Chapter 13
Rhodes
Opal chattered from the back seat of the truck about her day.
She went over all of the games at recess and her new friend, who shared her love of drawing unicorns, clouds, and cats.
I nodded along with her, half-listening while my gaze swept the grounds, noting East’s group clustered near the front of the gate where they had been reinforcing the fencing.
It really was amazing work. Each piece ended in a little spike, and just the thought of someone climbing over and potentially getting impaled made me happy.
Sick? Maybe, but they’d deserve it if they tried to break in.
Small towns were great, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t crime or sick-os. If anything, it just made it easier to hide.
The sun was starting towards the tips of the tallest oaks lining the property’s edge as my truck tires crunched across the gravel.
East stood among them, clipboard in hand, gesturing at the stone pillars and the hinges that I knew he was concerned about. There was some rust in spots that he said he needed to fix if the gate was going to work properly, or we’d have to replace it completely.
At the sight of my truck, he raised a hand in greeting as I cut the engine. Opal was already squirming and unbuckling herself before I could remind her to be careful. "East!" she called, already skipping toward him like she'd known him her whole life, which in her world probably felt true enough.
I followed at a slower pace, the faint ache in my shoulders from hauling lumber earlier reminding me that desk work back in Seattle over the past months had made me soft. It felt good to get back to a more physical mindset out here and to do something that made me lock my body into a task.
Once East had finished everything else, I was going to contract with Holt Construction to renovate the carriage house into a gym. Just because I wasn’t going out on jobs regularly didn’t mean I wouldn’t train as hard.
Gate's coming along," East said, nodding toward the workers welding fresh supports into place. “We checked the rest of the fence.” He gave a shoulder roll as if his were hurting like mine. “Should be solid by the end of the week."
Good. The security system would go in as soon as they finished.
“Appreciate it. Opal's been asking about a swing set. Should I order one, or could one of your crews build one while they’re working on the structure off the back patio?”
East chuckled, ruffling Opal's hair as she tugged at his sleeve to show him a crayon drawing from her backpack.
“Probably should go ahead and order a kit.
We might be able to assemble it together after hours.
Pergola first, though—got the lumber stacked out back.
It'll give her a shaded spot to play under once the weather warms up.
" He knelt to her level, examining the drawing with mock seriousness.
"This cat looks fierce. You draw that today? "
Opal beamed, nodding vigorously—I watched her for a moment, the knot in my chest easing a bit at how easily she slotted into this new life, where people genuinely cared about her. Tires crunched again in the gravel, drawing my attention to an approaching SUV as it parked behind my truck.
“I’ve got a consult on the greenhouses with a gardener who came down from Portland,” I explained as East’s eyes narrowed at the vehicle. He was obviously trying to figure out who they were.
He nodded, scooping Opal up onto his shoulders in one fluid motion that made her squeal with delight.
"We'll be out here if you need us. Come on, kiddo—let's check on that pergola spot and see if we can spot any fairies in the bushes. I’ll show you where the swing set will go, and you can tell me how high you want to go.”
“Bye! I need to see faeries!” she sang, obviously happy to go off with her new best friend.
It was nice to have these new relationships where my daughter felt comfortable enough to go hang out while I talked to another grown-up.
Their laughter faded as they headed toward the back of the property, and I turned toward the SUV, extending a hand as the man stepped out.
He was in his late fifties with sun-leathered skin and a clipboard tucked under one arm.
"Thanks for making the drive down,” I said, gripping his hand firmly.
“Mitchell Hershnon,” he replied, his eyes already drifting past me to the distant glass peaks of the greenhouses, half-hidden by overgrown foliage.
"No trouble. I was happy to come.” He rocked a little on his heels.
“I’d heard about this place from a colleague.
Historic places like these don't come along often, so I’m happy to be given a chance to give you any help you need. ”
We walked the winding path toward the cluster of greenhouses. The first one loomed ahead, its iron frame nearly as tall as the trees, but the glass panes were covered in grime, and some were cracked with spiderweb patterns that caught the fading light.
