“I found out Maggie was turning up—I have my sources.”
The other Sloans of Sloan & Sons, Noah suspected. He wondered if Brandon’s presence at the ball explained why Maggie had been so upset. Noah decided his and Dylan’s lives in San Diego, running NAK, were simple compared to the lives of the people he’d met so far in Knights Bridge.
“Is Maggie aware you’re working on Dylan’s place?” Noah asked.
“Not yet, no. Olivia doesn’t know, either. I asked Dylan to let me tell Maggie first.” Brandon stretched out his thick legs. “I’m camping up there. We start demolition on the house soon. I figure I can use the facilities here if need be. Olivia won’t mind.”
He seemed confident, even matter-of-fact, not at all presumptuous. He’d probably known Olivia—and Maggie, his wife—most if not all his life. Noah’s one near-lifelong friend was Dylan.
“When did you arrive?” he asked.
“This morning. I pitched my tent out of sight of the road. I’m glad Phoebe didn’t see me. She’s protective of her sisters. They stick together, those four.” Brandon settled back in his chair, obviously not concerned about the O’Dunn sisters or anyone else. “How do you like Carriage Hill?”
“It’s not as quiet as I thought it would be.”
Brandon grinned, then glanced around at the lawn and gardens, the fields, the hills in the distance. “I want to get my two boys out here to help with the work on Dylan’s place.”
“How old are they?”
“Five and six. Tyler’s almost seven, though. Don’t worry, I’m not talking about real work on the site. Just get them started on learning how to use a hammer and screwdriver. Maggie’s got them baking tarts and peeling artichokes. I don’t object, but they need this, too.”
Noah would guess that Brandon had learned to say he didn’t object to his sons learning to bake tarts and peel artichokes. What he meant instead was that he was afraid his young sons were missing the influence of their rough-and-tumble father. Noah didn’t have the particulars on Brandon Sloan’s troubled relationship with his wife but could see that he loved his sons.
Brandon stood abruptly, as if he wanted to escape wherever his thoughts had just taken him. “Dylan offered me a ticket to this masquerade ball but I didn’t take it. I wanted to pay my own way. I went as a pirate. Maggie made me faster than I thought she would. Maybe I should have gone as a banker instead.” He paused, then added wryly, “She’d never have recognized me as a banker.”
Noah made no comment but he thought that Brandon had a point.
Brandon turned, his expression serious as he narrowed his dark eyes. “Don’t tell her that I’m camping out up at Dylan’s. Leave that to me.”
“No problem.”
“I don’t mind camping. I’m back on my feet financially but I want Maggie to take me as I am. With or without money.”
“For better or worse,” Noah said.
“That’s right.”
“Why are you sleeping in a tent?”
“It beats staying with my folks or one of my siblings.” Brandon gave a mock shudder. “Trust me.”
“Then you don’t have your own place?”
“I gave up my apartment in Boston the first of the month. I’m saving every dime I can. I was in and out of work for a while, but I’ve been working nonstop for the past six months. It’s good. No complaints.” He paused, looked at Noah. “I won’t drag this thing out. I just have to do this in my own time. Understood?”
“Of course,” Noah said. “I’ll respect your wishes.”
He thought that Maggie O’Dunn Sloan—or any woman in her position—would appreciate knowing that her estranged husband was sleeping in a tent a few miles from her, but he wasn’t one to offer advice on relationships.
“I can help out with anything you might run into here,” Brandon said.
“I just made pesto with the town librarian. What could I run into?”
Brandon grinned. “Snakes in the stone walls. ’Course, where you’re from, you have poisonous snakes. A little old garter snake probably won’t bother you, right?”
“Probably not,” Noah said.
“Bats?”
He hadn’t considered bats. He smiled. “The hazards of country life.”
Brandon tilted his head back, eyeing Noah with an intensity that other people might find intimidating. “You’re not up to anything here, are you? Why didn’t you go to San Diego with Dylan and Olivia?”
“I’m dog sitting.”
At first Brandon didn’t respond. Then he laughed. “Right. Dog sitting. Enjoy your pesto, or did Phoebe take it all back with her?”
“It’s in Olivia’s freezer.”
“I’d never had pesto until I met Maggie. I’ve known Phoebe since nursery school. We’re the same age. She’s a special person in Knights Bridge. She looks after all of us.” He settled his gaze again on Noah. “And we all look after her.”