The Hero I Need by Nicole Snow
Tiger’s Den (Willow)
Ibite my bottom lip at the way Grady’s entire being quivers.
He’s trying to put on a brave face and hide it, but it’s too freaking late. The poor guy’s out of his element.
Head lice is no laughing matter, but it’s not the end of the world.
I had it once as a kid when my entire school came down with a bad case of creepy crawlies. Some rancid-smelling shampoo and a fine-toothed comb made quick work of it.
His daughters are adorable, though, and not quite identical like I expected. One’s a little taller, and they both have long dark hair, the same shade as his.
For some crazy reason, I keep glancing at the woman by the door, wondering who she is.
With short dark hair cut fashionably and lines around her eyes, the woman must be in her fifties. I can’t assume she’s a girlfriend unless Grady’s tastes run much older, but who knows.
Who cares.
I’m not here to wonder about the women in his life, right?
Especially when I’ve got a bashful little face staring at me over her father’s shoulder, blinking like she isn’t sure if I’m a ghost.
“Hey, Dad...who’s she?” the kid asks.
Delightful.
Grady lets go of his girls and slowly turns, staring at me with the same look a deer gives a rapidly approaching pickup truck.
Inwardly, I flinch, but I pull up a cheery smile for the girls and the strange woman staring at me.
“This is, uh—”
“Willow,” I prompt, when I’m sure he can’t remember my name in his panic.
“Yeah, Willow, she’s here for...” Grady clears his throat, his eyes searching mine.
Don’t worry, big guy. I’ve got you covered.
“Saving your lives! From messes, I mean. I cleaned this whole floor of the house, but I wasn’t sure where to put your clothes,” I say, dredging up my best excuse.
I certainly can’t fess up to the fact that I’ve brought a flipping tiger onto their farm and I’m basically a fugitive at this point.
Pointing to the piles of clothes still on the coffee table, I smile again. “I wasn’t sure what belongs to you girls. Care to help a nanny out?”
“Nanny?” The twins say it simultaneously.
They stare at me, taking me in, then look at their father like they aren’t sure.
Oof.
Tough crowd.
Not that I can blame them.
I’d be doing the same thing if I was ten years old and dear old Dad brought a total stranger into the house without any warning.
“Hello, Willow,” the older woman cuts in. “I’m Joyce, a good friend of Grady’s. I’m so glad he finally listened and hired a nanny while Faye left town! Hope the head lice thing won’t scare you off. This is out of the ordinary. We all take good care of these two little angels. Lord knows he needs the help sometimes, right, papa bear?”
Nanny?Oh, God, I said it, didn’t I?
Now I’m the one who’s tongue-tied, and I’m also curious why he needs so much help.
Grady gives his friend a pained smile. “The day I turn down an extra pair of hands, you’re welcome to slap me upside the head, Joyce.”
“Well, your load’s already lighter. My hairdresser met me at my place and treated the girls as soon as I picked them up this morning. I left you enough shampoo in a bag on the porch for another round. You’re welcome.” Joyce beams another pearl-white smile around the room.
“You’re a rock star,” Grady tells her before turning back to me. “I put an ad online and Willow answered it yesterday. Lucky me. She was looking for quick work and I was desperate to clean the place up, so here we are. Getting along like two strays on catnip.”
He gives me a brown-eyed wink.
Holy crap.
I hold in a laugh, both amused and nervous as hell at his cheesy innuendo.
Sure, I have to go along with this. Don’t have a choice. But we’re really rolling with this nanny thing?
Wow.
This is going to take some serious acting, and I sucked at theater in high school.
Fortunately, I did have a string of nannies growing up.
“Nice to meet you, Joyce, and it’s no big deal. I’ve dealt with lice before,” I say, still smiling. At least that’s no lie. “I’ll give them both a thorough checkup and get their things in the washer right away.”
Then I notice two sets of big brown eyes still glued to me, thickly lashed just like their father’s.
I wave a hand.
“Hi. Sawyer and Avery, right? Nice to meet you,” I say, unsure which girl is which.
The shorter one, by less than half an inch, smiles softly and waves a few fingers back.
