“Everett?” It was Dane.
Dammit.Everett turned, stunned to see Dane’s truck parked along the fence. “When did you get here?”
“Long enough to see you attacking that tree.” Dane nodded at the scarred trunk. “Everything all right?”
He nodded.No. Not a damn thing.
“What the hell happened?” Dane hopped over the fence and made his way to the tree.
“Gramma Dot.” He pointed at the tree. “Maybe she’s spending so much time with the goats, she thought she was one of them?” His attempt to laugh failed.
Dane gave the tree a once-over, then turned to him. His gaze was long and assessing.
Everett didn’t say a word. Dane could give him looks, ask him questions, or tease him mercilessly, but he wasn’t going to respond. If he did, he didn’t know what he’d wind up unloading onto his friend. And that wasn’t right.
“Did the meeting already wrap up?” Everett asked, tugging his undershirt free from the waist of his pants and wiping off his face.
“Hell no. Are you kidding? Lunch break.” Dane sighed. “You weren’t answering your phone, so I figured we’d head out and make sure everything was okay.”
“We?” He glanced at Dane’s empty truck.
“Tansy is inside. We brought burgers.” Dane eyed the tree limbs on the ground. “Need help with those?”
He’d been hoping that chopping the branches into logs for the woodstove would wear out the rest of his irritation. That would have to wait—for now. “I can manage. I’m just gonna drag them behind the barn.”
Dane gave him another questioning look, but Everett avoided making eye contact this time. “Okay.”
“Thanks, though.” He nodded and picked up the saw. “I’ll be in soon.”
“Yep.” Dane headed for the house.
It didn’t take long for Everett to put the wood behind the barn and the saw away. If he lingered too long, he’d have to come up with an excuse. He was too tired for that. Hell, he was too tired to deal with people. But there was no getting out of it. First, he’d sit through lunch and do his damnedest not to be aware of every little adorable thing about Rosebud, then he’d have to put on his poker face and return to the city watch training to get questioned and berated by the good people of Lewis County. He’d rather take down the whole damn tree than do either.
He took a deep breath and stared up at the blue sky overhead.
Rosebud was right about something else. He did miss Granddad. If Everett needed an ear, Granddad listened. If Everett needed advice, Granddad had it. He missed the man’s unfailing can-do attitude, his ability to put a positive spin on even the most dire of situations, and his contagious full-body laugh. If Granddad was here right now, what would he tell Everett? Hell, he’d be happy just to hear his laugh.
He trudged back across the yard to the house, physically drained. Unfortunately, he couldn’t say the same for his emotions. Not that it mattered. He had people counting on him. Period. That was all he could focus on. He opened the back door and stepped inside, all eyes on him.
Jenny. Tansy. Dane. Gramma Dot. And Rosebud—no, Rosebud was the only one not looking at him.
“Everett Michael Taggert.” Gramma Dot stared at him in shock. “Land sakes, what happened to you? You look like you lost a battle, boy.”
Everett chuckled. “The tree did put up a fight.”
“Well you’d best go wash up before you sit down at your mother’s table.” Gramma Dot clicked her tongue.
“Yes, ma’am.” He walked toward her, his arms wide. “You don’t want a big hug first?”
That got the entire kitchen laughing. Good. Laughter would do him some good.
“Everett,” Gramma Dot squeaked, edging away from him. “You behave.”
“That’s no fun.” But he dropped his arms. “Don’t eat all my fries.” He hurried from the kitchen and down the hall into his old room. He’d been out of the house for years, but he still kept clean clothes there—in case he spent a day helping out here on the farm.
Which he hadn’t done all that much of recently. One more thing to add to his to-do list.
He took a hot shower, willing the heat to ease the knots of tension from his muscles. One thing Granddad had told him over and over was to break a problem down into manageable pieces. Normally, he was good at that. Bit by bit, figuring things out until the whole was no longer problematic. He’d just let too many things get too big.
