The Lakeside Inn
Page 2
Her grandmother’s wistful smile touched something deep in Penny’s heart.
“I love that house. Your granddad and I moved there with such high hopes for a happy retirement, but it wasn’t meant to be.”
Four years after her grandparents bought the large, two-story property overlooking Flathead Lake, Penny’s granddad had died. “Mom and Dad have been looking after it for you.”
“It’s not the same as living there. When I die, I want you and your sisters to inherit the house.”
Penny’s eyes widened. “Mom and Dad—”
“I’ve already spoken to them. They’re happy living above the general store. When the time is right, there’s more than enough money in my estate for them to buy another house. I think you girls will enjoy living beside the lake. It’s special.”
She didn’t want to upset her grandma, but she’d forgotten that her granddaughters had jobs, friends, and careers hundreds of miles away from Sapphire Bay. From what her sisters had said, moving home was the last thing they wanted to do.
“Your granddad and I used to sit in the lovely oval sunroom and watch the sun set over the water. It’s such a peaceful location.” Betty’s blue gaze connected with Penny’s. “Look after your sisters. Diana is as fragile as a piece of fine china. Barbara needs to relax. She doesn’t realize there’s more to life than getting people to spend money on things they don’t need. The lake will be good for her.”
Penny held back a smile. Barbara was the social media marketing manager for five of the largest companies in America.
“And watch Katie. She’s a dreamer—always flitting from one idea to the next. She needs to work out what she wants and how she’ll get there. Tell her from me that a little planning goes a long way in life.”
“Katie will be here tomorrow,” Penny said softly.
A sadness swept across her grandma’s face. “I might not be here, honey. Remember to tell your sisters to stick together. Life will throw hurdles and challenges at them. Goodness knows, Diana has already had her world tested. Look out for each other. Treat your sisters like they’re the most precious gifts the good Lord has given you.”
Penny wiped her eyes, wishing more than anything they weren’t having this conversation.
Her grandma’s hand tightened on hers. “Before I go, I want you to promise you’ll do something for me.” She waited for Penny to nod before continuing. “I never knew my father. Momma always said he’d drowned when the steamboat he was on hit troubled waters. But no one found his body or talked about him after he was gone. Over the years, I’ve tried to piece together what happened, but nothing makes sense.”
Betty winced and reached for the button on her morphine drip.
“Are you okay?”
“I will be in a few seconds.” Her grandma closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “There’s a chest in the attic. Look in there and see if you can figure out what happened to my father.”
“Has Mom looked for him?”
Her grandma nodded. “Mabel loves a good story as much as I do, but she was just as confused. Ask your mom about what she found.”
Penny was getting really worried about her grandma. The morphine looked as though it hadn’t helped the pain. “Do you want me to get a doctor?”
“Not yet. There’s one more thing. In the chest, there’s a small enamel box with a key inside. Momma always said as long as I have that, I’ll never need anything else. I wasn’t able to work out what the key unlocked. Keep it safe.”
Her grandma’s eyelids closed, then slowly opened. She sent Penny a tired smile. “Be happy, honey. I’m so proud of you.”
“I love you, Grandma.”
“Love you, too.”
Before Penny could push the emergency button, her grandma took one last shuddering breath. And with the same dignity and grace with which she’d lived her life, she began her next journey.
Wyatt stood in the foyer of The Welcome Center. For such a small town, Sapphire Bay had great community facilities.
The sprawling building he’d just visited had two accommodation wings, shared living and dining rooms, and a large commercial kitchen. There was a range of meeting rooms of different sizes, and plenty of storage.
The Welcome Center was also right beside The Connect Church. But the best thing was its proximity to the tiny home village. On the far side of the parking lot, twenty-five tiny homes had been built off-site and moved onto a large parcel of land. Each pod of eight homes had a larger communal activity and kitchen facility. As the homes were built, the residents had formed separate groups. The amount of social interaction between each pod of homes was minimal. Ethan wanted that to change.
Basing the art project in The Welcome Center and the village might be enough to encourage people to work together and break down the barriers they’d created.
Ethan handed Wyatt a sheet of paper. “Here’s a list of the regular bookings for the meeting rooms. If you want to use the large one, the only day it’s consistently available is Wednesday.”
“The day of the week doesn’t worry me. Is there anything else on Wednesdays that people from the village might go to?”
“Not that I’m aware of. The best person to ask would be Mabel Terry, but she isn’t here at the moment. I could ask one of the other volunteers from The Welcome Center.”
“I can do that before we leave.”
