by Cari Quinn
Winchester Falls was on the edges of the state park. Trees and a glass-smooth expanse of water hugged the road. Bare fingers of tree branches reached for the water. It was probably quite lovely when it was in full greenery.
But even with the wintry gray pallor to the tree branches, it had a stark loveliness that California simply didn’t. Clouds streaked the sky, leaving a wake of blue sky like an after burn. She’d said it was lovely, but he hadn’t been prepared for just how much.
He’d loved the breakers off Monterey for the majority of his life, but he found that the serene stones and trees suited him.
“This way?”
She nodded. “Turn up Heron Way and take a right at the large oak.”
“There’s tons of trees.”
“You’ll know it when you see it.”
“All right,” he agreed. He was glad for the wide grip of his truck tires on the gravel road. “No pavement?”
“The gravel is better for drainage in the spring.”
He nodded, and the huge tree came into view. Large was an understatement. The tree had to be as old as the damn lake. It was huge and knotty and needed a good trim. Weathered, gray rough-cut fences lined the property along the lake’s edge. A lot of them needed repairs.
His chest tightened, and muscles bunched in his thighs and shoulders. Almost everything needed repair from what he could see. A faded barn with a warped door was the first thing he saw off the road into the bed-and-breakfast. Huge river rock stones led to the door, but they needed tamping and sanding for stability. The wraparound porch sagged in spots, but the stairs looked new. They seemed to be pressure-treated wood, at least, but they were unstained and didn’t match the rest of the deck.
The door was a cheery red with black-framed windows. Fat pots of mums were strategically placed for color to draw the eye. The split ranch-style house butted up against the water. He could see the edges of Kendall’s precious dock.
A dock that looked as old and tired as the rest of the property.
“This is your favorite place on earth? What the fuck, Kendall?”
KENDALL CURLED THE unbendable ends of her straightened hair around her finger. His gaze darted around the property with cold precision. She saw the place through his eyes, and her eyes pricked with tears.
For years she’d been doing all the repairs on her own. Fixing what she could, making the rest of the property work. She’d put all the money she’d been able to into the dock out back and the deck coming into the house.
She crossed her arms over her stomach. Day in and day out, she’d done everything she could to keep up. Now, after some time away, it seemed so…shabby. She was only one person. And the last few winters had been harsh. It was all she could do to keep the fishing cabins winterized for people who braved the ice fishing. But the year before had been a mild winter leaving the cabins empty, and she’d dipped into her savings just to keep the taxes paid.
“I’ve been doing the best I can.”
“You made it sound like it was a paradise in the middle of upstate New York.”
“It is. It can be.” She hated the stutter of unease that trembled through her.
He pulled off the gravel road and climbed out of the truck, slamming the door. She hopped out and hurried around the front after him. He paced along the fence, stopping at the split lower spindle. He crouched in front of it and pinched the rotting wood.
“You actually invite people to come here?”
The slice was deep. “The main house is well maintained, and we have nothing but glowing referrals.”
He stood, looming over her. His hazel eyes were chips of cool jade filled with dismissal. “From who?”
“We have a loyal list of people who come back for fishing and snowmobiling.”
“Fishing and—” He paced up and down the fence. “This is zoned to be a B and B, not a game and recreational park. I looked up the paperwork. Christ, if anything happened to the men on the lake, are you even covered?”
She threw her shoulders back. “Of course we are.”
He finally stopped pacing in front of her. “How could you not tell me it needed this much work?”
In her head she’d known, but she’d been treading water for so long seeing just how run-down it looked after time away left a gaping hole in her chest. But she’d fight for it. The Heron was worth the fight. “It’s manageable.”
“Manageable?” He turned to her, his eyes hard and remote. “This looks manageable to you?”
“If I had some help. If you could only see how amazing it could be.” She looked past the sagging fences to the lake and the reeds of weeping willows. The graceful arc of a heron as it landed on an icy rock and folded in its huge wings. “I don’t want to lose this place.”
She’d been hanging on by her fingernails for so long. She’d thought maybe, just maybe someone else would see what she saw. Shane, of all people, with his renovation knowledge could make the Heron beautiful.
She faced him. “Can’t you see how special this place is?”
His eyes were flat and emotionless.
Fear took hold. Everything she’d been worried about threatened to suck her down. “You can’t want to sell it.”
“The property is worth more than this entire operation, so you’re damn right I want to sell. I will be selling.”
“No,” she whispered.
“Oh yeah. What are you going to do when you can’t make a repair? What happens if someone gets hurt on the dock or the porch that’s sagging? Do you just want to go bankrupt to keep this place?”
“Of course not. We’re just falling on hard times right now. Things will—”
“What? You think they’ll turn around? The only thing that would help this place is to sink at least ten thousand dollars into the property. I haven’t even seen the main house to know what else it needs.”
She shut her eyes against the angry tears that wanted to fall.
She’d been so afraid this would happen. That he’d see the place and not feel the magic in the land, in the woods and the water.
