by Liz Isaacson
“I’ll need to talk to Daddy,” Joan said. “And not today.”
Ivory reached for her phone and took it off speaker. “Is he not having a good day?” Around the island she went, pacing as she listened to her mother. Tripp had seen this before, and he hated the anxiety her parents brought out in her. At the same time, he knew she needed this relationship to be healed, and he’d do what he could to help do that.
“Daddy,” Isaac said behind him, and Tripp turned to find the little boy trying to get in the house.
“Just a sec, son,” he said, moving over to open the door. “You done outside?”
“Drink,” Isaac said, and Tripp scooped him into his arms.
“Milk? Or water?”
“Juice,” Isaac said, which is what he said for every drink. Tripp opened the fridge and took out his sippy cup, which he was fairly certain had milk in it, not juice. Isaac drank it, and Tripp put him back down to go play again.
Ivory said, “Okay, ‘bye,” and Tripp looked at her. She hung up and sighed, keeping her head down.
“Well?” he prompted.
She looked up, and he remembered why he’d been so attracted to her that first time they’d met at the post office. “She’s going to talk to my dad and see what he thinks.”
“Is he…?”
She nodded. “Yes, he’s drinking again.”
Tripp’s jaw clenched.
“I know you don’t want him around the kids when he does,” she said. “And I know that. I don’t either. I just told my mother that, actually.”
“Oh, wow,” he said. “What did she say?”
“She said she’d talk to him.” Ivory shrugged. “That’s always what Mama says. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t.” She stepped over to him, and he took her into his arms. “They’re my parents, Tripp.”
“I know that, baby.” He swayed with her as she tucked herself against his chest.
“We won’t be living with them. We can keep the kids away from him if he’s drinking.” She ran her hands up his back, and Tripp sure did like that. “And maybe, some of your momma’s faith will rub off on him.”
Tripp snorted and chuckled. “Oh, boy. If we unleash Momma on him….”
Ivory laughed too, and Tripp held her close until she finally stepped back and said, “Let’s see if Evelyn needs any help with dinner tonight.”
“All right,” Tripp said. Ivory had gone to Evelyn’s and Rhett’s several times over the past five or six weeks since the triplets had been born. She loved holding the babies, and rocking them, and helping Evelyn with the feeding and care of them.
She’d never said so, but he knew she wanted another baby, and if going to Evelyn’s to help with the triplets helped her, he wanted Ivory to have the opportunity. So, after Oliver got home from school, they pulled onto the road where Rhett and Evelyn’s white house sat, pizza and salad in the back between Oliver and Isaac.
“Look, Tripp,” Ivory said, pointing further down the road. “There’s a for sale sign down there.”
He detoured from pulling into the driveway and continued down the road. The house sat four down from Rhett’s, and it was definitely smaller than the one Tripp and Ivory lived in now. He peered at it through the windshield, waiting for Ivory’s assessment first.
“I wonder if this one is on Fletcher’s list,” she said.
“I told him five bedrooms,” Tripp said. “Do you think it’s big enough?”
“I think we should ask him if we can see it,” she said.
“I’ll text him,” Tripp said, swinging the truck around to go back to Rhett’s.
“Are we moving?” Oliver asked.
“Maybe,” Ivory said, though that was a definite yes if Tripp had been answering.
“Will I be able to go to the same school?” Oliver asked.
“Yes,” Tripp said, glancing at Ivory. “I’m sure you’ll be able to go to the same school, Ollie.” They needed to talk more about things before they started telling Oliver things that would upset him. He pulled into Rhett’s driveway and added, “And we’re not telling anyone about moving okay, Oliver? Not to Uncle Rhett or Aunt Evelyn. And especially not to Grandma.”
“Good idea,” Ivory said under her breath.
“Okay?” Tripp asked again.
“Okay,” Oliver said. “Can I throw a ball for Penny?” He unbuckled his seatbelt but he’d wait for permission before he’d get out.