A young woman walked into the foyer and smiled at Ethan. “It’s good to see you. Thanks for all the help you gave us last Friday.”
Ethan smiled. “It was no trouble.” He turned to Wyatt. “Andrea, this is my friend, Wyatt Johnson. He’s an artist and moved to Sapphire Bay a few weeks ago.”
Andrea held out her hand. “It’s good to meet you. I work part time with Shelley, the Center’s accountant. My boys and I stayed at The Welcome Center for a few months when we first moved here. If you ever need any help with anything, just ask. When I’m not working with Shelley, I volunteer behind the reception counter.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Wyatt replied.
“Has anyone heard from Mabel?” Ethan asked.
Andrea shook her head. “No one knows how her mom is. We’re waiting for Pastor John to give us an update. But I do have some good news. Sam had her baby. It’s a little girl.”
Some of the weight seemed to lift from Ethan’s shoulders. “That’s wonderful.”
“I thought so, too.” Andrea checked her watch. “I’ll leave you to whatever you’re doing. I need to prepare two rooms for some new guests. It was nice meeting you, Wyatt.”
“Same here.” After Andrea left, the smile on his face faded. “Why is everyone so friendly?”
Ethan laughed. “It can be a bit of a culture shock, but it’s just the way everyone is. Most people are super friendly and willing to help with whatever needs doing.”
“Doesn’t that seem a little strange to you?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.” Ethan pulled out his cell phone. “Talking about helping, Zac’s busy with the free community health checks at the moment. Would you mind if I dropped in to see if he needs me for anything?”
“That’s fine by me. I want to have another look at the walls you want us to paint, anyway. Does meeting back here in twenty minutes suit you?”
“It sounds good. I’ll see you soon.”
With Ethan on his way to see Zac, Wyatt walked out of the center and headed toward the large concrete garages sitting between the church and the tiny homes. The art project would create an opportunity for the residents of the tiny home village to paint large murals on the outside of the garage walls. At the moment, all the residents saw were gray, concrete blocks.
The idea behind the project was to encourage people to take ownership of the tiny home village and feel as though it was their home. It would also brighten the dull boundary between the buildings.
With his tape measure and cell phone in his hands, he took some photos and added the dimensions of the garages to the images.
“What are you doing?”
Wyatt looked over his shoulder, then down at the red-headed boy standing behind him. He couldn’t have been more than six or seven years old. “I’m working out how long and high the walls are.”
“Why?”
“We might paint pictures on them.”
The little boy’s face broke into a grin. “I like painting. Could I help?”
Wyatt searched the properties for the boy’s parents. It wasn’t safe for him to be out here, talking to a complete stranger. “If it goes ahead, you can.”
“What’s your name?”
“Wyatt.”
“I’ve got a friend called Wyatt. But he’s not as big as you.”
That didn’t surprise him. Regardless of having the same name as the little boy’s friend, he needed to bring this conversation to an end. “It was nice meeting you. I might see you another day.” He walked away, but the boy followed him.
“You didn’t ask me my name. How will you let me know about the painting if you don’t know who I am?”
Wyatt frowned. “Where are your parents?”
A frown wiped away the little boy’s curiosity. “Dad’s sleeping. My mom didn’t come to Sapphire Bay with us. She lives somewhere else.”
Seeing the sadness in the little boy’s face made Wyatt wish he hadn’t asked about his parents. “Why aren’t you in school?”
“Mrs. Beattie had some other stuff she needed to do. I like painting clouds and the sun. My name is Jack. Jack Richard Dawkins. Richard is my dad’s name, but I don’t call him that. I call him Dad.”
A man in a wheelchair came toward them. “Who are you talking to, Jack?”
The little boy turned and smiled. “Dad, this is Wyatt. He’s going to paint pictures on the walls and he said I can help.”
Not without reason, the man who was about Wyatt’s age, frowned. Before he jumped to conclusions, Wyatt wanted to let him know why he was here. “Ethan asked me to organize an art project for the residents of the tiny home village. If everything works out, we’ll paint the walls of these garages.”
The man’s gaze studied the three, concrete block walls. “When will you start?”
“In a couple of weeks.”
Apart from his frown deepening, the man kept his thoughts to himself. “Good luck. Come on, Jack. We have to get ready to go out.”
Jack didn’t look too eager to go with his father. “Okay. But can I help with the painting?”
“We’ll see.” Jack’s dad rolled his wheelchair around.
“We live in house number eighteen,” Jack said quickly. “It’s beside the big green building over there.” Pointing across the property, Jack did his best to give him directions.
