Chapter Five
Carson’s first action in Ethel’s house was to put up a heavy-duty dust barrier between the bathroom and the rest of the house.
It was a good-sized bathroom, thankfully, which would make his job a lot easier.
He was in the garage, setting up the saw he’d borrowed from Chet, when he got a text from the man himself.
Hey Carson. Can you open the garage?
He did so and Chet came in carrying a trowel and caulking gun. “Borrowed these from Craig since I couldn’t find mine. Craig said if you need anything else, you can find him in his garage. He’ll be working there until five or so.”
“Thanks, man.” Though Carson’s father and Chet had hit it off right away, for Carson establishing a friendship with Chet had taken longer.
Chet’s old man had a reputation around the rodeo circuit for being a mean old bastard and Carson had been suspicious of the younger Hardwick when Amy first started bringing him around the ranch for family dinners.
But Chet had won him over. He wasn’t thick with charm like some cowboys. And he never bragged about his impressive achievements in the rodeo ring like others. Instead, he was quiet and hardworking and utterly devoted to Amy. Seeing what a caring dad he was to Robin had sealed the deal.
“Need any help?” Chet asked.
“Thanks, but I’ve got this. I’m putting in the subfloor and pan today. Shouldn’t take more than a few hours.”
“Nice of you to do this work for Ethel.”
Carson glanced up quickly, suspecting a subtext. Sure enough, there was a glimmer of amusement in Chet’s eyes. “Ethel had me over for dinner a good many times when I was a kid. This is my chance to repay her kindness.”
“And maybe it puts you in Larkin’s good books too?”
Carson grinned. “Yeah. That too.”
Chet clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, good luck with both your projects—the bathroom and the woman.”
“Thanks. And thanks again for the tools. I’ll see you back at Bramble House.”
Once Chet was gone, Carson shut the garage door behind him.
His feelings for Larkin must be pretty obvious if even Chet had noticed.
Not that he was trying to hide them. The grown-up woman was even more amazing than the teenaged version had been.
Larkin had always had an inner depth to her, an ability to feel empathy for other people.
At the same time, she could be tough and determined.
The combination was powerful. He’d never met a woman who could compare.
And yet, a destructive anger was burning inside of him toward himself and Andrew. Why hadn’t he seen what his supposed friend was up to? Why hadn’t he been there to protect Larkin when she needed him? And how could Andrew have been such an SOB?
Carson was glad to launch into a physically demanding job.
As he pried away the old subfloor, he imagined throwing punches at Andrew.
What kind of animal forced himself on a woman?
Especially one who had been his friend? And was it possible for a man like that to evolve into a loving father and husband?
Bozeman was less than an hour away. Maybe he should pay Andrew a visit. He’d like to ask these questions in person. See the expression on Andrew’s face.
For almost an hour his work and his angry thoughts preoccupied him. So much so that when he heard the front door open and the sound of women’s voices, he dropped his hammer on the tile floor.
“Carson? Is that you? Did you drop something?”
He picked up the hammer, relieved it hadn’t broken any of the black and white tiles. He unzipped the plastic dust barrier and looked down the hall. Larkin and Ethel were taking off their boots at the entryway. And suddenly his black mood vanished.
“Sorry. That was my hammer. Have you come to check out my work?”
“We came for a bowl of my minestrone soup,” Ethel said. “Would you like some? I have plenty in the freezer, as well as homemade cheese buns.”
He looked at his watch, surprised to see it was noon already. “I sure would, thanks.”
Using her walker, which Larkin must have carried into the house, Ethel padded toward the kitchen.
Meanwhile Larkin removed her wool hat and shook out her long bourbon-colored tresses.
Her cheeks were pink from the cold, her eyes bright.
She made a totally intoxicating sight. Especially when she smiled at him.
“You look good in a tool belt.”
He glanced down at the heavy leather belt strapped around his hips. “I bet you say that to all the guys.”
“Actually, I don’t think I’ve spoken that sentence ever before.” She ventured down the hall and peered toward the bathroom. “Good idea to put up that plastic barrier.”
“It should keep most of the construction dust from spreading throughout the house. How did your interview with Amy and Chet go this morning?”
“It was good. I do get the feeling that they’re struggling to hold everything together. It’s a lot, right? They each have their own small business, plus an active one-year-old.”
His instinct was to defend his sister. “They’ve got it under control.”
