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“Aside from being a little confused that Fran had to leave and I was here, he’s been totally fine. I hope it’s okay that I raided the garden to cook his supper.”
He shot her a grin and relaxed. “Feel free to raid my garden anytime, especially if you’re going to cook in my kitchen. Are those fried green tomatoes?”
“Yes. Your grandpa really liked them.”
“They’re his favorite and I always make them too soggy.” Latham popped one in his mouth. Even cold, it was delicious.
“The key is the ratio of cornmeal to flour. I’ll email you the recipe, if you promise not to tell Bertie. Trade secrets and all.” Wynn stood and grabbed her sketch pad. “I should probably be going.”
“Join me for some tea on the back porch?” The words were out and hanging in the air before he even knew he was going to say them.
Her eyes, glass blue and crystal clear, met his, and he could see her hesitation. “Please? I could use some adult conversation after the class I just taught.”
She nodded. “So, no one cut their finger off today?”
Confused, he looked up from pouring tumblers of sweet tea. “No, you mean like with a saw?”
“Isn’t that what you do in shop class?” She held the back door open for him to walk through.
He laughed and handed her a drink as they sat down. “I teach Government, although I was filling in for World History this evening.”
Her cheeks tinged with pink. “I’m sorry, I just assumed you’d be teaching carpentry.”
“You wouldn’t be the first. I have a Master’s degree in Political Science, so naturally I build things for a living. Makes sense, right?”
“Hopefully you’re building good citizens as well as beautiful tables.”
He clinked his cup to hers. “That’s the idea. Hey, you should come and speak to my class some time.”
“Me?” Her expression was shocked and just a little horrified. “Why?”
“Most of them have probably never met anyone who worked on Capitol Hill. You could give them some insider info, what it’s really like.”
Her face shuttered. She set the glass on the small table beside her chair. “I don’t think so. Listen, I have to run. I promised my mom I’d be home for dinner tonight.”
Latham got to his feet, aware he’d said something to upset her but not sure exactly what it was. “Sure thing.”
He walked her to the car and opened the door for her. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you staying with Pop. He’s really special to me.”
“I enjoyed it. And I’m looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow. Just let me know what time you need me.” She slid into the driver’s seat, and before he could say anything else, she was driving down his gravel drive toward the highway.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and watched her taillights fade into the distance. The door opened behind him and Pop stepped out onto the porch.
“Hey, old man. I thought you were out for the night.”
Pop settled in a rocker, hanging his cane over the arm of the chair. “I was faking.”
A laugh burst out. Latham stared at his grandfather. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, it’s not like you bring pretty girls out here all the time. And you can’t have meaningful conversation with your old grandpa butting in, now, can you?”
Latham shook his head. “Sometimes I have to wonder which one of us is more with it, Pop.”
His grandfather, who had raised him from the time he was a toddler, chuckled to himself. “So, did you ask her on a date?”
Latham stared at the dusky sky, where the North Star was just beginning to glimmer. “No. I don’t think she’s interested in me like that. I couldn’t even get her to agree to speak to my class.”
“Your gran wouldn’t go out with me when I first asked her. She had her cap set for that moon-face jerk Phillip Stewart. I was persistent, though. I asked her so often that I finally wore her down. She went out with me just to shut me up.” Pop grinned, his laugh nearly a cackle. “That was the last time she mentioned Phillip Stewart.”
Latham laughed. “The rest is history, as they say. Gran knew a keeper when she saw him. She was a smart lady.”
Pop’s eyes clouded. “Margenia?”
The lucid moment was gone. Latham tried to be grateful for it and not sad that it was over. As he held his grandfather’s elbow and helped him into the house, his mind drifted to Wynn. She had come to his rescue with Pop when she didn’t have to, but she sure didn’t seem interested in spending any more time with him.
Pop recommended persistence. It had certainly paid off for him. Latham smiled.
Maybe he would have to give it a try.
* * *
The next Sunday, Wynn sat in a rocking chair under the big oak tree at Red Hill Farm, a two-month-old baby girl, the newest of Claire and Joe’s foster children, in her arms.
This baby was small. Really small. How much smaller was a baby when it was a newborn? That terrifying thought speared through her mind as the baby met her eyes with a serious stare.