“I wanted you to see the potential of it all.”
“Potential? Do you know what kind of money you need to pull off the potential you’re looking for?”
She crossed her arms over her chest.
“At least forty thousand to really turn this around to be worthy of a B and B trade magazine.”
She dropped her hands to her sides in shock. “I don’t want to be in a trade magazine.” Her breath backed up into her chest at the arctic frost of his face. “I want families who want to go out on the boat in the summer or to play on the dock and swim. I want people who love the winter and snowmobiling and skiing that’s close by. I want people who want to hike and enjoy a place that’s a little off the beaten path.”
“Are you getting that?”
She used to. But no matter how much hospitality she and her mother showered on people, he was right. She looked away.
“That’s what I thought. You lied right to my face.”
“I didn’t. I just told you what I see.”
His face slid into the stony mask she remembered from the first day she’d met him. “Then you’re lying to yourself too.” He climbed into the truck and left her on the path. Instead of going up to the main house, he made a U-turn and headed back down Heron Way to the main road.
She tipped her head back, felt the hot tracks of her tears as they burned down her temples and into her hair. The fresh scent of the water calmed her. The sun crept along the mountain line. A pink sky settled against the water.
It would be beautiful tomorrow. And he was gone.
She wiped her face and followed the road up to the house. Her mother stood on the porch, her red wool cape around her shoulders. She came down the stairs and met her at the end of the driveway.
“I thought I heard a truck. Why are you alone?”
“I—”
“Oh, Kendall…what happened?” Her mother gathered her under the cape, and h
er mother’s warmth seeped into her. Cinnamon wrapped in vanilla curled around her. The scent so familiar her tears returned. She put her cheek on her mother’s shoulder and hugged her tight.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d let her mom hang on to her. Lily was shorter than her and softer with rich dark curls she kept in a chin-length style tucked behind her ears. The only thing Kendall had inherited from her mother was her brown eyes.
Currently a lovely bloodshot thanks to her own stupidity.
“I don’t know if I can survive losing the Heron, Mom.”
Lily rubbed her back. “Where is that man? Shane? Is that his name? I think I need to have a talk with him.”
Kendall laughed for the first time since that morning. Mama bear was out in all her Italian glory. She sniffed and drew back. “He just took off. I don’t know what’s going to happen now. He could be in town finding the Realtor for all I know.”
“All right, let’s not get sarcastic or hysterical here.”
Considering that was usually her mother’s reaction, she bit her lip. She had to pull it together and make a plan with Shane. She couldn’t lose her place. She had to make him see all the best parts of it.
But what about them? The look on his face had shredded her. Beyond the anger and beyond the surprise, she’d seen the hurt and the flash of betrayal. She’d just wanted him to see it with her eyes, not with any misconceptions.
Instead all he’d seen was a lie.
With his love of building, she’d hoped he would see the amazing under the worn. But she’d been wrong. God, so wrong.
She steered her mother back up the drive to the stairs. “Were you able to get Sully to fix the hot water heater?”
Her mother sighed. At least Kendall would get a small stay of execution on the discussion of Shane. Soon enough he’d have to come back, and they’d have to face each other.
He could take the money from the job and run. She’d been so hoping he’d want to put money into the Heron and in them. Again she’d been so wrong it hurt.
“He got it to work again, but it barely covers a shower.”
“Shane—” She cut herself off. She didn’t know if Shane would fix it now. Kendall cleared her throat. “As soon as I figure out money, I’ll get it fixed.” She might be able to go to the scratch-and-dent sales at the warehouse and find something.
“We have those two brothers from Georgia coming in to stay at the cabin on the lake. They heard that we’d gotten early snow and want to come out for a weekend.”
“That’s great. Anyone else?”
Lily sighed. “I’m afraid not, sweetie.”
Kendall nodded. She’d have to tap Bells for a temp position to help bring some money in. She had secretarial skills that came in handy around this time of year.
“I need a shower.”
“I held off on Thanksgiving dinner. I figured it would be just as good to do it on Saturday and have Bells and her family come out.”
“That sounds heavenly.”
“Why don’t you go upstairs and take a quick shower—you’ll freeze if you don’t—and take a nap. I’ll watch for this Shane person to return.”
“I want you to come get me when he gets back. I don’t want you to meet him alone.”
“Why? Is he dangerous?”
Even at his most growly, there was nothing about Oscar that had been dangerous. No. Not Oscar. Shane. She didn’t have the right to use her nickname for him. Not now. “No. That’s not it. I just don’t know how he’s going to react and how you’re going to react around him.”
“I’ll be perfectly civilized.”
“Right.”
“Kendall Marie Proctor!”
“Just please, do this for me. Okay?”
Her mother gave an exaggerated sigh. “All right.”
Kendall climbed the stairs to her room at the back of the house. She’d refurbished all the bedrooms to rental rooms, tirelessly sanding the floors and repainting. Repurposing furniture from garage sales and using every DIY project she could manage on her own. Or anything she could drag Bells into doing with her.
