Chapter 11
“Even after seven years of neglect, I can tell not much was done by way of maintenance when Chuck Reynolds was here,” Brody said to Dan.
“Yeah, the man was an asshole.”
“Did you spend much time here when you and Leah were a thing?”
“Thing?” Dan looked around him. The land was overgrown and needed to be grazed, but before that, the fences would have to be checked.
He and Brody were fixing the hole in the roof Hudson had told them about. They’d found two more. All around them family and friends were doing things. JD had brought his garden tractor and was cropping the lawn around the house. Sawyer and Ryder were working on the shade house.
“I’ve got this now. Go inside and see if any of the internal roofing needs fixing. Plus, check walls and floorboards, Dan.”
“Okay.”
“Tell me when the coffee is ready.”
“Will do.”
Looking for Leah, he didn’t see her anywhere out here, but Dan found Hudson looking at a tree that was close to the house. In fact, Dan knew it was the tree that Leah had often used to climb up to her room to avoid her father.
“Hey, Hudson. How are you doing?”
The boy looked at him through those solemn eyes that were just like his mom’s.
“What are you looking at?” Dan asked, crouching down beside the boy.
“Ally said she has a tree house, and that’s her space.”
“Kind of like a bedroom but up high where no adult can tell you to clean it?” Dan asked.
Hudson gave another solemn nod.
“And you think this tree could be a good place for a tree house?”
He turned to look fully up at Dan. He wasn’t big, like some kids he knew, and didn’t make a lot of noise like Ally. Maybe his mom’s death had changed him?
“Do you think it would be?” he asked Dan.
“I’ll tell you what. You go and find Sawyer. He’s the big guy with the tattoos. Looks mean, but he’s a real pussy cat. Go tell him you need some supplies to make a tree house. I’ll come and help you with it in a while, ok? I just need to check on some stuff inside.”
“Really?” Hudson looked hopeful. He didn’t jump up and down like Ally would, but the excitement was there.
“Really.”
He ran off to find Sawyer, and Dan headed for the house to look around and see what needed doing in there.
Leah hadn’t been pleased to see him… or any of them, if he was honest, but they weren’t going anywhere. Pride was all well and good, but this house needed work before the first snowfall in winter.
Dan walked through the rear door, which opened into a utility room.
He then stepped into the kitchen and stopped.
Leah stood on a chair, looking into a cupboard.
Her butt in those worn cutoffs was at eye level.
While that was a distraction, it was more the fact that her shoulders were shaking and she was sniffing that drew his attention.
She turned to see who had entered, and then just as quickly, she looked away, but not before he saw the tears. Leah never cried.
“You okay?” He moved closer.
She nodded, eyes forward, but her breath was coming out in short, sharp pants.
“Why are you staring into that cupboard?”
“I-I, ah—I’m getting something.”
“Okay.” He was standing below her now. “What?”
“Wh-why are you inside?” she asked instead of answering his question.
“Checking if the roof in here is okay, plus the walls and floor.”
Her breath was coming out in gasps. She sounded like she’d run a marathon.
“What’s going on, Leah?” He’d seen plenty of people panicking, and to him, it looked like she was doing just that. What he didn’t know was why.
“N-nothing.” She waved a hand behind her. “Go and do things.”
She was stammering, and Dan didn’t think he’d ever heard her do that before. He stood where he was, taking in the rigid line of her shoulders.
“Need me to help you with something?”
She shook her head.
“Look. I get you don’t like me, and we’ll get to that reason soon, but—”
“I d-don’t want to get to it,” she said.
“Whatever. But if you need help, and I’m standing here, you know I’ll give it to you. So what’s going on, Leah?”
“I-I don’t know how to bake,” she whispered.
He wasn’t sure why that was a problem because he couldn’t bake either, but Dan ran with it.
“And that is making you panic?”
“Not panicking,” she said slowly.
“Not everyone can bake, Leah. I’m shit at it, but I’m a good cop, so there’s that.”
She sniffed back the tears. “Really?”
“About being a good cop? Absolutely. But the baking thing, I’m terrible at. I’ve never tried, possibly because I have Mom and Ryder, who are good at it, so I didn’t ever put much effort into it.”
Wiping her nose again, Leah turned, and those brown eyes were so sad, it made his own eyes itch.
“What were you trying to make?”
“Cookies, but I can’t find the baking powder.”