“Yeah, sure,” Tripp said. “Get the big blue one from the back deck. She loves to bop that around to herself.”
Tripp went inside with the food, Ivory, and Isaac, taking his son from her as Ivory made a beeline for the newborns. He juggled the pizza and his kid, finally getting them both on the kitchen counter.
When Ivory turned back to him, she held a baby in each arm, her face alight with a glow Tripp recognized. They’d both wanted more children, but Ivory simply couldn’t have them. He wished he could give her the joy seeping across her face right now, because he loved her with his whole heart, and he wanted her to have everything she wanted.
But he couldn’t give her another baby. So he helped Isaac down and said, “Go find Conrad, buddy,” and then he went and picked up one of the new babies too, holding the boy close to his heart as he gazed down at his sleeping form.
“They’re great,” he said quietly, and he sat next to Ivory, beyond grateful for his big family and the way they selflessly shared their newborns with him and Ivory.
Chapter Eighteen
Micah pulled off the highway after only about five minutes, the road paved for the first mile or so. The trees got thicker along both sides of the road, and Micah sure did like Bear Glover’s land. He’d been out to the ranch just once previously, but Bear had encountered a problem and had cancelled their meeting. Before that, Micah had tried to talk to him over the phone, but that hadn’t worked either.
So finally, weeks and weeks later, they’d managed to get their schedules aligned. Micah couldn’t believe how busy he’d been in the past couple of months, but between rehearsals, the two homes he was working on, helping with the triplets, and dealing with Simone’s Gran’s death, he got up early and collapsed into bed late.
Alone.
Still alone.
Simone had cried in his arms for a few nights, but in the kitchen, not his bedroom. In fact, he hated that he still thought of it as his.
He’d gone horseback riding with his brothers a couple of times, and thankfully, Skyler had only asked about Simone once. Micah hadn’t known what to say, because how could he tell them he and Simone were legally married but living like roommates?
His unhappiness reared its ugly head, and he tamped it down quickly as he pulled up to the homestead. He eyed it, as it could definitely use some improvements, and he hadn’t even gotten out of the truck yet.
Bear came out the front door, and Micah grabbed his clipboard and got out of the truck. “Bear,” he said with a smile. He was great at covering up his real feelings with a smile and a handshake. But he was tired of pretending with Simone.
He just needed to talk to her again. With everything that had been going on, he hadn’t wanted to add to her burdens. But as he’d done that, the ones he’d been carrying had gotten heavier.
“Good to see you, Micah.” Bear shook his hand. “I wanted to get you out here so you could see what I’m dealing with.”
“All right.”
“Let’s start inside,” Bear said, going back up the steps to the front door. He had quite a large porch that ran from corner to corner along the front of the house, and Micah looked both ways, taking it in.
“Nice doors,” he said, moving through the double-wide front door and into the homestead. And…he was instantly transported back in time at least forty years.
He pulled in a breath, and Bear said, “Yeah, that’s why you needed to be here.”
“It’s a bit…dated,” Micah said.
“It’s old,” Bear said, not mincing words. “And it hasn’t been u
pdated since my grandmother did it fifty-five years ago.”
“So you want a renovation,” Micah said, glancing up at the ceiling. He saw signs of water damage where the paint had bubbled and then dried.
“I don’t know what I want.”
“How big is it?”
“Five thousand square feet.”
“Two stories,” Micah said. “Six bedrooms. Four baths?”
“Just three.”
Micah nodded. “Are you looking to do the whole thing or just say, the kitchen and family room?” He finally looked at Bear. No, he did not want to do a renovation, but he hadn’t signed anyone else for a new home, and his two projects would be finished in another month or so.
He didn’t need the work. He just wanted it.
He got plenty of inquiries. Simone hadn’t done the Spring Fling because of everything happening in the family, and Micah honestly didn’t know if she had the money she needed or not. Standing there in Bear’s house, he cursed himself for expecting them to be able to slip into a married life role without talking any of it through.
