On one hand, Katelyn couldn’t believe she’d been at River’s Sigh with the kids for a week already. On the other hand, they’d settled into the little cabin so quickly and completely, she couldn’t believe they hadn’t been there for months. Smiling at the thought, and grateful that the deluge of spring rain had let up for a bit, she removed the final heavy plastic tote from the backseat of the new-to-her Honda, a steal of a deal that she still couldn’t quite believe she’d been lucky enough to get, and settled it on the ground beside the others.
She wasn’t winded when she finished hefting the seven containers into the big dining hall, but she could feel the workout she’d given her biceps.
When she pulled the lid off the first container, the sound grabbed Lacey and Sawyer’s attention. They sprang up from the tower of blocks they’d been building and ran over.
“Can we see too?”
“Absolutely, but no touching unless you go and wash your hands.”
Jo and a young platinum blonde carrying a toddler on her hip came through the big swinging door from the kitchen just as Katelyn was unrolling the first bolt of vibrant cotton.
“This is going to be like Christmas,” Jo exclaimed, taking in the print’s mermaids, anchors, sailing ships and other antique marine things.
Katelyn grinned. That’s how she always felt when she hauled out her fabric collection too.
“It reminds me of vintage tattoo art. I love it.” The blonde leaned in to look more closely, and Katelyn was struck by how much she resembled Jo. She even had the same wild curls, though Jo’s were much darker—a coppery honey to the girl’s white gold.
The toddler seemed equally enthused and reached toward a ship.
“No touching, sweetie. Just looking,” the young mom said and stepped back from the table.
“It is pretty cool, hey?” Katelyn agreed and stuck out her hand. “I’m Katelyn, by the way.”
The toddler grabbed her hand before anyone else could, making all three adult women laugh.
“I’m Jo’s niece, Aisha,” the blonde said, “And my quick with the greeting daughter is Mo.”
Mo was still holding Katelyn’s hand and shaking it energetically. “Hi, Mo. Nice to meet you.” This seemed to satisfy Mo’s apparent need for acknowledgement and she dropped Katelyn’s hand and squirmed in Aisha’s arms to be let down. Aisha obliged and Mo wobble-sprinted toward the block tower, which captured both Lacey and Sawyer’s attention. They galloped after her.
There was a loud crash and a chortle of manic toddler glee.
Oh no, please don’t freak out, Katelyn begged her kids in her head. It could go either way.
Aisha was at the trio’s side in a heartbeat. “I’m so sorry,” she was saying. “It’s Mo’s favorite game. She doesn’t play with a lot of other kids yet.”
Lacey shrugged. “It’s okay. Sawyer always used to do that too.”
Sawyer was equally philosophical. “Yes, because I was also a baby before.”
Mo looked around, as if trying to find the baby of which he spoke.
“We can build another tower for her to knock down, if you want,” Lacey offered.
“Mo would love that. She adores big kids,” Aisha said. “Thank you.”
Lacey and Sawyer smiled with pride, then Lacey took charge and proceeded to issue commands regarding how the tower was to be rebuilt.
“Lacey reminds me of me,” Aisha said, rejoining Katelyn and Jo.
Katelyn withdrew a second bolt of cotton: ivory like the first, but this time adorned only with swirling navy waves and sea foam.
“Okay, this one is awesome too,” Aisha enthused.
“I knew the second she asked if she could use the dining hall, and said what for, that you wouldn’t want to miss it,” Jo said.
Aisha agreed heartily. “And not that I’m stalking you, but your suitcase collection is fantastic.”
Katelyn cocked her head, and Jo was quick to explain. “Aisha does all the housekeeping for our cabins. She tidied up the morning after you arrived—before we knew you were extending your stay and would take care of your own cleaning.”
Katelyn grinned. “That was you? Well, thanks. I thought it was a cleaning fairy or something.”
“And Jo says you’re a seamstress, that you make most of your own clothes?”
Before Katelyn could answer, Aisha continued in a rush. “Sorry, sorry, I’m probably being overwhelming. Also, Jo doesn’t talk about you incessantly or anything, I promise. It’s just that I want to run my own shop, an upcycling place, someday. I’m insanely curious whenever I meet people who do bespoke work or a lot of crafting or refurbishing or refinishing or whatever.”
Jo shook her head at Aisha, but her fondness for her niece was obvious. Katelyn burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. “Wow, you actually remind me of Lacey, too.”
A crash of blocks and three thrilled screams punctuated Katelyn’s comment.
“Do you want to help me lay everything out?” Katelyn asked.
Jo and Aisha both squealed, so Katelyn assumed they shared her idea of fun. “I sure appreciate you letting me use the dining room table, Jo.”
