Page 85 of Hearts on the Mend

“Maybe we could paint Ruby’s room? Paint some otters. She’d love that.”

Her smile softens. “There you go again, being all sweet.”

“Don’t tell anyone. You’ll blow my cover.”

As she crosses her heart, she steps just out of reach. “What else do you think we should do?”

“The house is a mess, but it has good bones. I think there’s potential with the barn. Ruby would love chickens. The gardens need love, and the exterior could use a new paint job. But that space across the street would be a great spot for horses. If you wanted some again. The small woodshed in the back would be a great woodworking shop.”

“Those don’t seem like quick fixes before…”

“Just dream with me.” I tug at the collar of my shirt.

The problem is, after hours spent ripping out old tile, stripping off layers of wallpaper, and refinishing wood floors in a house that isn’t mine, it’s getting easier for me to imagine a home here with kids running through the screen door, their skin sun-kissed from a long summer day outside playing by the pond beside the barn. A dog on their heels. Can imagine what it would feel like to officially make Ruby and Cassie mine, to sleep with my wife in our bed each night. To live a life I never thought was going to be in the cards for me.

“That sounds beautiful,” she says quietly.

“Just like you.”

Judging by the small smile she flashes me, she thinks I’m flirting again. But I’m not. A future with Cassie and Ruby would be beautiful. Chickens and dogs and hand-painted bird wallpaper. All of it.

And I want it more than anything. I just don’t know how to keep it.

Cassie stuffs her hands into the pockets of her jacket and kicks a ball of snow across the road from the bottom of the driveway as we catch our breath from a run along the back road.

A cool March breeze blows through the bare trees, whistling over the compacted piles of snow. There’re already a few patches of brown grass sticking up along the receding edges. The wind is coming off the harbor, heavy with salt and the smell of her perfume.

“There used to be a good trail you could take from across the street that went to the beach. It was my favorite thing to do when I visited Ruth in the summer.”

“I bet Ruby would love it.” I brace my hands on my hips, ignoring the sharp digging pain in my lower back. “Area’s still fenced. And that must have been the old stable?” I point to the weathered outbuilding in desperate need of a new roof.

“Feeling okay?” she asks.

I’m about to nod before I wipe at my forehead and shake my head no. There’s no point in lying now. Some days are better than others, and my scars feel too tight with the cold winter air. I’ve been pushing myself hard, and I worry I still won’t get cleared in time to make it out for the start of fire season. Half of my team was laid off last year because of budget cuts. I can’t let an already stretched team down. It’s too dangerous.

“I’ll help,” she says, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the house. “And before you say anything, get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Whatever you say, Mama.”

“Should be illegal for you to say things like that.”

We push through the front door and kick off our sneakers. She leads me up to the shower, strips us both naked, and pushes me under the warm water.

“Shower first, then I can give you a massage if it’ll help.”

“If you think that’s all we’re going to do.” I nearly growl, sweeping aside her hair to kiss her neck.

“We do have the house to ourselves…”

“Hellcat…”

“Yeah?”

“You know what I dream about?”

Water beads up and rolls down the tip of her nose, and she pulls her lower lip between her teeth.

“Putting a big bathtub in this room.”