“These are incredible.” He shot me a look. “Do you have some idea of how you’d like to use these? Do you have an affinity for plants? Is that why you bought the property?”
“Not really,” I admitted, even though he gave me the sad, disappointed look that I expected.
“But the grounds are beautiful. I’ve got someone I hired to help with some of the maintenance since they’re so large, but the idea is that I’ll have time to work on things myself.
The greenhouses, I’m not real sure about. ”
He gave a little distracted nod and pushed the door open with a creak before inhaling deeply in a way that was a little weird, making his glasses rise and fall on his face.
“It doesn’t smell moldy. That’s a good sign.” He began making notes immediately, his gaze methodical as he inspected the framework. "These are Victorian," he murmured, tracing a finger along an iron beam. “Cylinder glass up top. That’s rare now."
I crossed my arms, leaning against a weathered potting table that groaned under my weight.
“I had some people come and look at them. They say that they’re structurally sound.
The glass will be cleaned, and the broken panes replaced, but I don’t really know anything about plants.
Is it unreasonable to think about putting stuff in here? ”
Mitchell hummed, flipping pages on his clipboard. “No, but you need to have the soil tested in both of them, re-do the irrigation, check the ventilation, and the heating systems that are in place. That’s not my area of expertise.”
If I rolled my eyes, they’d be pointing at the back of my head right now.
Wasn’t that what he’d do? Soil test or whatever?
Rubbing the back of my neck, I tried to rein him in while he talked about phases and ripping out the plants that were here.
If the plants were still okay, then they should stay.
Wasn’t that what Sage had said? He started losing me with complex names and questions I couldn’t answer.
I just wanted concise, easy-to-follow plans.
“Well, thanks for coming out,” I finally said, stopping his flow. There was no way I’d be able to work with him. “I appreciate your time.” Not that I hadn’t paid for it.
We shook hands again outside, the sun lower now, painting the glass in amber hues. I watched him drive off, the reluctance settling heavier in my gut, but then another vehicle pulled in, Sage's delivery van rumbling to a stop near the gate where East's crew still hammered away.
She stepped out, red hair catching the light like embers in the wind, gloves tucked into the back pocket of her jeans that hugged her curves in a way that drew my eyes despite myself.
Today, she looked positively adorable in a t-shirt two sizes too big, slipping down her neck.
Freckles dotted all the way across her cheekbones, but the creamy column of her neck stretched completely clear of any of the wayward little marks that I could see.
I still wanted to get closer to examine for myself, dip my fingers underneath the cotton, and peel it back to see if the rest of her had angel kisses in surprising places.
If not, I would be willing to give them to her.
Every time I was around her, I was surprised at myself and by the thought of what I’d be willing to give to have her, but I wasn’t so sure she’d be into the baggage I brought with me.
Sage was the exact opposite of my ex-wife in every way, but that didn’t mean I could go there. Right now, I had my hands full.
Opal spotted her first, waving wildly from atop East's shoulders as they circled back from the pergola site. "Sage! Come see the fairy houses we made!”
Sage laughed, the sound carrying across the yard like something I hadn't realized I'd been waiting for—she waved back, but her gaze locked on mine for a beat, something electric passing between us before she turned to greet East and Opal.
“Fairy houses, huh? I love those. Did you build them in a little circle? I sure hope East told you all the rules.” I had no idea there were rules for fairy houses, or if she was just teasing. Maybe it was a small-town thing.
“Yup. East told me all about them. Can I show you the spot for my swing? I picked out the best one.”
Sage knelt to her level, her smile soft and genuine. "I'd love to. East does build the very best faerie houses. He was the one who taught me all about them.”
She let Opal tug her along, chattering the whole way, Sage laughing easily with her.
It left East and me alone for a moment as his sister ran across the lawn.
I could see them as Opal talked with her hands, like she always did.
Sage had knelt low and tilted her face up to hers, listening as my daughter pointed and they gathered more sticks from the ground.
It struck me that Catherine would never have indulged such behavior, but there was Sage helping Opal build tiny structures in the small rock wall, talking with her animatedly.