Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Was one of those days?” I guessed.
She nodded miserably. “I put eye shadow on in the bathroom at school. Zoe told me I overdid it and…I saw Derek and stupid Cole Jerkman looking at me and laughing, and I didn’t have time to wash it off. I just…I liked it better when we were all reading Calaria Cartwright mysteries.”
Me too.
This was a tough one for me. My girl wasn’t a teenager, but she was on the cusp of change and aware that her friends had beat her to it. Everything in me wanted to shield her from unkind words and growing pains, but I had a feeling that was simply part of becoming a young adult.
“What did your mom say? I’m assuming you told her too.”
Ivy shook her head. “No, she’s…busy. And she doesn’t say anything about makeup if I only use a little and I don’t—”
A clatter of footsteps jolted our attention to the hallway.
“Cooper!”
“It’s only a little cut,” Chase insisted in a calmer tone. “We have Band-Aids in the bathroom.”
“Okay, okay. Right. Never mind. We got this,” Silas called out.
Ivy and I shared a wide-eyed yikes expression, but before she could run interference with her brother, I stopped Ivy with a light tug on her wrist.
“Hey. Be you, Ive. I know you think you have to keep up with the crowd, but you’re perfect just the way you are. Utterly perfect. Just be you. And if you want to talk…I’m here. Always.”
She grinned and launched herself into my arms. “Love you, Dad.”
My heart clenched in my chest. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”
She stepped aside, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “We better see what happened.”
“Good idea.”
Ivy didn’t budge from the doorway, though. She gave me a shy sideways glance. “It’s not that I don’t want to wear makeup…I kind of do. A little, anyway. I just don’t know how to do it right.”
Silas rushed out of the bathroom just then, wide-eyed and harried. “Yo, I’ll teach you how to do makeup later. I got a more immediate problem. Chase tripped on a rock and ate some gravel and the Toy Story Band-Aids in the medicine cabinet wouldn’t fit around my big toe. Help!”
I bolted down the hall and was relieved to find that the cut was more of a surface wound than a real issue. I took over nursing duties while Ivy and Silas headed downstairs to start dinner. She was adamant that he should join us.
I overheard his pushback—something about not wanting to get in the way of our family time and Ivy’s response that we all liked him, even Dad, and we had plenty of food to share, so he might as well stay.
He did.
And I didn’t have it in me to pretend I wanted or needed distance. The opposite was true. On a day when I was overwhelmed by the weight of responsibility to my job and my kids, Silas was a breath of fresh air I craved.
I didn’t have to stress about the financing for the Mill Depot tonight. And second-guessing my parenting skills seemed silly because here they were, laughing like a couple of loons at Silas’s embellished retelling of a swooping crow that had chased him out of the forest during his morning run.
Silas had his own worries, but he didn’t bring them to the table. So that night, neither did I.
CHAPTER 18
SILAS
The trails along the lake were well tended. No pesky tree roots waiting to trip you up, no overgrown brush scraping at your arms or legs, and best of all, it was blissfully quiet. In LA, I routinely dodged cars, strollers, and other joggers, always aware of my surroundings. And forget about peace and quiet. There was no such thing in a sprawling metropolis where the hum of traffic, city noises, and echoing conversations was like a heartbeat, vital to sustain life.
The lake and the forest set the tone here with the change of season and weather. I’d gotten stuck in a flash rainstorm last week. One second the sun had been shining, birds singing, and the next, the sky turned gray and fat drops of rain pounded the bill of my Devils ball cap. I’d taken the hat off and tipped my face toward the heavens, grinning like I’d just won the fucking lottery.
I loved this place. The folks were friendly yet respectful. As far as I knew, no one had taken any sneaky photos, followed me home, or posted videos of me shooting the shit with Dex or Davey or my new lumberjack buddies. And if they suspected there was anything between Cooper and me, they kept it to themselves too.
They didn’t, though. I was sure of it.
Cooper’s secretary wanted to set me up with a friend of hers from Fallbrook. Mr. Pennyworth’s granddaughter was supposedly a real catch, and he couldn’t wait to introduce us on her next visit. And at least three loggers had sisters or cousins they thought I should meet. I smiled and kept my mouth shut.