A Cowgirl's Secret - By Laura Marie Altom Page 0,39
you excited that we get to go inside?”
Not really. “Just for a second, put aside any romanticism you might have for the old girl. Have you for one second considered how long the renovation would take? Not to mention, the cost?”
“Quit being a Debbie Downer and zip it.” Cautiously following her son’s path, she added, “The only reason you’re even here is because of the whole tree fort thing.”
“Yeah, well, if you buy this monstrosity, you might as well be living in a tree.” Why’d she have to smell so good? The flowery scent distracted him from further discussion of the house’s flaws. When her heel poked through a floor board, Luke was further bothered by having to catch her perfectly rounded derriere.
“Oops.” Clinging to him, her cheeks flushed. “Thanks for the save. Guess that plank needs to be replaced.”
“You think?”
“After J. T. Peterson died at the ripe old age of 101,” Vera said in the living room, standing in front of a spectacular carved mantel, “the house sat vacant for ten years. Last year, the family tried renting it, but with no central heat or air, that didn’t go so well.”
The ceilings rose a good twelve feet and the entry-hall staircase beat anything Luke had seen, the way it hugged the oval room in a gentle rise. Though the house was no doubt infested with termites, mice and more than a few ghosts, it would really be something if it were ever to be restored—by, he hoped, anyone other than Daisy.
Upstairs, the bedrooms featured all manner of kooky angles to accommodate turrets and cupolas and stained-glass bays. The hardwood floors were in crappy condition. In many areas the ceiling looked as if it were caving in. The whole place reeked of dust and mildew and judging by Daisy’s enraptured expression, she’d already made her decision.
“Mom! Look!” Kolt had found another winding staircase, this one leading to an attic that ran the full length of the house. Dormer windows allowed for plenty of natural light. “Have you ever seen so much cool stuff?” He’d found a chest filled with books and old clothes. Slapping a bowler hat on his head, he asked, “Do I look old-timey?”
“Absolutely,” Daisy said. “Anything in there for me?”
He fished out a sailor’s cap. “How’s this?”
“Perfect,” she said with a breezy smile Luke hadn’t seen in years. “How do I look?”
“Okay, I guess—for a mom.” She stuck out her tongue at their son.
“I want one.” Luke mounted the last few steps. “No fair you two having all the fun.”
“All that’s left is this.” Kolt tossed Luke a pillbox hat covered in torn netting and sporting a limp feather.
“Gee, thanks.”
“Put it on!” Kolt demanded. “Mom can take a picture with her phone.”
Laughing as the three of them squeezed together, Daisy stood in the center, extending her arm to snap the picture.
“Let me see.” Kolt grabbed the phone. “Awesome! We look cool!”
“What a nice family you all make,” Vera noted, popping her head above the railing. If only the newcomer to Weed Gulch knew of their rocky past, she wouldn’t have been so quick to judge. “What do you think of the house?”
“I love it,” Daisy said, “but I am daunted by all the work.”
As she should be. But Luke remembered the fun he’d had fixing up his cabin. It hadn’t been in much better shape, although it was considerably smaller, and the project hadn’t been quite so massive in scale. Truthfully, he was a little jealous. For all its flaws, the home would one day be quite a jewel.
Vera waved off Daisy’s concerns. “I’ll hook you up with the names of dozens of reliable contractors. Besides, the heirs are pushing for a quick sale. This is the perfect time to get a lowball offer through.”
“HAPPY?” LUKE ASKED. Daisy had signed her offer papers and they now sat at Lucky’s Diner. While Daisy finished her BLT, Luke worked on the roast beef special. Kolt was long gone; he’d run into a friend from school at the Realtor’s office, and Jonah’s mother had taken him to their house to play.
“I am.” Dredging her fry in ketchup, she said, “I need a project.”
“Thought that’s what your legal clinic was?”
“It is, but that occupies my days.” Swirling artificial sweetener into iced tea, her expression turned wistful. “The house will give me something to do nights and weekends. Don’t take this as a thinly veiled plea for your companionship, but I get lonely. After Kolt goes to bed, there’s only so much