Ruby: We went out with those guys from the second floor and then we ditched them as soon as Bob and Tom showed up.
Libby: I used to feel kind of bad about that?
Ruby: Love is a battlefield, girl. Plus, we just went out for pizza. It’s not like they’d invited us out for a nice dinner or something.
Libby: You’re right. Maybe we should just let Addie and Brogan fight this thing out. You’re the one who keeps saying love and hate are opposite sides of the same coin.
Ruby: I do say that, don’t I? Okay, I’ll back off and we’ll let the prank chips fall where they may.
Libby: If things work out, it’ll be part of their story.
Addison
After Brogan leaves, I hurry to put on a pair of cropped pants and t-shirt. I don’t mind Billy coming in and making coffee while I’m asleep, it’s another thing entirely for Brogan to just walk in and lurk about. My blood still feels like hot lava flowing through me. Unfortunately, this isn’t a reaction to anger. It’s pure lust and I’d kick myself for it if I could.
Before I can pour a cup of Billy’s freshly brewed coffee, there’s a knock on the door, followed by Aunt Ruby’s voice calling out, “Good morning, I brought the mail.”
I love shopping in person where I can touch and smell and feel everything before purchasing it. Having said that, there’s a thrill that comes with buying online that makes it seem like Christmas when all the boxes start to arrive.
I open the door quickly and greet, “Good morning! How did you sleep?”
She gives me a hug before walking in. “As well as I ever do.” Then she asks, “Why was Brogan here this morning?”
She must have seen him on the path. “I guess he had to talk to Billy about something. I was sleeping until just a minute ago.”
She eyes me up and down like she’s trying to decide if she believes me. Then her gaze wanders around the room. “It looks beautiful in here!” she says, clapping her hands together in rapid fire.
She inspects everything from the pine green raw silk lamp shade with the crystal beads to the basket of river rocks. “I thought it would be nice to have a small stash of art supplies on hand for guests with children. I collected the rocks thinking they could paint them,” I explain.
“What fun,” Aunt Ruby enthuses.
“They can take them home as a souvenir, but I thought it would be nice to have them paint one rock that they leave here. You can ask them to share it on social media with a hashtag of your choosing. Something like #WillametteLodgeGlamping.
“That’s a terrific idea!”
“You have a Facebook and Instagram page for the lodge, don’t you?”
Aunt Ruby looks sheepish when she answers, “We have them, but we don’t do much with them.”
“You’re missing the best free advertising in the world,” I tell her. “You need to post at least weekly if not more often, and make sure to encourage your guests to post their pictures. I promise you’ll have a waiting list a mile long.”
“Should we mention the glamping or wait until it’s all done?” she asks.
“I’d start building the excitement now and post pics of the renovations as they take place. Either way, you should be promoting the existing lodge and activities.”
“You have a real knack for this, don’t you?” Aunt Ruby asks me.
“I love all aspects of preparing a great vacation spot. People should be able to leave their cares at home and enjoy unparalleled escape when they go away.”
“Have you ever thought of opening your own place someday?” she asks.
“I haven’t.” But now that she’s mentioned it, I realize the idea has merit.
“When you get married and have kids, it might be nice to not have to travel so much.” She picks up a pine cone that I found during one of my walks.
“I haven’t spent a lot of time thinking about getting married and having a family,” I tell her. “I’ve been primarily career driven for the last several years.”
“I’m not saying that you’re running out of time or anything,” she lets the comment hang in the air like a thick mist before adding, “I mean you’re only, what, twenty-eight?”
“Thirty-two,” I tell her. She arches her eyebrows and makes a funny cringey face that suggests my eggs are passing soft boiled as we speak.
Patting me on the arm, she says, “It’s not my place to say anything. You kids need to live your own lives without busybody moms getting involved.”
“I’ll meet someone someday and, God willing, have a family.” Why do I feel like I have to defend the choices I’ve made? I know I’m getting older, but I haven’t felt my biological clock start to tick yet. Have I?
“Why don’t you come outside and see what’s in all your boxes? There must be ten of them,” she exclaims excitedly.
I follow her out the door and, sure enough, the back of her golf cart is loaded down. I hurry to look at the return address labels and discover the top three are from a fabric outlet online. “Wait until you see what’s in here,” I say eagerly.
Once we get them all inside, I start to open the identically sized oblong boxes. Aunt Ruby stands over my shoulder as I pull out the first of many bolts of fabric. “What in the world is all that for?” she wants to know.
“I bought a ton of canvas,” I tell her before explaining, “I figured that as long as you look at this place and see so much wood, you’re going to think ‘cabin.’ While there’s nothing wrong with that, if you’re selling people on glamping then they should feel like they’re camping. I’m going to drape this fabric on the walls and ceiling, in the main room, cutting holes for windows, doors, etc. so when they’re inside for the night, they’ll feel like they’re in a tent, not a free-standing structure.”
Aunt Ruby looks at me like I’m an alien who just stopped by to borrow a cup of sugar. “Addie Cooper, just when I thought you couldn’t have another great idea … I can’t wait to see how this is going to look! Do you need help?” Before I can answer, she says, “Helena up in housekeeping is a whiz with a sewing machine. We’ve put her in charge of mending whatever needs mending up at the lodge.”
