Page 6 of Call of A Eagle

She chuckled softly. “Sometimes, a little humor is needed when things look hopeless, dear. Besides, not everyone shows their best side right away. Maybe he was nervous. Sometimes people crack jokes when they’re nervous. Your grandfather used to.”

“I remember that about him,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips. “You always hated it.”

“I didn’t hate it. It frustrated me to high heavens, but only because I was an overthinker when it came to hopeless situations.” I could feel her eyes on me, but I didn’t shift my gaze to meet hers. “Sound familiar?” she pressed.

“Oh, so that’s where I get it from,” I muttered, before taking another sip of my coffee.

“The boy might surprise you, but you have to give him the chance to first.”

She was right—Granny was always right—but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about him. Plus, I needed someone I could trust to handle these beds without needing constant supervision.

Waylen felt like someone I’d have to babysit.

“It’s just,” I started. “We need someone reliable, someone who will stick around and help get this place in order. I’m not sure that’s him. What if he’s wasting our time?”

My owl fluttered her wings, not liking the way I was thinking, but I tuned her out.

Granny covered my hand with hers, and I shifted to meet her stare.

“What if he’s exactly what we need, and you’re too busy worrying to see it?” she asked.

I frowned as her words settled over me. She’d always been so good at seeing things in ways I couldn’t. It was why I came to her for advice whenever I needed it.

Still, I wasn’t sure I wanted to accept her advice on Waylen.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” I said, glancing back at the garden. “He’s supposed to be here any minute.”

“And when he gets here, you’ll see.” She gave me a reassuring pat on the top of my hand. “Just give him a chance. People can surprise you. If you let them,” she said, before heading back inside.

While what she’d said was probably right, the uneasy feeling in my chest remained. A part of me couldn’t shake the suspicion that there was more to Waylen. My owl stirred, as if agreeing with me.

I thought through our first interaction once more, trying to pinpoint anything she could have picked up on that I hadn’t, but nothing stood out.

The man was confident, acted as though he didn’t have a care in the world, thought he was funny, and was attractive.

Was that it? Was the reaction my owl had to him because he was attractive?

She’d never reacted to a man quite like this before, but then again, I couldn’t remember how long it had been since I’d dated anyone either. I’d been so focused on work that there hadn’t been time for relationships.

If my owl’s attraction to Waylen was the issue, I needed to get a grip on her because even here in Crescent Creek there wasn’t time for dating.

I had enough on my plate.

Even so, every time I thought about Waylen—about that smirk he’d given me when he first stepped out of his truck—I felt something tugging me in his direction.

Wonderful.

I frowned, casting one more glance to the driveway. Still not seeing his truck, I stood to head inside and rinse my coffee cup in the sink. Once I was finished, I made my way back outside. I walked to the garden bed I’d been working in yesterday and stared at my work.

There was so much riding on these plants’ survival.

Some were already past their prime, missing the chance to be harvested and dried for winter. Others, like the sage, were thriving too well. In addition to taming the overgrown garden, I needed to inventory the herbal room in Granny’s cabin to ensure we had enough stock for the store over the winter months. This was why I couldn’t let myself get sidetracked by a guy. I had to think of Waylen as nothing more than hired help.

My owl ruffled her feathers, irritated with me, but I ignored her.

Dropping to my knees, I began pulling weeds. As time ticked away, doubt about Waylen and his ability to be responsible enough to tackle this job grew. As much as I wanted to give him a fair chance, I couldn’t help wondering if I’d made a mistake in offering the job to him. Maybe I should have offered it to someone else.

Someone far less attractive.