Her bedroom was a converted pantry from the original structure of the house. It was just big enough for a twin bed and shelves she’d created to hold everything from a small stereo to her cable console. A modest flat screen TV filled the wall at the end of her bed.
It was simply a nook for her to collapse in at the end of the day.
She climbed into the shower and let the hot water run until it flowed cold. Her typical apple shampoo and conditioner made her feel normal again. She looked out the window, but his truck still gone.
Armed with her fleece pj’s and woolen socks, she headed back downstairs to talk to her mother. A nap was probably a smart idea, but she couldn’t hide in sleep right now. No, she had a lot to explain.
Lily was curled into her chair with her current knitting project on her lap and the fluff-ball cat that seemed to own the house. Kendall leaned in. “Hello, Murdoch.”
He lifted his head for a long scratch under his chin before curling back into her mom’s lap.
“Do you want anything to eat?”
Kendall shook her head. “Not hungry.”
“You’re always hungry.”
Kendall managed a half smile. “Not at the moment.”
Lily sighed. “You really got yourself messed up over this man. You swore you’d never be like me, but here you are.”
Kendall’s spine snapped straight. “I’m not—”
“Larry and I fell hard and fast. Within two weeks we were moved into this house with every room spoken for. We had so many plans for more children,” she said absently.
“You wanted more kids?”
“Of course. We wanted at least three, but then…” Her mom trailed off. “Well, then we didn’t.”
Was it a we or just a he? She didn’t have the heart to dredge up that question. Not when she was pretty sure Lawrence had not only left them but cheated on her mother. Did Lily even know that?
A sudden bang at the front door kicked adrenaline through her system. She checked the peep window. Shane’s imposing form filled the doorway. She shook back her hair and opened the door. Water dripped from the brim of his baseball cap, and his eyes glittered darkly.
Normally his height made her feel safe, but right now he just felt too overwhelming and too angry. She stepped back. “Where have you been?”
“I don’t answer to you.”
His cool voice was filled with the old Shane, and she hated it. Remote and angry, the man from their road trip was long gone.
He stepped inside and looked around. His quick assessment made her shoulder blades itch. Instead of the derision she’d been expecting, he seemed calm and accepting.
“Lily Proctor, this is Shane Justice. He’ll be staying with us for the foreseeable future.”
Shane held out his hand. “I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.”
Her mother tipped her head back. “Are you sure you’re not Larry’s boy?”
Kendall flushed. He damn well better not be.
“No, ma’am. My father died before I was born. Larry raised me, for all intents and purposes.”
Lily narrowed her gaze. “Oh, really?”
Shane’s face gentled. “Yes, ma’am.”
Kendall’s gaze wavered for a moment before she blinked away the wash of tears. He didn’t have to be nice to her mother, but he was. She crossed the room to the small wine fridge she’d stashed behind a small bar she’d restained. She poured herself a glass and took a slug before turning back around, her innkeeper’s smile in place. She’d get him settled and make the best of things.
“Can I find you a room for the night?”
“That’d be great.”
Kendall glanced at her mother. “Is the Sage Room made up?”
Her mother nodded.
She returned her attention to Shane. “Did you bring your stuff in?”
“I’ll bring it in later
.”
“Okay,” she said stiffly. She could feel him behind her as she started up the steps. Instead of waiting for him, she darted up to the next floor and down the hallway. He was finally in her space, in her things, and he was acting like they were strangers again. She could feel the headache brewing.
She opened the door and quickly surveyed the room. Cream sheets, deep sage comforter and walls, with a buttery pine bed reminiscent of their time at the church. Slatted headboard, side table, and a simple dresser kept the room uncluttered. The room smelled of lavender.
This part was her mother’s doing. She loved keeping the rooms clean and romantic. Kendall backed into the door, her skin on high alert when he filled the space. He swept by her; his distinctive amber scent was stronger and so distracting she wanted to crawl into his arms and apologize.
But she didn’t.
She didn’t have anything to apologize for.
Maybe she’d talked up the place more than was warranted, but she honestly saw it that way. Time away had taken some of the polish off, but it was her place, and she was proud of it.
“We have breakfast at seven, lunch at one, and dinner at six. You’re welcome to come downstairs for a meal with us.”
“Thank you.”
She tried not to react. But the throaty thanks shot everything all to hell. She stopped at the door, not looking back at him. Before she could do something dumb, she followed the hidden hallway to her corner of the house and jammed her fist into her mouth.
Crawling under the covers, she pressed her cheek to her cool sateen sheets and let the tears fall into her pillow.
Chapter Seventeen
Dawn drove Shane from his bed. The mix of lavender and vanilla in the room should have been too fussy and female, but he’d slept deeply and dreamlessly.
Kendall had said the inside of the B and B was finished and well preserved, and she’d been right. He wandered through each room before going downstairs to find the coffeepot. Instead of lingering for breakfast, he escaped to the property and found his supplies in the barn.
