Page 54 of Pick Yourself Up
What could have torn them apart? What could have turned two men who’d valued family into strangers?
When Boomer woofed softly, she blew out the sadness that came with those questions. “I’m good, Boomer. Just too much introspection. Back to work.”
She dipped the roller into the paint tray again. The green was deep and soft. It soothed her, and she hoped it would be the same for her guests. Painting all the rooms the same color made sense. She could differentiate them all with linens, window coverings, and knick-knacks she’d find for each room. Bits and pieces of history and the farm. Items that would entertain and teach while looking good.
She hadn’t spent any time in the basement or the attic yet, but she hoped they both held some treasures for her to use.
She should probably venture out and talk to more people in the area. Ask if they knew where she could find some of the things she looked for. Maybe when the B&B was further along. And maybe not. That required more of an extroverted nature than hers. But maybe she could do it for the B&B.
Smiling, she looked at Boomer, who contented himself with watching her and exploring the nearby rooms as she worked. He was smart enough to avoid tools and fresh paint, so she didn’t worry when he moved away. He was always on alert to threats and prevented her from ever feeling nervous alone in the huge house.
On rainy days, she had more help and tackled some of the bigger issues. She’d removed toilets and sinks on her own but needed help with the tubs that were cracked. And to take the bigger items down the stairs. At least a few of the tubs were huge clawfoot deals. That would be a draw once the B&B was a reality.
The upgraded fixtures would take another chunk out of her savings, but that didn’t matter. Seeing the building grow was worth it. It wouldn’t be ready to function as an inn for a long while, but working on it was pure pleasure.
She hadn’t tackled the kitchen or owner’s suite yet, but she’d almost finished painting the second-floor rooms. Without the need for structural changes, she hadn’t needed to do more than freshen up these rooms and choose new fixtures. No way was she leaving toilets that had been around for half a century.
Boomer returned to the doorway and woofed. Someone was coming, but the person wasn’t a threat.
Sure enough, she heard whistling. A tune from the musical Annie, which meant it was her brother alerting her to his presence.
She finished the wall as he popped into the room. “Hey, Amber. It’s looking good in here. I can’t believe how much painting you’ve done.”
She grinned. “It’s going well. I’m going to use a softer version of this color in the hallways and in the rooms downstairs, but I think I’ll wait until we’re done hauling bathroom fixtures up and down before I tackle those.”
“Good plan. Doesn’t look like it’ll be long before you’re ready for that.”
She grinned. “Not long at all.”
“I have a favor to ask.”
“Anything.”
His smile softened. “You always say that before you know what we need.”
She laughed. “It doesn’t matter what it is. If it’s in my power, you’ve got it.”
He crossed the few steps and hugged her. “Same. Anything you need.”
She swallowed hard and hugged him back. “I know.”
He squeezed her. “This one requires your muscles for a few days, starting in the morning.”
“Okay.”
He laughed. “Still not asking. Okay, I’ll tell you, anyway. It’s time to pick some apples.”
Her heart leapt with happiness. “That’s amazing. Your first harvest.”
Knox grinned. “Our first harvest, not just mine.”
She laughed. “It’s going to be amazing. Any idea how we do it? Do we have enough ladders for all of us to use?”
He shrugged. “Probably, but I’ve been working on figuring out more efficient methods. We’re going to use the multi-bin trucks in the barn. I’d like everyone to review the details tonight, so we’re ready to go first thing. Do you want to see?”
She nodded. “Let me just clean up my brushes, then I’m all yours.”
He grinned. “I’ve got Claus and the rest meeting us there in twenty minutes. I’ll give you a hand.”