“No problem. Do you have everything out of your storage unit now?”
Yet again, Katelyn didn’t get a chance to answer. The main door bumped open and Brian entered, a large box in his arms.
“Oh, hey, if it isn’t my scrumptious sister-in-law,” he said cheerily, then nodded at Aisha and Katelyn. “And her equally scrumptious cohorts.”
Even knowing he was just joking around, Katelyn was tongue-tied.
“I’m more like a minion,” Aisha replied.
“Hello, silliest brother-in-law,” Jo said. “What do you have there?”
Brian raised an eyebrow and purred in an exaggeratedly seductive voice. “Sexiest brother-in-law, hey? Jo, Jo, Jo, I honestly never knew you felt that way.”
“Idiot,” she said, smiling.
Brian grinned. “Now there’s a description I’m more familiar with.” He hooked a chair leg with his foot, pulled it away from the table, and lowered the box onto it.
“Books and DVDs” he said, suddenly serious. “About the only thing that’s looking up. I happened across a Buy and Sell post meant for me. Some guy’s moving overseas and we have similar tastes, apparently. This,” he motioned at the box, “doesn’t remotely replace what I’ve lost, but at least I have some of my favorites back.”
Jo couldn’t be much more than a couple years older than Brian, but she reached up and ruffled his hair like he was Lacey’s age. “Well, that’s something, right?”
“Yeah.” Brian looked around, then plunked down in a seat beside his books. “What’s all this? Have you finally found the solution to your bedding dilemma?”
Jo slapped a hand over her mouth and stared at Katelyn. “Oh. My. Goodness. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself. I’ve been boring Callum and Brian with my complaining all week!”
Katelyn lifted a questioning eyebrow.
“Oh, totally. Of course,” Aisha agreed.
Katelyn’s brow arched higher.
“Will you sew the bedding and curtains I need for our newest cabins? Callum and Brian’s oldest brother, Cade, renovated them last summer, but I’m just doing the final touches now. Coho has three bedrooms, one with a queen-sized bed, one with a double and one with three sets of bunk beds. Sockeye’s smaller, just one bedroom with a king.”
“I, well—”
Brian commenced sorting through his new finds, tuning out of the conversation.
Jo looked stricken. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be pushy. You don’t have to, of course. It’s just I can tell I’ll adore anything you come up with. I want each cabin to be unique, not feel like a hotel, you know?”
Katelyn recalled the glimpses she’d had of various cabins so far: Tiny, picturesque Minnow with its equally tiny deck, housing a huge black rocking chair that called for you to sit and dream a while. Rainbow with its whimsical twisted-wood porch and tinkling wind chime made from copper wire, colored glass and antique silver spoons. Super posh Silver and roomy Chinook with its private park of a yard. And the one she called her own: fairy tale worthy Spring with its three small floors and spiral staircase. Each place almost defied the label “cabin”—at least to her.
“I totally know what you mean, Jo,” she said. “Each one’s a special little home.”
Jo beamed. “Thank you. That’s exactly what I aim for.”
“And you nail it,” Aisha affirmed.
Katelyn pressed her clenched fist to her mouth. What must it be like to get to be part of a family, a place, like this? To never have to leave? “I’d be honored to make coordinating bedding and linens for your new cabins, if you’re serious.”
“Hooray! I’ll pay you, of course, or we can take it off your rent so we’ll both save.”
“Won’t Sam have a cow about you decorating without her?” Aisha asked.
Jo laughed. “Normally, I’d say yes, but I think we’re safe. She’s a lot more mellow now that she’s married, with Charlie keeping her so happy in—”
“Gross,” Aisha interrupted. “Whatever you were about to add, just remember, he’s my dad. And it doesn’t matter that she’s my birth mom. It still feels like she’s the other woman.”
Jo laughed again. “A fact she no doubt loves. I was going to say keeping her so happy in warm tropical places and gallivanting off to writers’ conferences.”
Katelyn took in Jo and Aisha’s banter with amused curiosity. Sam was Aisha’s birth mom, but she’d just married Aisha’s dad? There was definitely a story there. She didn’t get a chance to ask about it though; Jo’s face was transformed by another “I just had an idea” expression.
“What?” she asked.
Jo looked startled. “I’m that easy to read?”
Katelyn nodded.
“I don’t want you to feel any pressure.”
“Don’t believe her. She wants you to feel at least some pressure,” Aisha said.
Jo shrugged and grinned.
“What?” Katelyn said again.
“Greenridge’s annual Spring Fling Business Fair is coming up. Its theme is A Blast From the Past.”
“Uh huh?” Katelyn asked at the same moment Aisha said, “Oh, I see where you’re going with this. I approve, I approve.”
