Page 74 of Trip Me Up

Niall wrapped the sandwiches in waxed paper. “Really, I want to do chores. I promised Sam she could help, too.”

Jerry’s sharp gaze landed on my hands, and his weathered face wrinkled into a smirk. I curled my fingers into my palms. No, I didn’t have calluses from holding a shovel or a pitchfork or whatever, but I could work. I narrowed my eyes at him.

Niall missed it all. “Ready for our tour, Sam?”

“Mind if I use your bathroom first?”

“We can hit the outhouse as the first stop on our tour.”

I blinked.Outhouse?

“Don’t tease her like that.” Elaine swatted his arm. “Right this way, Sam.”

Elaine led me back to the entryway and pointed to the end of the hall. “Straight ahead. It may be a bit rustic, but we do have indoor plumbing.”

As I washed my hands at the vintage pink pedestal sink, I glanced into the mirror. My freckles stood out against my pale cheeks. What had I done? Getting closer to Niall would make me miss him when we went our separate ways at the end of the tour. If the truth came out before then, I’d have to watch while the sparkle left his eyes and his stare went flat and cold. It’d snap my heart in two.

And what was up with Niall’s grandfather? He’d looked wary almost from the moment I’d walked in. What did he suspect?

I dried my hands on the embroidered towel and returned to the kitchen, my boots making the floorboards creak. When I stepped through the doorway, Niall whispered something to his mother, and she patted his red-stubbled cheek. A tote bag hung off one shoulder, and he had a couple blankets folded under his other arm.

“It’s a good day for it. Should get up into the sixties,” Elaine said. “You two have fun.”

“Don’t get lost. And watch out for bears,” Jerry called from behind his newspaper.

“Grandpa! Don’t try to scare off Sam.” Niall shouldered a backpack and held out his hand to me.

“We won’t really get lost, will we?” I murmured as he led me to the side door.

“Not a chance. But I used that excuse a lot when I was younger to explain why I was late.”

“And the bears?”

“Not too many in these parts, and most of them are hibernating this time of year.”

Bilbo Baggins leaped down the porch steps and ran ahead of us toward the woods.

“Bilbo Baggins!” I shouted. “Come back!” His yaps could wake up a bear. Or draw the attention of a hungry coyote.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll follow him. And Thorin will keep him in line.”

A shaggy black beast, more Chupacabra than dog, bounded toward Bilbo Baggins. He woofed once, making my dog freeze.

“He’s safe, right?” It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d had to rescue over-friendly Bilbo Baggins from a bigger, meaner dog. I hurried toward them.

“He’s a creampuff.”

Sure enough, Thorin approached Bilbo Baggins, circled him, sniffing, and then crouched, his rear end in the air. Bilbo Baggins sneezed and sat.

When Thorin leaped up and galloped toward us, Bilbo Baggins followed at a sprint.

At Niall’s raised finger, Thorin pulled up short and sat, panting, his body quivering. Bilbo Baggins, after a questioning bark, slowly sank down at his side.

“Good boy.” Niall closed the distance and scratched Thorin behind his short, floppy ears. “Want to pet him?”

The dog’s teeth were visible as he panted, the top canines as long as the end joint of my finger. I hesitated.

“Don’t you trust me?” Niall put his hands on his hips.

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