“Well, if you’ve got the time. I could use some labor. We can pay you, of course. It’ll be some cleanup, a lot of hauling.” Jasper’s questionable talent with power tools was still fresh in Cat’s mind. “And there’s something else.” She glanced over her shoulder.

“What?” Jasper reacted to her subterfuge.

“April’s treehouse.”

“You’re doing a treehouse for her?”

“Actually, you are,” Cat said.

Jasper straightened, his shoulders losing the slump. “Seriously? You want me to build it?”

Cat nodded, choosing her words carefully. “Gannon’s going to do some plans, and I was hoping you could sit down with him and walk him through what April wants. Then you can take lead on it with a couple of helpers.” A couple of helpers who kept him away from the sharp and the dangerous.

“That would be awesome,” he nodded. “Yeah. I’d love to do it.”

“Great,” Cat feigning relief. “That’s a lot off my mind. I’ll give your number to my foreman, and he’ll be in touch tomorrow. You just work what you can. I don’t want you missing out on family time or taking more time off of work. I know this is a stressful time for you guys.”

“It’s not so bad with good friends,” Jasper said, nudging her with his elbow.

“You guys are going to get through this and come out even better.”

“That’s what you said last time,” he reminded her.

“And of course, I was right because I’m a celebrity genius.”

“Is the treehouse a surprise?” Jasper asked. “I mean, it would be cool if it was.”

“Absolutely,” Cat nodded. “We’ll refer to it as the utility room around April.”

“Diabolical,” Jasper grinned. He held up a hand, and Cat slapped it.

“Team Utility Room.”

Jasper returned to the dining room, and Cat took a moment to check her messages. With Henry here now, he was fielding a portion of them so she wasn’t completely overwhelmed… yet. She could hear the team setting up the lights in the parlor for the first official rounds of one-on-ones. And the thunder of footsteps overhead. It was a gorgeous house. She’d been surprised to see Noah had chosen something with so much character, history. She itched to get her hands on it, scrape the paint from the moldings, re-plaster the walls, bring the floors back to their glory days.

It would be a lucky contractor who got his or her hands on this place. One day it would be a beautiful family home. A showcase, but a livable one. Well, if the kitchen were redesigned. Put in an island, one big enough for one of those built-in banquets. And the back porch—