Page 14 of Love in Mission City
Down, boy.
Just because I had visions of peeling him out of those jeans in front of the fire didn’t mean he felt the same way. I grabbed the bag with the drinks and cookies and got out of the pickup.
Zeus catapulted over me and made a beeline straight for my host.
My boy circled Henry continuously and yapped joyfully.
Henry cocked his head, as if not certain how to take this enthusiasm.
“He’s happy to see you.” I held out my bag. “Cider and fresh-baked cookies.”
“You didn’t have to.” His brow furrowed.
“Ah, I know I didn’t. But I wanted to, so I did.”
“Okay.” He took the bag. “Do you want to see my workshop?”
“Of course.” I eyed Zeus. “Is it okay if he comes too? Or I can close him in a room and—”
“No.” The word nearly exploded from Henry. “Never close him away. He can…everything’s safe.”
I eyed my happy boy’s tail, hoped Henry was right, and indicated the big man should show us the way.
He held my gaze for one long moment before leading me around the house.
Envisioning the place covered in a blanket of snow brought a smile to my lips. The orchard in the snow was a magical location as well, but this place? Something extra special about the cabin-in-the-woods image.
Henry led me to a small shed.
A hydro cable led from the house, so obviously the workshop had electricity. I wasn’t certain why, but I’d questioned if this place even had power. Which was pretty ridiculous because there was no way Henry could make the figurines without a kiln.
Immediately, the wall of figurines drew my attention.
The weak winter daylight came through the windows on either side of the stunning display. Each figure was slightly different. Different poses, colors, or accoutrements. Some were in forests, some hung from quarter moons, and still others flitted over ponds of pure blue water. “They defy words. I mean, they’re so beautiful. And delicate. So intricate. Did you make the molds?”
As I turned to face Henry, his cheeks pinkened. He indicated a desk in the corner.
Curious, and assuming I had permission, I made my way over. Several sketches littered the desk, but I also found a number of wood sculptures. I traced my finger along one of them—stunned to find how soft it was. “You make these as well?” Several wood-carving instruments lay on a shelf next to the desk, so the question was redundant. Still, I wanted to hear him speak.
The silence, again, wasn’t oppressive. Just…I wanted more.
Zeus rubbed his snout against Henry’s hand.
Henry’s grin lit the room as he dropped to his haunches. “Hello, Zeus. I made dinner for you.” He glanced up, “Oh, if that’s okay. He might’ve eaten—”
“As long as it’s not chicken, you’re fine. He’s got a sensitivity.”
“No.” Henry’s brow furrowed. “I made lamb. My mom always made the best lamb. Mine isn’t as good, but I try. I miss my mom.”
Ouch.“I’m sure it’ll be great.” I hadn’t wanted to assume I’d been invited for dinner, but this felt like an invitation. “Zeus will love you even more.”
“Zeus loves me?” Henry’s green eyes widened.
I smiled. “Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret. Zeus loves everyone. Especially someone who feeds him. But he’s been a fan of yours since you came out to the farm. We don’t get a lot of visitors.”
“But you have workers.”
“Yeah. And some give Zeus extra attention, for sure, but most come to work and want to go home at the end of the day.”