“Didn’t Ryder bring you food for us?”
Her sigh was pitiful, and it was possibly the first time he’d seen her completely beaten.
“I want to make something. I should be able to make something,” she said, louder this time. “Hudson deserves an aunt who can do that.”
“And this is making you panic?”
“It happens sometimes,” she whispered. “Since Cassie.”
“Which is entirely natural,” Dan said calmly.
“Is it?” She looked at him, eyes hopeful.
“Major change can produce panic attacks. Is that what you get, Leah?”
She nodded.
“Well, Dr. Hannah could probably talk to you about that. Maybe go see her, okay?”
She nodded again and then said, “C-Cassie could bake.”
Feeling like he was wading through something he wasn’t equipped to handle, Dan just nodded because she was at least talking to him.
One thing Dan had realized early in his life, having been raised by a mom and a really bossy sister, was that he didn’t always understand what the issue causing the meltdown was, but what he’d also learned was that listening was the best option every time.
“But she couldn’t sing, and you can,” Dan said.
She sniffed again. He leaned sideways and checked out the open recipe book on the counter.
“So you want to bake him some cookies?”
“Them,” she said, sending her hand in an arc that Dan guessed was meant to encompass everyone working outside.
He picked up the recipe book and started reading because he wasn’t sure what else to do.
Dan could make a run for it and grab any of the women outside this house, hell, even some of the men, but he didn’t because this was Leah, and he’d never been able to walk away from her when she needed him. She was the one who’d done that.
“I don’t have baking powder,” she added forlornly.
“I don’t think you need it if you have self-rising flour because it’s already in there.” He picked up the packet. “It’s one of the things I remember because I once bought some of it when Mom asked me to get flour, and it was the wrong sort, so I got a lecture.”
This made her snuffle. “I didn’t know that, but I should have.”
“Not sure knowing about flours is a big deal when raising a kid, Leah. I mean, they have rolls of cookie dough that I eat direct from the package for a reason.” He read the recipe. “It says you need to preheat the oven and prepare a baking sheet.”
“Dan—”
“Do you want to make these damn cookies or not?”
“Don’t speak to me like that.”
He was pleased to hear the bite in her words again. Her breathing had settled into a regular rhythm too. Dan was glad because vulnerable Leah brought him to his knees.
“Heat the oven to 325,” he said, reading the instructions while she stared at him.
Dan kept running through them until she jumped off the chair. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her turn on the oven. She then began assembling and measuring ingredients, like baking was something they did together every day, as if there wasn’t a whole lot of shit festering between them.
He knew she kept shooting him looks because he could feel her eyes. But he kept his on the book in his hands.
Over the next ten minutes, he leaned on the counter and led her through cookie making, while she, to his surprise, did as he told her to do.
“Now, drop spoonfuls of dough on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper,” Dan said.
“I don’t have that paper.”
They stared at the baking sheets.
“Who knew you needed so much stuff to just make cookies,” Dan muttered.
“Your brother is my guess.”
As if on cue, the door opened, and in walked Ryder.
“What are you doing?” He came closer and looked at the bowl of cookie dough Leah had just made.
“Making cookies,” Leah said.
“Why? I brought food.”
Dan didn’t answer. If Leah wanted Ryder to know she couldn’t cook, then that was up to her.
“I can’t cook, and your brother walked in when I was trying to,” she said.
Ryder smiled. “So you tried to help her when you can’t cook, either, Dan?”
“Look at that cookie dough. It’s perfect,” Dan said. “And while you do, tell Leah how to put them on a cookie sheet if you don’t have parchment paper.”
“Rub some butter on the baking sheets, and they’ll slide right off.”
Leah nodded and did as Ryder said.
Dan had kept his distance from her while she was baking and tried not to stiffen every time she got close and he smelled her scent.
For the most part, she kept her distance as well, and he knew there was tension between them, but in that moment, they’d shelved it to bake cookies.
It would be back in spades, and they’d have to deal with it, but not now. Not when she was vulnerable.
It was hard to see this side of her when she was usually so strong.
Dan knew she was still that, but losing Cassie must have been hell for Leah, and then to be raising her son…
. He had no idea what she was going through.
He hoped the panic attacks eased soon. But he’d be speaking to Birdie and ensuring she got Leah to Dr. Hannah.
“Okay, I think you two have it from here. I need to check those things I said. You put the coffee on. They’ll be screaming for it soon.”