The taller one frowns and gives me a slight bashful nod when Grady gently taps her shoulder, as if prompting her.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Oh, I can’t tell you what a relief this is, Willow,” Joyce gushes, her eyes sparkling, having also seen Grady’s reaction to touching his daughter. “I feel so much better leaving them now, knowing Grady doesn’t have to deal with this on his own. Good timing, too. I’ve got an appointment to get my car fumigated, just to be on the safe side.”
I nod, wondering again how this older woman who isn’t related fits in their life.
So does Grady before he says, “Thanks for picking them up, Joyce. I appreciate it. Have the car detailed at Berland’s and tell him to send me the bill.”
“Nonsense, it needed a deep cleaning anyway. They can have it for the next two days while I’m in Montana. Perfect fishing weather, and you know how antsy my daughter gets for company in Missoula.” With a friendly parting wave, she adds, “Hey, Willow, call me if you have any issues. I’m always glad to help and I know this place like the back of my hand.”
“I will,” I respond, even though it’s a lie.
I won’t be here that long and I’m definitely not a real nanny.
As soon as she leaves, Grady pivots back to the girls, dad-mode fully activated. “Go on, you munchkins. Upstairs, shower, put on clean clothes, and bring the ones you’re wearing straight down to the laundry room. Don’t touch anything on the way to your rooms.”
“Aw, Dad,” the shorter girl says, pouting for a second before she sighs and trails after her sister. “Fiiine.”
I look up at the ceiling and shake my head, but I wait until the girls are running up the stairs before I open my mouth.
“So we’ve found your weakness, huh? Cooties?” I have to rib him. The opportunity is too good to pass up.
He runs a stiff hand through his thick crop of hair, grumbling under his breath. Then his shoulders quiver again as he snatches his hand back, staring like he just touched a hot plate.
“Relax, dude. You can’t catch them that easily! Lice don’t have gliders and parachutes to get to your head.” Chuckling, I walk toward the staircase. “Also, they should take a bath, not a shower. You don’t want them to rinse out the medicated shampoo they’ve just been treated with.”
He watches me silently without so much as a nod.
I swallow, hoping I’m not being too presumptuous here.
I’ve only had lice once, but I’ve dealt with fleas, mites, and more pests than I could ever name on long trips overseas with Dad into the wild.
He touches my arm. It’s a light touch, a friendly touch, but for some unholy reason, it’s just like before.
That skin contact with his rough, thick hand makes my arm tingle.
Oh, God.
What is it about this dude?
I’m not the kinda girl who goes melty for any man.
Definitely not the kind who goes weak in the knees, fighting off swarms of butterflies.
“Willow, I’m sorry for that shitshow. I blanked. Couldn’t think up a better reason why you’re here, much less why you’d be staying in the guest room. Don’t think they noticed that part. We’ll have to explain it later.”
I shrug like it’s nothing, trying not to rub my arm as I pull away.
“Forget it. You’re helping me, and it’s only fair I help you until Bruce and I make our great escape.” The thudding door has me heading for the stairs again. “I’d better get up there before they jump in the shower.”
If we’re going with this nanny story, I’d better play the part.
The upstairs looks like it’s been refurbished as well. Hardwood floors gleam with varnish, and all of the trim wood glows papery white, just like downstairs. The doors are a dark grey, which pops nicely with the white trim and soft grey walls.
I spot two doors, both closed. A purple heart hangs on one with Sawyer painted on it, and there’s a pink one on the door across the hall with Avery.
I knock on Avery’s door first, and after I’m given permission, I open it.
“Hey there. Just came up to let you know a bath would be better than a shower. You don’t want to wash out the shampoo the hairdresser used.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Her eyes flit around nervously before looking back at me. “So...you’re really going to be our nanny? Like a live-in one?”
“Looks that way,” I say, giving her a wink. Then I pull the door shut and cross the hall.
Sawyer asks the same question, a little more boldly, and I give her the what and why.
Once they’re both taking turns in the bath, I strip their beds.
It’s doubtful they had lice before camp, but I might as well take every precaution for Grady’s sake.
The whole bug thing wigs him out, and he’s been too good to me.
Thankfully, the girls leave their clothes outside of their bathroom door, just like I’d asked. I bundle the clothes up with the bedding and carry it down to the laundry room to stuff it in the washer.
Grady’s nowhere in sight, probably not in the house.
