Balancing Act, page 17
Willow groaned and rolled her eyes. Noah wore a satisfied grin as he shut her door. She started the engine, shifted into gear, and drove away from his home. As if she’d be able to think about anything other than that kiss for the next, oh, millennia.
Truth be told, she was feeling a little gobsmacked. Not by the kiss itself. That hadn’t come as a complete surprise. If she were honest with herself, she might have come here today looking for it.
Because… he’d been about to kiss her on the dance floor.
She’d known her mother was no Mrs. Robinson. Had Genevieve been attempting to play matchmaker by sending her to Noah with her passion comment? Maybe. Willow had made herself fair game to this sort of stuff from her mother when she invited Noah to the wedding. Nor could Willow have explained that he was Drew’s guest as much as hers. Her mother wouldn’t have bought it.
She wasn’t sure that she had bought it herself.
As she pulled onto the highway leading into town, her heart raced like a horse at Churchill Downs.
“Calm down,” she lectured herself. He’d warned her off, hadn’t he? He wanted to be friends. Just friends. Okay. Well, she’d meant what she’d said. She needed a friend a lot more than she needed, well, more. But my, oh, my. That kiss. Noah Tannehill’s kiss.
So he had baggage. She had a baggage car. A baggage train. A baggage aircraft carrier.
Wonder what his baggage was all about? Maybe if they became better friends, she’d find out.
Wonder what he thought about friends with kiss benefits? Just kissing. Necking. Making out. Good grief. What was she, twelve?
More like sixteen and hormonal. Besides, judging by the rate at which the kiss had heated up, it would go way beyond kissing seriously fast.
She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. She wasn’t a teenager anymore. She was thirty-three and sex-starved.
Somebody ought to write a song about that. Maybe somebody already had. If not a song, there was undoubtedly a Cosmo article about it. Although, maybe Cosmo was for younger women. She didn’t know. She hadn’t looked at a women’s magazine since Emma was born, and she’d had to deal with two kids while standing in the checkout line at the grocery store. Even before that, she’d gravitated toward House Beautiful instead of Woman Beautiful, which was probably why Andy ended up with “Bimbo Beautiful.”
Do. Not. Go. There. She absolutely would not ruin this lovely moment with Noah by bringing that… that… baggage into it.
So, she turned on her music and picked a classic rock playlist as she completed the trip to pick up her children, enjoying the hum of life in her blood that lasted for the rest of the day.
On Thursday, Willow returned to their prewedding morning routine with schoolwork for Drew and activities for Emma. Her daughter was busy creating a forest full of pipe-cleaner animals while Drew and Willow tackled multiplication at the kitchen table. Then, the sound of tires crunching on gravel drifted through the open windows and announced a visitor’s arrival.
“Someone’s here!” Drew said, looking up with delight. He set down his pencil.
“Don’t even think about it. Back to work, kiddo.” Willow rose and walked toward the front room as a knock sounded on the door.
“It’s me,” called Aunt Helen.
“Come in.”
The door swung open, and Helen blew inside. After greeting the children and getting hugs, she spoke to Willow. “I know it’s a school day. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I only need a few minutes. I have a couple of things out in the golf cart I’d like to show you if you can steal a minute.”
“Sure we can!” Drew piped up.
“You sit right back in your chair,” Willow said to her son. She smiled at Helen. “Always good to see you, Auntie. Drew is working on his own right now, anyway. Emma, want to take a break and play outside for a few minutes?”
“Can I bring my animals?”
“You may. Put them in a grocery sack, and they’ll be easier to carry.”
“Okay,” Emma replied.
Drew whined. “But Mom—”
Willow cut her son off with a Don’t start look. Emma scrambled down from her chair, pulled a plastic sack from a cabinet, and loaded it up with pipe cleaners. Then Emma and Willow followed Aunt Helen outside.
One of Raindrop Lodge’s electric utility vehicles sat in the circular drive at the front of the cabin. Willow saw that the vehicle’s bed contained several signs as Emma dashed toward the woods opposite the house. She called, “I’m going to put my animals in the woods, Mama.”
