“Bull on that, too, but it is freakishly neat in here for someone who barely has time to tie his own shoes, let alone vacuum.”
He put his hands in the air. “Okay. I confess. Belinda comes down once a week after she’s done with the guest cabins.”
“Aha.” She took another sip of wine as she looked around. “I’ve always loved log cabins. There’s just something—I don’t know—so cozy about them.”
Cole’s cabin looked like a mini version of the main lodge up the hill, with polished countertops, maple cabinets, and braided rugs over plank flooring that looked rustic, but had probably cost a mint somewhere back in time.
The kitchen and living room were all one big space, separated only by an island with a little prep sink on top and wine fridge below. The kitchen window looked up the hill toward the stables and lodge, but the big windows in the living room looked out onto just trees.
She slid off her barstool and walked toward the windows, drawn by the sound of water coming through the screens. “Is that Whisper Creek I can hear?”
“Yep. Still running a little high because of the snowpack this year.” He walked over to the window, stopping behind her and pointing over her shoulder. “See that set of three pines right there?”
“I think I might have used one of them to help haul myself out of the creek, yes.”
“That’s where the snappers nest.”
“Fantastic.” She turned toward him, catching her breath when she found him closer than she expected. “You know, I get that you don’t want guests to think this place is anything but sunshine and pretty horses, but could you guys maybe come up with a warning manual for friends and family?”
“Not a bad idea.” He stepped back toward the kitchen, then pulled a big pot out of a lower cupboard. “Might save us a lot of trouble in the end, especially with the three of you gals.”
She followed him. “So do I get to see the secret wing sauce recipe? Since—y’know—I’m family and all?”
“I don’t know if I can trust you with it.” He winked. “ ’Course, you’re from Boston, so I guess you wouldn’t have much use for it back east.”
“Are you kidding? Have you been to Boston on a Red Sox or Patriots weekend? There are a lot of chickens who give their lives for New England sports.”
Cole laughed. “Okay, then. I definitely can’t share the recipe. You’d have it up for sale in three seconds flat.”
“Better than calendars, right? Maybe you could convince Kyla to look into bottling your secret sauce instead.”
He adjusted a dial on the stove. “Now that, cowgirl, is an idea. Except it takes about three days and way too many hours to cook it up just right. I actually made it ahead. We just have to reheat it.” He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out two enormous bags of red sauce, handing one to her as he closed the door.
Just then there was a scrabbling noise at the front door, and then an enormous pile of fur flew through it like there were demons on his tail.
“Oh, no.” Cole barely had time to get the words out before a dog the size of a small pony spun into the kitchen area, claws trying to get traction, but losing to momentum. Without thinking, Jess ducked toward Cole, raising the bag of sauce in front of her for protection.
“Moose! No!” Cole put out a hand, but it was too late. The dog flew toward them both, putting up his paws at the last second to brace himself.
And then there was a horrible popping sound as Moose’s claws met bulging bags of fresh barbecue sauce, and then there was a splatting sound as said sauce sprayed the entire kitchen bright red. Jess heard the sound of her own squeaking as the cold sauce seeped through her dress and down her neck and into her shoes, but her squeals were no match for the deep growl that came out of Cole one second later.
“Moose, you big oaf. Bad dog!” He pushed the Saint Bernard firmly down off his chest, laughing. Moose complied, sitting down with a loopy dog-grin, wagging his furry tail through the barbecue sauce he’d just slopped all over the floor.
Cole grabbed his collar and guided him out the door, then locked it behind him. He turned around, and Jess had to cover her mouth as she watched him survey the damage. He shook his head. “Oh.