I rummage around and find a few large trash bags in the pantry, then take them to the front porch, where I dump the contents of the girls’ duffel bags into separate bags before stuffing everything into a couple more huge trash bags. Once they’re all tied off, I leave the contaminated stuff on the porch for later, after the washer and dryer are freed up.
The girls are out of the tubs and dressed when I return upstairs with the stacks of fresh clothes from the living room. They put everything away like the angels they seem to be, and then help me gather new bedding.
Usually, when chores are involved, it doesn’t take long to find out how well behaved kids really are.
So far, I’m impressed.
Grady and his helpers have done their job right with these girls.
The twins are both workers, eager to help and friendly, even if they might still be a little weirded out by my presence.
“Aunt Faye had us change the bedding before she left,” Sawyer says, scratching her neck. “You’re sure you wanna tackle this stuff again?”
“I don’t mind. We’re just going the extra mile for your dad.” I slip the pillowcase onto a pillow and set it on the bed, fluffing it a few times with a smile.
“Yeah, he gets funny with the strangest things. He’s such a dad,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“It’s nothing unusual. I had lice when I was young, about your age, and my father was just as creeped out.”
“What about your mom?” Avery asks, flopping down on the end of the bed.
I slip the second pillow in its case and try not to frown.
“Well, my mom died when I was three, so it was always just Dad and me.”
“Really?” Sawyer stops, leveling a skeptical gaze on me.
I can’t blame her.
She probably thinks I’m BSing just to make friends, but sadly I’m not.
Not with this.
“Yes, really. I don’t remember much about my mother, just what I’ve been told. But my dad’s a great guy. He had to travel a lot for work while I was growing up, so I had tons of nannies.”
Avery sits down on the foot of the bed. “We’ve never had a real nanny before. Only Aunt Faye, but she...she had to go take care of her friend in Colorado this summer. Her friend doesn’t have any family and she’s real sick.”
We’re all in Avery’s room. Sawyer sits down on the white chair that matches the desk near the window. “Aunt Faye said Hailey Wood’s mother, Linda, agreed to take care of us, but none of us wanted that.”
Sawyer sticks out her tongue to make a point.
I laugh.
“Oh, why’s that?” I sit down on the edge of the bed.
“She only agreed to because she wants Dad to be her boyfriend!” Sawyer throws back with disgust.
“It’s true,” Avery says with a sigh. “Hailey’s in our grade and her mama’s a lunch lady at school. She’s always like, ‘Oh, my favorite twins! I can’t believe how much you look like your daddy.’ So annoying.”
“And gross!” Sawyer chirps, making exaggerated kissy faces in the air.
Hilarious.
I remember a few women on the prowl after my dad and how cringey it could get. But I turn the subject to school, wondering what grade they’re in.
“Fifth,” Sawyer answers sharply. “One more year till middle school.”
I smile, knowing they’ll probably be a lot more concerned about their own crushes soon rather than their dad’s romantic life, but I don’t tease them.
I just let them prattle on about their teachers, Aunt Faye, the many times Linda Wood tried to hit Grady with cupid’s arrow, and little hints of their small-town lives.
A short time later, we make our way downstairs.
I’m relieved I can relate to these adorable girls, and so far they don’t hate me.
It helps that I’ve been in their shoes, raised by a single father.
Also, they’re twins, but opposites in many ways. Their personalities define them, and I really like that.
Back in the kitchen, Grady sits at the kitchen table with another man, a green-eyed hulk with tattoos and rakish sandy-brown hair. He looks like he’s only a couple inches shorter than Grady himself.
God, what’s in the air here?
Is Dallas, North Dakota, some kinda weird magnet for the hottest men on Earth?
“Howdy, ma’am. I’m guessing you’re Miss Willow...”
Faulk—which must be a single syllable nickname play on his last name, Faulkner—introduces himself and makes me feel like he’s sincerely glad to meet me. Surprising when he must know by now I’ve brought nothing but trouble to his friend’s doorstep.
I watch as the two men make small talk with the girls until they get antsy, right before Grady says they can go ride their four-wheelers while the adults talk about “boring tax crap.”
If he stumbled over our cover story earlier, he’s become a total smoothie now, and I smile.
“Don’t forget your helmets, ladies!” he belts out after them. “I’ll be watching.”
