Rylee flipped to a section with breads and slowly scanned recipes. She searched for her grandmother’s pumpkin bread. Her grandmother had made the best pumpkin bread. Every year, she packaged a loaf and mailed it to Rylee. Rylee loved receiving those loaves a day or two before Thanksgiving. She often brought the bread to the office to share.
Rylee studied the recipe. It was listed as a quick bread and didn’t seem too hard. A couple of cans of pumpkin, spices, flour, sugar, and eggs. She pulled a small, white tablet of paper from a basket of pens and other odd jumbled items and jotted down ingredients. Afterward, she checked the canisters sitting on the counter for flour and sugar. At the same time, a shadow passed outside the backdoor window.
“Raisin,” Rylee hissed. “Raisin.” Her heart pounded, and she held very still.
The dog growled low in his throat. Rylee reached in the drawer for a cutting knife. She placed it in front of her.
Raisin continued to growl as the person stepped onto the back steps and peered in the window. Rylee cursed herself for not pulling the curtains.
A knock on the door, and her Dad shouted, “Rylee!”
Rylee dropped the knife onto the counter. She grabbed hold of Raisin’s collar, so he wouldn’t fly out the door. “Good boy,” she said. “But we know him.”
Rylee stepped to the backdoor, twisted the deadbolt lock, and pulled open the door. “Dad.”
Her father stood before her. Water dripped off his thin shoulders and balding head. A gutter overflowed and splashed water onto his T-shirt. Rylee sighed and grabbed Dad’s arm. She pulled him away from the sputtering and splattering downspout. The gutter was one more thing to add to the house repairs. “What are you doing here?”
Dad stepped into the kitchen. He yanked off his wet coat. Water pooled on the floor beneath him as he dropped his black duffle bag and a small, over-the-shoulder case. “Transportation never was easy out to Cranberry Bay at this time of the year. I should have remembered the late November storms.”
“But what are you doing here?” Rylee’s pulse raced. She hadn’t believed Dad when he said he would visit Cranberry Bay. He never had returned before. It had to be the sale of Grandma’s house that pulled him here. She opened a top cabinet and pulled out a ceramic mug with the letters Cranberry Bay Festival stenciled in white. Her feelings engulfed her, and tears strangled her throat. She loved Dad, and nothing made her happier than being around him. But a part of her always tensed. She waited for the bad news. Dad always had bad news. Over the years, she’d gotten better at reading his moods. She knew when he’d won big and when he’d lost big. But he could still throw her off-guard. Rylee leaned against the counter and studied him. Which one would it be this time?
“I’m spending Thanksgiving with you.” Dad wiped his forehead. He reached into his bag and pulled out a small tablet. “I told you I wanted to spend the holidays with you. The bus was supposed to be here this morning, but a landslide cut off the road. We had to detour all the way down to Seashore Cove and back. Took a heck of a long time to get out here.” He looked at the open cookbooks on the counter. “Planning Thanksgiving dinner? If you make up a list of ingredients, I’ll pop up to the store tomorrow and pick everything up for us.”
“I just need to get a few things for the bread. I can do that.” She wasn’t going to tell him her dinner plans included the Shuster family home.
Dad rubbed his chin. “I wonder if the annual football game with the high school alumni still takes place up at the park. I’ll swing by there tomorrow. It’ll be great to see everyone.”
Rylee stared at her Dad in amazement. He hadn’t been back to Cranberry Bay in over four decades. His entire life had changed since he left with a celebration parade and town party. Grandma always kept Dad’s baseball pictures in a photo album. She left it on the coffee table. Rylee had enjoyed thumbing through the pictures and seeing Dad, the town hero. So many residents of the small town had pinned their hopes on him. He was the son, the grandson, and the nephew everyone always wanted. No one but Rylee and her grandparents knew what had happened to that small-town boy. Grandma said it was the death of Rylee’s mother that kick-started the gambling. Dad had been so devastated over losing his beloved wife, he turned to gambling as a way to cope. But Rylee knew better. She knew the gambling started long before her mother died. She’d lay awake listening to her parents fighting. She’d packed her bags in the middle of the night to escape from the men in dark suits who seemed to follow them. Her summers in Cranberry Bay were a welcome relief from the fear she lived with on a regular basis, and, like Grandma, she kept the secret. She didn’t want to do anything to encourage Dad to show up and bring with him all the fear she felt in Vegas.
