Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
T
ripp rolled up to Willow’s house the next day in mid-afternoon. Her car was the only one in the driveway, so he parked beside it. The second he shut his door, a dog started barking in the backyard. Rufus.
The front door opened as he was grabbing his tool kit from the back of his truck. Willow appeared wearing a long T-shirt and paint-smeared jeans, her hair twisted up in a clip at the back of her head. “Hey, thanks for coming,” she called out over the sound of Rufus’s barking.
“No problem. Sorry I couldn’t get down here sooner. I was finishing up a commission that’s due for delivery in the morning.”
“No, it’s totally fine. I appreciate your help.” She paused on the porch as he rounded the back of the truck. Blinked. “Wow.”
He ran a hand over his trimmed beard, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
He’d cut it short in preparation for this meeting.
Before Willow had returned to the island, he hadn’t cared if he looked scruffy.
Had actually preferred it, since it hid most of the scarring and made people tend to keep their distance from him.
This morning he’d decided it was time to clean up his look. Based on her reaction, she approved. “I look that different, huh?”
“Yeah, but in a good way. Angels would weep over that jawline.”
Yeah, right. She was just being nice. The trimmed beard made him feel almost naked. It showed all the thin spots and pockmarks where the scars were.
He glanced away from her, focusing instead on the fence line to the left of the house. “Want me to go around back?”
“Sure. I’ll go with you, just to make sure Rufus isn’t a complete lunatic.” She hurriedly slid on a pair of shoes, shut the door and hurried down the steps toward him.
“Your friend gone already?”
“Yeah, she’s on the ferry over to Vancouver now. Doing some research over at UBC. Something about old skeletons that I didn’t quite catch.”
“How did you two meet, anyway?”
“Undergrad. She’s Canadian but we lived in res together in first year at UW. She’s great.”
“Yeah, she seems it. Your place is in good shape,” he said as they moved toward the side gate. “Looks like it got a coat of fresh paint recently.” Everything was neat and tidy and he didn’t see anything of concern in terms of needed repairs.
“Yeah, I had it redone before I arrived, inside and out to give it a fresh feel. And Mae’s been a godsend getting it cleared out and organized for me. Not sure what I would have done without her.”
“She’s one of a kind.”
“Yep. Okay, Rufus,” she called out when the dog kept barking frantically. “Settle down. Tripp is a friend,” she added as she went through the gate.
Tripp stepped in with her and shut the gate, completely ignoring the dog while it ran around him, barking, hackles up.
Willow grabbed the dog by the collar and clipped the leash on. “Rufus. Stop,” she said firmly, giving a sharp tug. Rufus looked up at her in pure reproach, then aimed a warning stare at him and issued a low growl. “No. Enough.” Another tug and Rufus reluctantly sat, but kept his gaze pinned on him.
Tripp glanced around the yard. Rufus had been busy in the short amount of time he’d been here.
Somehow the grass was completely destroyed all around the inside of the fence, and a few areas showed claw marks in the wood panels or signs of digging at the base.
“I can see what you mean about him being fixated. But are you sure about this?”
“Absolutely. I’ve seen a few videos of this on social media. We take lots of walks, and I’m training him as best I can, but that’s not going to solve everything. Looking at this, you’d think I leave him outside all the time.” She shrugged. “Can’t hurt to try this.”
He had his doubts, but if she was sure, then who was he to say. It wasn’t his property. “All right. Have you got measurements in mind for me?”
“Yep, I took some last night. I’ll text them to you.” She pulled out her phone.
“Sure, my number is—”
“I’ve got it.”
She had his number?
She typed something. His buzzed in his pocket a moment later.
He looked at the measurements. Glanced at Rufus to verify. Seemed about right. “How many of these do you want?”
“I was thinking one on the front fence on either side of the house, and maybe two each on the other sides of the fence.”
That was a lot of holes. “Including the back?” There was only forest back there, no road or alley or even a path for anyone to walk up.
She considered it for a moment. “Let’s leave that for now. He’s been barking like crazy at something back there the past couple nights when I let him out to do his business before bed. I was thinking raccoons or maybe foxes or something. Do you think it could be a cougar?” She frowned in concern.
“It’s possible, but the other two are more likely. He stays inside overnight though, right?”
“Of course.” She sounded almost offended. “He’s still getting the hang of living inside, but it’s way safer for him.”
He nodded. “Show me exactly where you want them.” He wasn’t cutting any holes without her express permission on placement.
“Sure.” She walked him around the fence line. “Evenly spaced would be great, but whatever you think is best.”
“You sure about that?”
She cocked her head, gave him a little smile that made his heart kick. “Yeah. I trust you. Are you hungry, by the way?” she asked before the guilt had a chance to take hold.
