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She bit back a smile. “I might have turned you into a spectacle.”

Zeke froze mid-grasp of the door handle. “Care to elaborate?”

Biting her lip, Agatha’s eyes cut to meet his. “I might have said a few things to the ladies at that clothing store today.”

His eyes narrowed, and she flushed.

“In my defense, they were clearly gossiping about you and me already. I just said a few things that would keep them busy for a little while.” She let out a nervous laugh, waiting for him to get angry or tell her she had overstepped.

Instead, he let out a sigh. “Courtney and her daughter Chloe are terrible gossips. Whatever you said, they probably deserved it.” He pushed open the door and climbed out, leaving her to revel in his approval, if she could call it that. Zeke had more in common with her than she thought.

7

Zeke

Zeke paused outside of the truck and took a deep breath before releasing it. If only doing so would quell the nerves that had gone rogue. This woman was proving to be more problematic than he’d anticipated.

It wasn’t just his instinct to take care of her due to her current predicament. There was something else brewing whenever he was around her. He went from viewing her as a nuisance to someone he might actually like.

What was happening to him?

Before Agatha had been thrown into his life, he had been content. Yes, he was avoiding his daughters and their spouses or soon-to-be spouses, but he’d been just fine.

Now, his heart was in an uproar whenever he saw the slightest hint of sadness on this woman’s face. His chest tightened whenever she looked at him like he was someone who could mean something to her. And he felt lighter than ever when she did or said something that made him want to laugh out loud.

Courtney wouldn’t let any amount of gossip stay locked away for long. Guaranteed, whatever Agatha had said to her was going to get out before supper. Already, he couldn’t wait until the time when he sat around the table with his daughters and they brought it up.

He turned just as Agatha climbed out of the truck. She motioned to the bags in the back with uncertainty. “Are we taking the ATV back to the cabin? Or is there a road we can take your truck on?

“There’s a road.”

She hovered, that confounded birdhouse still in her hands. He could see the cogs turning in her head. She wanted to know something. With his luck it would have nothing to do with the road or the truck but be something else entirely.

His expression tightened, and he nodded toward the barn. “I’ve got a few things to check on. If you’d like to tag along, I’ll show you around.” Not waiting for a response, Zeke moved past her. If she wanted to come, she would. That’s what a normal person would do. Otherwise, she’d stay back and wait.

Then again, Agatha Birch wasn’t normal. Maybe he shouldn’t have given her a choice.

He got about a dozen steps away when he heard her quick steps behind him. Good. She’d gone with the smart move. If she’d opted to stay back, there was no telling what kind of trouble she might find herself in.

Agatha fell in step beside him, still holding the birdhouse. He eyed it, not understanding why it seemed to bother him so much. It was just a few pieces of wood that had been glued and nailed together and then painted.

You know better than that. The birdhouse reminds you of her.

Evelyn.

Zeke pushed away the thought of his late wife and the fact that Agatha reminded him so much of her. They were not the same person, and they never would be. His Evelyn was long gone. She wasn’t coming back.

“Do you not like birds?”

Zeke glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Why do you ask that?” Here it was. She wanted to know more about him and this was the path she’d taken. One slip, and he’d go down the rabbit hole that was his life.

Agatha lifted the birdhouse she carried and smiled as she stared at it. Her fingers traced the edges thoughtfully. “Because you didn’t seem thrilled I got this.”

He shot a look toward the glorified craft box and grunted. “I don’t care one way or another.”

“You’re lying.”

The tightness in his chest worsened as if she’d managed to find some invisible entity that could wrap its claws around the organs housed there and make it near impossible for him to breathe. His walls came up, and he stopped to face her. “Who are you to make such an assumption? You don’t know me any better than you would a man off the street.”