“Things aren’t the same in Cranberry Bay.” Rylee tried to discourage Dad from seeking out the town’s annual football game with high school alumni. “I’m not sure they even host that game any more. They’re closing the elementary school. People have left Cranberry Bay.”
Dad loved a party. He loved an audience. If he knew Cranberry Bay was dying, he would not want to stay.
Anger constricted Rylee’s chest. How dare Dad show up now? He severed all ties years ago. Dad scorned the small town. He said it was the last place he wanted to be. When she was little, a man and woman came to see them. Dad put the couple up in an expensive hotel and took the man out to play golf while Mom sat by the pool with the lady. Dad said it was his old high school buddy, and he wanted to show him a good time. But after the couple left, Dad closed the door and rolled his eyes. He said he never wanted to see anyone from Cranberry Bay again, and he’d promptly headed for the casinos.
“Of course people left Cranberry Bay.” Dad shook his head. “It can’t be helped in small towns like this one. The town stops growing when residents resist every change. The next thing you know, the town is a ghost town.”
“You don’t care about the town.” Rylee leaned back against the counter. She crossed her hands over her chest. Her insides shook as she thought of the people she’d come to know in Cranberry Bay who called it home. Ivy and her passion for her antique shop. Katie, who carried on her Mom’s store with her own vision. Sasha and her determination to raise her son on her own.
Dad studied Rylee. “Not really. I grew up here, but I made a life somewhere else. Things change. The faster you learn that, the better you’ll be. It’s good not to hold onto anything for too long.”
Rylee shook her head. It wasn’t just her sewing circle friends and Bryan who loved Cranberry Bay. She loved Cranberry Bay for all the comfort and security she’d found in it over the years. She loved it for the way people helped each other and genuinely cared. The sandbag party to save the cottages. Bryan stopping at the side of the road. Rebecca Shuster opening her home to Rylee for the holidays.
Dad reached into his bag and pulled out a small laptop computer. He set it on the counter and powered it up. “You got wireless in here?”
“Yes.” Rylee spit the words out through gritted teeth. “It’s an open connection. There’s no need for a password.”
“Is that safe?” Dad slipped on a pair of reading glasses. He gazed at her over the steel frames.
“It’s Cranberry Bay,” Rylee said. “Things are safe here.” She left out how scared she’d been to find Dad on the back porch.
“Crime happens in Cranberry Bay, too. You’d be wise to remember that.” Dad turned back to his computer screen. She tried to stop herself from leaning over to see what Dad was doing. Was he looking at a bank statement? Or gambling online?
“I know what you’re thinking.” Dad looked up at her, and his eyes bored into hers. “But I’ve kicked the habit. No more gambling.”
“No more gambling?” Hope rose in Rylee’s chest and then crashed. Dad had promised to stop gambling in the past. But each time he returned to it within weeks. The last time was over a year ago. After a particularly bad loss, and the repossession of his car, he showed up on Rylee’s doorstep. That night, Dad swore he was done with all gambling.
There would be no more, but if she could loan him $5,000 dollars to pay off the last of his debts, he’d walk away a free and clear man and pay her back as soon as he could secure a stable job.
Too afraid that if she didn’t, Dad would return to gambling, Rylee agreed to Dad’s terms. She had just deposited a large check from a design project and easily wrote the check to Dad. She asked Dad if anyone was after him for money, and he denied it. Rylee hoped he told the truth. The last time he’d been in debt had been especially bad, and he’d been beaten to within seconds of ending his life. Dad spent over a month in the hospital and another three months in physical rehab. Even now, Rylee was never sure Dad had completely regained the use of his left shoulder.
