He looked at her then, meeting her gaze. “That doesn’t mean you can’t allow yourself to.”
Meryl looked away first, back toward the garden and the mountains beyond it.
“You’re right,” she said quietly.
“That’s because I am.”
She gave a short laugh. “Such self-confidence, Spencer.”
“I prefer hopeful and optimistic. You can either fight what needs to be done or accept it. Accepting it takes far less energy. Energy you can put into doing the thing.”
A corner of her mouth lifted, and for a second the look she gave him was unguarded enough to make his heart skip.
Then she stood, brushed the crumbs from her jeans, and set her empty mug aside. “You’re right. So let’s put our energy into doing the thing.”
“Yes. That’s the spirit. The sooner we get started, the sooner it’ll be done,” Spencer said.
And the sooner Meryl might put the cottage on the market,his bear grumbled.
Or the sooner she might see what this place could really be. What her life here could be,Spencer replied.
“Oh, I don’t think we’re going to be finished anytime soon.” She glanced toward her notebook. “My list keeps getting longer, not shorter.”
That made him laugh, and they went back to work, the brief tension between them gone.
They fell into their now-familiar rhythm, Meryl measuring and marking while Spencer cut and secured the new porch boards. The morning slowly warmed, and somewhere in the distance a woodpecker drummed against a tree.
“You’re getting good at this,” Spencer observed as Meryl confidently positioned a joist hanger.
She glanced up, a flash of pride crossing her face before she shrugged. “I have a good teacher.”
It was a simple compliment, but to Spencer it meant so much. More than she could ever know.
Our mate is clever. She learns quickly,his bear preened.
She’s not ours yet,Spencer reminded him, though the word yet slipped in before he could stop it.
By midday, they had completed half of the west side of the porch. Spencer straightened, stretching his back, just as Meryl stepped into the front room and tried to pull the window down. It scraped along the frame and then stuck fast.
She frowned and pushed harder. The sash shifted another inch, then caught again.
“Problem?” Spencer asked, already heading toward the doorway.
Meryl glanced back at him. “This thing keeps doing that.” She gave it another tug. “I get it nearly shut, and then it decides to fight me.”
He came up beside her. “Here, let me.”
She stepped back, and he put one hand on the frame, testing the drag before easing the sash down lower, until it scraped the frame again and stuck fast.
Meryl folded her arms. “See?”
“I see.” He looked at the brass catch, then at the frame. “It’s not far off. Just a little out of line.”
“That describes quite a lot about this house.”
That won a smile from him.
She can see the funny side,his bear approved.
