Chapter 13
After he helped Shylo dismount, Seth guided Maple and Daisy into the barn, the late afternoon sun spilling through the open doors in slanted golden beams. Though it was only four, the worst of the heat had passed, leaving the afternoon far more pleasant.
He spotted Jamie brushing down a gelding near the tack room and called out, “You mind grabbing these two? They both need a brush-down. I gotta fix a toilet in the house.”
“Got it.” Jamie nodded as he stepped forward. He took the reins without question, and Seth gave both horses a quick pat before turning toward the house with Shylo. At the back door, they both cleaned their boots on a wrought-iron scraper, brushing off the dust and grit from the trail.
In the kitchen, the scent of something rich and tantalizing—Mya’s famous slow-cooked brisket, if he wasn’t mistaken—filled the room and made his stomach rumble.
He’d just closed the door when Paige entered the kitchen from the hallway. “Hi, Shylo. Nice to see you again.” She set an empty teacup in the sink. “You’re not working at Lou’s tonight?”
“Uh... no. I’m off on Sundays and Wednesdays.”
“Oh, nice. I hope you’re enjoying your downtime. I heard today was your first time on a horse. How did it go?”
She let out a small laugh. “Better than I expected, honestly. Daisy was sweet—and patient. And Seth made it easy.”
Paige grinned. “Good to hear. Daisy’s the best horse for beginners.”
Stepping into the laundry room, Seth opened the closet and pulled out the plumbing snake. “Hey, Paige? Just checking—do you actually need this thing, or were you hoping I’d bring Shylo back for a follow-up visit?”
Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Trust me, if I’d known it would take a minor disaster to get her back here, I might’ve orchestrated this sooner.”
The two women followed him to the half-bath, staying in the hallway as he got to work unclogging the toilet. “Any idea what’s in here?”
Paige shook her head. “Your guess is as good as mine. Ashley was out of my sight for less than a minute while I was on the phone. When the toilet flushed, I came running. I have no clue what it could be. Mya took her for a walk to see the baby goats because she was crying that I wouldn’t let her keep flushing it.
While I waited for you, I ordered toilet handle locks for every bathroom. ”
Seth fed the plumbing snake into the pipe until he met resistance. It had a claw at the end, and when he squeezed the handle, it would hopefully grab whatever was in there.
Meanwhile, Paige faced Shylo, leaning casually against the doorjamb. “So, how are you liking Hazard Falls so far?”
“It’s quiet. I grew up in a small town, but it wasn’t nearly this peaceful. The people here have been kind. And the scenery...” She paused. “Well, it’s beautiful here.”
Seth’s mouth curved into a half-smile as he worked at the clog. On the surface, it was polite conversation, but he heard something else beneath her words. A hint of possibility. And that felt like a win.
“I grew up in a small town too,” Paige went on. “Then I spent years in San Francisco before moving here. Thought I’d go crazy without the pace, but Hazard grows on you. So do the people. And fast.”
A quiet beat passed.
“I just wanted something different.” Shylo’s voice stayed even and thoughtful. “A fresh start, I guess.”
Seth stilled, his hand resting on the tool. It wasn’t dramatic, but something about her tone—low, measured, maybe a little uncertain—caught his attention. He understood it. Not running from something but choosing something else.
“Makes sense.” Paige’s tone softened, as if she’d caught it too. “Well, I hope you stick around. We could use more women who don’t mind a little dirt under their nails.”
He gave the snake one last twist, felt the clog give way, and then pulled it free with a grimace. A small, balled-up blue washcloth clung to the end, soaked and tangled around the metal. Mystery solved.
He shook his head. “Guess we found what Ashley flushed.”
“Oh, jeez. That towel set is brand new.” Paige grabbed a small plastic bag from under the sink and held it out for him to put the dripping mess in.
“Well, with that crisis handled,” she said, “you two should stay for dinner. Mya’s making brisket, and it won’t be ready for a little while, but there’s plenty to go around.”