Then my eyes fall to the table in the eerie silence.
My laptop rests there with all the damning, but hidden data I hope I’ve stolen from the rescue. Faulk has some sort of small black external device hooked up to it that looks like a tiny box. There’s also a second laptop on the table, presumably his.
As soon as the girls are gone, Grady looks at me.
“He’s transferring what he can to an external drive, then we’ll get it on a secured cloud backup and hook it up to my computer,” he tells me.
“Yep, it’ll be a while before I transfer it to the other machine,” Faulk says. “Right now, we’re just aiming to get backups. Can’t let whatever’s on this thing disappear into the ether.”
Faulk rattles off a litany of techno-babble terms that are over my head, all the things involved with securing, storing, and decrypting data.
“So we won’t know what we’ve actually got for a while?” Grady asks.
“Yep, no telling till I get a good look. We could be talking hours, or days.” Faulk’s eyes gleam like emeralds as he rakes his fingers through his hair. “Soon as I’m in, you’ll be the first to know.”
Grady stands and takes my arm. I gasp and instantly feel like an idiot. His touch is always gentle, yet here I am jumping like he hit me with a cattle prod.
Seriously embarrassing.
“You need a minute?” he bites off.
“No, no, I just...you surprised me. I’m fine.” I pause for a breath. “I’m ready for this, guys. Lay it on me. The good, the bad, and the ugly.”
“And we will, just as soon as we check on the girls. They never go messing around the barn, but I want to make damn sure,” he growls. “Be back shortly.”
Faulk nods at us as Grady escorts me out the sliding glass door.
“The four-wheelers get parked in the pole shed when they’re not using them,” he says as we round the corner of the house.
The barn is to the left of the house and the pole shed, as well as a wood shed, and two other metal storage units are up ahead, directly on the other side of the driveway.
“Are they real four-wheelers?” I ask, knowing the girls are only ten.
“Yep. Both Hondas that are better for kids. They’ve been riding them for a couple years with me, and now they’re old enough to stick to the trails around my place, where I know it’s safe.”
“They’re such nice girls, very polite and—”
“Talkative,” he offers. “I’m sure they’ve told you everything about our lives.”
“Not everything,” I say. “Just enough. I know your Aunt Faye went to Colorado to take care of a sick friend and set up a woman to help you with the girls...but it sounds like all three of you said no to that idea.”
His grimace says it all and I try not to laugh.
Apparently, the girls weren’t exaggerating about how much Hailey’s mom chases him. No need to look hard to find out why.
He’s a bearded Hercules, sociable and nice, growly and guarded in a sexy way I can’t describe. But I also know that just like my dad, Grady’s daughters are his life.
Period and end of story.
If he wanted a woman, he’d have no trouble finding her and moving her in. The fact that he hasn’t means he has zero interest in romance.
“Sorry again about the nanny thing, even if it was your idea,” he grinds out. “My only other option would’ve been to say you were a new employee from the Bobcat, but they’d have seen through that one easy. I don’t invite waitresses to stay at my house.”
I laugh. “You wouldn’t have wanted me to pretend I’m a waitress. I couldn’t pull that one off if I tried, but a nanny...” I shrug. “I had enough of those growing up and I’ve seen what they do.”
The overhead door on the pole shed raises, and before it’s all the way up, two identical lime-blue four-wheelers come roaring out with Sawyer on one, wearing a blue helmet, and Avery with a lime green helmet on the other.
“See? Helmets!” Sawyer yells, tapping the side of her head.
Grady holds up a hand and they wheel up next to him, stopping, but don’t turn off their ATVs.
He checks the helmet straps on each girl, then their gloves and knee pads, and what he calls the kill strap that each girl has strapped on their wrists.
“Stay on the short track, girls,” he tells them.
“We will,” Sawyer says. “We know the rules. Sheesh.”
“We’re going to pick some flowers near the creek,” Avery says. “I want to press them in the notebook with the poems I’ve written.”
My heart softens for her. She’s a really sweet kid.
Sawyer is a bit harder, more serious, more impatient, but she has an explorer’s heart. I’m glad that they balance each other out. I remember how tough being alone with nobody but Dad could be.
“All right,” Grady says. “I expect a check-in within the hour. Don’t make me come looking.”
