Chapter 16
Logan
“Isn’t this view to die for?” Grandma Charlotte said as Logan joined her at the picture window in her condo’s living room. Jasper trotted around the empty space, exploring, a miraculously still intact gingerbread stuffy hanging from his mouth as he went from room to room.
“Yeah, it’s something, all right.”
Snow-covered mountains framed the dark blue water of the bay. A dramatic display of clouds streaked across the sky the same startling blue color as Dylan Webber’s eyes—the same color as his daughter’s eyes.
He checked his phone once more, but Haylee still hadn’t reached out.
“It’s not even been twenty-four hours,” Grandma Charlotte pointed out. “Give the girl some time. That letter obviously packed a punch.”
He wanted to read it.
He wanted to know what upset Haylee so badly she ran outside in a pair of socks and no coat in negative twenty-five-degree temperatures. Leaving her in that bedroom looking completely broken was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
More than anything, he wished he could protect her from the pain Dylan’s letter caused her. If he’d known this was going to happen, he might have thought twice about delivering it to her.
“What are you doing for furniture until your things arrive?” Logan asked, looking around the barren condo.
Other than a folding chair positioned near the picture window, the boxes of newly acquired decorations, and the infamous three-foot moose-themed Christmas tree in the corner, the place was empty.
He doubted Grandma Charlotte would sleep on an air mattress.
“I have a new bed being delivered next week. Until then, I’m going to stay at the lodge,” she said.
“Those Whitmore sisters are just the sweetest women I’ve ever met.
None of them are Whitmores anymore, I’m told.
But everyone still calls them that. This town is just full of fun stories! Oh hey, I have a lead for you.”
“A lead?”
“For a job. You’ll need work outside your one-weekend-a-month commitment, right?”
“Right.”
Originally, he planned to take Jim Webber up on his offer to work for his construction company in Anchorage. But even if he were moving to Anchorage—which he was not—he would find something else.
Maybe someday that relationship could be repaired, but he accepted that it wouldn’t be anytime soon.
The Webbers needed time to digest the news of a granddaughter, and decide what they were going to do about it.
They could reach out if they wanted. But unless they apologized to Haylee for their hurtful outburst, Logan wasn’t interested in hearing what they had to say.
“Ford Harris—he’s married to Cadence Whitmore—is looking for a full-time handyman to add to his staff,” Grandma Charlotte explained. “He’s willing to work with your Reserve commitment. Said you can start after New Year’s if you want the job.”
“And you know this how?”
“Because you came highly recommended to him. I may have filled him in on your credentials.”
By credentials, Grandma Charlotte meant the skills he’d acquired from Gramps. It didn’t exactly make him a handyman, but he was willing and eager to learn. Working with his hands might be a nice way to honor Gramps’ memory, too.
“I’ll give him a call next week,” Logan promised as Jasper plopped down at his feet, attacking the gingerbread’s squeaker with all his might.
He checked his phone again, despite it not having made a sound.
“You love her, don’t you?”
“No point in denying it. I know it’s fast, but—”
“Your grandpa fell in love with me in one day. That turned into forty-seven years. Nothing’s too fast if it’s true.” Grandma Charlotte wrapped her arm around his back and tugged him against her in a side hug. “Give her time. She’ll come around sooner than you think.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I’m old and wise. Of course I’m right.”