Page 12 of Whisk Me Away

I blew out a long breath. A flood of relief washed over me as I replayed his words, mentally praising the Lord. This was better than expected.

"You are my favorite person right now, Liam!" I flung my arms around his neck, catching him by surprise. He politely patted me on the back, grunting in response. I drew back, letting him go so I didn't make him any more uncomfortable than he already was.

"We can start tomorrow if that works for you,” he said, walking toward the front door.

"That works! Thank you again!" As soon as Liam left and the door closed behind him, I let out the girliest squeal, dancing in a circle with my hands in the air.

"Good news?" The gruff voice from the front door startled me. I flung my body around, letting out a small yelp of surprise.

My hand flew to my chest as my heart took off like a racehorse. "Brant! You scared the heck out of me! What are you doing sneaking up on a girl like that?" I willed my heart to return to its normal pace and tried to catch my breath.

“Sorry, ma’am,” his Tennessee accent bled through his words. At least he had the decency to look sheepish as if realizing his mistake. "I saw Liam leave and figured you were in here. Wanted to check on the progress."

"Oh, yeah, Liam's company is helping with the restoration. He said they’re going to start tomorrow, and it should only take a few months to fix everything up. Once his crew is done I get to design and decorate it,” the giddy feeling coursing through me had yet to wear off and I hoped it never would.

"That's great. Excited to see what you do with the place,” Brant gave me a soft smile, making my heart kick into high gear again. That smile caused a dimple to pop in one of his cheeks, making his face take on a new level of handsome.

“Thanks," I felt my cheeks flush, and I could only hope they weren't giving away how much his smile and kind words affected me.

"Sheriff, you there?" Brant's walkie squawked from where it sat on his shoulder, clipped to his uniform.

The sound broke our trance, causing me to jolt back and busy myself by walking around the room.What was that? Did we just have a moment? I shook my head focusing on the display case that was in dire need of some TLC.

"Go ahead," Brant responded from behind me.

"We need you over at the General Store. Got a situation with a possible shoplifting in progress."

"Copy. I'm a few blocks away,” Brant blew out a long breath that had me turning to meet his gaze. "Gotta go,” he jutted his thumb over his shoulder.

"Right. Duty calls,” I laughed, trying to eliminate the sudden tension surrounding us.

Brant didn't say anything more. He just gave me a tight smile and a curt nod before stomping out the front door. I leaned against the grimy display case and tried to make sense of the last few minutes.

CHAPTER 8

BRANT

"May the God who gives endurance and encouragement grant you to live in harmony with one another. May you welcome those around you just as Christ has welcomed you. And may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen,” Pastor Walter closed the church service with a benediction before we filed into the courtyard.

"Great service,” Gram said, patting mine and Brooks' arms.

"It was. Is it time to eat yet?" The low grumble of Brock’s stomach punctuated his question. "What? I'm hungry,” he shrugged his shoulders.

"You are always hungry, boy,” Gram laughed. She wasn’t wrong. My brothers and I could always eat, but Brock would out eat the rest of us nine times out of ten. "I have my Sunday roast cooking if you want to head to my house."

Mom and Dad took that moment to wander up to us. "Did I hear someone say Sunday roast?" Dad pulled each of us boys in for a back-slapping hug before leaning down and placing a kiss on Gram's cheek.

Our family had been attending church together for as long as I could remember. My brothers and I got baptized, went to youth group, and tried to attend every Sunday gathering here. I may not want a family of my own, but these people right here were more than enough. They were the only people I knew would always be there for me and didn't need anyone or anything else.

"Of course. But if you want some, you'll have to rake the leaves from my front yard first,” Gram gently patted my dad's cheek with her hand.

"Wait, you mean just dad, right?" Brock asked hopefully. Although I had no idea why he was asking. We all knew that Gram relied on us men to help maintain her yard and house. Even when Brock whined, we would all happily serve her without question. We’d do anything for that lady.

"How long have you been around, Mister?" Gram threw a mock glare at Brock, but before he could answer, she kept going. "Twenty-three years, so don't you tell me you've forgotten how we do things around here. You will all get out in the yard and clean up those leaves if you want something to eat."

Brooks and I held back our snickers at the scolding Brock had just taken. He may have been a pain in the butt most days and always wanted to make a joke out of everything, but he was a Landon. And we loved him anyway.

"Way to go, Brock. Pissing Gram off before noon on a Sunday,” Brooks smirked while he shoved Brock in the shoulder, making him trip.