"Sounds about right," Evelyn snorts, shooting Locke a teasing glance. "When he first came up here five years ago to fix my roof after that big winter hurricane, he wouldn't let me step out onto the back deck without three layers of coats and a pair of boots. He tried to rebuild the entire porch framing in a snowstorm because he thought the steps were 'too steep' for me."
"The steps were too steep," Locke says, taking a massive bite of stew without breaking stride. "The wood was rotted, Evie. You would've put a foot through the floorboards by February."
"They were fine,” she insists with a wave of her hand, though the affection in her eyes is unmistakable. "He nearly burnt down my kitchen that same week, too. Tried to make some sort of chili from scratch. Used three whole jalapenos and fo