Suddenly, he wanted to leave. Get to Simone as quickly as he could and initiate the crucial conversation they needed to have.
“Kitchen for sure,” Bear said. “And maybe more. The house is so…closed.”
“Yeah, do you actually use this room?” Micah asked. “It looks like a parlor, where someone would play the piano.” It was just a large rectangle, with a doorway straight back from the front door dividing the room in half.
“I think my grandmother did have a piano in here,” Bear said, stepping through the doorway, his broad shoulders almost touching both sides as the narrow, old doorway. Micah followed him, feeling like he’d entered a dungeon.
The hallway was dark, with doors on both sides, and it ended in the kitchen, which was completely separated from the rest of the house. Micah hated everything about this house. “What’s between this and that room out there?” he asked.
“My office,” Bear said. “A bathroom. The steps go up to the right there, and my bedroom is through this door.”
“Your bedroom is off the kitchen?” Micah asked.
Bear gave him a look that Micah didn’t quite understand. But he definitely wasn’t pleased with the question. Marcy had told Micah that Bear was a great guy—if he was in a great mood. “He can be a grizzly or a teddy,” Marcy had told him. “And you best be hoping you get the Teddy Bear when you need to talk to him about something serious.”
Micah thought he’d gotten Bear halfway between the grizzly and the teddy, and he opened the door and looked in Bear’s bedroom. It definitely wasn’t a master suite worth telling anyone about.
“Okay.” Micah drew in a deep breath. “Honest truth?”
“Lay it on me.”
“It would be easier to knock this place down and build you what you want.” He pushed his cowboy hat forward. “Cheaper too.”
Bear let out a noise halfway between a hiss and a sigh. “I figured you’d say that.”
“Sorry,” Micah said. “I don’t think you want me. You can hire—”
“I do want you,” Bear said, his voice a bit on the growly side. “I’ve seen the work you do. I was hopin’, though I knew it was a long shot, that you might see the potential here that I don’t. But it doesn’t seem like it.”
“It’s just an awkward layout,” Micah said. “And I didn’t mean to say we should raze your grandparents’ house. It probably has some significance to you.”
“Not to me,” Bear said. “I’ve learned over the years that I have to adapt to the trends or I’ll die.”
“Yeah, but just on the ranch,” Micah said, not sure why he was arguing with Bear.
“No, in everything,” he said. “Will you put together a quote for me showing cost?”
Surprise moved through Micah. “To replace what you have? I can quote you now.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“I do the design myself,” Micah said. “I’ll work with you on it, of course, and once we have that, we build. I contract out anything I’m not an expert in—like the plumbing, electrical, HVAC, cement work, that kind of thing.”
“How long?”
“On a ready piece of land, it’s about six months,” Micah said. “Do you want to leave this place and build next door? Maybe this could be—I don’t know. A cowboy bunkhouse or something.”
“Nah, I’ve got cabins for my boys,” Bear said.
“Family?”
“My brother and my cousin live here with me,” Bear said. “Couple more Glovers out in the cowboy cabins too.”
“And they’re all okay with potentially getting rid of this house?”
“I own the ranch.”
And therefore, Bear made the decisions.
“Okay,” Micah said. “I’ll be real honest, Bear. I’ve never torn down a house before. I don’t know how long it will take or what we’ll find as far as a foundation.”
“I’ve heard good things about your skills,” Bear said. “The Rhinehart’s sure are happy.”
“I’m glad,” Micah said. “Okay, so for what you want, I’m going to quote you one-point-five million.” He expected Bear to scoff and demand he leave immediately.
Instead, he said, “I can do that.”
“You can?” Micah didn’t mean to sound so incredulous.
Bear chuckled and said, “I was expecting it to be twice that much. Those places up in Church Ranches are twice that much. Minimum.”
