The Delivery of Decor (Shiloh Ridge Ranch in Three Rivers #7) - Liz Isaacson Page 0,36

the guitar?”

“Yes,” he said. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You didn’t,” she said. “For some reason, I couldn’t fall asleep in that bedroom. I came out to the couch, and I was out like a light.”

Ward smiled at her. “I’m glad.” He finished his toast and reached over to cover her hand with his. “You were warm enough?”

“Plenty warm,” she confirmed.

Ward watched her as she ate with her free hand, the warmth and silky quality of her skin touching his magical and heartwarming. He wanted to run his hand down the side of her face and draw her close for a kiss.

She looked up and met his eye, and Ward’s face grew instantly hot. He told himself she couldn’t see the fantasies inside his head, but that didn’t stop his embarrassment.

He stood and picked up his plate. “I’m going to go check on the gasoline right now. You can shower or whatever. There are clean towels in the drawers in the bathroom. You’ve got a toothbrush. There’s shampoo and conditioner and body wash in the shower. All of it.”

“Okay,” she said.

Ward went down the hall to his bedroom without another word, wondering why he’d turned so awkward around Dot. He’d already kissed her, for crying out loud. He changed into his jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He covered that with a sweatshirt and pulled on wool socks.

He’d wear work boots, but they were out by the garage exit, as was his coat, hat, and gloves. Dot stood eating the leftover avocadoes with a spoon when he re-entered the kitchen. “You have to go outside?” she asked.

“Just to the shed,” he said. “It’s maybe fifty feet. I’ll take a rope like I did with the wood.” He pulled on his boots and continued getting dressed to face the elements. Ready and sweating, he turned toward her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Like I said, go shower.”

She nodded, and Ward wondered what she’d put on if she did shower. The clothes she’d worn yesterday? He’d hate that, but he didn’t say anything. He just nodded and left through the garage door, went quickly down the steps, and moved over to the gas cans in the corner of the garage.

They were all empty. Every last one of them. “Great,” he said with a sigh, though he hadn’t truly thought any of them would have gas in them. They didn’t store cans full of gasoline in the garage. If there was a fire, the whole thing could go up in flames in a matter of seconds.

He had gas in a tank out by the shed, and the ranch had a massive gas tank behind their main barn. They used it to fill tractors and trucks, and they got it wholesale for a much cheaper price than he could get at any station in town.

He picked up two cans and faced the back door in the corner of the garage. He first had to check the generator, but it sat just around the corner from the door.

The wind dang near clawed off his face the moment he tried to step outside. It cut straight through his hat and gloves and seeped through the fibers of his coat. His jeans felt frozen now, and he hadn’t even left the garage yet.

In fact, he closed the door and took a deep breath, steeling himself to try again. After a few seconds, he opened the door again, ready for the sharp teeth of the wind and the blustery quality of the air. It didn’t seem to go into his lungs right, no matter how hard he sucked at it.

He kept one hand on the house as he went right this time. Around the corner he inched, until he finally arrived at the generator. A steady red light on the panel indicated it was out of gas. If the power went out, the generator would be of no use to them.

Ward turned and put his left hand on the house, switching the empty gas cans to his right hand. In clear weather, he’d be able to see past the old, rickety swing set his daddy and Uncle Stone had built for the boys to the big red shed in the corner of the back yard. Daddy had never wanted a big yard, because it was just more work, and Ward had made the trek from garage to shed dozens of times. Probably hundreds. It was only a few strides with his long legs, and he reasoned that