To his surprise, Grandma Palmer hadn’t even been upset about his moving out. And then he’d seen the glance that passed between her and Mrs. Thalberg. Those two widows were going to find something to meddle in.
Brooke’s light went out, and the ranch house settled into darkness. And then he saw the other light he’d missed, the one in the barn. It was almost midnight—was a horse ill?
Shrugging into his coat and hat, he walked through the yard, his boots crunching on the frozen ground. He went into the dark barn with the horses crowded into each stall, but no one was working. Most of the small herd roamed on the horse pasture and never came inside. He heard several dogs whine a greeting, but none barked, now that they knew him. Ranger came bounding toward him, tongue hanging out of a dog-smiling mouth, and Adam rubbed between his ears. A door at the far end was open—one that was usually closed. He realized he’d never gone in there.
“Hello?” he called before approaching the doorway.
“Adam?”
It was Josh’s voice, so he went inside and was surprised to find him at a workbench, a mallet and some kind of tiny chisel in his hand. He was bent over a shaped piece of dyed leather. Adam’s gaze swept the rest of the room, obviously a workshop, with floor-to-ceiling shelves along the other walls.
“Can’t sleep?” Josh asked, looking up with his usual smile.
“I saw your light. I had no idea you did this in your spare time. I’m not even sure what it is.”
“Leather tooling.”
Josh gestured over his shoulder at another bench where projects were laid out in various stages of completion. There were belts, wallets—and a lot of purses. All had been intricately carved and colored in various patterns: simple geometric shapes, swirling vines and flowers, soaring eagles.
“You’re good,” Adam said, returning to the main workbench.
“Thanks. I’ve got orders to fill, so I’m usually in here most evenings. My work’s on display at Monica’s shop.”
“The ‘and Gifts’ in Monica’s Flowers and Gifts?”
Josh chuckled. “Right. Local artists and craftspeople sell there on consignment. Seems my purses are very popular with the ladies.” He wiggled his eyebrows, then bent back over the leather.
Adam laughed. “Mind if I watch for a bit?”
“Pull up a stool.”
Adam did so, studying how Josh used different tools to bring out a three-dimensional image of a daisy in the leather.
He worked in silence for a while, then spoke without lifting his head. “Sorry if my sister can be a pain.”
Adam tensed but spoke impassively. “What do you mean?”
“Give her some time. Her bossy ways will calm down. You’re her subordinate, so I imagine you bear the brunt of it.” Josh looked up at him. “She seems to be going through something. She’ll work it out—she always does.”
“I’ll remember that, but honestly, I haven’t seen any problems.”
“Then you must be used to strong women. Oh, wait, your grandma is one of the widows, too. That explains it.”
Adam smiled. The widows were a much better topic of discussion with Brooke’s brother. “I hope lining themselves up with Leather and Lace doesn’t cause them problems.”
“I’ve been hearing rumblings about that store in a few places. Nate says the guys who drink coffee at Hal’s Hardware aren’t too pleased. Seems Sylvester is lining people up to speak at the next town-council meeting.”
“Do you think our grandmas will be cowed by a bunch of men?”
They shared a grin.
The next day after school, Brooke met Stephanie Sweet at the barn. The teenager had driven over, pulling her horse trailer, then led out her horse, already saddled.
Brooke went into the barn to saddle her own horse, and found Adam and Josh shoveling out stalls. Steph stepped inside, probably to do some ogling, so Brooke introduced her to Adam.
When Steph left the barn ahead of her, Adam said quietly, “So this is Emily’s sister? The one who’s causing all the wedding problems? Hard to believe.”
Brooke smiled. “I know. She’s a nice girl—most of the time.”
“You going to interrogate her?”
“Of course not. My mom trusts me to handle her, so you should, too. Now get back to work,” she added with mock sternness.
Josh leaned on his shovel and eyed them. “Damn, but you’re a taskmaster.”
She grinned and waved at her little brother, turning on her heel and sauntering outside.
She and Steph mounted and rode toward the corral, where she’d set up the barrels in their cloverleaf pattern. Steph had sworn last time that she was going to clock a faster time galloping around the barrels than Brooke in her record-setting days, and Brooke had to grudgingly admit that day might come soon.