Page 12 of Cozy Cabin for Two
“Perfect. I’ll shoot you an email with a budget and some ideas. Gotta go.” Just like that, Chris hungup and was off doing whatever a multi-millionaire does.
I ended the call and then stood there, gaping at her.
“An open house sounds like fun,” she recovered.
“I shouldn’t have volunteered you.”
“Why not? I need something to do. Rosie should start school soon. I can’t just stay cooped up in this beautiful cabin all day by myself doing nothing. I’d planned to get a job, eventually. Until then, I can make calls and plan the whole thing for you. Let me unburden you.”
I scrubbed my stubble, considering the entire idea. “Fine. There is a budget for it. I could probably even pay you. And if nothing else, it’ll keep you from crazy stunts like yelling bear when there isn’t one.” I smirked and stepped around her to the door.
“I got your attention though, didn’t I?”
I paused with one hand on the knob, looking back and trailing my eyes down the front of her, making no effort to hide it. My mouth quirked. “Don’t you know? You’ve had my attention from the moment you stepped off that bus.”
Wow, the smile that radiated across her face did me in. Then I had a thought.
“Hey, why don’t you and Ro come to church with me tonight?”
“Church?” The smile dropped, and she scoffed. I forgot that word was like a curse to her. Nothing against Jesus, but she always hated being a pastor’s daughter.
“It’s not exactly the usual kind of church,” I explained.
I pointedaround the clearing at the ranch hands, dropping names for Willow and Ro to try to remember. Then I gestured toward the barbecue. “That’s Eldon lording over the meat, while Anson’s putting out a huge salad fresh from the ranch’s garden.” The two men talked animatedly nonstop, proud of their first bountiful harvest, already making plans to enlarge the garden next year.
I brought out folded chairs from the truck for Willow and Ro and set them up between the stone fire pit and the food table. I explained our version of church. “We built this pergola and pit on top of this hill last spring. So now every Sunday the ranch hands get together for dinner. The weather has still been niceenough to barbecue. But soon the snow will come, and we’ll have to do this in the mess hall.”
“So it’s a church without a church? But where are the Bibles? And what about a pastor like Grandpa?” Ro asked, trying to make sense of it all.
“Well, church doesn’t always have to be inside a building with a steeple. Smell that fresh air? See nature all around you, Ro? I like to think God is here with us. We all gather together to relax and be grateful for a good week of work on the ranch. We don’t need someone preaching to us about that.”
“I like it. I approve.” Willow’s grin couldn’t escape my notice, just how natural she looked here. She’d changed into jeans and tennis shoes at my suggestion for navigating the uneven ground. She brought only one crutch tonight, her ankle already improving. Of course, the sight of her ass in denim did things to my concentration.
The clearing was alive with activity, some guys tossing a football, some playing cornhole. Daisy’s beat-up truck drew in and parked near the tree line. Knox and Colt ran over and helped her and her sisters unload covered dishes and pie plates from the back. The deal always was that we provided the meat and beverages, and the Wylde sisters provided the sides and desserts.
Dr. Wilkinson’s SUV pulled in behind them next.He climbed out with his son Eli trailing behind, each carrying bags of buns and chips.
“Hey Dusty,” I called and waved him over. The widowed vet had been coming to church since we started it. His quiet presence always added a stabilizing influence to our sometimes rowdy group.
Knox winked at us as he passed by with the rest of the pies. “I see the boss brought the family.”
The word “family” hit me square in the chest, stealing my breath. Is that what we looked like?
I recovered by the time Dusty approached, and he shook Willow’s hand as I made introductions.
“Meet my sister-in-law, Willow, and my niece, Ro,” I announced. The words still felt strange on my tongue, technically accurate but somehow not enough for the complexity of what these two women might be to me.
Willow smirked beside me at the introduction, and when I glanced at her, I caught the flash of something like disappointment or hurt in her eyes before she smoothed her expression into a polite smile.
“Hi, Willow. I’m Dusty Wilkinson, the local vet. I’m at the ranch a few times a week administering to the horses. And this is my son, Eli.”
The boy, with his father’s steady eyes, sandy brown hair, and serious expression, stepped forward, right infront of Ro. I hadn’t thought about it before, but he could be about her age.
“School starts Wednesday. What grade will you be in?” Eli spoke, revealing a cut tooth in front.
Ro glanced up at Willow. “I’m supposed to be in the third grade. But… but I don’t want to be made fun of again.” With worried eyes, she dropped her head, glaring at the dirt.
I froze, completely unprepared for this. What did she mean,made fun of again?I’d have to ask Willow about it later.
