All the heads nodded. Ruth Ann softly said, “The carpenter’s sister.”
“Well, she arrived yesterday.” There was no need to explain about the truck breaking down, the whole town already knew more about Nicole’s truck than she probably did. “As soon as Gray saw her, he pounced at her and actually knocked her over before he started licking her face like she was a long lost best friend.”
“Interesting,” Dorothy muttered. “Not like before.”
Eileen sighed and sat back in her chair. She had been debating with herself since yesterday whether it was wishful thinking or if Gray was indeed up to his old tricks. No matter how hard she tried to brush it aside, the thought that Nicole wasmeant to stay in Tuckers Bluff as the perfect match for someone simply wouldn’t leave Eileen be. “No.”
“Now wait a second.” Ruth Ann waved a single finger. “Gray was pretty attached to Eloise, even if he didn’t tackle her and lick her to death.”
“True.” Eileen bobbed her head. Her friend had a point. Gray had stuck to Eloise when she first arrived. And she did wind up with a Farraday—Quinn.
“So you think Nicole is the perfect match for, who?” Sally May steadied her gaze on her friend of decades. “Ryan?”
Eileen shrugged. “That would be my first guess since he’s the last of the unattached Farradays.
“Agreed.” Ruth Ann fanned her cards out again. “It’s probably Ryan. Or it’s nothing at all. And I need three cards.”
“Right.” Eileen picked up her hand again. “I’ll take two.” She’d have preferred four but she settled for holding her three hearts.
Dorothy dealt out the new cards. Eileen picked up her two cards. An ace of hearts and a four of hearts. How about that—a flush. Yep, good things come to those who wait. She was just going to have to wait and see what Gray was up to. A smile pulled at her lips. Ryan and Nicole. Wouldn’t that be something?
Having driven the last screw into the support bracket, Ryan tested its hold with a firm tug. Solid. He grabbed his drill, turning toward the next beam when movement caught his eye.
Nicole knelt at her workbench; head bent over one of the corbels. Afternoon light slanted across her workspace, catching dust motes in the air. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail hours ago, but strands had escaped, falling forward as she worked. Her hand moved in small, precise circles with a piece ofsandpaper, smoothing the carved surface. Pausing, she lifted the corbel to the light, squinted at it, then went back to sanding. The concentration on her face reminded him of the way she’d looked studying that load-bearing beam the first day. Like nothing else existed except the wood and her hands and whatever she was trying to coax out of it.
He stood watching the rhythmic motion of her arm and the way she tilted her head to check the smoothness of the wood with a single, reverent finger longer than he should have. Taking a step toward the next bracket, his boot caught on something solid, pitching him forward, arms windmilling. The drill flew from his hand, clattering across the floor. His other foot hit the ground hard, barely catching his weight before he face-planted into the sawdust. Squeezing his eyes shut, then focusing around, he spotted an open toolbox directly in his path. Most of the contents now scattered around like debris in a minefield.
Across the workspace, Morgan stood on a ladder securing a beam. His brother didn’t say a word. Just looked down at Ryan, one eyebrow climbing slowly toward his hairline.
Ryan felt heat crawl up his neck. “Didn’t see it.”
Morgan’s eyebrow climbed higher.
“I was focused on the bracket.”
The eyebrow stayed put. Morgan’s mouth didn’t even twitch, but his eyes said everything—caught you watching the girl.
“Shut up,” Ryan muttered.
“Didn’t say a thing.” Now sporting a knowing grin, his brother turned back to his beam.
Ryan retrieved his drill, intentionally not looking toward Nicole’s workbench. He could feel his brother’s silent laughter from across the room. The next two hours passed without incident, mostly because Ryan kept his eyes on his own work and nowhere else. When Morgan finally called it a day, the crewstarted packing up. Ryan coiled an extension cord, watching Nicole cover her corbel with a cloth and wipe down her tools.
Their newest crew member stretched, rolling her shoulders, and Ryan remembered the way her muscles had felt under his hands yesterday when he’d rubbed her neck. Probably shouldn’t have done that. Definitely shouldn’t be thinking about it now. He crossed the expansive area to where she stood packing up a few tools. “Got a minute?”
“Sure.” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear.
“On the days Aunt Eileen plays poker in town most of the family usually grabs dinner at O’Farredeigh’s instead of cooking.”
“Your aunt plays poker?” Her mouth curved into a smile.
“Yeah. The Ladies Afternoon Social Club does a lot of good for the town, but mostly they play cards.” He shifted his weight. “Up to you if you’d like to join us or prefer I run you back to the ranch. You’d be welcome to forage through the leftovers.”
Her expression unreadable, she studied him for a long, uncomfortable moment. “The pub sounds good.”
“Yeah?” He hadn’t meant to sound so surprised, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Just let me finish packing up here.”