Yet, he had to agree they were close to maxed out. Amy had seemed on the verge of tears about the garburator until he’d told her he thought he could fix it. She and Chet were always running from one job or chore to another. They barely had a minute to themselves all day.
“I hope you’re right,” Larkin said. They heard a clatter from the kitchen. “I better go help Gran. I’ll call you when lunch is ready.”
Carson went back to work. He found himself whistling.
Caught smiles on his face when he passed by the vanity mirror.
Thirty minutes later, Larkin called him to come and eat.
He washed up and joined them at the kitchen table.
The room was small, but cozy, and he felt a twinge of nostalgia as he recognized Ethel’s dinnerware.
In a flash he was a teenaged boy again, excited to be having dinner with his girlfriend and her grandparents.
Back then it had been important to him that her family liked him.
He’d been extra polite and well behaved, so much so that her grandfather had often teased him and tried to get a rise from him.
Now that he was an adult, he was more concerned about what Larkin thought.
Did she believe him that he hadn’t known what Andrew was up to?
Even if she did, maybe she would find a simple Montana rancher too boring for her tastes.
Well, he couldn’t change that about himself. Couldn’t change anything, really.
Larkin ladled out the soup then passed around the basket of cheese buns.
“Thanks so much. This looks great.” The food did look tasty, but he would have eaten macaroni from a box to have the chance to be with Larkin like this.
“It’s the least I could do,” Ethel said. “Considering all the work you’re doing for me. Do you really think the project will be completed by Christmas?”
“I didn’t find any nasty surprises when I pulled up the floor. No mold or rotting wood. So I’d say yes. You should be able to move in on Christmas Day.”
“What a great present that will be,” Ethel said. “I’ve been out of my home for so long.”
Larkin patted her grandmother’s arm. “It must have been hard on you but think of all you’ve been through. The surgery. The rehab. Getting back on your feet. You’ve done so well, Gran. I’m glad you’re waiting until your house is safe before moving back.”
As kids and teenagers Carson had enjoyed Larkin’s wild and adventurous side, but he’d especially loved the way she was with animals and little children. Patient and gentle, a lot like she was being now, with her grandmother.
“This soup is so good, Gran,” Larkin said. “I’m having more. Anyone else?”
“Yes, please,” Carson said.
Ethel looked pleased. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe. She used to make it every spring when we were drowning in zucchini. She’d add carrots, onions, and potatoes from the root cellar. A jar of preserved tomatoes, and beans of course. We didn’t get them in cans back then; we bought them dried.”
“I don’t suppose you have any cookies in your freezer for dessert?” Larkin asked hopefully.
“Afraid not. You’ll have to wait until tonight for your sweets.”
“Tonight?” Carson asked.
“Didn’t I tell you?” There was a pretended look of innocence on Ethel’s face. “I’ve reserved a place for the two of you at the Copper Mountain chocolate-making event. It starts at seven.”
*
When Robin woke at one-thirty in the afternoon, Amy changed his diaper, then took him directly to the kitchen.
Her son was always hungry after his nap.
In the kitchen she found Jo pulling yet another sheet of scones from the oven.
On the counter were already several dozens of both her pumpkin-ginger and berry-orange.
“I can’t even describe how incredible this kitchen smells right now. What flavor is that batch, Jo?” she asked as she shifted Robin to one hip and opened the fridge with her free hand.
“Classic currant. I’m going to glaze them and then I’ll be done for the day.”
Amy pulled out a carton of yogurt and a jar of homemade applesauce. Then she strapped Robin into his high chair. “You’re going above and beyond. Our guests are sure in for a treat tomorrow.”
“Just make sure the Carrigans bring lots of clotted cream,” Jo said. “Nothing goes better with scones than a good cup of tea and some clotted cream.”
“I agree,” Shelley said, coming in from the dining room. She looked tired and her white apron was streaked with gray tarnish. “I’ve finished the last of the silver, Amy. Want me to start washing the fine china?”
“That would be so helpful. But why don’t you have a break first and try one of Jo’s freshly baked scones.”
“I’d love that. And some tea too, if that’s okay.”
“Of course. I’d love a cup as well, please.”
“Vanilla Earl Grey, okay?” When Amy nodded, Shelley said, “How about you, Jo?”
“No thanks.” Jo added a dash of salt to her glaze and then began brushing it over the currant scones. “I’m heading home right after this.”