Chapter Ten
Every instinct Tennessee had was to run after her, possibly tackle her to the ground, and explain to her what he’d known since pretty much the beginning.
That of course this was forever, and why did she think he was so sure about that?
But he didn’t.
He stayed where he was. He listened to her truck drive away a little too recklessly, as far as he was concerned, but he knew she’d only laugh at him if he said something like that.
And as he stood there in the airy barn that she’d transformed—using her vision of what she wanted and a whole lot of help—it was as if all the rescue dogs understood the gravity of the situation, because they quieted down like they were listening too.
“It’s okay,” Tennessee told them.
He nodded toward the one he considered the leader of the rescue pack, because he was standing apart from the rest of them like he had a higher calling.
Tennessee had learned that he was a mix of husky, obviously, and maybe some shepherd or possibly wolf.
What Tennessee knew was that he and this dog had the same eyes.
“I’ve got this,” Tennessee assured him, and after nearly two months in Matilda’s world, it didn’t feel the slightest bit strange to him that he was having a conversation with this dog. Or even that he considered it a conversation in the first place.
The dog, who Tennessee was pretty sure would be coming home with him one of these nights, whined his agreement. Then went back to his watch.
A man after his own heart, to Tennessee’s mind.
Matilda had nailed Tennessee’s issue with pets accurately, which shouldn’t have surprised him. She was pretty talented at hitting those bullseyes. He wouldn’t have thought anyone remembered the dog he’d had when he was a kid, but naturally she did.
She’d also understood that losing Angus really had ripped Tennessee’s heart out.
Angus had been the only thing that was his.
The only creature who might have looked to him, but also looked out for him.
He’d been sixteen when the puppy he’d picked out from a litter outside the market down in Marietta looked at him for the last time, pressed his grizzled, white muzzle into Tennessee’s hand, and blew out his last breath.
Maybe it wasn’t such a big shock that the very next thing Tennessee had done was rustle up some permanence. He and Kacey had made their plans. He’d decided that was what he needed to focus on, not pets.
And Matilda had divined this somehow, because she was magic like that.
She was magical, full stop.
He wasn’t sure why no one seemed to know that but him. Including her.
Tennessee walked outside and took a deep breath of the evening air. March was still delivering the cold and wet, with a snowstorm for good measure. He thought maybe a person had to be a Montana native to catch the faintest hint of spring in all that winter, but it was there. Faint, but there.
It always smelled like hope.
Tonight was a Wednesday and it was much lighter at nearly 6 PM than it had been some six weeks ago now, when he’d joined the LPL Club for its inaugural meeting. And had then found Matilda on his doorstep when he’d come home. For the second night in a row.
If it wasn’t a Wednesday night, he thought he probably would have chased her back to her cottage right now. Maybe even beaten her up the hill, given the mood he was in.
But even as he thought that, he decided he was happy that he had this commitment that he, by God, wouldn’t be the first to break.
Because he already knew what would happen if he followed her back home.
It would be what always happened. The chemistry between them only seemed to get more intense, and it took over sometimes.
Maybe too much, because it didn’t take an expert on relationships to figure out that there were some issues in need of exploring here.
Or why would a woman who spent all of her free time with a man who quite clearly doted on her tell him she loved him and then take off running?
He was going to have to think about that.
And he knew he wouldn’t get much thinking done if he chased her down now.
Still, he stood outside for a while, letting the cold settle in on him while he frowned up the hill toward the Lodge. He waited until he saw the lights go on in her cottage.
Not that seeing those lights made it any easier to get in his truck and drive back down the length of the main drag to his house so he could park it outside Mountain Mama’s. Dutifully.
But he did it.
Inside, it was the usual happy atmosphere with some old-school folk music playing from the speakers and tables full of chattering neighbors. That hint of spring was making everyone excited, he figured. But he stopped at every table he passed to say hello.
Not because he thought he was the mayor. But because he knew folks, or he’d seen them around town, or he’d heard something about them through the old-timer grapevine that sat at his counter every morning and functioned like a chorus of town criers.
If Tennessee ever had the urge to become one of the town gossips, he would put the rest of them out of a job in a hurry, because he knew everything.
