RaeAnne Thayne - Evergreen Springs

“That’s a fabulous idea. I’ll send out an email right now. When would you like me to have people drop off their meals?”

She hadn’t thought that far ahead, to actually delivering the meals. That would necessitate seeing Cole again, something that suddenly gave her ridiculous butterflies.

Her tired brain took a moment to scan through her schedule for the next day. “Why don’t we say midmorning tomorrow? That way everybody can see the email first thing and check their freezer inventory. I’ve got yoga class at the senior citizen’s center that won’t be done until ten. Let’s use the store as a central drop-off place, if you don’t mind. I can pick everything up after yoga and take it up to Evergreen Springs. I thought I would make up a spinach lasagna, a chicken and rice casserole and the Gruyère mac and cheese everybody seemed to like at the last potluck.”

“Ooh. That sounds delicious. I wish I had a big bowl of it right now.”

“I’ll save you some,” she promised.

“I was already thinking about throwing together a big batch of burgundy beef stew in the slow cooker tomorrow. Ben loves it and I’ll have plenty of extras for Cole. I’ll just cook it on the stove instead. It’s always better reheated anyway, once the flavors have time to meld.”

“Thanks, Kenz.”

“I’m actually glad to have the chance to do something for Cole. He worked nonstop last summer when the Hell’s Fury flooded and then disappeared before I ever had the chance to say thanks. I don’t think I saw him even take a break for a sandwich. It will be nice to feel like we’re paying him back a little for all his help.”

“That works.”

“And maybe if we’re nice enough to him,” McKenzie went on in a voice that was growing in enthusiasm, “he won’t feel like he has to be such a hermit up there on the mountain. Sexy cowboys hanging around downtown for the tourists to see can only be good for our reputation, right?”

Devin laughed. “You can be the one to tell the man you want to pimp him out for the good of Haven Point.”

“He wouldn’t have to go bare-chested or anything. I would be happy if he just walked up and down Lake Street in his Stetson, tipping it every now and then to the tourists with a random ‘ma’am’ or ‘howdy.’”

She heard a deep voice on the other end—Ben, she assumed. McKenzie said something to him Devin couldn’t hear, then came back laughing.

“Okay, apparently Ben thinks that’s not one of my better ideas. We’ll keep it on the back burner for now.”

“That’s a good place for it. Way, way back,” Devin said with a laugh. “I’ll be by tomorrow to pick up the food.”

She ended the connection, deeply grateful for her sister. McKenzie had come into the family through difficult circumstances but Devin couldn’t imagine her world without her sister’s quirky sense of humor, her creative mind and her deep sense of compassion and loyalty.

Seamus wandered in again and pounced onto her lap. Simone peeked her head around the edge of the door frame, then slunk into the kitchen toward her food bowl with mad ninja skills, as if she were trying to become invisible by being one with the maple heartwood floor.

“Hey, kitty, kitty,” Devin said softly. Simone gave her a wary look, ate a little food, then darted back out of the room.

She petted Seamus for a moment, listening to the quiet sounds of the house where she had been raised—the whoosh of the furnace clicking on, the creak of old joists, the wind moaning under the eaves.

Some people might think it was weird that she still lived in her childhood home. Not only did she still live in it, she had used her inheritance from her father to purchase it from her mother and sister after she decided to come back to Haven Point to practice and went into partnership with Russ Warrick.

The sprawling house was too big for one person, but she didn’t care. She loved it, anyway. How could she not, right here on the lakeshore with a beautiful view of the steep and jagged mountains reflecting in the water?

It had always been a place of refuge. In the midst of all the chemo and radiation and fear—and then later, during the stress and pressure of medical school, residency and internship—this had been her go-to happy place.

She had done a few things to it since she purchased it. The kitchen was all new and she had taken out the old carpet and installed wood flooring throughout the house. She had taken out a couple of walls between two of the smaller rooms on the west side of the house and made one large master suite for herself with vaulted ceilings and huge windows.

It was her retreat, her sanctuary. She headed there now, accompanied by Seamus. Devin flipped the switch to turn on the Christmas tree, one of two in the house that McKenzie had decorated for her.

She was so tired she decided to forgo her usual routine of yoga stretches before bed and just changed into pajamas and sank into her bed. If she was going to help Cole Barrett and his kids, she had a feeling she would need all the sleep she could get.

* * *

HE HAD BROKEN a grand total of thirty-two bones in his body during his rodeo days but none of those injuries compared to the sheer sadistic agony of stepping on one of Ty’s LEGO pieces, even in stocking feet.

Cole bit back a curse but let it slip out anyway when his other foot stepped down on a colored pencil that jabbed at his foot through the sock.

Too bad he didn’t drink anymore, because right now he could really use a whiskey instead of the glass of water he had just about spilled all over the floor.

His house was officially a pigsty. After only a few hours of the kids at home on a Saturday morning without Tricia or his housekeeper, toys, discarded backpacks and cereal crumbs were scattered everywhere. Did they just grab bags of their belongings out of their rooms and run through the house tossing things right and left?

And how did they seem to have so much stuff, anyway? They had come to him with hardly anything. Sharla’s transient lifestyle had precluded them owning much besides some clothes and a few toys.

He reached down and picked up a mini brick figure of Darth Vader before the bad dude could slice off his toe with his plastic light saber.

“I think this guy is yours,” he said to Ty as his son headed in with another handful of dry cereal—which possibly explained the crushed bits on the carpet.

“I almost broke my foot on a couple of your other toys. Sorry I broke your creation.”

Ty winced. “I forgot to pick them up. Sorry. Should I get them now?”

“That would be helpful. And do you remember we talked about only eating in the kitchen and dining room?”

“I forgot that, too.”

“One more thing. Remember the rule about snacks? If you want something to eat, you need to ask me first, and if I say yes, you should put it in a bowl so we don’t trail pieces all over the floor for other people to step on.”

“Okay,” he said with a put-upon sigh.

The poor kid probably felt as if he’d gone from living in Disneyland with no rules and all the junk food he could want to doing hard time in Alcatraz.

Cole mustered a smile. “Thanks.”

“I told him he didn’t need any more cereal, because he already had breakfast and would only ruin his lunch, but he didn’t listen to me,” Jazmyn said in that know-it-all tone that could sometimes grate on his last nerve.

“I don’t mind him having a snack but we all need to work together to keep the place clean. Speaking of which, I believe I asked you to clear the breakfast dishes off the table.”

“I was drawing something,” she answered. Apparently she thought obeying her father was optional—or at least negotiable.

He wasn’t Sharla and the rules at Evergreen Springs were very different from what they were both used to.