“If only I could be so lucky. I scheduled this meeting to turn in my resignation, but I didn’t bring it, after all.”
“Come on into the kitchen. I fixed us each a sandwich.”
“Henri, you didn’t have to—”
“It’s not often I get to have lunch with one of my boys. If there’s a chance you’ll be moving on this year, spending time with you is even more precious. I opened a couple of virgin ciders since we’re still on the clock.”
“Yeah, I may never drink again.” He followed her into her sunny kitchen. “I love this room.” In the early days, they’d had many talks here—Henri alone or Henri and Charley, a double dose of parental wisdom.
“It’s my favorite room in the house.” She waved him over to a round table that looked out on the backyard. The places were set and the food and drink waiting. “Have a seat.”
He laughed. “Still testing me, are you?” He walked to her side and pulled out her chair. “If you please, ma’am.”
She winked at him and slid onto the chair. “Well done. I’ve been told these gestures are old-fashioned, but Charley believed in them, too. When you boys carry on the tradition, it’s like I still have a little bit of him with me.”
“I can’t think of a better reason to keep it up.” He scooted her in and took the chair opposite her.
She put her napkin in her lap. “You were going to hand in your resignation. Does that mean you started job-hunting in Seattle?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He settled into the familiar routine of eating a meal with Henri. Cloth napkin in his lap, he waited for her to start. “Got a couple of good responses.”
“What’s your plan, now?” She picked up her sandwich.
“That depends.” He’d skipped breakfast and he was starving. But he managed to keep from wolfing down the sandwich.
“On what?”
“Whether Rafe and Nick are right that I’m on the musical program tonight.”
She blinked. “You definitely are. Didn’t you hear me say that last night?”
“Sorry. I was…my mind was on other things.”
“You’re still doing it, I hope.”
“Yes, ma’am. In fact, it might be my last chance to change Izzy’s mind.”
Chapter Thirty-One
What a horrible night. Groggy and disoriented, Isabel dragged herself out of bed when light sifted through the break in the curtains. She slipped into the white terry guest robe she’d grown to love and ground beans for coffee. After brewing a cup in her French press, she padded barefoot out to the porch, leaving the door open so she’d hear her phone.
Sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs didn’t provide the relaxation she craved. Instead she paced the cool porch floor and paused along the way to sip her coffee.
Tire tracks in the dirt parking area in front of her cabin could be from any number of trucks that had pulled in here this week. But some were from CJ’s. She’d finally figured out last night that he wouldn’t leave until she’d doused the lights.
When she couldn’t hear the rumble of the engine anymore, she’d walked out to the porch and let the evening breeze dry her cheeks. No telling how long she’d stayed out there listening to the crickets.
Not just crickets, either. A couple of owls had carried on a back-and-forth and she’d swear a wolf had howled in the distance.
She’d fought the urge to go down the steps and walk the grounds, but she hadn’t gathered enough knowledge about this unfamiliar land to walk alone at night with confidence.
Lucy had. She’d acclimated beautifully to the ranch and its wonders. The cabin she and Matt were building would be a remote haven for her artist’s soul. She’d told thrilling stories about coming across bears, bobcats, and a slow-moving porcupine during her rambles.
CJ must have encountered his share of critters, too. She’d never asked about it, but he must have stories as fascinating as Lucy’s. He might not have volunteered the information because it was second nature to him. He clearly had no idea how perfectly he blended into his environment.
Her phone chimed with Naomi’s ring. Good time to check on her big sister—before the shop opened and after the sexy cowboy had left for work.
Pain radiated through her. He’d be on the job by now, partnering with one or two members of the Brotherhood, maybe getting some comfort and advice while they shared the morning’s tasks.
She stepped inside and picked up her phone from the table by the window. “Hi, sis.”
“Hi, yourself! So far your flight time hasn’t changed. I have the shop covered so I can pick you up. Can’t wait to see you!”
“Same here, squirt.”
“You haven’t called me that in years.”
“I haven’t?”
“No, and your voice sounds weird. Have you been crying?”
“Not recently.”
“What’s wrong?”
She sighed. “I don’t think there’s enough time to—”
“Talk fast. It’s CJ, isn’t it?”
“He got this dumb idea he should move to Seattle, but—”
“Move here?” Her voice squeaked.
“I can’t let him. This is where he belongs, where he shines. If he relocated, he’d lose…his CJ-ness. He wouldn’t be the same person. He wouldn’t be the guy I fell in love with. He—”
“Iz, you’re sobbing.”
“No, I’m not!” She fumbled in the pocket of her robe. No tissue. She used the sash to mop her eyes. Blowing her nose on it would be gross, though.
“You’re crying your eyes out because you’re hopelessly in love with your child’s father. That’s wonderful and horrible at the same time.”
“I know! Hang on. I need a tissue.”
“Oh, I’m hanging on. What are you going to do?”
“Get a tissue.” She plucked several from the box in the bathroom and blew her nose one-handed.
“I meant about CJ.”
“Nothing. I’m flying out of here tomorrow and I’ll keep all our communications about the baby short and impersonal from now on.”
“That’s bullshit, sis.”
“I have no choice. He can’t live with me in Seattle. He’s determined and optimistic about doing it, but…I can’t bear to watch
