3. Aiden
Aiden
Two days after meeting Paige Whitaker, I’m using my lunch break to find out whether she’s seeing anyone.
This is a good use of my time.
Rowan stares at me across the counter at Pike’s Perk. “Why?”
“I’m curious.”
“About her relationship status?”
“About her.”
“That doesn’t clear anything up.”
Axel leans against the counter beside me and picks up the coffee Sadie left for him. He was supposed to help me load fencing supplies. He was supposed to help me load fencing supplies, not stick his nose into this conversation.
“Paige Whitaker?” he asks.
I look at him. “You know her?”
“No.”
“Then stay out of it.”
He grins before taking a drink. “I know she pissed you off at the library.”
“She didn’t piss me off.”
Rowan folds her arms. “Sadie said you came in yesterday complaining about a librarian who gave you attitude.”
“I said she was difficult.”
“You said she was bossy,” Axel says.
“She is bossy.”
“That must have been hard for you,” Rowan says.
I ignore both of them while she finishes my coffee.
This plan had sounded smarter in my head.
Virginia Dale is small enough that everyone knows who bought a new truck, who argued in the grocery store parking lot, and who left the brewery together.
Finding out whether Paige is involved with anyone should have taken one question.
Instead, I’m getting judged by a woman I briefly considered dating and my brother, who has never willingly removed himself from anyone else’s business.
“I want to know if she’s like that with everyone,” I say.
Rowan slides my coffee across the counter. “Directly?”
“Like she expected me to listen.”
Axel coughs into his fist to hide a laugh.
I turn my head. “Do you want to walk back to the ranch?”
“You drove.”
“I’m aware.”
Rowan shakes her head. “Paige is kind. She’s good with kids, she knows more about books than anyone I’ve met, and she keeps to herself unless she’s working.”
“What else?”
“She hikes. She lives outside town. She drinks coffee. She usually has a book with her.”
None of it explains how a woman who knows half the town’s children has stayed nearly invisible in local gossip. The less I find out, the more I want to know.
“Is she seeing anyone?”
“I have no idea.”
I wait.
Rowan lifts her eyebrows. “Would you like me to invent a secret husband?”
“I expected an answer.”
“You expected us to have a file on her just because a beautiful woman didn’t fall at your feet.”
“She knows who I am.”
“Which makes this even worse for you.”
I take a drink to keep from responding. Paige knew exactly who I was. She didn’t care. She looked me in the eyes, cut off my temper, and told me how to help my daughter. Then she watched me do it with that satisfied curve to her mouth.
I’ve thought about that mouth more times than I plan to admit.
I’ve also thought about how quickly she noticed Josie was overwhelmed, how she lowered her voice instead of making the situation bigger, and how she didn’t linger for praise after helping us. She returned to work, leaving me to ask when she would be there again.
Most people offer a polished version of themselves when they meet a Slade. Paige gave me her unfiltered opinion and expected me to improve.
Axel watches me over the rim of his cup. “You like her.”
“I met her once.”
“That wasn’t a denial.”
“I’m trying to decide whether she’s always that difficult.”
Rowan smiles. “She probably thinks the same thing about you.”
I can picture it: Paige behind the checkout desk, amusement in her eyes, already certain I would find a reason to come back.
Movement outside the front window catches my eye. White tents line the street for the farmers’ market, and families wander between tables carrying produce, flowers, and paper cups from Pike’s Perk.
At the library booth near the corner, Paige crouches beside a little boy while he points at a row of brightly colored books. She listens with complete focus, then says something that makes him laugh.
Her head lifts as she stands.
Even through the glass, I see the instant she recognizes me.
Then Paige smiles.
“That’s her?” Axel asks.
I keep my attention on Paige through the window. “Who?”
“The woman you’re interrogating half the town about.”
“I asked Rowan one question.”
“You asked six versions of it.”
The bell above the door saves me from responding. Sadie walks in carrying a market bag while Josie races past her with a bright yellow card. Sadie offered to take her around while Axel and I bought supplies. They have clearly covered more ground than we have.