“And I was wondering,” Jo continued, “if I paid for the fabric and for your time, if you’d mind making us all matching fifties dresses, like you, me, Aisha, Lacey and Mo. Just for fun. I mean, I’ll run the booth, but maybe the dresses could have our logo? Callum’s building a mini cabin for a display too.”
Katelyn didn’t reply. Instead she tore through the box in front of her at a quicker pace.
“So is that a . . . ” Jo’s voice petered out hopefully.
Katelyn looked up, but continued her frantic rummaging. “Oh, sorry—yes. A huge yes!” Her eyes lit on the subject of her search and she whooped in victory. “In fact, I have just the material.”
She pulled out four bundles, each featuring bright red cherries with little brown stems, but on different solid backgrounds: turquoise, black, sunshine yellow and a soft pink.
“Oh, those are perfect!” Jo said. “This is so exciting.”
Aisha chattered on too, and another wave of wistfulness washed over Katelyn. This must be sort of what it felt like to have sisters.
Across the room, Lacey yelled in a horrified tone, “Baby Mo fell asleep, just like that!”
They all looked over. Sure enough, Mo had zonked out, somehow managing to look comfortable and peaceful, despite the fact she was practically lying on top of a pile of wooden blocks.
“Oops, I guess it’s naptime,” Aisha said wryly, going to fetch Mo. “Can I pop by Spring for a visit?” she asked Katelyn on her way back across the room.
“Oh, please do!” Katelyn said, then felt a little embarrassed by her exuberance and added shyly, “I’d really enjoy that, and so would the kids.”
“Is there a specific time that works better than another, like does Lacey have school or anything?”
Katelyn stammered, “No, er, well, she would normally, but I thought we were going on an . . . extended holiday. She’s bright and we worked ahead. Her teacher said she’ll be fine to enroll in grade three next September.”
“Nice! I would’ve done anything to skip school when I was her age.”
Jo shook her head, but Katelyn could tell Aisha was just being nice, trying to normalize the unusual circumstances.
“Okay then. We’ll have coffee,” Aisha promised and inched toward the door, Mo slumped and snoring in her arms.
A phone rang loudly from the office, next door to the dining room. Jo nodded toward it. “Well, that’s my cue. Feel free to use this room as long as you want. We can chat about the sewing projects in detail another time.”
Katelyn thought she might burst with gratitude as Jo, Aisha and Mo left the room. How kind they were.
“Now we can build a tower and not knock it down,” Sawyer announced.
“You said it,” Lacey agreed.
Brian had been so quiet for the sewing conversation that Katelyn would’ve forgotten his presence altogether—except that every so often she caught the lightest whiff of some yummy cologne that made her temperature rise. Now he laughed out loud and turned to Katelyn. “You probably already know this, but your kids are hilarious.”
For some reason, his casual comment made Katelyn mist up. She swallowed hard and studied the DVDs closest to her to hide her emotion. How easily this virtual stranger observed and commented on her kids’ good qualities. Steve would’ve yelled for her to shut them up several times already. But she didn’t want to think about that right now.
She cleared her throat awkwardly and said the first thing that popped into her brain. “Miss Congeniality?”
Brian Archer, flirt and joker that he was, surprised her by blushing. Actually blushing. Then he picked up the stack of movies topped by the Sandra Bullock feature and fanned the titles. A whole assortment of romantic comedies met her eye.
“I don’t know why I like them so much. It’s a sickness.”
“A disease even. They’re so unrealistic and dumb—and completely predictable.”
Brian’s eyebrow lifted, a look Katelyn was already starting to consider quintessential Brian. “So you love them too?” he asked.
“Totally.”
They both laughed, then Brian’s face grew thoughtful, like he was pondering something.
“The scenery’s great out here in the boonies, but the nightlife sucks,” he finally said.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Totally. It’s terrible. Completely predictable.” He shook his head, but the crinkle by his eyes gave him away. He thought it was the furthest thing from terrible and he was mimicking her on purpose. “Anyway, I was planning to hole up with a movie or two tonight. I could come by after the kids are in bed and we could watch one together. If you want.”
“That would be very nice . . . thank you.” Katelyn nodded, and, to her utter humiliation, her face heated and she knew she was probably bright pink. She did want. But she stopped that thought right there before she got too carried away, dwelling on all the details her “want” might involve. Evenings felt long when you were a single parent. That was the only reason she was excited about the prospect of Brian coming over—because adult company would break the monotony. It had nothing to do with the way he filled a shirt, had laugh lines she wanted to trace with her fingers, or how he smelled like heaven. Nothing at all. Not a thing. She also tried to ignore how her mind flew to ideas about what to wear.