“Okay. Just don’t go beyond the play area.”
“I won’t!”
As Emma scampered off, Aunt Helen turned to Willow and asked, “What in the world is your mother doing in New Mexico?”
“You don’t know?”
“No. I haven’t talked to her. I missed a call from her on Monday, but she left a voice mail saying she was going to New Mexico for ten days. She didn’t say why, and she hasn’t returned my calls or texts other than to text back saying she arrived safe and sound and would call when she came home.”
“That’s good to know. I’ve been a little worried about that.”
“So what’s the skinny?”
“She’s taking a drawing class at an artists’ colony. She wants to find her passion.”
Aunt Helen’s jaw dropped. A wounded look fluttered across her eyes. “Without me?”
Willow didn’t know how to respond to that, so she tried changing the subject. “What do you want to show me?”
“I’m canvassing votes.”
“Already? That was fast.”
“For my logo. I had Sylvia Lawrence do a mock-up, and these are my choices. I like the graphics of all three, and I’ll probably use them all, but I need to settle on a color palette. I can’t make up my mind.”
“Hmm.” Willow picked up the top sign and studied it. The words MCDANIEL FOR MAYOR were fashioned in the four colors of the Colorado state flag—blue, red, white, and gold. A second version was done in American red, white, and blue. Willow eyed the third and asked, “I love the white and lavender, but do the colors represent something?”
“The state flower. The columbine.”
“Oh yes. Well, it’s probably my favorite, but I think the Colorado flag colors are a stronger message.”
“Good point. Thank you, sweetheart. So, tell me more about your mom and this artists’ colony.”
Willow sighed, but recognizing the terrier aspect of her aunt’s character, she knew she might as well spill all her beans. Well, some of her beans. She wasn’t ready to talk about Noah with her aunt. She gave her a recap of what she knew, including the Maserati, which had Aunt Helen’s eyes bugging wide. Willow said, “I think Mom needs a new interest, and she’s thinking art might be it.”
Aunt Helen had a hint of sulk in her voice when she said, “Good for her. I’m glad, except I don’t know why she had to do that right now. I need her to be my campaign manager.”
“Oh wow.” The idea of it made Willow grin. “The Bennett girls are large and in charge, hmm? Lake in the Clouds will never be the same.”
“That’s the idea. Ol’ Nelson should have told his nephew to give me my stop sign the first time I asked, and we could have avoided all of this. Now I’m going to take his job, break up his little kingdom, and send all his little princes and princesses home. But I need help to do it.” She paused and eyed Willow speculatively. “Wait a minute. What was I thinking? You’re a professional planner. You can be my campaign manager! You’re staying in Lake in the Clouds, aren’t you? You’re not moving back to Nashville?”
“Mo-om!” Drew shot from the cabin door like a bullet. “I finished my worksheet. We’re done for the day, right?”
Saved by the hot rod, Willow thought. “Wrong. But you can have a five-minute recess.”
“You’re such a meanie,” Aunt Helen said, her eyes twinkling.
“True. But we still have a geography lesson to do.”
“Then I won’t keep you. Just tell me you’re not going to move back to Tennessee and break your mother’s heart. You’ll make a fabulous campaign manager.”
“I love you, Auntie, but I can’t be your campaign manager. My plate is full, and your instincts were right, to begin with. Mom is the right woman for that job. Now, I think you’d be smart to send her a text today asking her to take the position so that when she finally turns her phone on, she’ll see it before she plans another self-discovery journey.”
“Another one?” Helen’s eyes went round and wide. “She’s doing something else?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
Aunt Helen’s expression grew troubled. “I thought the campaign would be something your mom and I could work on together. It seems like I’ve hardly seen her since we returned from our Germany trip in December. I miss her.”
“Aw, Auntie.” Willow reached over and gave her aunt a hug. “Tell her that. I know she missed you, too, while you were on your South Pacific trip. She had a serious case of FOMO.”
“Hmm.” Helen shrugged, not yet appeased.