He blinked at the abrupt shift in topic, still squirming at the I trust you part. “I’m okay.”
She lifted a perfect, arched eyebrow. “When’s the last time you ate?”
She had him there. It was pretty standard for him to lose track of time completely when he was deep into a project, along with things like hunger and thirst. This custom mantlepiece was his best carving yet, and the most expensive.
He’d been working for weeks to ensure it was as perfect as he could make it.
“Okay, I’m a little hungry. But don’t go to any trouble—”
“I’m not at Mae’s level or anything, but I promise it’ll still be edible. Chicken and veggies okay?”
“Yeah, that sounds great.” He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had made him a homecooked meal. Other than his dad, of course. Maybe it had been Mae. She had a soft spot for wounded things, was always taking people and creatures in and nurturing them. Him included.
“Okay. Rufus and I’ll head inside and leave you in peace so you can do your thing.”
He told himself he should be glad for the space, but he liked talking to her. “Sounds good. But seriously, don’t—”
“It’s no trouble. Come on, Rufus. You can stare at him intently from inside while he works.” She led the dog to the back porch and disappeared into the house.
Alone, with birdsong filling the sudden quiet, he took out his tape measure and got to work.
I trust you.
He pushed her words from his mind, concentrating on the task at hand. It was one of the reasons he loved his work so much. The deep level of focus and working with his hands helped him combat intrusive thoughts when they crept in. And since Willow’s return, they were creeping a lot.
The job itself was straightforward. Just a matter of measuring to ensure even placement, then making the cuts with his hole saw. It wasn’t something he’d want to do to his own fence, but if it made Willow happy, that was all that mattered.
He tidied up when he had finished, carried his tools back to his truck, then walked up the front steps and knocked on the door. Rufus went nuts.
Willow dragged him back from the door, held him on a short leash as she pulled it open. “Hi. Sorry. Rufus, enough.” She gave the leash a sharp tug, quieting the dog but earning another reproachful look.
“I’m all done.” His stomach rumbled at the mouthwatering scent coming from the kitchen as he stepped inside. “Smells great in here.”
“Thanks,” she said with another warm smile that made his heart trip, and waved him farther inside. “I just pulled the chicken out of the oven a few minutes ago.”
“Don’t you want to see the fence before we eat?”
“After. Don’t want dinner to get cold.”
He followed her through the house, taking in all the changes since the last time he’d been in here fixing the kitchen cabinets for Mary. “Looks great in here.”
“Amazing what a fresh coat of paint and a helluva lot of decluttering will do. I have Mae to thank for most of the last part. She’s an organizational wizard and ruthless when it comes to getting rid of stuff. Not that you’d know it by all the rainbow art in her yard.”
“True,” he said with a rueful grin. He’d do anything for Mae. And Willow. His feelings for her were on a whole other level.
She’d set two places at the small rectangular table in the nook off the kitchen. “What can I get you to drink?” Rufus ducked under her chair and laid down, watching everything anxiously.
“Just water. Can I help with anything?”
“You already have.” She placed a glass of chilled water in front of him and brought the serving dishes over, taking the chair opposite him. “Spice-rubbed chicken breasts with roasted smashed potatoes and roasted cauliflower.”
“Looks—”
“Great?”
His cheeks flushed. “Yeah.” He did say that word a lot, didn’t he?
“I’m just teasing you,” she said, a twinkle in her eyes that he hadn’t seen in forever. “You’ve always used that word.” She gestured to the serving dishes. “Go on, dig in.”
He waited until she had served herself before cutting his first bite. “So, what did you and Bronwyn get up to after yesterday morning?”
“Lunch with Mae, then a girls’ night that may or may not have included a few bottles of wine, and then this morning we painted up a couple of old Adirondack chairs with Mae that she found in the shed out back.”
“That sounds wholesome.”
“It was. Loved every second of it. And not sure if I told you, but I’ve also done a few volunteer shifts at the library. They’re short-staffed over the summer, and I’m hoping they’ll let me stay on once everyone’s back from holiday. Can’t keep an archivist away from books, you know?”
“All that plus getting the house set up, your art, and looking after Rufus?”
She shrugged. “You know me. I like to keep busy. What about you?”
“I just finished up my latest commission.”
“Oh, can I see it?”
He hadn’t expected her to be interested. “Sure, I’ll send you some pictures tomorrow. The daylight will show the details better.”
“Can’t wait. I love that you’re doing woodworking for a living now. Other people’s creativity fascinates me.”
He smiled, her enthusiasm infectious. “Just wished it came with a steady income I could bank on.”
“It will. Once word of mouth spreads enough, you’ll have more work than you know what to do with. So, be careful what you wish for. One day you might end up complaining about being too busy.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” he said dryly. It was wishful thinking.
But as nice as that idea was, all he really wanted was her.