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Fucking great. Just what I need, another matchmaker.

God forbid my mother or sisters ever find out about Dana.

They wouldn’t give me a moment’s peace.

Dana

* * *

I have blisters on my hands, a splinter the size of a toothpick embedded in the pad of my thumb, aching muscles I didn’t know I possessed, and I’m so tired, I probably couldn’t string two coherent words together.

But…I managed to fix the railing and replace the few rotting boards on my porch, I replaced the outside trim around the front windows and door, and I succeeded in digging out and hauling off two tree stumps from what I’m hoping will be a pretty flower bed come spring.

All of that today.

I had hoped to get some of the bigger logs I found in a pile behind the old barn and chop them into proper firewood I could use for the old woodstove in the living room for temporary heat, but it’ll have to wait until tomorrow.

The light is rapidly fading—sundown can go fast in the mountains—and my hands are already raw. It’s time to call it a day. I’m sure my body will be throbbing by the time I hit my bed, but man, do I feel accomplished.

“Hey, Pops.”

My phone rang just as I rolled into town.

“Baby Girl. Haven’t heard from you all day.”

I’m sure he doesn’t mean to make me feel guilty, but it’s hard not to.

Things have been a little tense between us since I took Rick’s advice and sat down with Pops to discuss my role at the pub. He’d been pretty disappointed at first when I told him I wouldn’t mind helping out in a pinch on occasion, but I wouldn’t be available to take up a permanent place on the schedule. I think he’d secretly hoped I would simply step into Mom’s shoes and dreams, but ultimately had to agree it wasn’t what Mom had in mind when she bought me the old farmhouse.

“Time got away from me. I was so excited to be able to get some outside work done on the house, I never even bothered to stop for lunch.”

“You need to eat, Dana,” he scolds me.

“I know. I’ll do better. I picked up a load of groceries and filled the fridge at the house today, so once I have my stuff moved over this weekend, I won’t have any excuses.”

For a moment it goes absolutely silent on the other side, and I wonder if I lost the call, but then Pops is back.

“Move?”

Oops. Yeah, I guess I didn’t have a chance to mention that to him yet.

“That’s the plan. Nate is lending me his muscle and his truck, and…uh, yeah. Tomorrow.”

I stop myself from mentioning Rick. Mostly because…I don’t know…I don’t want to give anyone any ideas. Or maybe it’s that I don’t want to get my hopes up. I’d sent him a message with my address and the time after Nate called me back this afternoon, but I never heard back from him.

“Tomorrow,” Pops echoes.

He doesn’t sound too happy, and I probably should have eased him into it, but I’m forty-one-years-old and more than able to make my own decisions.

My, “Yep,” comes out a bit sharper than intended.

“Why the rush?”

I guess it’s a fair question.

“Because it makes more sense. I’m back on at the hospital on Monday, so the only time I would have to work on the house is after work and on days off. I’d rather not waste that time driving back and forth to my apartment if I don’t have to.”

“Is it even in any condition for you to move in?”