Sharing Spaces

by Nadia Nichols

  Senna whirled around, eyebrows raised. “I can’t just lie in bed, any more than you can. There’s way too much to do. Besides, I’m fully recovered.”

  “You sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.”

  “That’s too bad. You looked so damn cute all cuddled up in the blankets that I was hoping you’d stay a little longer,” he said, giving her a grin that wasn’t the least bit boyish.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  WAVEY AND GORDINA HAD DONE little to justify their existence in the time between Senna getting lost and breakfast the following morning. They’d carried a few things up from the plane, but Jack still had to unload most of the provisions he’d picked up in Goose Bay the day before. By the time the last of it was hauled up to the lodge, unpacked and stored away, his legs were like rubber. He collapsed on the porch step and might have passed out there except for a gentle touch on his shoulder. Senna sat down beside him and offered him a cup of strong hot tea and a ham sandwich. She’d showered and changed into her own clothes, and her energy levels had rebounded the way he wished his own would. She looked beautiful, as always.

  “I just got off the phone with my aunt who owns the inn where I work,” she said. “She’s FedExing all the amenities we’ll need, including the turn-down chocolates and two dozen bathrobes for the rooms.”

  “Turn-down chocolates and bathrobes?” Jack said. To him the concept was ludicrous. This was, after all, a wilderness lodge where the fishing was of paramount importance and nothing else really mattered.

  “Of course. Nice, thick luxurious ones that our guests can wear to and from the hot tub. She’s giving us a great price on the amenities and the robes. Speaking of hot tubs, we should fire ours up and give it test run after supper. You could definitely use a long hot soak after yesterday, and so could I.”

  Jack contemplated this unexpected but promising suggestion while taking a swallow of the strong tea. He thought about the bottle of champagne he’d purchased with the last of his life’s savings and a light bulb went off. “I’m game if you are.”

  “You’re on. I’m helping Gordina in the kitchen tonight, whether she wants my help or not. She has two more days to learn how to cook a meal that can be eaten by humans. And another thing. I’ve unpacked all the liquors into the bar area, but I’ve been thinking about the logistics of it. What if a guest over-indulges and falls off the porch steps? Are we liable? Does our insurance cover that?”

  “Good question. Better call the insurance company, and ask Granville. Oh, by the way, he left a message for you at the lake house. He hasn’t found a certain important letter yet, and you may need to sign some papers soon.”

  “Granville is a dear, sweet man, but I think he was a better friend to my grandfather than he is a lawyer to me. As far as the legal documents go, if they haven’t arrived before tomorrow, he’ll have to forward them to Maine.”

  Jack felt a painful twist in his gut at her words and looked away from her, across the river to where the dark spruce hid all the mysteries of the wildest places. “Think of all the adventures you’ll be missing while you’re back there planning other people’s weddings.”

  Senna gave a rueful laugh as she pushed to her feet and stretched. “I think I’ve had enough adventures in the past two weeks to last me a lifetime, thank you very much.”

  SENNA SPENT THE EARLY AFTERNOON unpacking crates of her grandfather’s expansive collection of books and arranging them by category into the bookshelves that spanned one entire wall, perusing some of them briefly and wishing she had more time to spend reading. Wishing she had more time here. The thought was not new to her, even after the horrendous experience of being lost the day before. She wanted to stay here with Jack and Charlie and shepherd the opening of the lodge for business. She wanted to make sure that the meals were prepared correctly, that the flowers were picked fresh daily, that tea was served each afternoon promptly at 4:00 p.m. and that the guest rooms and public areas and kitchen were kept spotlessly clean. She wanted to stay for all those reasons, but most of all she wanted to stay because of how she felt about Jack, who still didn’t know about the prospective buyer Tim had found because she still hadn’t found the right moment to tell him.

