Page 7 of Fake It Till You Make It

Eli tried not to deepen his scowl and failed. “Nope.”

Praying for a miracle hadn’t produced a single applicant or improved the red in his ledger. Six weeks ago, he’d paid eighty bucks to place a weekly help wanted ad in the tri-county bulletin. With his twelve-hour workdays, he needed more than a groomer on staff. He’d settle for a front desk receptionist/veterinary assistant/kennel technician who’d share in his fantasy that the clinic’s floating pay scale was a financial adventure rather than a sign of imminent collapse.

“The right person will come along.” She smiled at him. “You’ll see.”

“Yeah” was all he said, because he had his doubts—and an ever-increasing mountain ofPayment Overduenotices.

“Where’s your pup?” Leah asked, shifting from a hopeless proposition to his retired military pooch. Count on his momma to shield her son from experiencing more disappointment.

“Out back,” he replied. “The sun will bake him before toolong.” One look and he knew his momma suspected his exit strategy.

She chuckled, removing her glasses, nimble fingers folding the wings, one then the other, before setting them aside. “You think leaving Hiccup outside will make this a quick visit, huh?”

Despite his irritation at the conversation to come, he smiled. “Why’d you call a meeting?”

“Eat your breakfast before your brothers get here. You’ll need fast reflexes for Mrs. Kline’s feline, Adele.”

A mixed practice like his, daily work with large and small animals, required stamina for ornery horses and cattle and a layer of protective padding for the household companions.

“You’re stalling.” Glancing down at the stack of pink papers beside his momma, Eli recalled the “add ink” symbol flashing on the office printer.

What has she done this time?

He imagined his face on a poster with the words FREE TO RICH WOMAN printed above his head.

“Hmm,” she sighed, after a sip, not divulging her latest scheme. “That’s good. It’s a new blend I ordered from the computer.”

For her birthday, Tobias had gifted their momma a laptop computer. Every item regardless of the retailer came from the ever-present computer. Eli detested the ease in which technology invaded everyday living, monopolized countless hours. For what? Likes and smiley faces from strangers? No thanks.

“Momma, spill it,” he grumbled, ready to hear the mission impossible, reject it, and then get on with his morning. “Whoever she is… I’m going to pack up her juggling act and send her back to the carnival.” He’d suffered enough humiliation for love’s sake. “We can find our own women.”

He watched as Leah struggled to hide her amusement.

“Name one woman you’ve entertained in the past four months, Eli Calvary. Who are you bringing to Gracie Lou and Caleb’s wedding in three weeks?”

She had him there. In fact, the only woman to enter his mountain-view cabin on the west end of the property had been… no one.

“I don’t want a woman or a date. I tried both, Momma,” he huffed. He’d loved Cara with everything he had inside his heart. Shared his dreams of a family, passing on his share of the Calvary land to their children. “Didn’t work.” Consistency and loyalty were valued in his hometown. But in the world beyond this rural community, they’d been his weakness. Coming home to Service had restored some semblance of order in his life. He had a purpose, but no way to pay a debt on a life he never owned. A four-figure mortgage on an empty house.

She reached over and patted his hand. “Cara wasn’t the one. She was a selfish, conniving—”

“Momma,” he exclaimed, squeezing her hand, “I’m over it.”

“And Vanessa Williams is my twin sister,” she said in quick retort, her cheeks flushing red with irritation.

“Once the house sells, it’ll free up some cash.” That’s if the property sold. According to his realtor, most growing families valued bedrooms over Cara’s indoor serenity garden. “And please give Auntie Vanessa my best when you speak to her.”

“Don’t be flip, Eli. You’re about to violate a momma policy and unlike yours, I have the power to exact punishment. That awful woman hurt my baby,” she muttered. “I won’t say any more about your ex-wife, but… I’m thinking aplenty.”

“I hear you, Momma Bear, but beauty felled this beast.” He’d been so taken with Cara’s appearance and attentionthat he’d missed how different they were. Four years and one divorce decree later, he’d seen more than he’d ever wanted to witness regarding the ugly side of trusting the wrong woman. He was done. Cooked. Burned. Scarred.

“Beauty, huh… not the b-word I’d choose,” she groused. “Keep living. You’ll discern the difference between a woman’s makeup and her make up. You’re a man who trusts people at their word, Eli.”

“Right.” Scrubbing one hand over his scruff, Eli choked down old resentment with now-lukewarm coffee. Trusting people, especially women, led to disaster. He’d be like his father, self-reliant. Self-made.

Just then, Tobias, dressed in his emergency medical technician uniform, appeared with a grinning Noah on his heels. According to Leah, he and his brothers resembled their late father—warm beige skin, midnight hair, long legs, broad shoulders. The only difference was their eyes. Eli had inherited his mom’s green eyes, piercing and assessing. Tobias’s intense blue-gray eyes, like his personality, were a balance between a rising storm and breaking dawn. And Noah, his hazel gaze accentuated his big cat magnetism and trapped more women in the tri-county region than a possum cage coated with smooth peanut butter. His baby brother had never met a lady who garnered a “No, thank you” from him to aclosed-doorconversation.

“You alright, Mom?” Tobias bent and placed a kiss on their momma’s offered cheek.