Mitch glared at him across the table, but he didn’t say anything because nothing he wanted to say could be said in front of Rosie.
“Stop pushing your brother’s buttons,” she chided Ryan, who just grinned at him.
He could grin all he wanted, but he wasn’t touching Paige. Paige was his. Maybe not quite yet and maybe not for very long, but it was enough to make her off-limits to his brother. But since she didn’t know that, the best thing to do was keep Ryan busy at the lodge until he went back to Massachusetts.
Then he’d start working a little harder on the whole Paige being his thing.
*
“Just write down ‘kerosene and a match’ and call it good.”
Mitch tossed the clipboard onto the tailgate of Ryan’s truck. “We’re supposed to be making a list of supplies to fix the place up.”
“Like I said—kerosene and a match.”
“You know what?” They were only a little more than halfway through the day, but he’d already had about enough of Ryan’s shit. “Go home.”
He started to walk away, but Ryan grabbed his elbow and would have spun him around, except Mitch yanked his arm free. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t want to be here. You don’t want to help. Fine. Go home.”
“I’m here and we’re supposed to be making a supply list.”
Mitch put his hands in his pocket to keep from swinging on his brother. “Kerosene and a match? You think that helps?”
Ryan blew out a breath and shook his head. “Sorry. I’m just in a shitty mood today.”
It wasn’t just today, though Mitch decided against saying so. Ryan tended to be in a shitty mood whenever he was forced to visit Whitford, and Mitch was pretty sure he knew why. Back when they were in college, something had happened between Ryan and Lauren Carpenter—Dozer’s daughter—that had changed the way Ryan felt about coming home to Whitford. And he apparently hadn’t gotten over whatever it was yet.
He almost asked his brother about it, which he’d never done before, but Andy Miller came around the corner of the lodge, with Josh not far behind him. Probably for the best, since it wasn’t his business and it probably wasn’t a good time to poke at his brother’s sore spots. Not that it ever was, but especially not when the last time he’d seen all three of them in as foul a mood was the day they’d talked Liz into taking a stupid risk on the toboggan. After Rosie got her inside with a bag of frozen peas combating the egg on her forehead, she’d made the boys shovel every bit of snow out of the yard—not the driveway, but the actual backyard. It had taken the four of them more than three hours, and they’d been cranky as hell. Right now, they were worse.
“When you start breaking it down, it’s not that bad,” Andy said, seemingly oblivious to the tension between the brothers. “A lot of small projects that take more time than money, with only a couple bigger ones.”
“How big?” Mitch asked.
Andy shrugged. “With the way the boards have weathered and are tweaking, I’d recommend replacing the porch rather than piecemealing repairs, and then scraping and painting the whole thing. And it’s well past time to upgrade the windows and doors to something more efficient.”
“I got an estimate on replacing the windows with low-E glass,” Josh said, “but, after I was through shitting bricks, I tossed it.”
“I’ll do the windows,” Ryan told them. “Not right now, but before late fall hits. For now, we should fix the steps and focus on the smaller things and, when I free up a crew, we’ll come up and replace the windows, doors and the porch.”
“A crew?” Josh looked skeptical.
“Couple of the younger guys. Maybe they’ll learn something, and I pay them less than the experienced men.”
“What are you calling smaller projects?” Mitch asked Andy.
“Gotta mix of a little bit of everything. The siding’s not bad but, if Ryan’s going to pop in replacement windows—” he paused and looked at Ryan, who nodded “—then we won’t replace the window trim, so it should all be scraped and painted. The stairs, as he said. Some landscaping stuff—some trees still need limbing and shit like that. The barn floor’s starting to sag pretty good, and storing the sleds and the four-wheelers in there’s a lot of weight. Most of the planks can be flipped and reused, but we need to get down there and reblock it. Some other stuff. Like I said, more elbow grease and time than money.”
“One guy’s only got two elbows and a certain number of hours in the day,” Josh said defensively, as though he’d been accused of something.
“The important thing is that we have a plan,” Mitch said. “Which means now we can finally have some lunch.”
They all started toward the house, except Andy. When Mitch looked back, he said, “I should probably go…do some things. I’ll be back later this afternoon, though.”