“No more gambling.” Dad glanced back at his computer screen and smiled.
“What are you doing?” Rylee asked, curious to see what brought one of his unexpected smiles to his face.
“Nothing,” Dad moved to flip closed his computer, but not before Rylee saw the logo of an online dating site flash across the screen.
“You’re using one of those online dating sites!” she cried, her voice filled with awe and surprise.
Dad’s neck flushed. He looked up at her, and his eyes sparkled. “I thought it was time. I’m not getting any younger. I’d like to have someone to enjoy the remaining years I have left.”
Rylee’s heart contracted at her Dad’s honest sentiment. Of course he would want a partner, just like she wanted to spend her life with someone she loved. Her mother had been gone for years, and Dad had never really dated. Although there were always single moms in her school classes, he never looked twice at them. “I’m too busy raising my daughter,” he’d say. Only Rylee knew the truth; he was too busy spending evenings at the casinos, and his first love had always been gambling.
“You really are serious about stopping gambling,” Rylee said.
“Yes,” Dad said. “I am.” He chuckled lightly. “Now how about you? There was that boy you once loved in Cranberry Bay, right? Is he still here?”
Rylee flushed from the roots of her hair down through her toes. She quickly turned away and busied herself with washing a glass in the sink.
“Rylee,” Dad said, his tone light and teasing. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Rylee said quickly. She turned around to face Dad. But she couldn’t remove the smile from her lips.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Dad said. “Do I need to buy a tux for a wedding?”
“Oh,” Rylee gasped. The thought of marrying Bryan filled her with a joy she hadn’t dared feel. “I don’t think so. I mean not yet…” But hope danced around the edges of her mind. If Dad had really kicked the habit, then he wouldn’t need her to support him any more. She would be free to start her own life in Cranberry Bay. No one in Cranberry Bay would ever have to know about his past. He’d be a different man without gambling.
“I’m happy for you.” Dad stood and embraced her. “You’ve worked really hard, and I know it hasn’t been easy trying to support me over the years. I appreciate all that you’ve done for me. Now it’s my turn to make it up to you. What do you say I move in here?”
“Here?” Rylee gasped. She looked around the kitchen. “To Grandma’s house?”
“Yes,” Dad said. “It’s completely paid off. I’ve got money that I put into some investments, and I can help pay the expenses.”
Rylee narrowed her eyes. “What type of investments, Dad?”
“Investments,” Dad said. “Good investments.” His firm tone told her the discussion was over. “If I move in with you. I can pick up the expenses. I know jobs aren’t easy to find in this area, so that will give you some time to explore a bit.”
Rylee stared at her Dad. She wanted to believe in Dad. If Dad really did have good investments, then he could carry the house expenses. She would have the freedom and time to set up her own business again. Once she did the work for Colleen, her name would get out. There were plenty of hotels in the surrounding beach towns that could use her services, not to mention owners of second-homes, when the market recovered. And she wouldn’t have to sell her grandparents’ beloved home.
“So.” Dad said. “What are the Thanksgiving plans?”
“The Shuster family has invited me for dinner.” Rylee straightened and smiled into Dad’s eyes. “Why don’t I call and ask if there is room for you?”
“I would love that,” Dad said. “Rebecca Shuster was in school about the same time as me. She raised quite a family, I hear.” He winked at her. “Including Bryan Shuster.”
“Yes,” Rylee said, as the heat moved through her again.
“Why don’t you let me make that call in the morning?” He nodded toward the old rotary phone on the wall. “Does that thing work?”
“Yes. The old phone still works.” Rylee said, a sudden giddiness filling her. Everything was going to work out. Dad had stopped gambling. He could return to the town again. And she and Bryan could finally be together again.
