Erica tried not to breathe too deeply. The smell of cigarette smoke and mold hung heavy in the air. “I think we can skip this and move on to the next.”
“The house is crap, but the property’s one of the best in the valley.”
“My brother’s not interested in something he can’t move into within weeks. I wouldn’t let my dog live here.” If she had a dog.
The next place wasn’t much better. The river frontage was larger, but the way the thick stand of trees along the bank twisted through the property would work against a wind turbine. The house was nicer, but not by much.
Discouraged, Erica scowled in the passenger seat as they made their way back to Hailey and the last property on her list. Smyth didn’t even try to talk to her anymore. She’d answered his irritating questions with a simple yes or no. She didn’t want to make small talk with a nosy realtor. She didn’t want to live in the Godforsaken valley at all.
Smyth turned at an intersection with a Dairy Barn on the corner. Erica’s stomach rumbled and she coughed to hide it. She didn’t want him to suggest stopping again. She hoped to be on the road back home within the hour. “Where’s the last one?”
“Six miles up. They call this Rifle Road. The last property has a nicer house, that’s for sure. One level, as requested. Updated about two years ago by the seller. The property needs some work.”
“What kind of work?” Erica asked.
“Mending fences, cleaning pastures. The owner had some horses, a couple of cows, but not enough to keep the place at its peak.”
“Trees?”
He pointed out the side window. “Cottonwoods along the riverbank, but other than that, not many.”
He slowed and turned onto a paved road, then turned again onto a deeply rutted gravel road. They bounced in the cab, his Coke fizzing from the jerky movements. When he pulled into an overgrown lot, she sucked in a breath. “Is this it?”
“The road needs some work—”
“You think?” she said under her breath and held onto the door handle when the truck rocked side to side.
“But the house is good. It’s got everything your brother requested: land, river, one-story house. It’s also got a barn, an irrigation circle, and an enclosed hay barn.”
“Yippee,” she mocked. “Where’s the house?”
“Just up ahead along the river.”
When they cleared the bend in the road, the structure appeared. No wonder she hadn’t seen it; the house blended into the trees and earth as though it had taken root and grown there. She got out of the truck and stood where she’d landed, admiring the wide, covered front porch and wagon wheel bench in front. “Let’s hope it looks as good inside as it does out.”
Smyth held open the carved front door. “I think you’ll like it.”
After the last two houses, it smelled as clean as her bathroom did whenever she scrubbed the tiles on her hands and knees. Erica loved things neat and clean. The wooden floors were scarred from use but clean and shiny. The counters, some fancy stone like Jack had in his condo, gave the kitchen a warm glow. She tried to envision the rooms with furniture and personal things. Her mind was full of decorating when Smyth cleared his throat.
“The master’s on one side.” He led her down a short hallway past a floor-to-ceiling fireplace and into a large bedroom. “The bath has a Jacuzzi tub and separate shower. Good sized closet.” She followed him past the kitchen, through the den, and into another hallway. “Other two bedrooms in here.”
She stuck her head in each smaller room and the hall bath they shared.
This is it
, she thought as she ran her fingers along the walls looking for nail holes or signs of water damage. She needed to play it cool so Jack would have a leg to stand on when negotiating. “How about the land? How many acres?” He opened a glass door off the kitchen and waved her through. The stone porch sat a few dozen feet from the river. “Nice view.”
“This property is just shy of 200 acres. Nice long stretch of river, 3,000 feet or so, and very senior water rights.”
“Why’d somebody fix it up so nice and let the land go to pot?”
“Old man Cuthbert messed up his leg about eight or nine years ago in a tractor accident. Messed it up real good. Hasn’t farmed in probably five, going on six years now. He and his wife decided to move up north to be closer to their kids.”
Erica walked to the edge of the river and spotted a path along the bank. “Can I have a minute, take a look around?”
“Take all the time you need. I’m going to check in at the office. I’ll come find you when I’m done.”