Family lunch had been the usual insanity. Kids running everywhere. Adults trying to snag a bite or two of food in between chasing the kids. Today two adoptive families had joined the fray, including the family who’d adopted ten-year-old twins, Jamie and John.
Claire dropped into the chair beside Wynn and handed her a lukewarm bottle. “I was on my way to get this when I heard screaming about blood gushing. Matthew cracked his knee open.”
Wynn stuck the nipple in the baby’s mouth. She’d given Ash and Jordan’s little boy a bottle lots of times. It was no big deal. So why was sweat beading on her forehead?
The baby attacked the food with ferocity. She seemed to know what to do. Wynn relaxed back in the chair, letting out a slow relieved breath. “So was there?”
Claire was staring into the distance. “Was there what?”
“Blood gushing?”
Her sister-in-law grinned, one hand pressing into her back, the other sliding around to rub her very pregnant belly. “Oh, yeah. Everywhere. Luckily, from experience, Ash knew to bring his medical kit to lunch today and he was able to super-glue the cut. No stitches unless Matthew breaks it open again. Which, let’s face it, has a high probability of happening. That kid runs everywhere.”
Latham came loping across the yard in front of them, his hands in the air, a football dropping into them. He was dressed in jeans, a faded red RHS T-shirt and his work boots. He tossed the ball back and held his hands up in surrender. “Dude, I’m old. I gotta rest.”
He fell against the tree beside Wynn. “I really have to work out more.”
Claire laughed. “I’ve been telling myself that for months. No one tells you that raising children is an extreme sport.”
Latham peeked over Wynn’s shoulder. “This one’s new?”
“Yep, she’s just here for respite, though. She goes back to her foster family next week.”
“Cool. Pop’s with a neighbor, but he’ll be back pretty soon. Do you mind if I look at the cottage now?”
Surprisingly, the idea of giving up the sweet weight of the baby girl in her arms wasn’t as welcome as Wynn had imagined it would be. She glanced at Claire.
“I’ve got her. Y’all go.” Claire leaned forward and scooped the baby into her arms. “The cottage isn’t locked.”
Wynn fell into step beside Latham as he rounded the barn and skirted the edge of the pond. “I hope you’re not going to regret this.”
He placed a hand on her back as the path got a little unsteady. “Nah. Tell me what you have in mind.”
“I want to paint the whole thing white, for starters. I love that Joe painted such crazy colors for his twelve-year-old daughter, but I’m a little too old for neon green and shocking pink.”
His deep laugh rolled over her. “I can see that. So far, I’m thinking we could knock this out in an afternoon.”
She glanced over at him as they stepped onto the porch. The little cottage was shabby, but despite that, it had charm. “I want the outside to be painted.”
He studied it, stepped forward and knocked on the outside. “Might be better to replace this worn siding and insulate the walls. It would definitely help with your climate control.”
“That’s a great idea. Now for the inside. Most of the house just needs to be painted. I even love the rustic brick fireplace. But I need a studio. What do you think about opening up the attic space above the kitchen for a loft area?”
Latham scratched his head. “I mean, it could be done, no doubt. I’m guessing that’s where the majority of your HVAC and plumbing is.”
“But...”
He shrugged. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way, my granny used to always say. Let me nose around some and I’ll get back with you on that.”
Wynn threw her arms around his neck. “I knew you could do it.”
He gave her an awkward pat on the back, his cheeks red when she stepped away from him. “Don’t thank me yet. I’ll come over here in the morning and do some figuring. We can talk for real tomorrow afternoon when I get home from work.”
“Perfect.” She grinned.
He pushed open the front door. “You coming?”
She was halfway through the bedroom door. “No, I think I’ll stay and make some notes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He nodded. “See you then.”
She heard the door close and stepped back into the main room to watch him go. He was so calm and so steady. She needed a friend like him. She just hoped he would still want to be her friend when he found out about the baby.
Her hand reflexively went to her abdomen. Whatever happened, she and her baby would be okay. She would make sure of it.
Chapter Four
The next afternoon, Latham was back in the cottage, taking some notes of his own. He let the tape measure slide into place with a snap and turned to his notepad on the countertop to write down the measurements. Wynn’s idea of building a loft was actually pretty doable if he opened up the attic space.
