problem for Will because Willie was not a name most adult men prefer to be called.
“Will asked Ryan to help him build a doghouse,” her father said.
Marsha pretended she hadn’t overheard their conversation. “When?”
“Tomorrow,” Ryan said. “You’re invited, too.”
“Sounds like fun,” she said.
“Are you going to come with me?” Ryan asked.
“I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I can pound a nail or two,” Marsha said.
“We’ll finish this game later,” her father said. “I need to rest.”
Marsha blocked Ryan when he tried to follow his grandfather out of the room. “How come you didn’t tell me that Will invited you to the farm?”
He dropped his gaze and scuffed his shoe against the floor.
“Talk to me, Ryan. What’s going through your mind?”
“I don’t think he likes me.”
“Will?”
Ryan nodded.
“What makes you say that?”
“When I couldn’t pull out the wire, he said it was easy.”
Now she understood why Ryan had remained holed up inside the house the rest of the week while Ben and Will worked.
“You should help build the doghouse,” she said. “Besides, you love dogs.”
“I guess we can go.”
It hadn’t taken much effort to sway Ryan, and Marsha hoped that meant he was considering giving Will a chance. “Set your alarm for eight-thirty. I want you to eat breakfast before we leave.” Marsha poked him in the shoulder and teased, “I heard building a doghouse is strenuous work.”
Ryan’s mouth twitched as he struggled to contain a smile when he walked from the room. If she didn’t know better, she’d believe he was looking forward to tomorrow.
Marsha, on the other hand, had mixed feelings about spending an entire day with Will. She worried that the crush she’d had on him all those years ago hadn’t died. She’d counted on the physical attraction being there between them but not the vulnerability in Will’s brown gaze that tugged at her heartstrings.
That she definitely hadn’t counted on.
Chapter Six
“Uncle Will?”
“What?” Will stopped sketching the plans for the doghouse and waited for Javier to speak.
“Is there gonna be room for Bandit’s bed in there?”
“How big is his bed?”
The screen door banged against the side of the house and Miguel stepped onto the porch, carrying a massive dog pillow twice the size of him. Will rushed forward and took the pillow before the kid tripped and fell down the steps.
“You guys spoil Bandit.” The twins must have talked their father into buying the Great Dane-size pillow. Conway was a softie when it came to the twins.
Will made a few tweaks to his sketch. “The pillow will be a tight fit, but I think it will work.” He tried to envision himself as a father when Ryan had been the twins’ age, but he couldn’t. At twenty-four he’d been riding the rodeo circuit and working odd jobs to cover his entry fees. He wouldn’t have made his son a priority.
The sound of a car engine met his ears and the boys raced across the yard, Bandit trailing behind them. Marsha’s SUV came into view and as soon as she saw the kids, she slowed the car to a crawl.
Will’s heart hammered inside his chest. He’d worked at the church all week and was used to seeing Marsha come and go but he hadn’t spent an entire day with her. He was nervous—not because it was difficult to hide the fact that he found her attractive, but because he didn’t feel like he was her equal. She’d gone to college and bettered herself while he remained behind and became a construction worker.
“Good morning,” Marsha said after she got out of the car.
Will opened his mouth to speak but the words froze in his throat when the passenger-side door opened and Pastor Bugler stepped into view. “Pastor,” Will said.
“William.”
“’Morning, Ryan,” Will said. The teen lifted a hand in greeting. Will motioned to the twins standing with him. “Javier and Miguel, this is my son, Ryan, his mother, Ms.
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