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Authors: Rachael Herron
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to examine.
“I think only a month or two.” Janet leaned forward across the table. “She said the sex was amazing. But that doesn’t surprise me. He looks like sex on a stick. Or on a horse. Or in the sticks. Whatever quaint phrase they use out here.”
“These aren’t really the sticks anymore, I don’t think.”
“They’ll always be the sticks, darling. But they’re my sticks. So anyway, the sex was amazing, and she said she was tres smitten, and she dreamed of a ring and wearing bandanas at the wedding. Then he pulled the hay out from under her, and she was left crying on my doorstep. Isn’t that just the way?”
“I can see it. He’s seems, rather…callous.”
“Mmm. Do I sense a note of interest, my little one?”
“Absolutely not. The opposite, in fact. I don’t like him at all. But I have to live with him for a while.”
Janet waved away a water refill and leaned in again. “This just got good. What do you mean?”
“I got the cottage, but it has no water.”
“How awful.”
“And it might have rats.”
Janet went pale. “Darlin,…”
“It for damn sure has bats.”
“Abigail! You can’t live there.”
“You’re right, I can’t live there until it’s cleaned out and fixed up, and then it’ll be just fine. Wonderful, even. But I have no idea how long that’s going to take. In the meantime, I’m living in Cade’s house.”
“Tremendous.” Janet clapped her hands. “Fantastic!”
“Do you think so?” Abigail paused and knit a few stitches. “I mean, Cade, he may be the local heartbreaker and all, but…”
She didn’t need to put it into words. Janet said, her voice soft, “Cade is just a good old local boy who looks good in his jeans. He may break hearts, but he’d never hurt anyone. I’ve dated three of the local deputies: I’d know if he was a bad guy. And he’s Eliza’s nephew.”
Abigail nodded. “That’s what I thought. All right, change of subject. I’ve found something today, in the cottage.”
“Tell. Ropes and chains?”
“It’s a gigantic mess, totally crammed full of stuff that looked like trash. Boxes everywhere. But the boxes are full of fiber and spinning wheels. And who knows what all else is in there?”
Janet raised her eyebrows.
“Think about it!” said Abigail. “Eliza Carpenter’s treasure trove. Do you know how many people in this country would freak out if they found out they could come to her home and use her things, take classes, perhaps?”
“They are passionate about her, yes.”
“She’s a religion. I think I could use this to jump-start my little workshop, my class space. I think that’s what she meant me to do.”
“So it’s all yours?”
“Yes. I’m just not sure how Cade’ll feel about having something like that on, or near, his land.”
“Look at you, love. He’ll give you anything you want.”
“I don’t think so. He thought he was going to get everything.”
“He shouldn’t have assumed.”
“I would have, too. I feel kind of sorry for him.”
Janet reached over and patted Abigail’s cheek. “That’s why I’m the businesswoman, darling, and you’re the writer. Now, tell me when I can come see this little ranch.”
Chapter Ten
While you cast on all those stitches for the body, have someone tell you a lively story. Even better, make them count the stitches for you.
— E.C.
A bigail spent the next week settling into a routine. The house division was working: she rarely saw Cade, and if she did, it was only from a distance. He didn’t seem to notice her at all. He didn’t even glance in her direction if he passed through the kitchen while she was at the sink. He went to bed much earlier than she did, and she was surprised, when she sat in the parlor to read or knit, how companionable the house felt, knowing he was asleep upstairs. It felt more like home than any place she’d been since her mother died. And even if Cade couldn’t stand her, his cat, Duncan, seemed to like her
“I think only a month or two.” Janet leaned forward across the table. “She said the sex was amazing. But that doesn’t surprise me. He looks like sex on a stick. Or on a horse. Or in the sticks. Whatever quaint phrase they use out here.”
“These aren’t really the sticks anymore, I don’t think.”
“They’ll always be the sticks, darling. But they’re my sticks. So anyway, the sex was amazing, and she said she was tres smitten, and she dreamed of a ring and wearing bandanas at the wedding. Then he pulled the hay out from under her, and she was left crying on my doorstep. Isn’t that just the way?”
“I can see it. He’s seems, rather…callous.”
“Mmm. Do I sense a note of interest, my little one?”
“Absolutely not. The opposite, in fact. I don’t like him at all. But I have to live with him for a while.”
Janet waved away a water refill and leaned in again. “This just got good. What do you mean?”
“I got the cottage, but it has no water.”
“How awful.”
“And it might have rats.”
Janet went pale. “Darlin,…”
“It for damn sure has bats.”
“Abigail! You can’t live there.”
“You’re right, I can’t live there until it’s cleaned out and fixed up, and then it’ll be just fine. Wonderful, even. But I have no idea how long that’s going to take. In the meantime, I’m living in Cade’s house.”
“Tremendous.” Janet clapped her hands. “Fantastic!”
“Do you think so?” Abigail paused and knit a few stitches. “I mean, Cade, he may be the local heartbreaker and all, but…”
She didn’t need to put it into words. Janet said, her voice soft, “Cade is just a good old local boy who looks good in his jeans. He may break hearts, but he’d never hurt anyone. I’ve dated three of the local deputies: I’d know if he was a bad guy. And he’s Eliza’s nephew.”
Abigail nodded. “That’s what I thought. All right, change of subject. I’ve found something today, in the cottage.”
“Tell. Ropes and chains?”
“It’s a gigantic mess, totally crammed full of stuff that looked like trash. Boxes everywhere. But the boxes are full of fiber and spinning wheels. And who knows what all else is in there?”
Janet raised her eyebrows.
“Think about it!” said Abigail. “Eliza Carpenter’s treasure trove. Do you know how many people in this country would freak out if they found out they could come to her home and use her things, take classes, perhaps?”
“They are passionate about her, yes.”
“She’s a religion. I think I could use this to jump-start my little workshop, my class space. I think that’s what she meant me to do.”
“So it’s all yours?”
“Yes. I’m just not sure how Cade’ll feel about having something like that on, or near, his land.”
“Look at you, love. He’ll give you anything you want.”
“I don’t think so. He thought he was going to get everything.”
“He shouldn’t have assumed.”
“I would have, too. I feel kind of sorry for him.”
Janet reached over and patted Abigail’s cheek. “That’s why I’m the businesswoman, darling, and you’re the writer. Now, tell me when I can come see this little ranch.”
Chapter Ten
While you cast on all those stitches for the body, have someone tell you a lively story. Even better, make them count the stitches for you.
— E.C.
A bigail spent the next week settling into a routine. The house division was working: she rarely saw Cade, and if she did, it was only from a distance. He didn’t seem to notice her at all. He didn’t even glance in her direction if he passed through the kitchen while she was at the sink. He went to bed much earlier than she did, and she was surprised, when she sat in the parlor to read or knit, how companionable the house felt, knowing he was asleep upstairs. It felt more like home than any place she’d been since her mother died. And even if Cade couldn’t stand her, his cat, Duncan, seemed to like her
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