Chapter Four

      The next afternoon, Latham was back in the cottage, taking some notes of his own. He let the tape measure slide into place with a snap and turned to his notepad on the countertop to write down the measurements. Wynn’s idea of building a loft was actually pretty doable if he opened up the attic space.

      A few industrial touches, a coat of white paint, and this shabby old place would look completely different.

      The door behind him slowly swung open. Latham turned around to see a little boy around five or six years old, maybe, standing in the doorway, his thumb stuck in his mouth, a dirty bandage on his knee. Big brown eyes missed nothing as they perused the room.

      “Hey, buddy, whatcha doin’? Anybody know where you are?”

      The little dude still didn’t say anything. Latham looked out the door toward the farmhouse to see if anyone was coming. No one was in sight. “So, you want to see what I’m doing?”

      A nod. Communication established.

      “I’m measuring because I’m going to build something that needs to fit in here. You want to help?”

      Another solemn nod.

      “Okay, I have one more measurement I need.” Latham handed the end of the measuring tape to the little guy. “You take this over to that wall and we’ll see how wide the room is.”

      The boy didn’t respond, but he took the measuring tape to the wall and held it there. Latham made a quick measurement, which he would have to redo, but it did give him a basic idea. “Thanks, bud. You’re a good helper.”

      Joe Sheehan appeared in the door. “Here you are, Matthew! I’ve been looking for you. Claire wants you to come back to the kitchen and finish your breakfast.”

      The little boy started for the door, but turned back to wave shyly at Latham.

      Latham stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small flexible measuring tape, no sharp edges. “Hey buddy, you take this one and see what you can find to measure inside.”

      A grin spread across the thin face, and Matthew grabbed the tape measure out of Latham’s hand and sprinted for the house.

      “Cute kid.”

      “He is cute. Also a total escape artist. Can’t turn your back on him for a second.” Joe walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottled water, tossing one to Latham and opening one for himself.

      Latham took a long drink. “Thanks. You off work today?”

      “I’m home today, but I’m learning I’m never completely off work. I’ve already fielded about four phone calls.” Joe Sheehan was Wynn’s older brother and moved back to town after an injury in the line of duty. Joe became the police chief of their little town, shortly after he’d fallen for Claire Conley.

      The top cop looked around the small cabin. “I think I’d blocked out the neon green paint in the bathroom. It’s really awful, isn’t it? I hope Wynn’s planning to repaint.”

      Latham grinned and leaned back on the kitchen island. “White everywhere. I wonder if she knows how many coats of paint it’s going to take to cover that green.”

      “I could answer that, but I’m not going to. A year of marriage under my belt has taught me that keeping my mouth shut is often the wisest policy.” Joe laughed as he paced the length of the room, pausing to look out the window and take in the view of the farmhouse across the pond. He cleared his throat. “So, now that Wynn’s back in town and you’re helping her with the cottage, are you planning to ask her out?”

      Latham didn’t move, just kept his eyes trained on Joe’s face and tried not to smile. “I haven’t really thought that far ahead. Right now we have a business arrangement between friends. If things change, I could update you.”

      “Sure. She was dead set on leaving Red Hill Springs when she graduated high school. Now things are different. Maybe you should follow through on that crush you had on her in high school.” He looked around. “Wow, I forgot how quiet it is down here.”

      While Latham was processing the newfound knowledge that Joe had known about his infatuation with Wynn in high school, the door slammed open and a girl around seven years old came bursting through the door. “Joe! Claire said to come quick. Penny’s little brother got his head stuck in the banisters again!”

      Joe sighed and shot a look at Latham. “So much for quiet.”

      As Joe swung the little one onto his shoulders, he was rewarded with a pure, sweet giggle, and the look on his face was anything but annoyed. Yeah, Red Hill Springs’ police chief definitely had a soft side. Latham remembered when all the mamas in town warned their kids to stay away from Joe. He’d turned out pretty good despite all the dire warnings.

      They’d all changed since they roamed this small town as kids. Maybe those changes were for the better, maybe some not so much. He wondered again what brought Wynn back to Red Hill Springs. And if she was really going to stay.

      Latham shrugged into his coat and stuck the tape measure in his pocket. He followed Joe around the trail to where he’d parked his old truck in the driveway. As he drove home, his ideas for the cabin turned in his mind. He could almost imagine the space the way it would look after the reno. Wynn would be at her easel in the loft studio, maybe a pot of coffee on in the kitchen.

      It was sentimental, sure, but he always tried to think about the people he was building for. A house wasn’t a home until someone made it one. The tables he created in his barn workshop were only wood and nails until they became the centerpiece of a family kitchen.

      Latham turned into the drive on his property, his mind on a big fire and a cup of coffee. He’d stayed longer than he’d meant to at the cottage, and the shadows were long over the gravel road. He hoped Wynn wasn’t too bored. Maybe he was asking too much of her. Although, now that he’d seen how big the job she had in mind for him was, he wasn’t as worried about that.

      The dogs barreled around the corner of the house as they heard his door open. He gave them a quick scratch and hurried to the door, pushing it open to find Wynn at the kitchen table putting Scrabble tiles into their velvet bag.

      She looked up with a smile. “Well, hey. Your pop was just starting to get worried about you.”

      “Was not.” Pop’s voice came from around the corner.

      Latham shook his head. “He wasn’t too much trouble?”

      “No, he was not.” The grumpy voice came from the living room again.

      “Maybe he’s hungry?” Wynn suggested.

      Pop stuck his head back into the kitchen. “Yes, as a matter of fact, he is hungry.”

      Latham ignored his unruly grandpa. “So he was okay today?”

      “He was great. He beat me at Scrabble. Apparently, I need to brush up on my vocabulary.” Wynn walked into the kitchen, lifted the lid on the slow cooker and stirred something that smelled amazing before grabbing her purse and jacket from the counter. “I guess I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Bye,