“Dad, look!” She holds the card inches from my face. “I joined the summer reading challenge.”
I grab it before she can stick it to my nose. Empty circles wind around cartoon mountains and a dragon wearing glasses.
“How many books do you have to read?”
“Twenty. Miss Paige says chapter books count more because they take longer, but I can’t pick teeny-tiny baby books just to win faster.”
“Miss Paige sounds strict.”
“She said it’s about reading, not winning.”
“Suspicious.”
Josie giggles and pulls the card from my hand. “Come see the prizes.”
She takes hold of two of my fingers and tugs me toward the door. I glance at Axel.
“We still need fencing supplies,” he says.
“You know what we need.”
“So do you.”
“Then it’s good we’re both qualified.”
His laugh follows me outside.
Josie weaves between market tables until we reach the library booth. Paige is helping an older woman sign up for a digital library account, so I hang back while Josie studies the prizes arranged across the table.
I look back at Paige.
Her dark hair is pulled away from her face, and her short blue dress shows off her legs. My concentration evaporates. She is patient without treating the woman as helpless, and when the woman thanks her, Paige remembers her name.
She remembers Josie’s too.
“Did you show your dad your reading map?” Paige asks.
“Yes. He thinks you’re strict.”
Paige looks at me. “Your father has a problem with being told what to do.”
“I have trouble with women making accusations before I’ve had a chance to defend myself.”
“I met you two days ago. You’ve had plenty of time.”
Her mouth curves. My attention drops to it, and the quick shift in her expression tells me she notices.
Josie picks up a glittery sheet of dragon stickers. “Do I get these now?”
“When you finish five books.”
“I already read one.”
“Then you’re one book closer.”
Josie nods seriously before setting them down. “I won’t cheat.”
“I never thought you would.”
“She gets that from me,” I say.
Paige glances up. “Does she?”
“You’re committed to thinking the worst of me.”
“I think you’re used to getting your way.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
A father and two children approach the booth, forcing Paige closer as they crowd around the prize display. Her bare arm brushes mine. The brief contact leaves a hot streak across my skin, a reaction that makes no sense.
Paige’s gaze lifts to mine. The teasing in her eyes fades, replaced by the same awareness moving through me before she steps around my shoulder.
“What are you doing Friday?” I ask.
She pauses. “Reading.”
“That’s all?”
“I may also drink wine if I’m feeling reckless.”
“We’re having a cookout at the ranch. You should come.”
Slade cookouts involve too much food, several generations of family, and at least one relative deciding a guest belongs to them before dessert.
Paige studies me as if she’s deciding whether I understand what I just offered.
“Thank you, but I already have plans.”
“You said you’re reading.”
“In my hammock.”
“Where?”
“At my cabin.”
“That’s your entire plan?”
“It’s a very good hammock.”
“Sounds like a flimsy excuse.”
The amusement in her expression settles into something firmer. “It isn’t an excuse.”
“A book and a hammock?”
“Yes.”
“You’d rather do that than come to a cookout?”
“I made plans for my Friday before you asked me to change them.” Her tone stays calm, which makes the correction land harder. “They don’t become worthless because your invitation has potato salad and a famous last name attached to it.”
“I never mentioned potato salad.”
“Is there potato salad?”
“Probably.”
“Then my point stands.”
I glance at Josie, but she is busy explaining the challenge to another girl. “I wasn’t saying your plans are worthless.”
“You called them flimsy.”
“That was poorly worded.”
“That almost sounded like an apology.”
“It was as close as you’re getting.”
She lets out a soft laugh. “You might want to practice. Librarians love personal growth.”
“So that’s a no until I demonstrate some personal growth?”
“I’m turning you down because I want to spend Friday at my cabin.”
She isn’t being coy or leaving any room to negotiate. She wants her quiet night and expects me to respect it. I do, although I’m relieved those plans do not include another man.
A woman calls Paige’s name from the other side of the booth. She looks over, then takes a step away.
“I should get back to work.”
“Enjoy your hammock.”
“I will.” She gives me a slow smile. “Enjoy your potato salad, Aiden.”
It’s the first time she’s used my name.