Seth didn’t need convincing, but it was up to Shylo if she wanted to join them. He turned his gaze to meet hers. When she raised her eyebrows in a silent question, he nodded. A moment’s hesitation followed before she smiled at Paige. “I’d love to. Thanks.”
They followed Paige back toward the kitchen, and when she ducked into the laundry room, Seth trailed after her to rinse the snake in the utility sink.
She tossed the washcloth into the washer with an exasperated sigh, but he barely heard her.
His thoughts were on Shylo and that amazing kiss they’d shared.
For the first time in his life, a kiss meant something deeper than seduction.
It stirred something beyond physical want.
He’d dated plenty of women. A few dinners. Some laughs. Maybe a few weeks together before things started getting serious. But the moment they wanted more—something real—he pulled back and ghosted them. That wasn’t the life he wanted.
Or so he’d always told himself.
He wasn’t sure what unsettled him more—that being around Shylo made him feel something different, or that he didn’t want it to stop.
He stepped back into the kitchen and found her standing near the window, sunlight catching in her hair, her cheeks still faintly pink from the ride.
She seemed at ease—calm, even—but he couldn’t shake the sense that there was still a thread of tension beneath it.
Like she hadn’t fully decided if she could let her guard down.
The urge to offer her comfort, to be someone she could lean on if she chose, surprised him. Instead, he nodded toward the porch. “Come on. I’ll grab us some sweet tea. Might as well sit a minute—before Paige finds something else for me to fix.”
The scent of slow-roasted brisket greeted Shylo as she followed Seth through the back door, mingling with the warm aromas of cornbread, something tangy-sweet, and spiced beans.
Her boots scuffed softly across the tiled floor as they crossed the kitchen and stepped into the dining room, where a long wooden table already held more dishes than she could name.
She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she saw it all laid out. Her stomach rumbled in appreciation, and she shifted self-consciously as Paige appeared with a tray of glasses, some filled with sweet tea, others with water.
“Perfect timing,” she said with a warm smile. “Y’all grab a seat.”
Shylo offered a polite nod and followed Seth’s subtle gesture toward a seat near one end. She slid into the chair as smoothly as she could, keenly aware of the way the room naturally filled with Shane’s family—each claiming a spot with casual familiarity.
Seth sat beside her, his thigh brushing hers for a moment beneath the table, and her pulse jumped.
Shane settled at the head of the table on her other side after placing Ashley on a booster seat opposite Seth.
With springy curls and flushed cheeks, the toddler chatted softly to no one in particular as she played with the rubber-tipped spoon and plastic bowl in front of her.
Paige took a seat across from Shylo, with Arianna sitting beside Seth.
At the other end of the table, Tucker sat with a quiet presence that still dominated the room.
Shylo focused on filling her plate with brisket, cornbread, and sides as dishes were passed. She took her time, letting herself blend into the conversation rather than being at the center of it.
Seth leaned closer. “You’re in for a treat. Mya’s brisket has been known to make grown men cry.”
She gave a faint smile. “No pressure, huh?”
He smirked and turned back to his plate.
Around them, the clatter of cutlery and the low hum of voices filled the space, warm and lived-in.
Another flash of jealousy rose within her—unwelcome this time.
She forced it back down. It wasn’t Shane’s fault she hadn’t grown up with a family like his—the more time she spent in his presence, the more she realized that.
The blame belonged to the father they shared.
That didn’t mean she wouldn’t demand what she came for.
Pushing those thoughts aside, she took a bite of the brisket and closed her eyes briefly at the flavor—tender, smoky, and with the perfect amount of heat and spice.
“This is amazing,” she said, glancing at the Wilsons’ housekeeper.
Sitting beside Tucker and Ashley, Mya gave her a broad, grateful smile. “Thank you. It’s my special dry rub and a lot of patience.”
A pang of loss hit her as she remembered her mother’s cooking. They’d often relied on no-name brands, whatever was on sale, “manager’s specials,” or boxed meals from the dollar store—but with spices and a little imagination, Heidi Kellerman could make it fit for a king.
