“Oh, Ava didn’t mention how handsome you were.”
I stopped short at the sound of her name. “Ava?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “Did she send you?”
The eldest woman stepped forward. Her hair was snow-white, her hazel eyes intelligent, and her voice clear.
“No, Ava didn’t send us. In fact, she informed us you were private and to stay away. But seeing as you are our new neighbor and on your own, we wanted to welcome you and introduce ourselves.”
Another woman spoke up. She held a covered dish in her hand. “That’s what neighbors do.” She eyed me speculatively. Her green gaze was bright, as was her smile. Her purple streaks and facial features let me know she was Ava’s mother.
“I’m not here for long.”
Another woman holding some sort of container laughed. “You’re here now.”
I hesitated, wanting to tell them to go away. I didn’t do neighbors. I didn’t do anyone. I preferred to be alone. That was what I knew. It was all I knew.
“I’d offer you coffee, but I’m afraid I have no way to make any. Maybe another time,” I lied.
“Your grandfather sat outside drinking coffee all the time.”
“I found a carafe,” I admitted. “But no coffeemaker. It must have broken.”
The older woman shook her head. “Stubborn like Jack, aren’t you?” She stepped forward. “I’m Sandy Hayes. These ladies are Ava’s mother, Cami, and her aunts, Emmy and Dee. Now open the door, young man, and I’ll show you where the coffeemaker is.”
I was going to argue but realized it would do me no good.
“I have a dog.”
“We love dogs,” Emmy insisted cheerfully. “And we brought scones.”
Dammit. I loved scones.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “Follow me. Watch Cash doesn’t knock you over. He’s crazy.”
Twenty minutes later, it was as if a hurricane had torn through the kitchen.
Sandy had laughed when I’d shown her the carafe, and she had opened a cupboard, finding a plastic cone and filters. “You add the coffee here and pour boiling water over it,” she explained. “It’s called a drip coffeemaker.”
“There’s no kettle either.”
“Your grandfather boiled water on the stove.”
“I have no idea how to use the stove. It’s propane-based.”
“I’ll show you,” Dee insisted. “That’s what we had before we had electricity and gas lines added to the houses.”
While she was doing that and showing me how to use the ancient equipment, the other ladies performed some sort of miracle. The counter was cleaned, some containers of food put into the refrigerator after they explained each had instructions to reheat or cook. They unpacked the groceries I’d bought, clucking at the store I had been to.
“There is a much bigger one about twenty minutes from here. Better prices and selection,” Emmy said.
“Okay,” I mumbled.
The kitchen table with its plastic table cover was cleaned off, and mugs and plates for scones were set out. They had brought jam and butter with them, already in doubt, it seemed, over my ability to have items such as those on hand.
They were correct.
Cash made a huge liar out of me, greeting them calmly, lying down, and accepting their attention with a wag of his tail. He ate up the attentiveness and cooing, making me roll my eyes.
Then the women all sat and waited for me to join them. I had no choice but to pull up a chair and sit, wondering how the hell to get them out of the house—fast.
“So, Hunter. Ava says you’re doing some work in here?” Sandy asked, looking around. She leaned forward. “I haven’t been inside this house in twenty years, and it looks exactly as I remember it.”
I snorted. “It looks the same as I remember it from thirty-plus years ago.” I stopped talking, picking up my coffee. I had to admit, the carafe and filter thing were old, but the coffee tasted good. I might spring for a kettle, though.
“Yes, you stayed with your grandparents for a short time,” Sandy mused. “Your, ah, mother…?” She trailed off.
“Dead,” I said shortly.
All the women looked horrified at my terse answer.
“We weren’t close,” I stated.
“I see your truck has Alberta license plates on it. Is that where you live?” asked Cami, tilting her head and studying me. She looked like Ava, although Ava’s eyes were unique and her expression was more mischievous.
“I’ve been there a year or so.”
“And before?” she asked.
I waved my hand. “All over. Look, ladies, I appreciate the visit and all, but I’m not one to talk about myself, and I have a lot of work to do. I’ll save you some time. The land isn’t for sale. Not to you, not to anyone. At least, for now. If I change my mind, I’ll let you know. No amount of baked goods or premade meals is going to sway my decision.”
They exchanged glances, and Emmy laughed. She was a pretty lady with golden hair and warm, dark eyes.
“You have us confused with our husbands. We aren’t interested in your land. We tried to befriend your grandfather, but he didn’t want that. Sandy knew your grandmother a little, but once she passed, that was the end of being neighborly. The only one who got even remotely close to him was Ava. She checked on Jack every so often and made sure he was okay. He’d let her sit on the porch on occasion, and other times, he’d tell her to go away. But she always returned.”
Somehow that didn’t surprise me. Any of it. The part about my grandfather or Ava. Emmy kept talking.
“We have no desire to talk business with you. All we wanted was to say hello, let you know we’re right over the bluff, and you’re welcome anytime.”
I felt a rush of guilt for being rude, and I cleared my throat. “Sorry, I’m not used to company.”
Cami patted my hand. “We understand. But we’re close should you change your mind or need anything.” She paused. “So, you’ve met Ava.”
I swallowed the mouthful of scone, wondering what she had told her mother.
“Yes.”
“She mentioned you were applying for some planning permission.”
“Yes. It needs some improvements.” I cleared my throat again, feeling as if I should say something. Something nice about Ava. Probably telling Cami I would like to fuck her daughter would fall outside the realm of polite society acceptance. “She was, ah, very helpful.”
Cami nodded. “She is very good at what she does.”
“She’s very mouthy,” I said without thinking. “And she’s bossy.”
They all laughed. “That’s my daughter,” Cami agreed. “Her father’s mischievousness and my outspokenness. It’s a bad combination.”
“She steals potatoes and bacon off my plate too,” I grumped, then realized what I had said when they all looked at me.
“Ah, I ran into her this morning.”
Cami grinned. “Potatoes are her favorite food—along with bacon. But I thought I taught her better manners than to take food off a stranger’s plate.”
“We’re hardly strangers,” I snorted, then wanted to smack my head on the table.