A few industrial touches, a coat of white paint, and this shabby old place would look completely different.
The door behind him slowly swung open. Latham turned around to see a little boy around five or six years old, maybe, standing in the doorway, his thumb stuck in his mouth, a dirty bandage on his knee. Big brown eyes missed nothing as they perused the room.
“Hey, buddy, whatcha doin’? Anybody know where you are?”
The little dude still didn’t say anything. Latham looked out the door toward the farmhouse to see if anyone was coming. No one was in sight. “So, you want to see what I’m doing?”
A nod. Communication established.
“I’m measuring because I’m going to build something that needs to fit in here. You want to help?”
Another solemn nod.
“Okay, I have one more measurement I need.” Latham handed the end of the measuring tape to the little guy. “You take this over to that wall and we’ll see how wide the room is.”
The boy didn’t respond, but he took the measuring tape to the wall and held it there. Latham made a quick measurement, which he would have to redo, but it did give him a basic idea. “Thanks, bud. You’re a good helper.”
Joe Sheehan appeared in the door. “Here you are, Matthew! I’ve been looking for you. Claire wants you to come back to the kitchen and finish your breakfast.”
The little boy started for the door, but turned back to wave shyly at Latham.
Latham stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small flexible measuring tape, no sharp edges. “Hey buddy, you take this one and see what you can find to measure inside.”
A grin spread across the thin face, and Matthew grabbed the tape measure out of Latham’s hand and sprinted for the house.
“Cute kid.”
“He is cute. Also a total escape artist. Can’t turn your back on him for a second.” Joe walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottled water, tossing one to Latham and opening one for himself.
Latham took a long drink. “Thanks. You off work today?”
“I’m home today, but I’m learning I’m never completely off work. I’ve already fielded about four phone calls.” Joe Sheehan was Wynn’s older brother and moved back to town after an injury in the line of duty. Joe became the police chief of their little town, shortly after he’d fallen for Claire Conley.
The top cop looked around the small cabin. “I think I’d blocked out the neon green paint in the bathroom. It’s really awful, isn’t it? I hope Wynn’s planning to repaint.”
Latham grinned and leaned back on the kitchen island. “White everywhere. I wonder if she knows how many coats of paint it’s going to take to cover that green.”
“I could answer that, but I’m not going to. A year of marriage under my belt has taught me that keeping my mouth shut is often the wisest policy.” Joe laughed as he paced the length of the room, pausing to look out the window and take in the view of the farmhouse across the pond. He cleared his throat. “So, now that Wynn’s back in town and you’re helping her with the cottage, are you planning to ask her out?”
Latham didn’t move, just kept his eyes trained on Joe’s face and tried not to smile. “I haven’t really thought that far ahead. Right now we have a business arrangement between friends. If things change, I could update you.”
“Sure. She was dead set on leaving Red Hill Springs when she graduated high school. Now things are different. Maybe you should follow through on that crush you had on her in high school.” He looked around. “Wow, I forgot how quiet it is down here.”
While Latham was processing the newfound knowledge that Joe had known about his infatuation with Wynn in high school, the door slammed open and a girl around seven years old came bursting through the door. “Joe! Claire said to come quick. Penny’s little brother got his head stuck in the banisters again!”
Joe sighed and shot a look at Latham. “So much for quiet.”
As Joe swung the little one onto his shoulders, he was rewarded with a pure, sweet giggle, and the look on his face was anything but annoyed. Yeah, Red Hill Springs’ police chief definitely had a soft side. Latham remembered when all the mamas in town warned their kids to stay away from Joe. He’d turned out pretty good despite all the dire warnings.
They’d all changed since they roamed this small town as kids. Maybe those changes were for the better, maybe some not so much. He wondered again what brought Wynn back to Red Hill Springs. And if she was really going to stay.
Latham shrugged into his coat and stuck the tape measure in his pocket. He followed Joe around the trail to where he’d parked his old truck in the driveway. As he drove home, his ideas for the cabin turned in his mind. He could almost imagine the space the way it would look after the reno. Wynn would be at her easel in the loft studio, maybe a pot of coffee on in the kitchen.