“I’d love for her to come and get some measurements. She can take the fabric back up and get working on it as soon as today, if she has the time.”
“I’ll tell her the very minute I get back up to the lodge,” she says, looking as full of anticipation as I am. “What else do you have in those boxes?”
We spend another fun hour opening the rest of my purchases. The final and heaviest box is full of books that I bought from a used bookseller. There’s everything from Steinbeck’s Travels with Charlie to The Shining for adults and The Little House on the Prairie series and The Adventures of Huck Finn for kids. I put them on the small bookshelf I bought from Herman’s store in town.
Aunt Ruby’s eyes are positively glowing when she exclaims, “You’ve thought of everything. Have you tried the bathtub yet?”
“I have and it’s amazing. I never would have thought bathing in the outdoors would have been my thing, but it’s strangely relaxing.” I don’t tell her that Brogan walked in on me mid-bath, but the memory alone is enough to speed up the beating of my confused heart.
I have got to figure out what in the heck is going on with that guy. How could I possibly feel any attraction for a man who’s just threatened to start pranking me again?
Chapter Forty-Eight
The Mothers
Ruby: I may have just reminded Addie that her biological clock is ticking.
Libby: How did she take that?
Ruby: At first she looked alarmed like she’d never thought about it before but then I pointed out that she has loads of time being that she’s only twenty-eight.
Libby: She’s thirty-two.
Ruby: I know.
Libby: Your strategy could backfire you know.
Ruby: Yeah, but it’s not going to. I dropped the subject as soon as I brought it up. I just needed to plant the seed. Also, I’ve started
to think Addie is the perfect person to take over for me when I retire.
Libby: She’d never!
Ruby: Never say never, my friend. I have a feeling about this …
Brogan
I’d bet my last dollar that James is helping Addie exact her revenge. Being that both the prickly Miss Cooper and Billy were with me when my doorknob and floor were greased, somebody else has to be on her payroll. I’m willing to bet the down payment on a new hay baler is all the motivation my brother needs.
The ironic part is that I’d buy James a hay baler right out if he’d let me, but he’s got too much pride for that. Not enough that he wouldn’t swindle it out of me though.
The lot at Poppa’s is full when I pull in, so I drive a little farther and park in James’s driveway. His weathered farmhouse lies just beyond the farm stand. I walk over to Poppa’s to see if my brother is there and find him fighting with the same woman he was arguing with the other day.
I didn’t realize it before, but she looks really familiar. I just can’t place where I know her from. I hear James exclaim, “Why do you keep coming back here?”
She responds, “I’m looking for a new supplier for my work and you have good stuff. If you’d only certify it, I could bring you a lot of business.”
“Why are you looking for someone new? Wait, let me guess, your old source quit because you’re such a ginormous pain in the butt.” My brother glares at her like he’s trying to bore holes into her skull.
“For your information,” she answers, “my current supplier’s produce is wonderful, but their prices are a bit steep. I’m trying to increase my company’s profit margin.” I briefly wonder if she works for the market in town. It’s either that or a grocery chain. James better think twice before he passes up an opportunity like that.
“Lady, I need you to walk out of here and never come back. Do you understand?”
“How in the world do you expect to make a living with such poor people skills?” she retaliates.
“People love me,” he assures her.
“I can’t imagine,” she retaliates.
“Why is it so important that your supplier be certified organic,” he asks, sounding truly bewildered. “Folks around here understand the term ‘no spray.’”
I intervene before the two of them start ripping each other’s hair out at the roots. “Hey, brother, what are you up to?” I ask him. “Been greasing any doorknobs lately?”
He turns his attention toward me and demands, “What are you talking about?”
“I was just wondering where you were earlier this morning.”
His nemesis offers, “He’s been here being unpleasant to me for the last three hours.”
“Three hours?” I ask, shocked.
“Fine, twenty minutes,” she says. “But your brother is so annoying and pig-headed, it feels more like three hours.”
James doesn’t even respond; he merely turns and walks away. I run after him. “Dude, you need to hold your temper with that woman. What if she’s the buyer for Willamette Valley Grocery or something? You could be giving up a lot of business.”
“I don’t care if she buys produce for the royal family. I can’t afford to be certified organic and even if I could, I wouldn’t waste the money on it.” He stops walking and turns to me before asking, “What’s this about greased doorknobs?”
“Someone oiled my doorknob and floor leading into the cabin this morning. I know it couldn’t have been Billy or Addison because I was with them when it had to have happened.”
James starts laughing. “You’re kidding? Looks like you’ve made more than one enemy, huh?”
“I don’t have any enemies,” I tell him, although I briefly wonder if Emma might consider me such, now that I won’t father her child. I haven’t shared this information with James yet, so I take the opportunity to do so.
“Emma Jackson wants you to be her baby daddy? That’s pretty ballsy, all things considered,” he says. “You don’t think she’s pranking you, do you?”
“How in the world would playing practical jokes on me help her end game?”
