table at last and tossed it on the carpet with a muffled thud. “Taylor’s right, Janice. We all have too much on our plates already. This festival needs to be special. One hundred years in business is something to celebrate, and it should be done right. The way we’re carrying on, we’re going to come to the weekend of the festival and it’ll be just us standing in the park because Cash forgot to advertise it and Carter didn’t get the insurance. And Mr. Silent over there will spend the whole time playing invisible, then sign Millie up for a soccer game so he doesn’t have to think about it at all.”
Hank’s cheeks burned. Pegged again.
“I’ll give you that.” Ma tapped her pencil against the legal pad in front of her. “But Taylor—your cousin?”
Cash rolled his eyes. “Ma. Come on. Don’t tell us you’re worried about nepotism.”
“Of course not! But I...well...this is a very unique project. Taylor, I know you wouldn’t recommend her unless you believed her capable, but the fact is, family can... Let’s say, you can be surprised by their actions at times.”
Oh, hell. That was directed at him, he was sure of it. Ma still wasn’t happy about his decision to leave the dairy last year. He shifted in his seat and let his hand settle on Millie’s wild mane of hair—a steadying reminder of why he had made his choice.
“You don’t need to worry about Brynn. She’s the most organized person on the planet. And as you can see from her résumé, she has a wide variety of experiences to bring to Northstar.”
“She doesn’t stay in one place very long, does she?” Ma squinted at the paper.
“Brynn loves pushing herself. She prefers to take on special projects, short-term positions, maternity-leave replacements—jobs that will let her try new skills in new places. She also knows how to keep people in line, which I think is what we need most.”
“There’s a challenge if I ever heard one,” Cash muttered.
Taylor’s smile was the kind that a cat might offer up to a mouse in the seconds before pouncing. “I wouldn’t advise it, Cash. I think I might have mentioned my cousin the hockey player, right? The one who was in the NHL and who now lives here in Comeback Cove?”
Hank sat up straighter. The twins exchanged glances—Cash’s worried, Carter’s intrigued.
“You mean that guy who bought Camp Overlook?” Moxie asked.
“That’s her brother,” Taylor said. “I have personally seen her guilt, convince and persuade him and his teammates into doing what she needed them to do. Even the guys who spoke only Russian or Finnish couldn’t get around her.”
More looks were exchanged. Chairs shifted. Papers rustled.
“We wouldn’t need her for as long as most of her projects,” Moxie said. “We’re talking three, maybe four months. Is that enough to make it worth her while?”
Taylor glanced at the laptop. Her smile wavered slightly before she met Moxie’s gaze.
“The one thing Brynn loves more than a new adventure is her family. Half the reason she takes those short-term jobs is because it gives her more flexibility to help them when needed. Working here would be a new experience and let her be close to both me and her brother. Who, I might mention, would be extremely willing to lend extra support to the festival with Brynn at the helm.”
“So you’re saying we’d get someone who could whip these sorry asses into shape, take the bulk of the work off our hands and bring in a bona fide celebrity to fancy up the celebration.” Moxie folded her hands and sat back. “How much will she cost us?”
“She’s not cheap. But I had a thought. Since it’s so short-term, maybe we could offer her a reasonable salary and sweeten the deal by providing housing.”
For the first time since taking the floor, Taylor looked straight at Hank. It took him a second to grasp her meaning. But as every face in the room turned toward him, the lump of dread building in his gut told him he had interpreted her words correctly.
“The hell I will.”
Cash snorted. “And it finally speaks.”
“Cash, leave your brother alone.” Ma drummed her fingers on the table. “You’re right, Taylor. It would make sense to provide housing. But wouldn’t she want to stay with you?”
Millie sent her car zooming across the table. “Daddy says Auntie Taylor’s place is so small, you have to go outside to wipe your—”
“That’s enough, Mills.” Time for another talk about boundaries. Judging from the look on his mother’s face, Hank was going to be on the receiving end of one himself.
As soon as the laughter had died down, Dad piped up. “It’s up to you, Hank.”
No way. Hank had spent his entire life playing catch-up—as a sibling, a husband, a father. This time he wasn’t going to be rushed into something on someone else’s timetable. He was already pushing himself to get the cabins in shape before tourist season kicked in. The last thing he needed was to have to drop everything else to prepare for Wonder Woman.
“I’m not open yet.”
“You’re not charging her,” Taylor pointed out. “It’s not like you have to be officially open and ready to roll.”
“They all need painting. Most have holes in the roofs, and I’m only halfway through replacing the windows.”
“For crying out loud, Hankie,” Carter said. “You don’t need to have all ten cabins ready. Pick the one that’s in the best shape and get it spiffed up. You’ll probably have a couple of weeks, right, Taylor?”
She nodded. “And I can help. Either with the painting or with...um...making sure you have the time to get it done.” She glanced at Millie, who had returned to driving her car in circles.
“You know,” he said mildly, “half the reason I bought the cabins was to have more time with certain people who are pretending to not listen. Not less.”
Moxie rolled her eyes. “Oh, for the love of biscuits. We’re talking two weeks. You live and breathe the child as it is. It’ll do her good to have some space, maybe hang out with Taylor for a bit.”
He wanted to tell Moxie she was off her rocker, but he couldn’t. Because he knew too well that families could become claustrophobic. He didn’t want to do that to her.
And even though he wanted—needed—a little distance between him and his family, the fact was, he did owe them. That was the other reason he had left the dairy and bought the cabins—to stop being a burden on them. To stand on his own two feet. There was no way in hell he would have made it through the years since Millie’s birth and his divorce without his family, but it was time to turn that around.
It would be nice to be the one helping them for a change. He could never repay them completely, but it wouldn’t kill him to do this.
He looked at Millie, clad in the old shirt that she had claimed as a lab coat, her hair a halo of kinks he had never learned to tame, pushing her toy car back and forth. Maybe if they let this Brynn into the cabins, it could be good for Mills. A low-pressure way to learn how to deal with the people who would be coming and going all the time once he opened. A test case, as it were.
“This cousin,” he said to Taylor. “She’s not a diva, is she? Because even if I go full out, the place is going to be rough around the edges for a while. I won’t have time to cater to her.”
Taylor beamed. “Brynn’s idea of a good time is a cold beer and a hockey game on TV. I don’t think you have to worry about her.”
“Let’s do it,” Moxie proclaimed, and as if a switch had been flipped, everyone started talking again.
Hank let the voices rush over him and tried to suppress the feeling that Taylor’s assurances sounded a lot like