“And they’re not even custom,” Micah said, not quite daring to believe he’d just been hired by Bear Glover. He grinned at Bear, who grinned back.
“Draw it up,” Bear said. “Let’s get it signed and going. I’m tired of turning sideways to get in the shower.”
Micah laughed, shook Bear’s hand, and promised he’d be in touch with the contract, probably tomorrow.
He got behind the wheel of his truck, still shocked that a meeting that was supposed to take place two months ago had resulted in a new contract.
“Thank you,” he whispered as he put the truck in gear and backed up. The Lord had been watching out for Micah, and He knew when to send him a job right when he needed it.
“Now,” Micah said. “Dear Lord, let’s talk about Simone….”
When he pulled into the driveway, Simone’s car sat there. He’d had a good, long talk with the Lord, and he drew in a deep breath for strength. One step through the door, and he knew Simone had brought home dinner.
The scent of marinara rode on the air, as did the distinct tang of chocolate. “Baking?” he asked.
She looked up from the stove where she was stirring something, her smile taking longer to come than he liked. “I brought home a big pot of spaghetti someone brought for Evelyn. She said she was tired of spaghetti, and she has a ton of food. But she didn’t want to be rude and refuse it.”
“I can smell chocolate.” Micah set his clipboard on the table as he passed it and joined her in the kitchen. “Ah ha.”
“They’re just those no-bake cookies.”
“I love those.” He wound his arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She leaned into his touch, and Micah’s heart wilted.
“I know you do.” She smiled at him, and Micah felt like a dozen needles had been shoved into his chest.
“Simone,” he said, stepping away. “I…I don’t think this is working.”
She stopped stirring but didn’t look at him. “What isn’t working?”
“This marriage,” he said, his courage growing. He’d broken up with her before when she’d just let things stall between them. He could do it again. He could. “I’m in love with you, and you’ve been here for over two months. I don’t want this.” He swallowed and kept going. “We’re roommates, and that is not what I want. It’s not working for me.”
She finally lifted her eyes and looked at him. “It’s not working for me either.”
The air left his lungs as if she’d punched it out of them. “Okay,�
� he said. “At least we’re being honest now.” He took off his cowboy hat and set it on the counter. “I know I haven’t done the right things. We should’ve talked about money. We should’ve talked about a lot of things, like having a family and how you were feeling about your father getting married, and Gran passing. I should’ve asked you out still and taken you to dinner instead of just assuming you’d fall in love with me if you lived here.”
Simone clicked off the burner, and Micah said, “I’m sorry.” Micah had failed at a lot of things, but this one hurt the most. A deep, stabbing pain radiated through his stomach. “I—I don’t know what else to say. I’ve shut down a woodworking shop in Temple, and I started a business here that hasn’t taken off the way I’d hoped. I’m not perfect; I know that. I guess I just…I don’t know. I guess I just thought we were so perfect for each other that I wouldn’t have to work so hard to get you to fall in love with me.”
When she still didn’t say anything, he snatched his hat back up and crammed it on his head. “I’m goin’ to get something to eat in town. I really am sorry.”
He’d taken enough steps to pick up his clipboard when she said, “Micah?”
He stopped, because he loved that woman, and he couldn’t walk out on her when she said his name with so much trepidation. But he didn’t have to speak.
“I’m sorry too,” she said, and that got Micah to turn around.
“Our lives have been crazy the past couple of months,” she said. “I could’ve brought up all those things you said. I didn’t.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks and when she lowered them, she was grinning for all she was worth. “And you’re wrong, Micah Walker. Completely wrong.”
“About what?” he asked.
“Me not loving you.”
The air left his lungs again, and he could only blink at her.
She giggled and said, “Don’t look so surprised, cowboy.”
“I don’t—what?”
“You were right. I think I fell in love with you within a week of being here. I just didn’t know how to say it. There was Gran, and Evelyn, and I don’t know. I let myself get swept up with helping her, and I love those babies so much.”