  Senna sighed, thumbing through a wildlife encyclopedia. A photograph slipped out of the book and fell to the floor. She picked it up and turned it over. A black wolf stared back at her, its eyes just as yellow and vivid as those of the wolf she’d seen yesterday. Her grandfather must have taken this picture. She looked at the back and sure enough there was a date penned in the upper left-hand corner, and written beside it in his neat hand, “Raven, Naskaupi wolf near the Wolf River.”

  “I bet it’s the same one I saw yesterday,” Senna murmured, feeling an eerie tingle through her body. She knew the picture had probably been taken from a great distance because she’d seen several telescopic lenses among her grandfather’s photographic equipment, yet it appeared that he’d been eye to eye with the great wolf.

  She heard a man’s tread coming across the porch and looked up as Jack entered the lodge. He had a wrench in one hand and a greasy rag in the other. Senna rose to her feet and showed him the photograph. He turned it over and read the back.

  “If he’d lived, the admiral would have championed the Naskaupi wolf pack,” Jack said, handing the picture back. “He hated the fact that they’re persecuted because they follow the caribou herds, culling out the weak. He knew the wolves kept the herd healthy, but the locals shoot them on sight, thinking they’re decimating the caribou. That’s why it was so unusual for that wolf to come so close you. Usually the mere whiff of human scent sends them off in the opposite direction at thirty miles an hour.”

  Senna tucked the photograph into the book and sighed. “Why is it that any predator other than human is regarded as pure evil and labeled a varmint? I sure don’t miss the politics at my old job, or the mindless hatred and persecution of the coyotes, but I do miss the field work, and all those days spent in the woods.”

  “Even after yesterday?”

  Senna laughed. “Even after yesterday.”

  “The admiral was right about you,” Jack said. “If you can still crave being in the woods after yesterday, you’re wild at heart. I’ll go fire up the hot tub and get the water heating, then feed the dogs.”

  “I’ll hunt up our cook,” Senna said. “With any luck she’s already prepping the meal.”

  GORDINA HAD LITTLE REGARD for the idea of an early supper, and even less for Senna’s plan to help her prepare it. “I can manage on my own,” she said with a huffy attitude.

  “Yes, I’m sure you can, but many hands make light work. Believe me, you’ll have a whole summer of cooking by yourself and wishing you had help.”

  Senna had spent a great deal of time in the banquet kitchen at the Inn on Christmas Cove and was familiar with prep work, hot-line protocol and basic culinary techniques. While not a chef in any sense of the word, she recognized a good one when she watched one in action and could tell a great one just by the way his or her staff worked together. She could easily step in during a crisis and perform nearly all the jobs in the busy kitchen, whether it be creating apps, cooking entrées or washing dishes. She tried to instill some of this knowledge to Gordina as the two of them prepped for the evening meal, but Gordina wasn’t the least bit receptive. Wavey appeared halfway through the process and volunteered to plate up the salad, which was a simple spinach and strawberry presentation with a sprinkling of pistachios and a honey balsamic dressing.

  One and a half stressful hours later the meal was as ready as it would ever be and Senna was at her wits’ end. There was no way Gordina was going work out, and Wavey, in her slow, dreamy way, had dropped half of the very expensive pistachios onto the kitchen floor while plating and garnishing the simple salads, a task that took her a good five minutes.

  Senna left the kitchen long enough to light the fire in the dining-room fireplace and make sure the glass-ware and silver were polished at each place s
etting. The flames were licking up into the kindling and curling around the log when the satellite phone rang in the reception area. She answered it on the third ring. “Wolf River Lodge, Senna speaking. How may I help you?”

  “Senna, it’s Tim. I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to get an answer from you about your partner’s thoughts about selling the lodge. Hammel’s flying back from Europe tonight and he’s going to be calling me in the morning.”

  Her heart plummeted at the sound of Tim’s somber voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you last night, Tim, but I…” She almost told him about being lost but caught herself in the nick of time. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Do you have any information yet? What should I tell him?”

  “I haven’t told Jack yet, but I know he won’t sell his half,” she said, her grip tightening on the receiver. “You’ll have to tell Mr. Hammel that.”