Chapter Fourteen
On Thanksgiving, Bryan woke to the smells of apple pie and cinnamon. The phone rang in the kitchen below his bedroom. His Mom’s footsteps strode across the hardwood kitchen floor. Her cheery voice traveled through the air ducts into his room. Bryan stretched and smiled. Was it Sawyer calling to ask about the green-bean casserole he and Lauren always made together? Or maybe Adam calling to tell Mom he’d be late because he forgot to pick up the cranberries for his salad. Holidays at the Shuster house were always filled with laughter and good cheer. Bryan pushed back the covers and headed toward the bathroom. In a few hours, Rylee would join with them in their family celebration, and he couldn’t wait to see her.
In the bathroom, Bryan flicked on the light. He had shared this bathroom with Sawyer and Adam. They had many fights for mirror-time during high school. But they never complained to Lisa, who had her own bathroom. As the only girl in the family, it seemed only right that Lisa had her privacy as a teen. The only sister of three brothers, she survived football games in the backyard, toy trucks scattered all over the living room, and dinner table talk that could easily break into burps and belches before Mom silenced everyone with one of her looks.
Bryan turned on the shower and stepped into the bathtub. He pulled the shower curtain closed. The hot water rained down on his face. It was useless to deny how he felt about Rylee. His attempt at not falling in love had failed miserably. She’d always been the only girl who could turn his heart to jelly and make him want to go to the ends of the Earth to protect her. As a woman, she had become even more attractive. There was a depth to her eyes that could only have been created by life experience and made him love her more as a woman than he had a girl.
She had captured his heart again. But his conscience nagged at him. What if it got out that he’d been involved in a bet to convince her to stay? How would Rylee feel knowing she was the object of that bet? At the time, it’d seemed like the best way to obtain the money he needed for the riverboat casinos. But now he doubted his decision. He didn’t want to hurt Rylee, and if she found out she’d been used as a pawn, she’d be devastated.
Bryan turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a thick towel and wiped himself dry. If the cottages sold for a good price, he wouldn’t need the bet. He could ask for corporate sponsors for the remaining monies for the riverboats. But would the cottages sell for a strong asking price? And was there enough time to sell them? Plus, the City Council still had to approve the riverboats, and without Sawyer’s backing, how likely were the council members to approve something like the riverboat casinos? Everyone knew Sawyer was good for his word. He’d shown the town over and over that when he said he’d do something, he would do it. With Sawyer funding the riverboats, the community would know there was a good, strong intent behind the plan. But without that funding and Sawyer’s seal of approval, Bryan doubted the City Council would approve his vision.
Bryan wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the mirror cab
inet above the sink. The shelves looked as if none of the Shuster boys had ever left. Shaving creams, lotions, and razors, along with the yearly toothbrushes they always received from their annual dentist check-ups, filled the glass shelves his father had installed years ago. Bryan pulled out a can of shaving cream and sprayed a clump onto his palm. He lathered his face and stared at himself in the mirror.
He didn’t have the same track record as Sawyer with the townspeople. They’d watched him take far too many risks and not come out the other side. He frowned as he remembered the time he wanted a skate park and tried to work with the parks department. The night the project was to be presented to City Council, he’d been caught in Portland with a friend who needed to move out of his house as soon as possible due to some late rental payments. Bryan missed the City Council meeting. Without his presentation, the City Council defeated the park. To the town, he was still a non-committed twenty-something aimlessly playing guitar in the beach pubs.
Bryan finished getting ready in the bathroom and padded into the bedroom. He pulled on a pair of dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and a green sweater and headed downstairs to the kitchen. His stomach growled at the sight of three apple and pumpkin pies sitting on the counter. A turkey roasted in the oven and filled the kitchen with the rich deep aroma he remembered so well from previous holidays. Rebecca took another sip of her coffee. She sat at the round kitchen table. A stack of cloth napkins, unfolded, lay beside her, along with napkin rings and small paper turkeys Lauren had made in school. Across the middle of each paper turkey, the names of family members were written in Lauren’s newly learned cursive handwriting.
“Happy Thanksgiving.” Bryan stepped over to the table. He gave his Mom a light kiss on the cheek.
Sweetheart Cottage (Cranberry Bay #1) Page 13