Paige walks away before I can tell her I like the way she says it. I offered an invitation most people in town would accept without checking the date.
She chose her hammock, and I want to know what she’ll be reading in it.
By bedtime, Josie has colored in the first circle on her summer reading map and decided she deserves extra credit for finishing a book in two days.
“That circle is too small,” she says from beneath the pink blanket pulled to her chin. “Nobody can even see that I finished.”
“I can see it.”
“You already know.”
“That’s usually how reading maps work.”
She gives me the patient look of someone explaining a simple problem to a difficult adult. “People are supposed to be impressed.”
“Miss Paige said it isn’t about winning.”
“She doesn’t know about the tiny circle.”
I set the map on her nightstand and pick up the book we finished after dinner. “I’m sure she’ll be very impressed when you tell her.”
Josie turns onto her side and runs one finger over the corner of her blanket. The dragon king and queen got married on the last page, so I know what her next question will be.
“Did you and Mommy have a wedding?”
“We did.”
“Was I there?”
“You weren’t born yet.”
“Are there pictures?”
“A lot of them.”
She thinks about that. “Then why did you stop being married?”
I settle onto the edge of her bed. I knew this question would come eventually. I expected more warning than a reading map and a dragon wedding.
“Your mom and I weren’t very good at being married anymore.”
“Did you fight?”
“Sometimes.”
“About me?”
“No.” The word comes out fast enough to widen her eyes. I soften my voice. “Never because of you. We both loved you more than anything.”
“What did you fight about?”
“I worked too much. I thought that was how I took care of our family, but your mom needed me to be home more. So did you. I kept promising I would, but the work always won.”
Krista was the parent who knew Josie’s routines, made the appointments, handled the fevers, and was there when she woke up. I loved my daughter, but my schedule meant no one could see it. By the time I changed, Krista had spent too long waiting for me to change.
“Mommy got mad at you?”
“She did. She had good reasons.”
“Did she stop loving you?”
Krista and I loved each other once. By the time she filed for divorce, too much disappointment had settled between us for that love to sustain a marriage.
“We stopped loving each other as husband and wife,” I say. I smooth the blanket over her legs. “We both kept loving you, though. And we learned how to be friends again. Sometimes grown-ups can be good parents from different houses, even when they weren’t good at being married to each other.”
“Mommy was a good mommy.”
“She was the best.”
“And you’re a good daddy.”
Her certainty is a weight against all the places I’m still not sure.
“I’m working on it.”
“You come home now.”
“Every day.”
“Even when the cows are doing stuff.”
I laugh. “Cows are always doing stuff.”
“Then somebody else can fix it.”
“That’s what I finally figured out.”
She nods, satisfied that she has solved ranching, and reaches for her stuffed horse. “Is Miss Paige your friend?”
“No.”
The answer comes too quickly.
Josie’s eyebrows pull together. “You talked to her for a long time.”
“Talking to someone doesn’t make them your friend.”
“You asked her to the cookout.”
“It was just a cookout.”
“She said no.”
“She already had plans.”
“With a hammock.”
I narrow my eyes. “You heard more of that than I realized.”
“It was a very good hammock.”
That earns another laugh. “Apparently.”
Josie smiles, then picks up the library book from beside my leg and holds it out. “Miss Paige is my friend.”
“Is she now?”
“She helped me find this, and she saved the dragon stickers for when I read five books.”
“That sounds official.”
“It is.” She places the book in my hand. “We have to take this back because I’m done, and she said the next one has a baby dragon who bites everybody.”
The book isn’t due for another week. We could return it later.
Josie wants the next book, though.
Paige will be at the library.
“I guess we should return it,” I say.
“Tomorrow?”
“We’ll see.”
Josie yawns and snuggles deeper beneath her blanket. I turn off her lamp, leave the door cracked just the way she likes it, and carry the book into the living room.
Paige said her Friday plans mattered because they belonged to her. After admitting how long I ignored Krista’s needs, Paige’s correction makes a different kind of sense.
I still want to see Paige again.
This time, I have a reason tucked beneath my arm that wants a baby dragon.