When he reached the porch, the sound of a guitar drifted through the screen door. Not the soulful blues from the Pelican Pub, but the deliberate, repetitive C-major scale, followed by a soft, encouraging voice.
“Good, Jamie. Now, remember to keep your thumb behind the neck. Don’t let it peek over the top like a little spy.”
Quietly, he set his toolbox on the top step and went back to his car for the coffee and bag from the Bread Basket. He’d been serious about the food, but her day had started earlier than he thought. Another assumption that missed the mark.
Unwilling to interrupt the lesson, he walked around the front of the house, looking for anything that might need immediate attention. Aside from a bit of pine pollen staining the steps and railing, everything out here seemed to be in order. As the guitar student shifted from basic scales to an actual song, Cooper noticed the fairy garden.
He smiled, imagining Scarlett and Cora tending to every tiny detail.
“Again, Jamie. Slow and steady.”
Cooper looked up as Scarlett came through the screen door. She wore a long-sleeved tee with the sleeves pushed up over worn jeans that hugged her legs. Her hair was pulled back, leaving her face unframed. Somehow, seeing her at home like this felt like a breach of privacy. “I’m too early.”
“Your timing is fine,” she said, voice neutral. She pushed the screen door open. “I had to move a few things around. We’re nearly done. You can start on the shelves in the laundry room. I need to reinforce one of the brackets. It’s leaning.” She waved him closer. “Well, you’ll see for yourself.”
Cooper walked up the steps and grabbed his toolbox, giving a nod to the bakery bag and drink carrier. “They gave me your regular orders,” he said. “At the Perk and the bakery.” Scarlett’s lips twitched and he thought of the days when he had theprivilege of kissing her soft lips. “I’m sure she’ll be delighted with whatever you brought.”
“And you?”
Her gaze slid away. “Laundry room is through the kitchen to the left.”
He tried not to stare at the guitars mounted like artwork over the small sofa in the front room. With a short, apologetic nod to the kid who stopped playing as he walked through the front room, Cooper went to find the task she’d assigned.
It was impossible not to look around for his daughter. Was she at a friend’s house or maybe a soccer game? From what he’d gleaned from his friends with kids, Cora was the right age for that. But if she had an event of some kind Scarlett should’ve mentioned it. He didn’t want to think she was deliberately putting up roadblocks and keeping his little girl from him, but it crossed his mind.
Would he have done the same in her shoes?
Not the time to slide down that emotional rabbit hole. She’d let him into her home. He had to believe they would find a way through this awkwardness.
In the laundry room, he turned a full circle and considered the term “room” a gross overstatement. The space was little more than a cramped closet between the kitchen and the back door. He bounced a little, testing the floor. It was sturdy, but the threshold felt higher than normal. This couldn’t have been part of the original structure.
Overall, the cottage was small but airy. The familiar scents of lemon wax and old sheet music tickled his nose as he walked through. Back here, the clean laundry scents blended with fresh cut grass and… mud? Following his nose, he spotted small garden shoes printed with strawberries on the mat near the door.
It was too easy to imagine Cora wearing those shoes during fairy garden construction. “Damn,” he muttered. He’d missed so much.
“Momma says that’s a bad word.”
Cooper spun around, immediately captivated by Cora. She stared up at him with those eyes so like his own. “Um. Yes. She’s right. My apologies. And good morning.”
Good grief, he was rambling, though Cora didn’t seem to mind. “Whatcha doing?”
“I’m about to fix this shelf.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Want to give me a hand?”
“How?” Her mouth twisted as she studied the shelf in question. “I’m small and you’re super-tall.”
He grinned. “Bet you’re the tallest in your class.” That had been the case for him and his sisters.
She shrugged. “Guess so. Mom says you’re handy.” Her matter-of-fact speech was like chatting with Scarlett. “The shelf is broken because I tried to climb it to get the bubbles.” She pointed. “I’m not supposed to climb, but the bubbles were very high up. Would I have to climb to help you?”
“I think so.” Cooper’s heart hammered against his ribs. He wanted to kneel, to pull her into a hug, to breathe in the sweet fragrance of her hair. Instead, he gripped the handle of his toolbox. “Maybe together we can make it climber-proof.”
“Better if you learned to be patient, Bug,” Scarlett said, joining them.
The little girl sighed, shoulders slumping dramatically. “I tried. It doesn’t work.”
Cooper smothered a laugh. “Something to practice,” he managed, crouching low to open his toolbox.
“Like your manners,” Scarlett scooped up her daughter. “Are you hungry? Our friend Cooper brought us some treats from the bakery.”