Erica pulled her phone from her purse and snapped a few pictures to help her remember details she could describe to Jack. She followed the path over rocks and under fallen trees. She heard the sound of a hammer pounding and an old George Straight ballad blaring from someone’s truck parked by an old cabin across the river. She stared, wondering just who was singing along at the top of his lungs without a care in the world that he couldn’t carry a tune.
Smyth joined her on the bank, chewing on a stalk of hay. “That’s A.J. Dodge’s place across the river.”
“A.J. Dodge can’t sing.”
Smyth chuckled. “That’s not Dodge. He wouldn’t be caught dead belting out a tune. Must be his stepson. Different last name those boys had. Can’t recall what it is at the moment. That must be the younger one…Kevin? Kyle? Hell, I can’t remember.”
“They use that cabin?” she asked.
“Don’t know as they do, but it looks like they’ll use it now.”
As she and Smyth stared, a man with dark hair came through the door wearing jeans, a tool belt, and T-shirt smudged with dirt. He walked to the truck, reached inside, and pulled out what looked like a bottle of water. He chugged the water with his hand on his hip as if he was posing for a damn magazine ad. Erica would have bought whatever he was selling.
Her phone slipped from her hand, and she gasped. It landed in dry dirt and was covered in dust. Great. She knelt to pick it up and blew on the cover to get rid of the dust. When she glanced up, the hottie in the tool belt had noticed them and stood hipshot, staring. She felt an electric charge zing up her body. When he lifted his hand in greeting, she spun on her heels and hurried back down the path. She heard Smyth call out an acknowledgement behind her.
Erica snapped a few pictures of the inside and met Smyth on the back porch as he ambled up from the river without a care in the world. “I’ve seen enough,” she said.
“Let’s get you back to the office.”
He held the truck door open for her while she climbed inside. As he moseyed around the truck, she glanced back toward the river. Hailey may have the only decent property, but Erica didn’t know how she felt about living a stone’s throw from someone who could turn her bones to mush with one look.
Chapter 7
Olivia held her apartment door open and stood back so Lyle could enter with an oversized suitcase and an armful of blankets. She couldn’t quite keep the scowl off her face. She missed Jill and hated coming home to an empty apartment, but she still wasn’t thrilled about living with Lyle. He walked from the bedroom to the kitchen and uncapped a bottle of water.
“Please,” Olivia said, “Help yourself.”
Lyle didn’t stop guzzling until half the bottle was gone. “I’ve got two cases of water in my car.”
“So drink yours.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Is this how it’s going to be? If you ride my ass for months, this won’t be much fun for either one of us.”
“You think this is going to be fun?”
He dropped the bottle on the counter and leaned heavily against the stone surface. “I should never have let Jill talk me into this.” He drew his arm across his brow. “Look, I’m filthy and I’m tired. Let me grab a quick shower and I’ll get my stuff out of here.”
“And go where?” Olivia asked from the couch where she sat with her legs tucked under her. “Jill said you didn’t have anywhere else to stay.”
“I don’t, but there’re half a dozen motels in the valley.”
“You’d rather pay for a room than put up with a little grousing from me?” She stretched her legs out and crossed her ankles on the coffee table. “You’re such a wimp.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I’m just giving you a hard time.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “I’ve never really been nice to you. I’m not sure I know how.”
Lyle snorted. “I’m too tired to play games with you, Olivia.”
“Why are you so tired? Is typing words on a page that exhausting?”
“I was working on the cabin. Putting up insulation, hanging sheetrock. It’s hard work.”
When Lyle walked into the den, she figured he’d decided to stay. “How do you know how to do all that stuff?”
“Dodge. He’s the cheapest S.O.B. in the valley. He used to make Kevin and me do all kinds of stuff under the guise of teaching us how to do ‘man’s work.’ I think he felt obligated to toughen us up since mom didn’t know how to use tools. And we worked for free.”
