Josie smiled at Dara. “Okay.” The wind kicked up, cutting through her flannel shirt and the thermal underneath. “When did it get cold?”
“Clouds rolled in.” Hunter looked up at the sky. “Four years without snow or ice and now we’re getting both.”
“Guess it followed me from Seattle.” She glanced at the sky. “If you’re sure you don’t need me...”
“Leaving?” he asked, standing beside her.
“No.” It took a lot not to hold his hand. “I thought I’d stay awhile and draw. If that’s okay?”
“Anytime, Jo. Make yourself at home.”
Chapter Ten
No matter what Hunter was doing, he was aware of her. She’d staked out her perfect location on a large willow rocking chair on the corner of his porch, tucked her legs beneath her and opened her sketch pad across her lap. Her presence, her grace, the fluid movement of her pencil back and forth across her sketch pad, fascinated him. Some of her hair had slipped free from her braid and lifted, dancing in the wind, but she didn’t bother tucking it into place. She was lost in the world she was creating.
By the time the sun was on the horizon, he was dragging. The float was always an exercise in patience, for the kids and their parents. But in the end nothing smoothed feathers and filled everyone with pride like seeing their work come together. Now that the build was behind them, the mood grew more celebratory.
“I called Gabriel, and he’s getting the grill ready,” Carol Garcia, one of the moms, said. “Anyone hungry?”
Hunter smiled at the explosion of whistles and yells from the kids. A quick glance at Jo showed she was completely unaware of anything going on around her. He accepted handshakes, offered a few claps on the back, helped locate stray phones or coats, then rounded up any remaining supplies before everyone loaded into their cars and trucks. But Jo kept working.
“Dad?” Eli pulled his coat on, looking more animated than he’d been all day. A glance over his son’s shoulder showed Dara climbing into the Garcias’ family car. “Greg Hayes wants me to sleep
over after the cookout,” Eli all but begged.
Hunter looked at his son. He’d been a real handful all day, sullen one minute, smiling and funny the next. He didn’t know what to do with him, but he knew keeping Eli home would result in another bout of pouting and he didn’t have the energy or the patience for that right now. “Fine. But listen to his folks, remember your manners and don’t be too late tomorrow.”
Eli nodded, a strange look settling on his face. His son’s gaze bounced back and forth between him and Jo. “Okay.” His son swallowed before asking, “You gonna come to the cookout for dinner?”
Hunter shook his head. “But you have fun.”
Eli’s mouth tightened. “See you tomorrow.” He shot Jo another look—a look that almost made Hunter call his son back to his side for a talking-to. But he was beginning to wonder if talking to Eli was the answer. This might be a situation Eli should work through on his own.
Hunter nodded at Greg’s dad as Eli climbed into the truck. With a nod back, Mr. Hayes and the boys left.
He walked around the trailer, checking wires and cords, testing the rope tie-downs and tucking extra blankets in. He stood at the edge of the porch and coughed several times, loudly. Jo stretched, arching her back and bending her arms as far back as she could. He watched her come back to reality, slowly, confusion registering as she took in the deserted lawn. “Everyone gone?” she asked. She shivered, turning her big silver-gray gaze toward him.
He nodded. “Didn’t want to interrupt you.”
“I totally zoned out.” She tucked her pens into the small zipper case at her feet. She stood, nodding at the trailer. “That looks amazing.”
“You sound like you’re surprised.” He took the steps two at a time, coming to stand by her on the wooden porch. He turned, surveying the trailer.
“No, not really.” She nudged him in the side.
He nudged back. “You were gone today.”
She glanced up at him, a slight furrow on her brow. “What do you mean?”
“When you work.” He let his gaze wander over her face; the tip of her nose was red. “The world around you fades away.” He knew how it was. The world seemed to fade away whenever they were alone, as they were now.
“Sometimes.” Her words were husky, her gaze getting tangled up in his. “Hunter, what are we doing?”
Starting over. But all he said was, “Decorating a float.” He knew exactly what she was asking, but he didn’t know what she wanted to hear. His fingers tucked a curl behind her ear. “Getting ready for Christmas.”
Her voice was unsteady. “Is that all?”
“Is it?”