Willow encouraged her with a smile. “Just when is this election?”
“The end of August. The twenty-sixth.”
“Well, I’m not going to manage your campaign, but you can count on me to be a volunteer.”
That obviously caught her aunt’s interest. “So you are staying in Colorado?”
“I need to talk to Mom about it before I decide. I want to be certain that this would be right for Mom, too. After all, she moved to Colorado to start a new life.” Willow’s heart gave a little twist as she gave voice to the doubt that had been niggling at her mind. “I don’t know if it’s right for her old life to follow her.”
Helen opened her mouth, then shut it. Then she opened it again and closed it again without saying a word. This was very unlike Aunt Helen.
Willow’s stomach sank. “Okay, say it. What has Mom told you?”
Helen shook her head. “No. It’s not that. Not her. Your mom hasn’t said anything. It was me.” She drew a deep breath, then exhaled loudly. “What can I say? I acted like a green-eyed teenager. I got jealous of all the time your mother was spending with Drew and Emma. She went all ‘supernana’ on me, and I felt left out.”
“Oh, Auntie.” Willow caught her breath at her own blindness. She’d never thought about the situation from Helen’s point of view. How many times had Willow’s mother canceled on her sister to help care for her grandchildren? “I’m so sorry.”
Helen held up her hand, palm out. “No, I was wrong.”
“You were right.” And this was one more thing to add to the list of things to talk about with her mother. “That’s why I’ll wait and have a long, heart-to-heart talk with Mom before I decide where the kids and I will settle.”
“She’ll want you here.”
“Yes, I think you’re probably right. But it needs to be the right thing for all of us. I want us all to be comfortable. I’ll promise you this. If the kids and I end up here, there will be a lot more Genevieve time to balance out the nana time. I didn’t see what was happening before. I do now.”
“You’re a good girl, Willow Eldridge. And please, believe me when I say I’m delighted you’re going to stay in Lake in the Clouds.”
“We’re probably going to stay. We’ll need to find a place to live, of course, and I need to do something about daycare over the summer. I’m not going to homeschool next year. It’s way too much work.”
“Y’all can stay here in Cabin 17,” Aunt Helen said quickly. “We’re in no rush to list it for rental.”
“That’s bad business, Auntie.”
“It is family. I know you’ll want a place of your own eventually, but you take your time finding the right place. Find the best neighborhood for the children. Oh, Willow. This will make your mother so happy—if she ever tears herself away from naked men.”
“Naked men?”
“You said it’s a drawing class, didn’t you? Surely they’ll be studying the human form. What sort of lame drawing class would it be otherwise?”
“Oh, Auntie.”
Helen winked and called, “Drew? Emma? I’m leaving. Give me a hug and tell your mother to bring you to the lodge for lunch because it’s pizza day.”
“Pizza day!” Drew yelled.
“Pizza day!” his sister repeated. Both children darted from the forest and ran to give Auntie Helen her hug.
After the geography lesson and a science unit that involved a walk through the woods looking for beetles, Willow herded the children up to the lodge, where Helen convinced Willow—easily—to allow her to sub for Nana and take the kids into town to swim in her condo’s indoor pool. She also handed Willow two cards. The first was for the real estate agent who’d helped Willow’s mom buy her house. The second card advertised a business belonging to the daughter of Raindrop Lodge’s accountant—Little Ducklings Daycare.
Willow went back home and called them both.
Chapter Nine
NOAH’S HEAD WAS STILL spinning from kissing Willow when Gage Throckmorton dropped by the Hideaway to discuss replacing the fence that separated their properties. Noah jumped at the chance for some physical labor and declared himself ready to work the following morning.
Gage was skeptical. He intended to have a couple of his ranch hands do the job. But Noah’s leg was back to 80 or maybe even 85 percent, and he thought that fence building would be as good physical therapy as what his PT guy had him doing. He insisted that he do half the labor and pay half the expenses.
He was shocked as hell when the boss man himself showed up Friday morning with a UTV loaded with supplies.
