18. Chapter 18

eighteen

“I can manage,” Rowan told Chris as they climbed the steps to the house. She now had crutches and a walking boot over her left foot to her mid-calf.

After spending the afternoon waiting for a doctor and an X-ray, they finally confirmed it was just a sprain. No fracture, no tear, but it was still bad enough that the doctor recommended rest, ice, compression, and elevation, plus over-the-counter meds as needed. He added the boot to help immobilize the ankle.

“Why are you so stubborn? Is this another trait that your father passed down to his children?” Chris quipped.

Rowan glanced at him. “I prefer the term tenacious.”

“Right.” He laughed. “Your sister has a similar streak.”

Digesting that comment, she asked, “What else do we have in common?”

“The eyes. Same brilliant, clear blues. They can look warm like tropical seawater hitting a white-sandy beach or freeze you like the ice in the Arctic.”

Rowan’s brow furrowed at his description. “You’ve studied my sister’s eyes a bit too much. Isn’t she your best friend’s wife?”

“I’m talking about yours,” Chris said with a smile. “I can observe them better without the hat.”

She automatically looked up to where her hat’s bill would be, and she just noticed she didn’t have her hat on. “Where’s my hat?” she gasped.

“Were you wearing it earlier? It must’ve fallen off your head when you stumbled at the cottage. ”

“I gotta go back. My phone and my hat—”

Chris shook his head with an eye roll. “I just gave you a compliment, and all you can think of is your phone and hat?”

Rowan scoffed. “I know the compliment isn’t genuine, so…”

“Why isn’t my compliment genuine?” His left eyebrow rose in confusion.

“You’re a flirt. I know your kind. All the girls at the farm are fawning over you. Even Sheila, and she’s the toughest cookie I know.”

“Sheila’s a sweetheart. What are you talking about?”

“See. Case in point. You easily have them eating out of your hand.”

Chris narrowed his eyes at her with an amused smile. “Are you jealous?”

“Why would I be jealous?” Rowan asked as she opened the door and limped inside.

“Because I’m your fiancé.”

Before Rowan could retort, Alex came sliding into the foyer in her socks.

“OMG! Is it broken?” She stopped barely an inch from Rowan, almost knocking her down.

“Whoa, careful there, slick. We don’t want more injury today,” Chris said.

“Nothing’s broken. I just have to wear this for a couple of days when I’m walking to keep the ankle from moving too much.”

“No. The doctor said to rest the foot for a couple of days. The boot is when you can’t avoid moving, but he wanted your leg up and ankle compressed as much as possible,” Chris corrected.

“You know I don’t have time to sit around,” Rowan protested. “We have guests coming.”

“And you need to be in tip-top shape when they arrive,” Chris reminded. “For now, you’ll rest and avoid more incidents. You’re like a magnet for injuries.”

“I didn’t ask for them.” Rowan glared at him.

“No, but they seem to follow you.” Chris eyed her thoughtfully. Then he turned his gaze to the confused-looking Alex. “You can take care of her from here, right?”

“Yeah.” Alex nodded. “Of course.”

“I don’t need anyone taking care of me,” Rowan protested.

Ignoring her, Chris instructed Alex, “Make sure she puts up that foot. ”

“Aye aye, captain,” Alex saluted.

“Thanks.” Chris turned back to the door.

“Where are you going?” Rowan asked.

“To the cottage. I’ll look for your phone and hat.” He opened the door but glanced back at her. “I also want to check that broken step.”

Understanding why he wanted to do that, she nodded. She was curious about what he would find. “Don’t take too long. I’d like—”

“After a few hours with me, you still can’t get enough, can you?” Chris interrupted with a wink.

Not expecting his teasing, Rowan’s mouth flew open. “Get out of here!”

Chris quickly closed the door before she could find something to throw at him, but they could clearly hear his laughter.

“See, this is why I believed it when you said you were engaged.” Alex wiggled her eyebrows at her.