James shrugs. “You got me. So, you think it’s Addie, huh?” He’s acting almost too innocent with hands in his pockets and that naïve Forest Gump expression on his face.
“I think someone is helping her and I had considered that someone might be you,” I tell him pointedly.
“Sorry, bro, I’ve been here since I woke up at four a.m. I have farmhands out the wazoo who can testify to that. Ask them if you don’t believe me.”
I believe him, but that means someone else is in collusion with Addie and it makes me nervous not knowing who that person is. “Never mind,” I tell him. “Do you want to come up and have dinner with me tonight? I thought I’d put some steaks on the grill.”
“Only if you feed me early,” he says. “I need to be in bed by eight.”
“I can feed you at six, does that work?”
“Yup. I’ll bring a six pack and some peaches and cream for dessert. You need anything else?”
“No, that sounds good.” Then I ask, “Hey, do you need any help around here today?”
“Seriously?” he sounds surprised. Surely, I’ve helped him before. I mean, I did just dig holes for peach trees the other day.
“Yeah, I’ve got nothing on the books today. I’d love to stick around and lend a hand. What are you up to?”
“Spreading manure in the fields that have already been harvested. I need to get the soil ready for spring planting.”
Of course, we’re spreading manure. What did I expect, a nice day of peach picking?
Chapter Forty-Nine
The Mothers
Libby: I’m planning to be back in a week. I’ll text Addie so she can come to terms with her anger at me for leaving before I show up again. She’s texted me over a dozen times.
Ruby: Wait until you see what she’s done with the cabin. The girl has a gift!
Libby: That she does.
Ruby: I thought you might be interested in knowing that I got in on pranking Brogan today. I’m thinking the sooner those two have a big blowout, the better.
Libby: Go team!!!
Addison:
True to her word, Aunt Ruby sends Helena up from housekeeping. She’s way younger than I expected—probably in her late twenties. She’s also quite beautiful and exotic looking with her high cheekbones and wide-set eyes. I briefly wonder what led her to her current occupation.
Helena seems just as excited as I am about our project and promises to be done within the week. I can’t wait to see the final results.
After she leaves, I’m not sure what to do with myself. I’ve done as much as I can with the cabin until more supplies arrive. I decide to change into some jeans and boots and follow the citron ribbons I tied in the trees down to the main road. I think I’ll avail myself of some of the lodge’s outdoor activities.
I consider my options and decide that zip-lining is something I’d want to share with a friend. I briefly wonder if Cheryl would go with me sometime while I’m here. I also feel strongly that boating and paddle boarding should be done with someone else, in case I lose an oar or something. I’ve never particularly mastered water sports.
I therefore conclude that I should see if the stable has a mount available for me. As outdoorsy as people claim I’m not—and there’s some truth to that depending on their definition—I’m a stellar horsewoman. I’ve been a regular rider since I was six and even though I don’t currently own a horse, I do rent one whenever I can, either in Central Park or upstate where my parents live.
An older gentleman is brushing down a mare when I walk up. He’s wearing a cowboy hat and dressed in all black like the Lone Ranger, sans the mask. I imagine he cut quite a dashing figure in his day. “Hello!” I call out while offering a wave.
“Howdy.” He tips his hat. “My name’s Jeet. How can I help you?”
“I’m hoping you can set me up with a ride. I’d like to go out for a couple o
f hours.”
“All I have left is this here little lady or a cantankerous old coot named Thunder Foot. We don’t let guests ride him though.”
“Why not?” I ask. By the looks of the girl he’s brushing, she wouldn’t be good for more than a slow walk, and if I have to run from a cougar I want to make sure I’ll get away.
“He’s unpredictable. Only man that could ever ride him without worry was the owner of this place, Tom Cavanaugh, but he’s been gone for about a year now.”
“Uncle Tom used to tell me about him. I’d love to give him a go.”
“Uncle?” he asks.
“My parents are good friends of the Cavanaughs.”
“Let me call up to the lodge and ask Ruby what she thinks about that. If she says you can ride him then I won’t stop you.”
While he makes his call, I walk into the barn to find Thunder Foot and make friends with him. The only horse left in a stall is as black as a moonless night with a mane so long it makes me want to braid it. Although he’s so handsome on his own, he might take offense at something as girly as a braid.
I walk up to him and gently say, “Hey, big fella, what do you say, do you want to be friends?”
He whinnies in reply and stomps his back foot twice. I take that to mean he’s bored and wants to run. I gently scratch behind his ears and he lowers his head to give me better access. “Why, you’re just a big sweetie, aren’t you?”
He bobs his head up and down as though agreeing. I grab a carrot out of the bucket and give it to him, careful to lay it on my open palm and not offer any fingers for biting. After another carrot and a scratch, Thunder Foot and I are fast friends.
Jeet comes back into the barn and announces, “Ruby says you’re good to go if you want to take him out.”
After finding out which saddle to use, I throw it over the horse’s back. He tenses his belly so that his abdomen fills with air and I can’t get the cinch tight. I whisper to him, “You and I are friends and I’m not going to upset you in the least. Relax your belly so I can get this saddle on properly.”
Love is a Battlefield (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers Book 1) Page 21
