“I’ll be right here,” Boone said from the driver’s seat, as if understanding she needed the reassurance.
He was a good guy.
All of them at the Ridge were.
She nodded, shut the door, and focused on putting one foot in front of the other until she reached the porch. She would not look for Landry in every passing car.
“Glad you could make it,” Nessie said, giving her a hug. “I hope you weren’t too hungover this morning.”
“No, just a slight headache.”
“Well, that’s better than me. I didn’t get out of bed until it was time to come here. Thankfully, the bakery is closed today, and Jax entertained Oliver so I could sleep it off.”
“You’re a lightweight,” Naomi teased. “Invite Greta and me to more girls’ nights, and we’ll build up your tolerance.”
“Of course you’re invited to all girls’ nights.” Nessie bumped Naomi’s shoulder with her own. “You’re Ghosts’s, which means you’re a Ridge girl now.”
The front door opened before they reached it.
A woman with wavy brown hair pulled back in a practical ponytail stepped onto the porch. “Naomi! Nessie! So good to see you both!” She gave them hugs, then turned to Maggie and extended her hand. “And you must be Magnolia. I’m Hollis Hartley. We’re so excited to have you here. We don’t often have celebrities visit.”
Her immediate gut response was to deny that she was a celebrity, but she bit it back. “Just Maggie is fine.” She took Hollis’s hand, noting the calluses that matched her own. Working hands. Builder’s hands. “Thank you for having me.”
“Of course! I love the idea of a work program for our ladies.” Hollis led them through a small entryway with a security keypad beside the door. Cameras nestled discreetly in the corners, unobtrusive but present. Maggie caught the glint of reinforced hinges on the door—quality work, not the standard contractor-grade hardware.
“Nice setup,” she murmured, nodding toward the security features.
“Thanks. We upgrade when we can.” Hollis pressed a code into the keypad. “Everyone who stays here gets the entry code. It changes monthly.”
The entryway opened into a living room with mismatched furniture arranged in cozy clusters. Warm paint colors softenedthe walls. Throw pillows and blankets were scattered across couches, and a bookshelf overflowed with paperbacks. Plants thrived on the windowsills, though the windows themselves had discreet security bars integrated into their frames.
The room smelled like coffee and cinnamon, with an undertone of fresh paint. A woman with her arm in a cast sat in the corner, reading to a toddler on her lap.
“We’re at capacity right now,” Hollis said quietly. “Twelve women, five children. Mix of emergency and transitional housing.”
“Bedrooms upstairs?” Maggie asked, automatically assessing the layout, the flow of the space.
“Most of them. We converted the old parlor into a bedroom for Lisa and her son—she’s got mobility issues from a back injury.” Hollis gestured toward a hallway. “Kitchen’s that way, communal dining space, laundry in the basement. Office, counseling room, and play area for the kids are through there.”
A loud thud from upstairs interrupted her, followed by muffled cursing. Hollis rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitched.
“And that would be Knox. He’s helping repair some water damage in the upstairs bathroom.”
Footsteps thundered down the stairs, and a tall man with paint-spattered jeans and a toolbelt appeared. He dragged a hand through dark hair, leaving it sticking up at odd angles, then stopped short when he spotted them.
“Ladies.” He nodded to the group, then zeroed in on Hollis. “We’ve got a bigger problem than I thought. That leak rotted through the subfloor.”
“How bad?” Hollis crossed her arms, shoulders tensing.
“Bad enough that I need to rip it up and replace it. Gonna take a few days.” He turned toward Maggie, and hiswhole demeanor shifted—smile widening, eyes lighting up with interest. “Though the view just improved considerably.”
Hollis shot him a look. “Knox, this is Maggie Rowe. The carpenter I mentioned. Maggie, Knox Haven. His family’s charity funds Haven House.”
“Maggie.” Knox closed the distance and offered his hand, holding hers just a beat longer than necessary, his palm calloused and warm. “Good timing. You know anything about bathroom renovations?”
“A thing or two.” Maggie smiled despite herself, extracting her hand. “Done a few dozen on my show.”
“Show?” His eyebrows lifted, curiosity genuine now alongside the flirtation.
