“And if the weather’s bad, you can bring them back in. Brilliant.”
“Weather was the critical problem I had to solve. I knew they could sit on the overhang above the barn doors, but unlike the raccoons over the bar, they can’t stay there.”
“But they can perform in here, instead.”
He smiled. “If you mean I just created the perfect party venue?—”
“You sure did. Especially if they can play more than one song.”
“They can.”
She glanced back at the couch and easy chairs surrounding the fireplace. “And here I thought you might be a bit of a recluse.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“You soundproofed this loft as if you were making a recording studio. Or a man cave.”
He laughed. “Never wanted a man cave. But I would like the horses and me to be good neighbors who don’t disturb each other. That doesn’t make me a hermit.”
“I see your point, but you also seemed perfectly happy tucked away for two months working on your secret project.”
“I was, but mostly because I was excited about getting this done. I also have a great time hanging out with your family.”
“We’re not too much?”
“Not at all. I’m fine with this becoming a party venue because I’m also pretty good at telling people when the party’s over. But performing in here isn’t the goal. I need this platform to rotate or the plan’s a bust.”
“Well, either the mechanism works or you’ll figure out how to fix it. That’s what my dad always said about his projects.”
“Judging from what I’ve heard, that guy was a genius.”
“Who says you’re not?”
That clearly startled him. Then his expression changed and his eyes gleamed the way they had when she’d been carrying on about the barn doors. “Watch your language, lady.” He adopted a lazy drawl. “Them’s kissin’ words.”
A flood of desire almost left her speechless. Almost. She lifted her chin and met his intense gaze. “So what?”
His soft laughter rippled over her like a caress. “We’ve come this far. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna fudging kiss you before I show you how these varmints perform.”
“Then you’d better turn them on quick, amigo.” Her words came out in a breathless rush, as a courage she didn’t know she had made her bold. “We’re running out of time.”
“Yes, ma’am. It does look that way.” Facing the control box again, he hit another switch.
The animals came to life — slapping their tails in rhythm on the floor and playing their instruments — a fiddle, a washboard and a washtub string bass.
All God’s Creatures Got a Place in the Choir poured from speakers mounted on the platform. The bass player and the percussionist appeared to sing along. The fiddler kept up a lively motion with his bow. The charming performance brought a unexpected lump to her throat. Her dad would have loved this.
“Mila?”
She glanced up.
The music had ended and Cole stood close, very close, his brow furrowed. “Is something wrong with it?”
“No, it’s beautiful, stupendous, incredible.”
“But you look sad.”
“Because my dad would’ve gone nuts over those furry creatures. He would have laughed so hard at calling them the Beaver Bunch. They would have brought him so much joy.”