The first day he and Gage worked together, they hadn’t done much talking beyond what was necessary for the job. By the end of the second day, Noah called the man friend.
Gage somehow got Noah to open up. In the beginning, their conversation revolved around typical stuff—sports, favorite brews and whiskeys, and barbecue methods. Then almost without Noah’s notice, the sly older man began slipping in questions. Before he realized it, Noah had revealed how he’d injured his leg.
“A firefighter, huh?” Gage had said. “I have a lot of respect for you guys. Takes big balls to go into a burning building.”
“Former firefighter,” Noah shot back. “I’m not going back.”
“Physical disability?”
Noah wouldn’t lie about that. Nor was he inclined to offer an explanation. He said simply, “I’m ready for a change.”
Gage let a long moment pass before he shrugged and changed the subject to barbed wire.
Noah was happy to discuss fencing. He didn’t owe the rancher any details about his injury or the events surrounding it. Yet he chewed on the exchange for the rest of the afternoon, and when he finally swallowed it, it sat in his stomach like sour milk. So when they finished working for the night and Gage dropped him off at home, Noah found himself spewing his guts. “I’m dealing with some PTSD. Had a fire get tricky on us. Lost some folks.”
“Damn. That’s rough.” Gage clapped him on the shoulder. “Like I said before, I have nothing but respect for firefighters. So, you up for another day mending a fence?”
“I reckon so.”
“Tomorrow is Sunday. The only work I want to do is haul supplies. Bring your fishing gear. We’ll be near my favorite fishing spot on the Triple T. Since we’re not drawing wages for our work, I figure we’ve earned a day on the creek, don’t you?”
“I won’t argue against it.” Noah grabbed his work bag from the back of the UTV, then posed the same question he’d asked of Gage at the end of the past two days. “Hey, Throckmorton. Don’t you need a puppy?”
“No, Tannehill. I damned sure don’t.”
As was his habit, Noah headed first to his workshop to tend to Marigold and the pups. After that task, he went inside, showered, and threw together something for dinner. He was hungry. This physical work had given him a better appetite than he’d had in months.
He decided to drag out the Crock-Pot and make something more substantial for his evening meals from here on out.
Sunday morning, Gage gave Noah the option to ride along with a ranch hand on the UTV loaded with fencing supplies or use one of the Triple T’s horses and accompany Gage on horseback. Noah liked to ride, and he judged his leg was ready to handle it, so he accompanied the rancher. They spent two hours positioning supplies along the fence line, then headed for Gage’s fishing spot.
In a state filled with breathtaking vistas, this one had to rank among the top ten. A rainbow of spring wildflowers carpeted a meadow ringed by towering, snowcapped mountains. A frothy, bubbling creek wound its way through the center of the field. It was hands down one of the most beautiful spots Noah had ever seen.
“What a hidden gem,” he said.
“Isn’t it? Our family is blessed. Now, let’s get to work and catch us some lunch, shall we?”
The trout all but jumped onto Noah’s flies, and he caught his limit within the first hour: three brown trout and a rainbow. Gage struck out but didn’t seem to care, especially once Noah offered to share his catch for their lunch.
“Honestly, I like the casting as much as the catching,” Gage told him when he sat around the fire Noah had built. “There’s something so relaxing about getting a line wet, don’t you think?”
“I totally agree.” Noah handed over two of the trout he’d cooked in the foil pouches with seasonings Gage had brought along.
“Thanks. Doesn’t seem right that I let you catch, clean, and cook, and now I’m gonna eat half of what there is.”
“Hey, it’s your creek. Your slice of heaven. I’m thrilled you’ve shared it with me. This has to be one of the prettiest spots in the state.”
“It was my late wife’s favorite spot on the ranch. Emily and I talked about building a getaway up here. Came close to doing it a time or two, but when it came right down to it, we liked it unspoiled. Decided this little campsite would do us.”
They ate their fish in silence but for a couple of smacks and hums of pleasure. Seasoned simply with butter, onion, salt, and pepper and baked in foil pouches over the fire, the fish was five-star cuisine.
