That wasn’t a house. That was a lodge. “I have to keep that clean?” she asked as she pointed out the window toward the three-story log house. Cody chuckled as he climbed from the backseat of the four-door Ford Lariat. He came around and opened the passenger-side door while Sam grabbed her bags from the backseat. “Not the whole thing,” Cody said with a smile. “Sam and I use very little of the house. My father built it that big in the hopes that Sam and I would one day marry and both families would live here together. He always wanted a houseful of grandkids.” She took the hand he offered her as she gingerly swung her legs around. “Where is your dad?” She set her feet on the ground, wincing slightly at the pain in her stitches. “He died a few years ago.” Her gaze shot to his. Sadness darkened the amber color, and her heart broke for him. “I’m so sorry. Were you guys close?” Cody nodded but didn’t say anything else.
