Page 91 of The Guest Cottage

Red-faced, Herman muttered, “You live here. She works here.”

Glancing over, he saw Marlow laugh at something Leo said, then while the man was still gabbing away, she patted his back and moved on. “I didn’t make the rules.”

“What about Pixie?”

“Knowing Marlow, I assume she’d take Pixie with her.” She was like a mother hen, and Cort loved that about her, too.

Suddenly Herman loomed closer, so close that Cort felt his breath. “You’re bullshitting an old bullshitter. You’re in love with her.”

“Yeah, I am.”

Herman drew back. “You admit it?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” It was past time for him to own up to his feelings. “I probably should have said this sooner, but you’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father figure. Everything you did for my mother, and then for me.” Yeah, seeing the look on Herman’s face, he knew this talk was long past due. “I appreciate it, and I especially appreciate you. You’re the one I’ve always talked to when I needed to work something out.” Or when he’d just needed someone who cared.

Completely taken off guard, Herman flushed. “I . . .” He cleared his throat, twice, and his words emerged with reverent gravity. “I’m honored, especially since I’ve always thought of you as a son. I couldn’t be more proud of you if you were my own. You’re a good man, Cort, the best.”

That was almost identical to what Marlow had said. He certainly tried to be a good man, but the best? If he pleased Marlow, and Herman, too, that was good enough for him. “Thank you.”

“You have to fight for her, son. You know that, right?”

For one of the few times in his life, Cort knew he was a lucky man. Yes, he’d lost people who were vitally important to him. His mother, best friend, guys who were like brothers . . . as Marlow had pointed out, everyone had their share of difficulties, some more than others.

But he’d also had incredible blessings. His mother had loved him enough to sacrifice for him, and the people in this town had accepted him as one of their own. As a Marine, he’d learned the best life had to offer, and he’d met incredible men who’d shown him what his father hadn’t—the meaning of honor, loyalty, and bravery. How to be responsible, to work hard, to meet and exceed expectations.

Now he had Marlow, and she was a bigger gift than he’d ever dared hope for. She was the kind of sunshine that cut through a cloudy day, a grin when his thoughts turned dark, and a warm hug when he didn’t know he needed it. There was Pixie, and Andy. And a future to embrace.

“I plan to fight for her, but it’ll take more than me to cause change.” Cort watched him, waiting to see if he’d take the bait.

Herman didn’t hesitate. “It’s not just you. I’ll fight, too.”

“Marlow wouldn’t want strife,” he warned. “You know her well enough to understand that. Doesn’t mean we can’t sway the town with logic, right?”

Grinning, Herman tilted closer again. “What’s the plan?”

And just like that, everything fell into place.

* * *

Pixie was busy on the laptop Marlow had loaned her, searching through various merchandisers and making notes. Andy had fallen asleep thirty minutes ago, and she wanted to make the most of the time she had.

Next to the laptop was a stack of her sketches, with her favorite one on top. She didn’t know if Marlow would like it, and she was incredibly nervous about showing it to her, but if Marlow could be brave, then so could she.

Her simple rendering of a firefly, with flourishes, had turned out really cute. Delicate black lines, a few decorative swirls, and a yellow glow at the tail. Pixie had made several copies, and then experimented with font around it to create a logo for Marlow. No one had asked her for a logo, but she’d doodled while nursing Andy, so it wasn’t as if she’d taken time away from the tasks assigned to her.

When the knock sounded on her front door, she went utterly still. Ridiculous, that she was still so jumpy over a visit. There was no threat, had never been a threat, really. Marlow had handled her in-laws.

Still, before Pixie moved, she snatched up her phone and checked the small image from the camera feed. Two men were at her door.

Her first instinct was to call Marlow in a panic. But no, she immediately rethought that. Marlow trusted her to work, to become more independent.

It was time to get started on that.

Straightening her shoulders with resolve, Pixie tried to think logically. It was still light out. Her doors were locked. She and Andy were safe.

She needed to ask who was visiting.

The second, slightly harder knock, jolted her to her feet. She didn’t want the noise to awaken Andy, so she hurried into the living room and peered out the window. “Who is it?”

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