Linc threw the last flake of the hay bale into the stall and turned to his brother. “I gotta go.”
Ethan frowned. “Go where?”
He scowled. “To buy a hundred or so yards of pine roping.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Ethan shook his head. “We’re supposed to make everything we can for the Christmas challenge. Seems to me there are plenty of pine trees around here.”
“Did you hear what I said? A hundred yards.” Linc enunciated each word clearly for his smart-ass brother. “I’m not making that. Unless you’d like to do all the chores alone for the next three or so days so I have the time to cut the boughs and string them together.”
“And why are you using that much roping anyway?”
“Uh, have you seen the size of the cabin?” Linc asked.
Sarcasm wasn’t his usual go to, but it seemed to fit this situation.
“The staircase handrail alone is gonna take ten yards. Then inside and outside the front door, another ten yards each. And then to wrap the two stone columns out front.” Linc spread his hands as the math added up. “A hundred yards. She wants the entryway to be a big deal so…”
“She.” Ethan nodded slowly. Annoyingly slowly. “So this was all Eva’s idea?”
Rather than admit Ethan was right, Linc deflected with, “Dad made us a team.”
“So she’s in charge of the design and you’re the lackey doing all the work,” Ethan, who apparently wanted to be punched in the gut, continued.
“Shut up,” Linc grumbled.
“Pussy-whipped already, I see.” Ethan grinned.
Linc’s eyes widened. “There’s no pussy.”
“Mm. Even worse. Whipped without benefit of pussy.” Ethan nodded knowingly.
“Fuck you.” Linc shook his head and headed for the door.
“Love you too, bro,” Ethan called after him.
Without having to turn around, Linc was sure his brother was grinning at his expense.
By the time he got home from the tree farm, his truck filled with greenery and his wallet empty of cash, he found Eva’s car.
He backed the truck up to the entrance so he could unload, cut the engine, grabbed his keys and climbed out of the cab.
Tossing the five twenty-yard bundles of roping out of the bed, along with some big balsam wreaths, he emptied the load pretty fast. But not so fast she shouldn’t have gotten out of her car already and wandered over. Not that he expected or needed her help to unload but she could at least come say hello. Offer to help. Say thanks. Something.
What he got was nothing.
Jumping down from the back of the truck, he slammed the tailgate shut with a bang and still no Eva.
Had she fallen asleep in the car? Anything was possible with that woman. At this point not much would surprise him.
He made his way to her vehicle and leaned low, peering through the driver’s side window.
She was in there all right, but she wasn’t asleep. Her seat was pushed way back away from the steering wheel to accommodate the laptop on which she typed furiously. He waved but she didn’t see.
He knocked on the glass and saw her react. She jumped, literally, as he startled her. After a brief look of sheer panic, her frown appeared and though the words were muffled by the glass between them, she lobbed a string of cusses at him for scaring her.
Once her rant was over she flipped the laptop closed and flung the door wide, missing hitting him with it only because he was quick on his feet and moved out of the way in time.
“What the hell?” She scowled at him.
“I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t know how else to get your attention. You didn’t seem to see me.” It had been as if she was in a trance. Mesmerized by what was on the screen. Hypnotized.
“Next time, text me.”
“Text you?” While he was standing barely a foot away from her?
“Yes.” She shot him a glare, slammed her door and stomped toward the cabin.
“Okay,” he said, following her.
Today was looking to be a shit show with her in this mood. As he walked he glanced up at the late afternoon sky. It too wasn’t looking promising. Black clouds rolled in on the horizon.
“Why are we staring at the sky instead of unlocking the door?” Eva asked.
He glanced at Eva and found that she had reached the front door, tried the knob, found it locked and was currently glaring at him.
“Snow’s coming,” he said simply, finding the key to the door among the others on his keyring.
Next to him, Eva shook her head. “No. I checked the weather website. It didn’t say snow.”
He lifted a shoulder. “The website might not have but those clouds do.”
“Whatever.” She shook her head.
He drew in a breath. This was Eva’s MO. She was argumentative… until she wasn’t. Then she shut down the conversation, no doubt still believing she was right.
Whatever, indeed. He’d let her think that, until Mother Nature proved who was actually correct. And that would be him, because he was rarely wrong when it came to weather.
He was a rancher, for God’s sake. Extremes in the weather could mean life or death for the animals he cared for.
Couldn’t expect city folk to understand that. But he should at least be able to expect her to believe him when he told her something.
As he opened the door she eyed the pile of greens. “That’s not going to be enough.”
His eyes flew wide. “It’s a hundred yards.” As she shook her head, he said, “That’s three hundred feet.”
That earned him a glare. “I know how many feet it is.” Shaking her head again, she brushed past him in the doorway saying, “We’ll see.”
“Yes, we will,” he returned. About the greenery. About the snow. About everything.
Ugh. She had to be the most frustrating woman alive.
“How’s your WiFi?” she asked as she planted herself in a chair.
“Fine. Why?”
“I have to work.”
“If you had to work, why did you come over? I can handle this alone.”
“I have to be here to make sure you don’t screw up the decorations.”
He scowled. “Thanks.”
Apparently sarcasm was becoming his go-to. At least as far as Eva was concerned. Unfortunately, it seemed she was immune to it.
Eva didn’t flinch at his comment. But she did ask, “What’s your WiFi password?”
She was really going to sit there on her computer while he did all the work. Fine. Better, actually. Maybe she’d be so transfixed by the screen she wouldn’t try to micromanage him.
“Wilder with a capital W,” he told her.
“Oh, that’s secure. No one will ever crack that.” She rolled her eyes and typed it in.
“Whatever,” he said, borrowing her favorite escape from conversations she didn’t want to have. “I’m going outside to get the ladder.”
When she didn’t respond, he glanced back and found her already deep into her work.
No doubt a bomb could go off and it wouldn’t disturb her when she was in this state. His squad could have used someone like her in the Tactical Operations Center. It might have saved lives…
And just when he thought she wasn’t even aware he was still there, she said, “The ornaments are in the back seat of my car. Door’s open.”
“You got them already?” he asked, but she was gone again. Lost in the internet.
He sighed. This was going to be an interesting partnership. He’d have to remember to thank his father… and there was that sarcasm again.