  She heard his sigh. “That’s too bad. It’ll be difficult for you to sell half of a business that doesn’t have a history of making money. What if I brought this guy out to the lodge so Jack could meet him? They could talk things over, discuss different options. Do you think that might change his mind?”

  “I doubt it. He loves this place.”

  “Hammel really wants to see it. He can fly to Labrador on July second. Could you run that by Jack? It wouldn’t hurt for the two of them to meet.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell him. He’ll have to stay in Goose Bay because we’ll be full, but I’m sure Jack can ferry him out here for a tour of the property.” She heard Jack’s footsteps coming into the living room even as she spoke. They paused briefly outside the registration area when he heard his name mentioned, then continued on into the kitchen.

  “It would be nice if he could stay there for a night or two.”

  “Tim, I’m not going to bump a paying guest out of their room so some rich corporate executive can decide whether or not he wants to buy out my half of the business. He doesn’t have to stay here. Most people shopping for a house don’t sleep overnight in it before they buy it.”

  “Senna, this guy’s a big-time outdoorsman. He hunts and fishes all over the world and has all kinds of game trophies hung on his walls. He e-mailed me some pictures of his lodge in Alaska. It’s a pretty fancy place. I don’t know how fancy your Labrador lodge is and I told him that, but he seems to know quite a bit about it already. I guess he knows the banker who gave your grandfather the construction loan, which doesn’t surprise me because Hammel seems to have connections all over. I’m only telling you this because I think if he likes the place he’ll buy it on the spot and he’d get a better feel for it if he could stay there.”

  “If he feels he must stay overnight, the earliest vacancy we have is at the beginning of September, when fishing season ends,” Senna said, wondering what a rich corporate executive hunted for in Alaska, and what he would hunt here, and how he could possibly know the banker who held the lien on the lodge. If Hammel knew that much, he probably knew how deep in the red they were.

  “It probably snows there in September,” Tim pointed out.

  “Probably. It snows here in June.” Senna heard Jack’s footsteps returning. “I’ll talk to Jack,” she said, anxious to complete the call.

  “Will you call me as soon as you know?” Tim asked, and just then Jack bellowed loudly, right behind her, as though calling the cows in from pasture.

  “Senna, sweetings, time for dinner!”

  Senna jumped to her feet, cupping her hand over the phone’s mouthpiece, and glared out over the registration desk. Jack, dressed in his finest blue jeans and flannel shirt, grinned back at her even as Tim’s voice came over the line, astonished. “Who was that?”

  “My business partner,” Senna responded, choking back the sudden urge to laugh as Jack turned and sauntered back toward the kitchen.

  “He doesn’t sound like he’s in his seventies, and why did he call you sweetings?”

  “Oh, Jack calls all the girls that,” Senna said. “He’s quite a card. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything, Tim. But I know he’s not going to sell out to Hammel.”

  Minutes later she was shooing Jack out of the kitchen, where he was busy removing the lids from all the pots on the stove in order to peek inside. She gave Wavey last-minute instructions. “Remember to serve from the left and remove from the right. Replace any used silverware when you clear. Refill water glasses as needed, and offer to do the same with any wines the guests might be drinking with their dinner. This is a trial run, but pretend it’s the real thing and try your best. Okay?”

  Jack was already seated at the table but he jumped up when she entered and ceremoniously held her seat for her. “Thank you,” she said, unfolding her napkin into her lap with formal aplomb. “Prepare to be wowed.”

  “Oh, believe me, I’m ready and waiting.” He sat back down and hitched his chair closer to the table.

  “Where’s Charlie?”

  “Hiding out at the cabin. He figures it’s safer there.”

  Senna waited a few minutes, and when Wavey didn’t appear she sighed. “I’m sorry, but I’m too tired to get back up,” she explained before raising her voice and shouting, “Wavey, now would be a good time to start dinner service!”

  Jack grinned, clearly enjoying the performance before it even began. Wavey made her tardy appearance holding two salads. She put Senna’s down first, which was proper, and then Jack’s, but she served them both from the right, which was wrong.

