“Magnolia Builds on HDN,” Hollis said somewhat stiffly. “You know, the home improvement channel?”
“No shit?” Knox’s grin widened. “My sister Shea loves that show. Hol, why didn’t you tell me we were getting a genuine TV star? I would’ve worn my good jeans.”
Hollis rolled her eyes. “Because I knew you’d act exactly like this.”
“Like what?” He pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I’m being perfectly professional.”
“You haven’t been professional a day in your life,” Hollis muttered.
Knox winked at Maggie, clearly enjoying Hollis’s exasperation. “She loves me really. Just won’t admit it.”
Naomi snorted. “Keep telling yourself that, Haven.”
“Oh, I will,” Knox said, unperturbed. He turned his attention back to Maggie and leaned against the doorframe, completely at ease, studying her with open appreciation. “So, bathroom renovations. Any brilliant ideas for fixing a rotted subfloor on a shoestring budget? Buy you coffee, pick your brain?”
“Knox,” Hollis snapped. “Stop flirting. Didn’t you say you were in a hurry to get to the hardware store before they close?”
He glanced at his watch and swore, but the disappointment in his expression seemed genuine. “Right. Gotta run.” He pushed off the doorframe, flashing Maggie one last devastating grin. “Rain check on that coffee?”
Then he was gone, door swinging shut behind him.
“Sorry about him,” Hollis said with a long-suffering sigh. “He’ll flirt with anything with a pulse. He’s shameless.”
“It’s okay,” Nessie assured. “We’re used to it. We have guys like that at the ranch.”
“X,” Naomi agreed. “And River.”
“I’ve met X. At least he’s actually charming. Knox just thinks he is.” She held out an arm, indicating they should head into the living room. “Let me show you the house. I was so excited when I got Naomi’s call about these classes you want to do.”
They followed Hollis through the house. The Victorian’s bones were solid, though Maggie spotted water damage on the ceiling of the dining room and a staircase that definitely needed reinforcing. She catalogued each issue, mentally calculating materials and labor. Old habits.
“Most women stay between two weeks and three months in emergency housing,” Hollis explained as they entered a sunroom off the back of the house. Large windows overlooked a fenced backyard where playground equipment sat alongside raised garden beds. “Transitional housing can be up to a year, depending on circumstances.”
“What happens after they leave?” Maggie asked.
“We help them find jobs, housing, childcare. We actually have a daycare on site, so they can bring their kids back to somewhere familiar during that transitional period. Whatever they need to stand on their own.” Hollis’s voice softened. “Butthe goal isn’t to keep them here. It’s to make sure they never need to come back.”
Two young women sat at a table in the sunroom, one braiding the other’s long dark hair. They looked up as the group entered.
“Naomi!” The one having her hair braided jumped to her feet, nearly upsetting the chair. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen, with a wary intelligence in her dark eyes that made her seem both younger and older. “You came back!”
“I said I would, didn’t I?” Naomi opened her arms, and the girl flew into them, clinging tight. Over the girl’s shoulder, Naomi’s eyes softened. “Angel, this is Maggie. She’s going to teach a carpentry workshop here.”
Angel pulled back, studying Maggie with undisguised curiosity. “Like building stuff? For real?”
“For real.” Maggie smiled. “Tables, shelves, birdhouses. Whatever you want to learn.”
“Cool.” Angel glanced back at her companion, who hadn’t moved from the table. “Tariah, did you hear that? We get to use power tools.”
Tariah looked up, her expression guarded. She was older than Angel by a year or two, but something in her eyes looked ancient. She nodded once in acknowledgment, then returned to staring at her hands.
“Tariah’s still adjusting,” Hollis murmured, quiet enough that only Maggie could hear. “She doesn’t talk much yet.”
Angel bounded back to the table, tugging at Tariah’s arm. “Come on, we should tell Claire. She’s always helping Knox fix stuff around here.”
As if summoned by her name, a woman in her late thirties appeared in the doorway. Her dark hair was streaked with gray near her hairline, but her face was unlined except for the creasesat the corners of her eyes. Those eyes locked onto Maggie immediately.
“You’re the carpenter?”