“We know!” they say at the same time.
He gives them a final nod and off they go, zooming around us, onto a well-worn trail between the house and a wooden split rail fence.
“How far away is the short track?” I ask, watching the girls disappear in the distance.
“About a quarter mile. It circles that pasture and runs on roughly three miles.”
“Three miles?” My eyes are still on the dust being kicked up by the ATVs. “Is there a long track?”
“Yes, it goes around the circumference of the property, and then onto other farms. About ten miles, give or take.”
“Wow. You trust them a lot.” He’s their father, of course, and seemingly a good one but I still have to ask, “Do you think it’s safe to let them out there by themselves?”
“They aren’t alone. They have each other and their phones. They always check in like clockwork every half hour, or I wouldn’t let ’em run off.”
“Yeah, but—”
“But they’ve been doing it for over a year, Willow.” He gives me a sharp look. “I know how old they are, and I trust my girls. I also know I damn well can’t let them find a stolen Bengal tiger in our barn. So we’ll keep them away from the house for a little while, okay?”
Ouch.
But he’s right to push back at my doubts, too.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude or nosy,” I tell him as we continue walking.
What do I know about parenting, anyway? Or about ten-year-old girls when it’s been a long time since I was one?
Come to think of it, when I wasn’t much older, Dad let me drive a Jeep with his help during a safari in Kenya. If that isn’t putting a big fat leap of faith in your underage daughter, I don’t know what is.
Honestly, he probably spoiled me more than Grady does his girls.
Humbled, I shut it and follow him back to the barn, where he stops and holds out his arm.
“Here. Take it,” he growls.
I glance at his hand and the small metal object flickering in the sun.
“What’s that?”
“A key,” he tells me.
“Well, yeah, but for what?”
“It fits all of the new padlocks I put on the barn doors this morning. We have to make sure those doors are sealed tight as long as we’re letting a guest like your boy crash inside.” He gives me an easy smile.
Holy hell.
Here comes the guilt trip, and it’s totally my own.
He’s doing all of this for me, and I was questioning his daddy skills.
Hardly a smart move on my part, but ever since he agreed to help me last night, I’ve wondered why.
What the hell motivates a man to take a gamble on a girl in distress with a tiger?
Maybe he’s just got a heart ten times bigger than most. He mentioned the Army a couple times, and so did his daughters, and I wonder if that’s part of it, too.
I know some people are absolutely fearless after a stint in the military. Or else the armed forces just attract natural heroes.
No fooling, this man would make a gold-star hero or ten. For the hundredth time since I landed here, I’m so grateful I could break.
My arrival in Dallas could’ve gone down worse in so many ways.
“Just one key for all the locks?” I ask, forcing my squirrel of a brain back to the subject.
“All the padlocks are keyed the same on the entire place. I put hasps and locks on the sliders and the side door of the barn.” He glances at the pasture, where plumes of dust are visible, indicating exactly where the girls are driving. “Should keep curious little people from sneaking inside if they hear anything out of the ordinary.”
I bite my lip, nodding.
His gaze grows serious as he looks at me.
“I can’t take that chance. Not once. Can’t have my girls sneaking in here, you understand?” His hands fall to my shoulders, squeezing, and finally I don’t freak out.
I might be a little starstruck, staring into those eyes so much like dark-brown honey pools in the pale sun.
Yep.
He’s a hero, all right.
All fathers are, but Grady? One long look tells me he’d die ten times over for his precious dolls.
And I get it, too. I don’t want to see them in danger.
“Bruce would never hurt them,” I assure him, hoping to ease his fears. “But you’re right to take every precaution.”
“He’s a wild animal with teeth and claws and storm-force that could stomp a grown man’s head into mush. A caged wild animal. No telling what he might do if they snuck in there.”
“He’s gent—” I stop.
His look tells me that he’s not going to believe another word.
Fair enough.
If I was in his shoes, and those were my daughters, I wouldn’t either.
“Sorry, you’re right. You don’t need my promises. I don’t want to see them get hurt any more than you do. I just need my truck fixed and then Bruce and I will be history.”
His thick, dark brows inch up slowly.
“It’s not that simple, darlin’. Faulk says your cell’s been ringing off the hook.”
Oh, crap.
