She blew out a breath. “So, just like that, it’s done?”
A smile nipped at the corner of Nick’s mouth. “Did you expect anything less?”
She shook her head, looking away to hide the warmth creeping up her neck. She should have expected it. That’s who Nick was—steady, capable, a man who followed through. But it was the way he did things, the ease with which he always seemed to take care of her, that rattled her more than she liked to admit.
“So,” he continued, stepping closer, his voice taking on that low, amused tone that always unsettled her. “What are the odds you’ve got something valuable up there in that attic?”
Charlie Grace smirked, crossing her arms. “Slim to none. But you know these shows—they can turn an old, rusted horseshoe into the discovery of the century with the right camera angle.”
Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, either way, you’re getting paid. And if they do find some lost fortune, I assume you’ll be buying me dinner?”
She arched a brow. “That depends. Are you asking me on a date, Thatcher?”
He leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping. “I thought I already had.”
Her breath caught for half a second, but she covered it with a smirk. “Guess we’ll see if you earn it.”
Nick just grinned, stepping back as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
Charlie Grace turned toward the barn door, shaking her head, but her pulse was still kicking up in a way that had nothing to do with treasure hunting.
16
Reva wasn’t exactly sure how she’d been roped into this.
Perhaps it was Capri’s comment about her stress levels at the hospital or Lila casually mentioning how great yoga was for mobility as you age. “It helps maintain flexibility, balance, and strength, which are key to preventing falls and keeping joints healthy,” Lila informed them.
And now here she was—standing barefoot on a thin mat in the Thunder Mountain community hall, surrounded by women who looked far too eager to twist themselves into human pretzels.
“Alright, ladies!” Lizzy Barton chirped from the front of the room, her ponytail bouncing as she adjusted her mic headset. Dressed in neon pink leggings and a matching sports bra, she radiated energy Reva could only describe as aggressively peppy.
“This is a gentle yoga class,” Lila had promised.
Lila was a liar.
Beside Reva, Dorothy Vaughn huffed, tugging at the hem of her oversized T-shirt. “I don’t see why we couldn’t have done this in chairs. Chair yoga is very popular, you know.”
Betty Dunning adjusted her headband, squinting at Lizzy. “I’m just saying, if I go down, someone better be ready to haul me up. Last time I got stuck in a position, it took my Harold and a snow shovel to get me out.”
Lizzy clapped her hands. “Okay, ladies, let’s start with Sun Salutations! Stand tall, reach for the sky, and breathe in all the positive energy!”
Reva lifted her arms halfheartedly while Oma Griffith, standing to her left, grumbled, “I’d rather breathe in a cinnamon roll.”
Lila, naturally flexible, followed every move with ease. Reva, on the other hand, was already reconsidering every decision that had led her here.
“Now,” Lizzy continued, stepping between them. “Let’s flow into Downward Dog.”
Reva bent forward, placing her hands on the mat, only to realize she had zero core strength. Even after chasing a toddler for months. From the sounds of struggle around her, she wasn’t alone.
Dorothy wheezed, “If I go down any further, someone call my chiropractor.”
Betty let out a loud oof as she attempted to shift into the pose. “This is how I looked trying to get out of my clawfoot tub last week.”
Oma, in the middle of her own battle with gravity, suddenly sighed. “Well, ladies, since we’re all practically folded in half, might as well tell you—my Jason’s getting married.”
That got everyone’s attention.
Lila peeked over her shoulder. “Jason? I didn’t even know he was dating.”
