“Good, because I’ve got to finish up here and get to the hens before breakfast. You and Cassie,” he said, grinning again. “Who’d have thought it?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.” Devin helped Shane secure the fresh milk in the stainless-steel tanks. “I’ve been in love with her a long time.”
Shane straightened, winced. “Man, don’t start that. Every time I turn around, somebody’s falling in love. It’s giving me nightmares.”
“Well, get used to it. I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
Shane rubbed his hands over his face, pulled off his cap, dragged hands through his hair. “What is it? Something in the water around here? First Rafe, then Jared. Now you. I turn my back for a minute and everybody’s getting married, having babies. Get a hold of yourself, Dev.”
“Afraid it’s going to rub off?”
“Hell, I’m going to start to take shots. Look, Cassie’s as sweet as they come, and as pretty as fresh milk, but let’s not go crazy.”
“I love her,” Devin said, so simply Shane groaned. “It seems I always have. There’s nothing I could do about it even if I wanted to.”
“You know what kind of trouble this is going to cause me? Don’t you have any consideration?” Shane demanded. “I’ll be the only one of us left. Women home in on things like that. I won’t be able to get myself a snuggle without the woman thinking it’s going to lead to orange blossoms.”
“You’ll have to tough it out.”
“What in sweet hell’s so appealing about marriage?” Grumbling, Shane headed out of the milking parlor. “I mean, think about it, Dev. Really think. You’ve got one woman for the rest of your life. Just one. And there’re so many out there. Tall ones, short ones, round ones.”
Amused, Devin slapped a hand on Shane’s shoulder as they walked toward the chicken coop. “And with me out of the way, there’ll be more for you.”
“There is that.” Taking it philosophically, Shane shrugged. “I guess it’ll be up to me to maintain the MacKade legend. I’ll just have to make the sacrifice.”
“You’re up to it, bro.”
Cassie never lingered in the library. She was much too conscientious to skim over her cleaning there, but most often she tried to arrange her schedule so that someone was in the house when she dealt with that room.
There was no one in the house now. Her children were in school and the guests were busy with their sightseeing for the afternoon. She made excuses in her head for why she should see to a dozen other things besides that one room. But she knew the library had been used the day before. She knew there were books that needed to be put back on the shelves, plants that needed watering, windows that needed washing.
She told herself it was foolish. She knew the emotions and moods of the house better than she knew her own. There was nothing here that could hurt her. In fact, the house had changed her life, and all for the better.
Armed with her cleaning basket, she went in. If she left the door open wide behind her, it was only because she wanted to be able to hear if one of the guests returned and wanted anything.
It wasn’t because she was afraid.
She set the basket aside and tidied the books first. She knew guests often liked to borrow one to read on a rainy afternoon or to help them drift off to sleep at night. Rafe and Regan had provided a variety of books for a variety of
tastes. She, too, was free to borrow any she liked, whenever she liked. But she rarely did.
Nor, she thought suddenly, did Connor, though he was a voracious reader. It occurred to her that he, too, avoided this room, even though he was thoroughly at home in the rest of the inn.
It was a feeling, she supposed. Something that lingered in the air. Shaking it off, she carried her basket over to the twin philodendrons that trailed their leaves from pots set in stands by the tall window that overlooked the side garden.
They needed to be dusted. She’d been putting it off.
As she began, she felt the chill, down to the bone.
And knew she wasn’t really alone.
She thought she could see him, out of the corner of her eye. The big body going to fat, the wide face set in hard, dissatisfied lines.
Joe.
The terror came so quickly, she dropped the basket at her feet as she whirled around.
He wasn’t there. Of course he wasn’t. No one was. But it was so bitterly cold. With numb fingers, she reached for the window to open it to the warm breeze.