My heart sinks clear to my toes.
I remember I’d left it in the kitchen when the girls came home.
“The rescue?” I ask, knowing and dreading the answer.
He nods sternly. “From at least five different numbers, some with area codes out of state. Faulk installed blocks so nothing can ping your location remotely. Hopefully they haven’t already done it. Whatever you do, don’t turn your GPS back on. They might have all kinds of tricks to track it, or pull that info out of the wireless company if they’ve got an in with the law. He also suggests ignoring all texts. Depending on their carriers, they might know if you’ve ever read the messages.”
“I haven’t. Never opened a single message since I left Minot,” I promise, right before my gut goes into a falling spiral.
Guilt, shame, and remorse twist in my belly like something clawing its way out.
With Faulk busy in the kitchen, that’s one more innocent person I’ve dragged into this crap.
My steps feel like lead as we walk to the house.
Faulk is still there studying his computer screen when we enter the kitchen.
“Update: we’ve got ourselves a location we need to check out,” he says, looking up. “Everything’s encrypted, but there’re a few coordinates and time stamps coming up pretty often from what I’m seeing in the history. I was able to pull a few pics and examine the details. It ain’t too far from here, right near the Montana border. From Google Maps, it’s in the middle of state land, with nothing around for miles. Trouble is, I can’t zoom in too well. This place is out in the sticks and the public satellites only make a pass of those places every few years. I’ll have to drive out there to get a good look on the ground.”
“No,” Grady snaps. “You’re doing enough with this computer shit. I’ll drive out there, Faulk.”
“No, you won’t,” I cut in. “I’ll go myself.”
“In what?” he asks.
Dammit, he’s right. My face falls.
I hate this. Hate how helpless I feel.
Maybe it’s time I should give up and call Dad for advice. He’s somewhere in Africa and not always easy to reach, but I know I could get in touch with him if I need to.
He’s the only person I can totally trust besides these men to call in help. I don’t want to, though, because I know how disappointed he’ll be by what I’ve gotten into.
There’s a part of me that believes my father will understand.
Another part of me fears he’ll be furious.
I just want to make him proud of me.
That’s all I’ve ever hoped for, and this fiasco isn’t helping me accomplish that.
I’m half zoned out, too in my head, listening to Grady and Faulk tossing details back and forth like two generals strategizing a war plan.
I catch snatches of conversation about the town, the shit that keeps happening here. That’s what they call it, even if they don’t elaborate.
“I’m telling you, man, I’m not gonna be the guy to bring another flaming bag of crap to our doorstep,” Grady growls. “I’m not getting any of my friends hurt, especially you. I think having a whole tribe of goats to bail our asses out was a one-time deal.”
Goats? Huh?
Faulk bursts out laughing before his tone turns serious. “Yeah, well, whoever’s doing the driving out to that place...they’d better be mighty careful. There’s no telling what’s hanging out there, or who. Anybody playing scout needs to look like they belong in those parts, not snooping around, you feel me?”
“I know. I’ll take precautions. Maybe break out my gear and the big gun, if I need to,” Grady continues, leaning toward his friend, speaking in this low whisper I think is meant not to worry me.
It does.
All in all, their somewhat heated exchange makes me feel like crap on a cracker.
“Guys? Surely there’s a vehicle I can rent,” I pipe up when I can’t take it anymore. “What if I get one that makes me look like a vacationer? A clueless hiker checking out the area, or something...”
“Hm. I like the subterfuge idea. We’ll bring my four-wheeler along for the ride and make it look like we’re just out exploring,” Grady says before he turns to Faulk again.
I walk to the door while the two big men talk and slip outside.
Bruce should be waking up any time now. While walking to the barn, I scan the pasture, looking for plumes of dust. When I see the girls are still far enough away, I quickly run across the property and enter the barn.
Just like I thought.
Bruce is coming around, but he’s groggy and lethargic, this sleeping orange giant with lidded eyes and yawns like a backfiring exhaust. My heart goes out to him.
He’s so beautiful, and even though he could swallow a moose, he’s helpless.
He’s counting on me, and I’m counting on Grady McKnight.
Honestly, I don’t know who to feel worse for, Bruce or Grady.
Definitely not me.
I’m saving my pity party for a time when I know my favorite tiger won’t be killed.
