“—Mary Lou Keller.”
Ryan’s jaw tightened. “I was thirteen.”
“And yet.” Quinn’s grin widened. “Some things never change.”
Before Ryan could formulate a response that didn’t involve punching his brother, Morgan’s voice cut across the space. “Ryan, show her the loft. Quinn and I need to check in with the film crew about tomorrow’s schedule.”
“Sure thing,” he called back, gesturing to the ladder. “After you. Unless you want me to go first?”
Nicole eyed the ladder, then him. “I’ve climbed a few ladders in my time.”
“Fair enough.” He steadied the base as she started up, then followed, trying very hard not to notice that she climbed like someone who’d been doing it her whole life—confident, efficient, no hesitation.
The loft was hot, dusty, and smelled like a century of hay and horses. Afternoon light streamed through gaps in the walls,creating striped patterns across the rough wooden floor. Nicole moved to the back corner immediately, examining the sag in the roofline from underneath.
“This is worse than it looked from below.” She tested a beam with her hand. “How much of the original structure are you planning to keep?”
“As much as safely possible.” Ryan joined her, pointing out where they’d already reinforced some of the main supports. “The goal is preservation, not demolition. But safety comes first.”
“Good.” She pulled a small tape measure from her pocket and started taking measurements of the problem corner. “You’ll need to sister this beam here, and probably replace this joist entirely. The wood’s compromised.”
Ryan leaned in to look where she was pointing, and suddenly became very aware of how close they were standing. Close enough to catch the faint scent of her shampoo—something clean and simple, maybe coconut. Close enough to see the light dusting of freckles across her nose that the Texas sun had probably brought out on the drive.
She turned her head and their faces were inches apart.
“Sorry,” he said, taking a step back and nearly tripping over a loose board.
“Careful.” Her hand shot out, steadying his arm. “Wouldn’t want you falling through before we fix the floor joists.”
“That would be embarrassing.”
“Just a little.” Was she smiling? He couldn’t quite tell in the dim light, but her voice had a hint of amusement.
“Mike told us you were an expert finishing carpenter. He didn’t mention your structural knowledge.”
Her head bobbed. “Pretty much every finish carpenter has to start with the grudge work. I always paid attention.”
“It shows.”
“Thank you.”
The moment stretched out, neither of them moving. Then—
“Ryan? Nicole?” Aunt Eileen’s voice floated up from below. “You two about done up there?”
The spell broke. Nicole turned toward the ladder. “Coming!”
“All set?” Aunt Eileen asked as they reached the ground floor. She had her purse over one shoulder and keys in hand, clearly ready to go.
“Yeah.” Nicole brushed dust off her jeans. “This is going to be a great project.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Aunt Eileen beamed, then turned to face Ryan. “Morgan is having a difference of opinion with the main camera guy. You may want to go referee, but don’t work too late, we’re having a full house for supper tonight.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He tipped his hat at his aunt and watched her loop her elbow with Nicole and walk away chatting like a couple of schoolgirls after cheerleading practice. What he didn’t know was if that was a good or bad thing. He loved his aunt, but he wasn’t sure he wanted her bonding with his crew, especially this one if it involved every embarrassing story from his childhood. Stepping under the open doorway, he caught sight of Jet standing outside, watching Aunt Eileen and their new carpenter strolling to his aunt’s truck. Every hair on the back of his neck told him that trouble was coming, and he didn’t like it one little bit.
Chapter Four
Nicole had seen plenty of ranches in Oklahoma. Her high school boyfriend’s family had raised cattle. Her college roommate spent summers at her uncle’s horse ranch. But nothing prepared her for the sight of the Farraday spread as Aunt Eileen’s truck turned under a weathered wooden arch.