It was sentimental, sure, but he always tried to think about the people he was building for. A house wasn’t a home until someone made it one. The tables he created in his barn workshop were only wood and nails until they became the centerpiece of a family kitchen.
Latham turned into the drive on his property, his mind on a big fire and a cup of coffee. He’d stayed longer than he’d meant to at the cottage, and the shadows were long over the gravel road. He hoped Wynn wasn’t too bored. Maybe he was asking too much of her. Although, now that he’d seen how big the job she had in mind for him was, he wasn’t as worried about that.
The dogs barreled around the corner of the house as they heard his door open. He gave them a quick scratch and hurried to the door, pushing it open to find Wynn at the kitchen table putting Scrabble tiles into their velvet bag.
She looked up with a smile. “Well, hey. Your pop was just starting to get worried about you.”
“Was not.” Pop’s voice came from around the corner.
Latham shook his head. “He wasn’t too much trouble?”
“No, he was not.” The grumpy voice came from the living room again.
“Maybe he’s hungry?” Wynn suggested.
Pop stuck his head back into the kitchen. “Yes, as a matter of fact, he is hungry.”
Latham ignored his unruly grandpa. “So he was okay today?”
“He was great. He beat me at Scrabble. Apparently, I need to brush up on my vocabulary.” Wynn walked into the kitchen, lifted the lid on the slow cooker and stirred something that smelled amazing before grabbing her purse and jacket from the counter. “I guess I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Bye, Pop.”
The grizzly gray head popped back into the doorway. “See you tomorrow, Wynn.”
Latham, still in his coat, followed her out the door, Teddy bumping his legs.
Frank dropped a grimy ball at Wynn’s feet, and with a smile, she bent to pick it up. “You’ve got my number, don’t you, Frank?”
With a quick movement, she hurled the ball into the yard and Frank tore off after it. “He knows I can’t resist his goofy grin.”
“Please stay and eat some of the dinner you cooked. It’s only fair.”
She paused on the walkway. “I’ve got to head home tonight, but rain check?”
Across the yard, Frank scooped up the ball and ran full speed across the yard. Latham could see the trajectory of his path, and the seventy-pound dog was bearing down on Wynn, like a runaway train.
Just as Frank reached them, Latham dove between him and Wynn, grabbing the dog and spinning so that he landed on his back and not on top of the dog. Frank scrambled away.
Wynn rushed to his side, tripped over his boot and landed on his chest with a rush of air.
His arms closed reflexively around her, and her eyes locked with his. “Wynn—”
Frank dropped the nasty, wet tennis ball by Latham’s shoulder, and somehow understanding he had a captive audience, slurped a big kiss into Wynn’s ear.
She squealed and rolled to the ground on her back, laughing when Teddy joined Frank in planting wet, slobbery kisses on her face.
Latham shooed the dogs, who were highly annoyed that their plan to lick Wynn into a puddle of laughter had been thwarted. He pulled Wynn to her feet. Her hair was scattered over her shoulders, her cheeks pink as she leaned over to scratch behind the ears of his two misbehaving dogs.
She was laughing.
He was poleaxed.
How was it that he hadn’t seen her for years and as soon as he did, the feelings he thought he’d squelched years ago came roaring back?
He cleared his throat, forcing his brain to make words as she found her car keys again. “Sorry about that. Pop’s companion calls them hooligans, and they really are.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow around noon. Hope you and Pop have a good night.”
He waited to make sure her car started and gave her a wave as he turned toward the house. Teddy bumped his leg and whined. “I know, Ted. Believe me, I know.”
* * *
Wynn paused in the driveway at Red Hill Farm when she heard her name called. She’d spent the morning in her new home and had a sketchbook full of ideas to show for it. Was it nesting if it happened before she even had a baby bump?
Jordan, in jeans and riding boots, hugged the fence on an enormous brown horse.
“I was hoping you’d be here today!” Wynn walked to the fence. The big horse sniffed her hair and snorted.
Jordan laughed. “I’ve had Rocco here out for a run. He’s here on a trial basis so we can see if he’s a fit for our therapy program.”
“How’s it going?”
