grinning.
Damon’s gaze swung to Phil. “You had to be in on this. You never dropped the slightest hint. The whole time we were emailing, you sounded like a guy discussing a construction project.”
Okay, so maybe she shouldn’t feel sorry for him. He might be gorgeous, but he could be in need of an attitude adjustment. “And how would a woman sound when she discussed that topic?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure since I don’t normally discuss construction with ladies. Just...different.”
Phil got it now. Obviously, Rosie had been justified in playing this little trick. “Maybe you’re imagining something like this.” She modulated her voice to make it softer and more tentative. “Gee, I can’t decide whether we should order the eight-inch-thick logs or the twelve-inch. What do you think? You have way more experience than I do.”
His jaw firmed. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t expect women to defer to me.”
“How about women carpenters?” She held his gaze.
Defiance flashed in his eyes. “Not them, either.”
She wasn’t sure she believed him. Before this little trick, he might have expected her to let him be in charge. Now he wouldn’t dare. “Good. We should get along just fine.”
Herb clapped his hands together. “Glad that’s settled! Who’s ready for a drink?”
“I’ll take a beer,” Cade said. “Lexi had a riding student this afternoon, but she should be here any minute.”
Rosie linked her arm through Phil’s. “Let’s go toast the construction of Cabin Number Four. I chilled a bottle of that dry white you like.”
Damon frowned. “You drink wine?”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“No, but I thought you drank beer.”
“Once in a while I do, but when someone offers a good white wine, I’ll take that any day.”
Damon waved a hand in the air. “Don’t mind me. I’m still adjusting to the new reality.” His smile seemed a little forced. “You guys go ahead with happy hour. I’m going to mosey down to the construction site before it gets too dark to see how it looks.”
After growing up around testosterone-driven males, she knew that statement for what it was—an excuse that would allow him to retreat, lick his wounds and nurse his grievances. But she wasn’t going to let him brood and build up a potential cache of resentment.
“I’ll go with you.” The trap had been sprung, and he’d been set back on his heels. But they’d be working together for the next week, and the rapport they’d established through emails was probably shot to hell. She should have anticipated that.
“Okay.” He didn’t sound eager to have her tag along.
That was to be expected. She’d just helped deceive him, so she’d have to work to win back his trust. He probably deserved the comeuppance. She didn’t know him well enough to say for sure. Guaranteed he had some outdated ideas about women’s work and men’s work, but so did a lot of guys. She hoped that wouldn’t interfere with this project.
“Don’t be long,” Rosie said. “Don’t want you to miss my famous pot roast.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Damon gave her a more genuine smile before turning to Phil. “Ready?”
“Yep.”
He didn’t say anything as they started walking out to the meadow. The earth was spongy from the previous night’s rain, and they had to detour around a couple of muddy spots. The three existing cabins followed a curve that would be a complete half circle when the fourth was built. The bathhouse stretched in a straight line behind them.
“I hope you know that Rosie loves you to pieces,” Phil said at last, to break the ice.
“I know.” He didn’t look at her as he kept walking.
But she could almost hear him thinking, so she waited to see if he’d open up.
Finally, he let out a breath. “And it was a pretty harmless trick. God knows we had practical jokes going all the time when I lived here. Cade had an endless supply of rubber snakes, and I was the master of short-sheeting a bed. We put jalapeño peppers in each other’s food and glued the toilet seats shut. Whatever prank you can think of, we probably did it.”
“But?” She suspected there was more to that little speech.
“But I thought of you as a friend. And now you’re...you’re a woman.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “It sounds as if those two things are mutually exclusive in your world.”
“Well, no, but...” His voice trailed off as if he couldn’t find the right words.
“I’m not trying to defend what Rosie and I engineered, but what if you’d known all along that I was a woman? Would you have felt as confident putting me in charge of the foundation, the wiring and the permitting?”
His hesitation supplied the answer.
“Look at all we accomplished before you ever arrived!” She stepped onto the foundation, which gave her an inch or two advantage over him. She was amused when he immediately climbed up on it, too.
Tarp-covered, numbered piles of twelve-inch logs were stacked nearby. A forklift stood ready to move them into position. Everything else was here, too—windows, the front door, roof beams and the hunter-green metal roofing that would match the other three cabins. Power tools and rolls of ceiling insulation were stored in the second cabin because Damon would be staying in the first one.
“You’ve done a great job.” He gazed at her.
“I’m glad you approve. Not to brag, but we had a hard rain last night, and you notice there’s no evidence of water pooling anywhere on this slab.”
“I did notice that. Who did the trowel work?”
“The guys from Rocky Mountain Concrete and Excavating. And me.”
He nodded slowly, as if absorbing that. “So your name’s Philomena, huh?”
“It was my mother’s middle name.”
“Was?”
“She died when I was a toddler.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t really remember her. My dad always says he loves me twice as much since I only have him.”
“He’s in Sheridan?”
“No, Cheyenne.”
“Hmm.” Damon studied her as if trying to decipher a confusing blueprint.
“The point is, I’m qualified to handle the site preparation,