Olivia thought of Lyle’s stepdad and smiled. “He’s got a heart of gold underneath all that gruffness. I’ve always thought he was handsome. For an old guy,” she added when Lyle’s mouth fell open. “My mom said he had that bad boy rep until your mom tamed him.”
“You think he’s tamed? Boy, have you got a lot to learn.”
“Go get cleaned up,” she said. “I’ll put a frozen pizza in the oven if you’re hungry, and we can watch TV.”
“I could eat my hand I’m so hungry.” He stayed where he was and watched her get up.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked.
“All kidding aside, I know you don’t want me here. I appreciate you letting me stay. I’ll keep my stuff in the room and I’ll buy my own food.”
“Oh, Lyle, I don’t care if you leave stuff sitting around. I’m going to, so you may as well make yourself at home.”
“Would you mind if I set up my work stuff on the kitchen table?” he asked with a sheepish expression.
She looked at the round, oak two-seater she’d bought at a flea market. “Go ahead. I never use the table any way.”
“Thanks,” he said. “For everything.”
“I’m not easy to live with,” she said to lighten the mood.
He tapped her cheek with his palm. “You’d disappoint me if you were.”
***
The water ran brown when Lyle stepped under the spray. Not surprising since the wind tended to stir up dust; his sweat had provided a welcome landing spot.
It felt good to get his hands dirty and work his muscles. He hadn’t run in days and he was getting itchy with the tension buildup. Lyle worked best with a routine. Moving in with Olivia would help set his life in order for at least a couple of months. He didn’t relish being so far from the cabin, but Lower Fork had plenty of room to run in and plenty of quiet to write.
He still wasn’t sure when Jack Forrester, the subject of his latest project, was coming to town. Lyle didn’t mind the delay. It gave him time to research and work on his cabin. He’d dive back into research tomorrow after he settled his things in the apartment and took a nice long run. He’d have to call Jill and ask what her favorite routes had been while she lived with Olivia.
The girl he’d spied across the river earlier had reminded him of Jill with her dark hair and athletic build. The mystery woman was bigger than Jill; not taller, but curvier. Womanly. He loved a woman with curves.
Strange how she’d taken off like that. Of course, he’d high tail it away from Bruce Smyth, too, if he’d been forced to spend the day with him. The valley’s most prosperous realtor was also its biggest pompous ass. Walking around the valley with that cowboy hat as if he’d just ridden in off the range…
The dark-haired beauty must have been looking at the Cuthbert place. He was a little uncomfortable about the adjacent property being for sale. He didn’t want someone moving in across from his new home who might change the landscape or be a bad neighbor. Of course, neither he nor Dodge had been thrilled that the property had been so poorly taken care of since Cuthbert and his wife moved to Denver.
But Dodge didn’t live right across the river from the house. He was snug as a bug downriver with another Woodward son on the way to disrupt his life for a short time.
It was hard to stay mad when Kevin and Shiloh’s visit had put his fixing up the cabin into motion. He’d meant to do it years ago, but Lyle was honest enough to admit he didn’t do anything unless he had to. Since Shiloh’s parents’ place wasn’t big enough for company, they needed to stay with his mom and Dodge.
Hopefully when he moved in, he’d have a sexy, dark-haired neighbor to make living alone all the more interesting.
Chapter 8
Jack mulled over what Erica had told him about the properties she’d seen. Only one to choose from made the choice pretty damn easy. He liked it when life was easy; he’d experienced enough challenges to make him appreciate when the road he chose followed a smooth path.
But too smooth was boring. Jack had been bored for too long. He picked up the phone and dialed a number he’d memorized.
“Golden Rule Raft and Fly Shop. Olivia speaking.”
“Ah, Olivia. I was hoping you’d answer.”
“I recognize the voice but don’t recall your name,” she said in a way that made him realize she was keeping her guard up.