Grady enters a short time later, and I know another spontaneous apology right now will probably be hollow. Talk is cheap with the expensive trouble I’m causing.
“The beef’s here,” he tells me, entering the storage room with a large crate. “Come on in, Tobin.”
My eyes go up at an unexpected sight.
A well-dressed man wearing a full suit follows him, a determined look behind his spectacles, carrying another large box. Either this weird little town has some really fancy butcher shops, or else the guy dropping it off is somebody’s butler.
Regardless, I leave the pen to go help them.
Grady stops me near the edge. “You keep an eye on Bruce. Tobin and I will bring in the meat, special delivery from my buddy, Ridge. His guy was good enough to bring it out here. Faulk said he’d make sure the girls keep away if they come back to the house early.”
My first instinct is to argue, but if I can smell raw meat, then so can Bruce.
He stands up with another yawn like a small hurricane, stretching as he flicks his tail and licks his chops.
I have to give these guys credit, they’re not used to this like I am.
Very few people would be comfortable carrying boxes full of dinner with a hungry tiger in sniffing range. It doesn’t take long to have all the meat stuffed in the freezer, and several fresh bales of hay carried into the barn for good measure.
Once again, I’m slayed by how much trouble Grady goes through for me, which only deepens my guilt.
The stranger, Tobin, leaves with a dramatic bow, just as mysteriously as he arrived.
A short time later, Faulk’s truck drives off, after he tells Grady he’ll be in touch soon.
Our timing couldn’t be closer.
Seconds later, the girls come racing into the yard, jabbering back and forth like little birds and laughing.
“Hey, Dad. Why did Ridge’s truck have hay in the back of it?” Sawyer asks, pulling her helmet off as her eyes go wide. “Did he drop if off here? Are we finally gonna get a horse?!”
Oh, boy.
The shimmering hope in her eyes has me looking nervously at Grady.
“No, baby,” Grady says. “I’m just busy with some renovations on the barn. You know how old it is.”
“With hay?” she asks with a snort. “Daaaad. If you’re trying to surprise us, it won’t work!”
She’s a sharp one and doesn’t miss much.
That worries me.
“Sorry to disappoint,” I say, chiming in. “But hay actually helps make deep cleaning old floors so much easier. It’ll absorb any moisture in the floor so everything can be swept up easier.”
Sawyer nods with a sigh, disappointment in her eyes.
That was close.
And it still is when Avery speaks up again.
“But, Dad, why are you renovating the barn if it’s not for animals?” she asks, her brows knit together in adorable confusion.
“Storage,” Grady says. “You know I’ve got plenty more to clean out of the back room at the bar from sprucing things up. We just need space for the stuff first.”
“Oh.” Avery’s little face falls and she looks as let down as her sister. “I still don’t see why we can’t have an animal or two. We live on a farm.”
“We’ve had this talk before,” Grady says gently, more for my benefit than theirs, I think.
“We know. And we’ve had the discussion about keeping a pet at Uncle Hank’s house, too. He always says he’d be fine with it,” Sawyer says matter-of-factly, clearly not ready to surrender. “I don’t get why you won’t agree to let us try.”
“Because then you’d have to go over there every day to take care of it,” he answers with a sigh.
“Oh, Daddy. That wouldn’t be so bad!” Avery says.
“Okay.” Grady levels a look at the two pint-sized lawyers making their case. “If you feel that way, I’ll ask Hank to make you help clean out his barn tomorrow. How’s that sound?”
I smile at the clever response, though the tone in Grady’s voice when he mentions Hank makes my spine quiver slightly. Weird.
I get the feeling this Uncle Hank isn’t one of his favorite people...
“Aw, tomorrow?” Sawyer asks, rubbing one eye.
“Yep, you’re both going over there then, so here’s your chance to impress me.” Grady gestures at their ATVs. “Go put those away. It’s time to start supper. We’ll eat early so you two can get some rest for a whole lot of cleanin’.”
He walks to the house while the girls drive their four-wheelers into the shed, and I look around bewildered.
It’s a shock to find out hiding Bruce isn’t the strangest thing here.
I can’t help but wonder what else is going on.
Despite everything I’ve seen today, it seems there’s a whole lot more to unravel about Grady McKnight.