“So, Shylo,” Shane said as he reached for the salt shaker, “how are you liking Hazard Falls so far?”
She hesitated a second, choosing her words with care. “Still settling in. But it’s been good.”
Paige kept one eye on the mess Ashley was making with her mac and cheese. “Do you enjoy working at Lou’s?”
“I do. She’s really nice. And the people are... interesting.”
Shane barked out a laugh. “I think that’s putting it mildly. We’re an eclectic mix here in Hazard, which means everyone fits in—although some more than others. I take it you haven’t met Bridget Kline yet?”
A few groans rippled around the table as Shylo shook her head. “No, I haven’t. But Seth mentioned her the other night. She’s the mayor’s daughter, right?”
“Yup, and the town...” Paige paused, glanced at her kids who were busy with their meals, then mouthed the word bitch to Shylo before continuing, “Otherwise known as the one who is not to be trusted. She’s got opinions about everything, and she’ll share them whether or not you ask her to.
Fashion, politics, your relationship status—nothing is off limits.
It’s like she thinks she’s Hazard’s royalty, just because her dad got elected twenty years ago, and no one else wants the job to challenge him. ”
“And she still lives at home,” Seth muttered. “With a yappy dog, a designer wardrobe that probably cost more than my pickup, and a standing weekly spray tan appointment.”
“She’s not all bad.” Shane paused and then shook his head. “Actually, no. I take that back.”
The adults all chuckled, which made Ashley giggle.
The table buzzed with comfortable conversation—plans for the upcoming festival, Arianna’s last few days of the school year, and a lighthearted debate over whose turn it was to choose what to play for Friday’s family game night.
Shylo mostly listened. When she spoke, it was with care.
She didn’t want to seem closed off, but she also wasn’t ready to expose who she really was.
Tucker barely said a word during dinner. But she felt his gaze on her now and then. It wasn’t overtly unfriendly—but it wasn’t warm either. If he had questions, he kept them to himself. That somehow made it worse.
Shylo’s gaze drifted to the sideboard, which held a handful of framed photographs nestled between knickknacks and what looked like a kid-made clay sculpture. One photo drew her in—an older couple standing in a pasture, arms around each other, smiling. Peter Wilson and his wife.
“That’s a great picture.” She gestured toward it.
Shane followed her gaze. “Those are my parents. They’re both gone now. This was their place before it became mine—ours,” he added, nodding toward Paige and Tucker.
The tone around the table shifted—not heavy, but softer. Quieter. Shylo caught something flickering in Seth’s expression, though he didn’t speak. No one said much for a few heartbeats.
“They’d be proud of what you’ve built here,” Paige said, her voice gentler than before.
Shylo looked down at her plate, unsure if she was intruding on something private. It was strange—being part of the moment but not truly belonging to it.
Conversation slowly picked back up. The toddler grew restless, babbling about Elliot, and Paige took her upstairs to give her a bath.
Arianna excused herself to watch TV, and Mya began to pack leftovers into containers.
Shylo and Seth offered to clean off the table while Shane and Tucker tackled the dishes, pots, and pans in the sink.
Shylo reached for the last two empty glasses on the table and caught Seth watching her as he straightened the chairs. Not with the quiet scrutiny Tucker had shown earlier—his gaze was lighter, more like curiosity—and maybe hope.
He leaned toward her, voice low enough for only her to hear. “Want to come back to my place for a bit?”
She blinked. “To your—”
“I have my own apartment in the bunkhouse.” He flashed a lazy smile. “It’s got a couch, a TV, and no toddlers trying to flush anything.”
The invitation was casual, but she felt the flutter in her stomach anyway. Not from nerves. From wanting to say yes.
She tilted her head, weighing her options. Part of her wasn’t ready. But a bigger part wanted to be near him again. Wanted more of whatever had been building between them all day.
Her gaze lifted to his. “Yeah. I’d like that.”