?”

He nodded, crossing his arms over his thick chest. “We planned on getting a tree from the forest.”

She cocked her head at him. “Okay, that’s great. You have a stand and base for the live tree, then? So it doesn’t dry out and become a fire hazard? And decorations?”

“No,” he admitted, voice low. He glanced around the space, brows furrowed. “I’ll be honest, it was a surprise they were coming down now. I thought they were going to wait until spring. This cabin is the furthest along, but only because we’ve all been working on it around the clock.”

“Well, you have a little more work to do,” she said, grinning at him. “Let’s get moving. Then you’ll have to run me down the mountain for the finishing touches.”

The three men unloaded Owen’s truck while Grace started unwrapping furniture. The pieces she’d ordered were comfortable and well-built, and they should last a long time. The fabric was also stain-resistant, perfect in a house with a baby.

She would have to scrounge for the holiday decorations. There wasn’t enough time to drive into Asheville, almost two hours away, to do a complete stock up. She would have to improvise. Maybe Jazz…

She directed the men where things went and gave them trash to take outside to burn or do whatever they did with it. Then she went from room to room, positioning items and making a list ofanything she forgot. By the time she was done, the house looked more like a home.

But it needed more.

Owen had disappeared, but the two men who had been helping were sitting in colorful chairs on the front porch. The more personable flannel guy, Doc, looked up when she stepped outside.

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