Rowan rolled her eyes. “What? He’s just teasing.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Alex asked as she turned toward the kitchen. “Come on then. Let’s rest that ankle, and you can fill us in about what happened.”

Rowan followed her into the kitchen and smelled whatever Oliver was tending on the stove.

“Hey, O. Am I smelling…” Rowan sniffed the air.

Oliver filled in, “Clam chowder. Alex showed me to do it the right way.”

“You mean our way?” Rowan sat down on the chair Alex pulled up for her. She let her friend lift the leg onto another chair with extra cushions to prop it up.

“Damn right,” Alex chimed.

“How’s the ankle?” Oliver asked.

“Sprained, but it’s not bad.” Rowan sighed. “It’s a pain in the ass. That’s what it is.”

“So, what happened?” Alex demanded.

“I was at Cottage No. 2, checking things out. I was…” Rowan skipped the part where she was drooling at Chris. “…leaving when suddenly the step broke under my foot. My whole boot got caught in the hole, and I fell.”

“The step broke?” Alex scrunched her entire face in disbelief.

Oliver turned down the heat under the pot. “Aren’t the cottages new? ”

“We completed them last October. Yeah, they’re pretty damn new.”

“Can nine months deteriorate wood?” Oliver asked.

“The winter months can be harsh here, but the cottages were all weather-treated. Wear and tear are common, but this early?” Rowan shook her head.

“How did Chris find you?” Alex asked.

“He just finished swimming, I guess. He must’ve heard me yell when I fell.” Rowan shrugged, but her face involuntarily heated as she recalled him running to her bare-chested and damp.

“Well, good thing he was close by,” Oliver added.

Yeah, good thing.

Chris squatted down in front of the porch steps of Cottage No. 2. The stair treads were solid yellow pine wood with great density and rot resistance—made for harsh weather. He was no expert woodworker, but he’d learned enough that they weren’t supposed to break that easily.

Rowan probably isn’t more than a hundred-twenty, he calculated from when he’d carried her earlier. He remembered thinking she was compact but solidly built. But she couldn’t have broken the tread by simply stepping on it, even if she’d stomped or jumped on it with everything she had.

He examined the broken edges and frowned. Before grabbing the pry bar, he took a few pictures with his cellphone. He carefully took off the fractured tread and set it aside. Good thing Rowan had the forward-thinking to keep some leftover supplies handy in the equipment barn. They were all stored and appropriately labeled. It was easy to grab what he needed to replace the broken step.

By the time he finished, it was after six, but the sun was still shining brightly. He was ready for a shower, a drink, and a meal. He put the tools back into the toolbox and carried them along with the broken tread to the cart. He’d also found Rowan’s cell earlier.

Chris belatedly remembered Rowan's hat when he put his burden in the cargo box of the cart. Where the hell is that hat ?

He jogged back to look for Rowan’s hat. It was a mossy green cap from the famous Maine-based outdoor store, so he might’ve missed it lying on the grass. He looked around the patch of grass right in front of Cottage No. 2 and saw no hat.

He pulled the image of Rowan sitting on the grass, facing the cottage after extracting her foot from the hole. Her hat shouldn’t have fallen far from there. He scanned the ground again, double-checking under the steps and shrubs, but nothing.

What’s that?

Chris bent down next to the porch stairs and studied the shrub bed along the front porch.

Is that a boot print?

There was a disturbance in the mulch covering the bed in the shape of a boot. But what an odd place for it.

Chris’ lips went flat into a straight line as he thought of several reasons for the print. Most could be innocent, but Chris’ instinct said otherwise. Nobody they knew had been in these cottages. They mainly had been at the barn or the main house training staff.

Still unable to find the damn hat, Chris walked back to the cart after taking pictures of the print. Instead of driving back to the house, he steered the cart to the next cottage. Systematically, he checked all the other steps and scanned for any oddities around the other structures.

If there were other vandalisms, he wanted to make sure he found them before someone—Rowan, in particular—got hurt again.

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