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She unlocked the front door and let Jeremy go in first. “It’s all wood in here, too!” He seemed excited by the idea. The second thing he seemed to notice was the ladder leading up to the sleeping loft that overlooked the great room. To the right was a large stone fireplace, flanked by bookcases and a log rack that were empty at the moment. At the other end of the main space was a simple, but well-equipped L-shaped kitchen, with a small table and four chairs against the wall next to the short end of the L.
Jeremy had waited as long as he could, she suspected, before running over to the ladder. “What’s up there?”
“Why don’t you go up and see?” It was a stepladder-type structure with solid railings, so he should be fine, but she realized belatedly she probably should have checked with Jackson first. But it turned out it didn’t matter, because Jeremy did just that.
“Dad?”
“Go ahead,” his father said. “Just take it slow.”
Her idea of slow and the boy’s idea were a bit different, but he made it safely and, apparently, easily. He was out of sight the moment he hit the top, but his shout was clear. “Hey! There’s a bed up here! And drawers, and a little table by a window where I can see the barn where Pie lives!”
When she glanced at Jackson again, he was shaking his head slowly, wonderingly. “I haven’t heard this much energy from him... ever.”
“Let me show you the rest,” she said.
She led him down the hallway from the great room. The bathroom was on the left, and she pushed the door open. “There’s only the one, but it’s a nice size. Clark had that whirlpool tub put in. Said it was a luxury after a long, hard day.”
There was also a sizeable shower, plenty of counter space, and a separate small room for the toilet.
“Nice,” he said.
She tried to tell herself she was just showing the space, and the fact that the bedroom was next meant nothing in particular. She opened the door and stepped back to let him take a look. He stopped about five feet into the room and made a slow turn, checking it out.
She was glad to know everything was still tidied up after her visit last weekend. The room was big enough to hold the king-sized bed easily, and the dresser with its mirror was a suitable size, and all that was needed besides the big walk-in closet. And on the back wall was a desk that faced a large window with the downstairs version of the view Jeremy had crowed about up in the loft.
“Also nice,” he murmured.
“Not too rustic feeling?”
“Wonderfully uncitified,” he answered.
She loved the way he’d put it. And knew in that moment what his answer would be to the question she hadn’t yet asked. She tried not to think about how this would complicate her life and focus only on how happy Jeremy seemed.
On the thought, the boy appeared, apparently wanting to see where they’d gone. “This is nice too,” he pronounced.
Jackson turned around and crouched down to the boy’s level. “You like it?”
“Yeah. That loft is cool. I’d like to sleep there.”
He straightened up and faced her. “Is that what we’re talking about here?”
“You need a place. It’s empty,” she said.
“Can I afford it?”
She blinked. Surely, money wasn’t an issue, was it? She didn’t know how much he got paid, but she was sure that by now, with the show a huge hit, it was a lot. He had to be a millionaire ten times over by now, at least.
“That you’d have to work out with my dad,” she said, rather carefully.
“We’re going to stay here? Live here, on the ranch?”
Jeremy sounded so excited Nic jettisoned all her doubts and worries. Crazy how she’d become so attached, so fast, but she would do a lot more than put up with a tenant in this house she loved for the joyous sound of that wounded boy’s voice.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jackson leaned backin the chair and swung his feet up on the porch railing, thinking it felt both longer than ten days and shorter since they’d moved into this place. Tris had come along that weekend they’d moved what they had brought, and he had spent some time making calls to have some of their things shipped out from L.A. She put her stamp of approval on the place, although making clear they would have been welcome to stay with her however long they’d needed.
He’d told Jeremy to make him a list of what he wanted from home besides clothes, and when the boy had handed it to him it was short, and in a strange way, sweet. His photo of the three of them from the dresser, his roadrunner blanket, his five favorite books, his box of mementos—mostly reminders of his mother—and his Lego building kit. Jackson had more than once thought the boy was destined to be an architect because of the amazing things he put together with that box of plastic pieces. And he couldn’t help thinking better that than a smartphone the boy had so far, thankfully, shown no interest in.