But part of the reason people liked to tell him things was because he didn’t pass them on. Because they thought he was a vault. Only tonight did he consider the fact that this line of thinking wasn’t necessarily because they thought he was so circumspect and honorable.
It was probably because they didn’t think he had anybody to talk to, because he generally didn’t let anyone near enough to know if he was close to people or not.
And it didn’t take any acrobatics to consider the possibility that the woman he was sleeping with might not realize that he felt close to her. Because he hadn’t told her that he did, had he?
He’d actually gone out of his way not to say anything that could be construed as too clingy, because this was Matilda. And one thing that had always seemed to be true about her was that she was blown by the wind this way and that.
Who was he to try to trap her in one place?
And now she was running from him because she thought he didn’t love her.
But this wasn’t the time to do anything about that.
Not here, in public. Certainly not on Wednesdays.
So with the strange drumbeat of something like anxiety that kicked in whenever he considered that she might really have the completely wrong impression of his intentions, he went and sat down at the table with his brothers and sisters.
He figured it would be a reprieve at the very least.
“So when exactly did you and Matilda Stark get so tight?” Cat asked, before his butt even hit the chair.
He scowled at her and she lifted her shoulder.
“Wilder says that Rosie got them all down to that barn to help out the other day. Moving animals down from her cottage. And there was a lot of talk about how much help you were giving the project.” She turned her gaze to Dallas, who made no attempt whatsoever to muzzle his laugh.
“Because Tennessee is known for his deep concern about the welfare of animals. That’s really been one of the foremost preoccupations of his life so far. ”
“He’s basically a cat lady,” Dallas murmured.
The Patricks couldn’t join in with the same relish—yet, anyway—but they were all watching with avid interest.
Tennessee smiled blandly at his sister. “As a matter of fact, I’m thinking I might adopt one of Matilda’s rescue dogs. He looks like a wolf. I hope he’ll bite you.”
Cat put a hand over her heart and fluttered her eyelashes. “Tennessee Lisle. Is that levity? Are you turning into a human being? What on earth could have made you a real boy after all this time?”
“I don’t know if I’m a real boy,” he drawled, “but I sure am real hungry. I think it’s your turn to put the order in, Catalina. If that’s not too much trouble.”
She rolled her eyes, but she stood up. And Tennessee could feel Dallas’s eyes on him when Cat went off to the counter. But the conversation moved on.
Mercifully.
“Think I’m going to stay a while,” Finn was saying, sitting back in his chair and already looking like he fit in here, to Tennessee’s mind. “I like it here, and I’m reliably informed that if I like a winter in a place this far up in the mountains, I owe it to myself to see the summer.”
“The summer here is outstanding,” Helena assured him.
“But if I decide to do that,” Finn said, and he raised an eyebrow at his siblings. “And that’s a big if, I’m not sleeping on your couch, Helena. So we’ll have to see if there are any rentals around.”
“That’s the beauty of having a trailer,” Raleigh drawled. “I never have to worry about outstaying my welcome.”
“You literally ate everything in my refrigerator.” Helena glared at him. “Twice this week alone.”
“And you’ve made Mom cook you dinner almost every night,” Finn chimed in. “Like you’re twelve years old.”
Raleigh, who in no way whatsoever resembled an innocent twelve-year-old boy, sat there in his chair, boneless and unbothered. With a grin. “It’s all about nostalgia.”
“You don’t have a nostalgic bone in your body,” Helena argued.
Raleigh grinned across the table at Dallas and Tennessee.
“That’s true. But my mother sure does.” He looked back at Helena and Finn.
“Maybe you two are too busy with your heads up your asses to notice, but Mom likes being here. She likes us all together. She likes the idea of this big happy family. So if she wants to cook me food? I’m going to eat it. ”
“What a martyr,” Helena murmured, with the roll of her eyes.
But it was all good-natured, Tennessee thought. He could tell because they were all grinning at each other—a marked difference from his childhood. And very likely theirs, too.
Cat came back and dispensed the usual drinks, then announced that their weekly order was going in the oven. Then she flopped back down in her chair, and Tennessee looked around at this full set of siblings. Brothers. Sisters.
A real family.