Jordan slid to the ground and scratched under the horse’s mane, laughing when he leaned in to her touch. “He’s amazing. Really calm and responsive. I’m a little concerned about his size, especially with the kids, but we could probably make it work.”
As Jordan took the tack off Rocco, Wynn crossed her arms on the top bar of the fence. “I’ve been making notes about the cottage. I can’t wait to have it ready to move into. I love being at Mom’s, but if I’m going to figure out my life, I need to be in my own place.”
“I heard from Ash that you’re working for Latham, taking care of his pop.” Jordan plopped the saddle onto a stand and rolled her shoulders.
“Yes. He asked if I could help, and we made a deal—his carpentry skills for my time with Pop. I definitely got the better end of the deal. Pop is awesome.” Wynn grinned. “And I have a really long list of things for Latham to do out here.”
“I also heard there was something between you and Latham, you know, once upon a time.” Jordan stopped brushing long enough to give Wynn a long, speculative look.
Wynn was going to kill her brother. “You heard wrong. Mostly wrong,” she amended. “Besides, it wouldn’t matter. I’m not the person I was back then, and I’m not sure he would like the person I am now.”
“Hey, you’re working on it. None of us is perfect. It’s like this horse. He’s going to make a great therapy horse, but I wouldn’t put a kid up on him right now for a million dollars. He’s got the temperament, but developing the skills takes time.”
“You’re comparing me to a horse?”
With a shrug, Jordan laughed. “Hey, I work with what I’ve got. Plus I like most horses better than most people.”
“So it was a compliment.” Wynn laughed and grimaced as she looked at her watch. “I’d love to stay to see what kind of farm animals you’ll be comparing me to next, but I promised Mom I’d be home for dinner tonight. She’s testing out a new recipe for the café.”
“Don’t suppose she needs any more testers?”
“You know she always makes enough food for an army. Come on over.”
“I’ll text Ash and see if he and Levi want to meet me there.” She snapped her fingers, and Rocco rolled his eyes back at her. “I almost forgot, do you think you could keep Levi for me tomorrow?”
“Absolutely, if I can take him to Latham’s with me.”
“Yeah, that’s no problem. Just make sure the space is baby proof. He’s into everything now.”
“I love that. And, of course, I’ll make sure the place is totally Levi-proof.” She started for the car. “Text me if you’re coming to dinner and I’ll set three more places.”
“Look, I know you didn’t ask my opinion.” Inwardly, Wynn sighed as Jordan tied Rocco off and walked to the fence. “Being pregnant doesn’t make you a bad person, but hating yourself can cripple you.”
Tears flashed in Wynn’s eyes. She swiped them away. “Yeah, thanks for activating the pregnancy hormones.”
Jordan didn’t smile, but her eyes were soft with sympathy. “I have some experience with a lack of self-confidence. Have you told Latham about the baby?”
“No.” Wynn looked at the ground, resisted the urge to kick a tuft of grass. “I just...don’t want to.”
“Tell him. He’s going to hear it from someone else if you don’t.”
“I know. And I will.”
Jordan made a face. “Sorry for telling you what to do. It’s a familial hazard, so I guess you’ll get used to it.”
“Not a bad deal since you come along with the advice.”
Wynn walked to the car, her thoughts tumbling in her mind. She’d had a lot of acquaintances in DC, but no one she’d call a friend. She was lucky that her brother picked someone she wanted to be friends with.
Jordan’s words nagged at her, too. She saw Latham every day, and the longer she waited to tell him, the more awkward it was going to be. She had to tell him tomorrow, and just thinking about the conversation made her stomach churn. In a few short days, she’d come to depend on him. What if telling him meant the end of their renewed friendship?
* * *
Latham knew they were home because Wynn’s car was in the driveway. There were embers glowing in the fireplace, so he knew they’d been in the family room where Pop was usually holed up, if he wasn’t in the sunroom minding his “store.”
He walked out the back door and found them on the porch. The sun had started to fade, but the two of them stood outside, Wynn apparently having forgotten the lesson she learned about playing fetch with his dogs.
She threw the ball, and the two big dogs took off. Latham heard an infectious giggle and realized that Ash and Jordan’s little boy was there, too. He was bouncing in Pop’s arms and laughing at the dogs as they tore across the yard.