  “Remember what I told you, Wavey,” Senna coached. “Serve from the left, remove from right.”

  It was hard to know what the girl was thinking, or if she even thought about anything at all except her romantically tragic non-relationship with Jack. Wavey left the room and reappeared almost immediately carrying two soup bowls, putting one in front of Jack’s salad and the other to Senna’s left.

  “Wavey, you don’t bring the soup in until after the guests have finished their salads and you’ve cleared their salad plates. And don’t forget that our water glasses need to be filled. That’s the very first thing you should do, after which you might ask if we would enjoy a glass of wine with dinner.”

  Wavey’s frown turned into a full-fledged pout. She placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t think it’s fair that you should be sitting there eating while I work,” she said. “I’ve worked all day long.”

  “Wavey, this is a practice run so you’ll know how to do everything properly when the guests arrive.”

  “I still don’t think it’s fair. I worked hard today and I’m just as tired as you are.”

  “All right, then.” Senna stood with a surge of frustration. “You may leave. I’ll do the rest of the serving.”

  Wavey hesitated. “Don’t I get to eat?”

  “No. At least, not with us, and not the good stuff. Go back to your cabin and get some rest. You obviously need it.”

  Wavey drifted from the dining room and Senna plopped back into her seat with a moan, dropping her head into her hands. “Honestly, Jack. I don’t see how it’s going to work.”

  Jack tasted the spinach and strawberry salad. “This is great,” he enthused. “Pistachio nuts. Very exotic.” He stood, went to the dry bar, and procured a bottle of merlot and two wineglasses. “Shall I pour for you, poor exhausted young miss?” Senna laughed as he poured two glasses of wine. He set her glass down and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Be patient,” he said. “Wavey’ll probably do great around real guests.”

  “We can only hope,” Senna said, feeling her heartbeat leap at his touch.

  The soup was a Portuguese kale with spicy jalapeno chicken sausage. Jack finished his salad in six huge forkfuls and then inhaled his soup. “Killer,” he pronounced. “Can I request seconds? We should serve this soup every night.”

  “Our guests would get sick of it and no you can’t have seconds.” Senna cleared the salad and soup dishes and brought out the entrées. “Which would you prefer, the chicken or the beef?”

&nbs
p; “I’m a meat-and-potatoes man,” he said. She set the beef in front of him and returned to her seat.

  Jack wolfed down his steak and vegetables. His plate was as clean as if a dog had licked it. “Unbelievable,” he said. “I didn’t know food could taste that good. Say, wedding planner, wanna full-time job?”

  “Got one, thanks.”

  “What’s for dessert?”

  “Sorry. No time to make dessert, and I didn’t want to use up one of the frozen pound cakes. They’re great in a pinch.”

  Jack sat back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. “Two truths. That was the best meal I’ve ever eaten, and you’re the best dinner companion I’ve ever shared a meal with.”

  “It helps that you’re starving and lonely,” Senna said, but she glowed at his words. “I’m optimistic that Gordina will be able to manage the simple preparations. Both the chicken and beef were easy entrées to make.”

  “Thanks for trying to make me feel better,” he grinned. “More wine?”

  Senna shook her head. “I’m so tired I’d fall asleep.” She stood to clear the plates. “Coffee?”

  He shook his head. “Hot tub.”

  “I’ll help Gordina with the dishes and be right out.”

  “Gordina can manage without you. Meet me in five minutes.”

  “Do you think it’s safe to get in a hot tub after a big meal?”

  “I think it’s mandatory. Besides, that wasn’t a big meal. It was a delicious meal, but those portions were scrawny.”

  “Those are standard portions,” Senna pointed out. “You’re just used to huge lumberjack meals.”

  “Damn straight. A man puts in a hard day’s work, he needs a lot of food.”

  “True, but the guests aren’t going to be working like slaves the way you do. Most people don’t.”

  Jack stood. “Five minutes. And don’t be late.”