Page 25 of Grumpy on the Mountain
I park and grab the suitcase, keys in my pocket like an afterthought.
My plan is simple: drop off her belongings, nod politely, and get the hell back up my mountain before I do something stupid.
Like notice how the sunlight catches in her hair. Or how her cheeks flush pink in the cold.
The front door flies open before I even reach the walkway.
"BEAU!" Maisie comes tearing out, snow boots unlaced and coat unbuttoned, a streak of pure chaotic energy. "YOU BROUGHT AUNT MOLLY'S TREASURE CHEST!"
I set the suitcase down just in time to brace myself as Maisie collides with my legs.
"It's a suitcase, squirt. Not treasure."
Though given how Molly's face lights up at the sight of it, you'd think it contained gold instead of clothes.
"Beau," Sienna greets me with a smile that immediately makes me want to retreat inside my truck and throw the keys out the window. "Perfect timing."
Molly steps forward, arms wrapped around herself against the cold. "Thanks for bringing my stuff. I really appreciate it."
She sounds genuinely grateful, which makes it harder to maintain my necessary emotional distance.
So I just grunt and hold out her keys.
"Thanks. If you didn't guess, Johnson Auto finally called," she continues, taking them. "They can look at my car today."
"Good."
I turn to head back to my truck. Mission accomplished.
"Oh!" Sienna suddenly exclaims with all the subtlety of a grenade. "I just remembered I have that... thing. At the... place. Maisie, we need to go!"
Maisie looks confused. "What thing?"
"Thatimportantthing," Sienna insists, her eyes darting between me and Molly with matchmaking intent so obvious a blind man could see it. "The very important thing that means we need to leave right now."
"But I want to show Beau my new pictures!"
"Later, honey. Beau needs to help Aunt Molly with the fence."
I narrow my eyes at Sienna. "I do?"
"You absolutely do. It collapsed in the storm, and Molly was just saying how she has no idea how to fix it. Weren't you, Molly?"
Molly blinks. "I mean, I don't, but—"
"Perfect! Beau knows all about fences. I've got tools in the garage. Maisie, coat. Now."
Before I can protest, Sienna has ushered Maisie back inside, reappearing seconds later with her purse and a child who is now properly bundled.
"We'll be back in an hour. Maybe two. No rush!" she calls over her shoulder, practically shoving Maisie into her car. "The tools are exactly where they always are, Beau!"
And just like that, they're gone, leaving me standing in the yard with Molly and a broken fence that absolutely could have waited another day.
I glance at her and she glances at me.
"You don't have to stay," she says finally. "It's not an emergency."
I should leave. I know I should. But something in the slump of her shoulders, the tired resignation in her voice, keeps my boots planted.