“Thanks. I’ll remember.” The relieved smile on Jack’s face made Wyatt wonder what was going on in the little guy’s life.
“See you later.” With a worried glance, Jack hurried after his dad.
By the time they’d disappeared from view, three more people were heading toward Wyatt. Hopefully, there was just as much interest in the project after they officially launched it.
But before that happened, he needed to find out if any large community events happened on Wednesdays, and talk to the other local artist who was already running art workshops.
Chapter 2
Penny stood in a daze as Pastor John prayed with them. He’d arrived in her grandma’s hospital room with her mom a few minutes ago.
With infinite care, he placed the palm of his hand on her grandma’s forehead and bowed his head. His words echoed off the walls, filled the room with hope, love, and gratefulness for a life that was as precious as the stars shining in the sky.
Her sisters would be devastated they weren’t here. Even now, Penny couldn’t believe her grandma was gone. Her last shuddering breath had taken her far from where her body lay, resting peacefully beneath the pale bed linens and fluorescent hospital lights.
With tear-filled eyes, her dad held out his hand and pulled Penny into a hug. “Are you all right?”
She nodded and, for a moment, let her head rest against her dad’s. A single tear fell from her eyes as she reached for his hand. She could wait until later, until after everyone had said goodbye, before she released the heartbreaking grief weighing her down.
Her mom’s soft sobs were muffled by the tissues in her hand.
“I’ll be okay,” Penny whispered. “Look after Mom.”
While her dad comforted her mom, Pastor John stood beside Penny. A month ago, he’d sat in a different room with them, planning what would happen after her grandma died.
Even during that conversation, her grandma hadn’t flinched from the reality of what was happening. She told them her wishes, what was important to her, and what wasn’t. Everything was documented and added to her will. No one, including Penny, thought the end would come so soon or so quickly.
“I’m glad you could make it home before your grandma died.”
Penny sent Pastor John a sad smile. “So am I. Diana will be here in a few hours. Do you think she’ll be able to see Grandma right away?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll ask the funeral director and let you know. He shouldn’t be too far away.”
She wiped her eyes. “I’ll get my parents something to eat and drink. They’ve been here a lot longer than I have.”
“Would you like me to do that?”
Penny shook her head. “I can do it.” She needed to get away, find some kind of normal in a world that had suddenly tipped on its side and left her reeling.
Before she left, John placed his hand on her arm. “It’s okay to let go.”
“I know. I’ll be back soon.” And with one last look at her grandma, she left the room.
Three days later, Wyatt held a cup of coffee in his hands and studied the portrait he was painting. It was coming together better than he’d expected. He still had a lot of work to do, but the balance of light and shadow was already adding another dimension to the story behind the faces.
When Ethan suggested coming to Sapphire Bay, Wyatt had searched the Internet, trying to discover why his friend enjoyed living in the small Montana town. Sure, it had an incredible lake, stunning scenery, and some of the best fly-fishing in the state, but that wouldn’t be enough to keep his friend here.
Then he’d read about the tiny home village, the fundraising events the church organized, and the candy store on Main Street. Those things were more than enough to attract Ethan, but what intrigued Wyatt was the town’s history.
In the nineteenth century, steamboats had crossed the lake, taking people and cargo to undiscovered territory. There was something about the early settlers’ stories that appealed to him. In searching for a better life for themselves and their families, they’d left behind everything that was familiar. In a lot of ways, that’s what he was doing, too.
After he arrived in Sapphire Bay, he started looking for inspiration for a new series of paintings. While he was visiting Polson, he found a photo of a woman and her child. There was strength and humor, with a purpose so strong and sure reflected in their faces. Their personalities captured his imagination, inspiring him more than anything else he’d found.
He hoped this portrait would tell a story about what it was like to start a new life. To risk everything for a chance at happiness.
A knock on the studio’s open glass doors made him turn around. It was Ethan. “Weren’t you going to Bigfork?”
“Change of plans. Mabel’s mom’s funeral is today. Do you want to come?”
Wyatt placed his cup of coffee on the table. Since Anya, his wife, had died, he hadn’t gone to any funerals. It brought back memories he’d sooner forget. “I’ll pass, but I’ll visit Mabel next week and give her my condolences. She was the first friendly face I saw when I arrived in Sapphire Bay.”
“That’s Mabel for you.” Ethan nodded toward the painting. “How’s it going?”
“Better than I thought. It won’t win any art awards but, as far as
portraits go, it isn’t too bad.”
“I’m not an expert, but it looks incredible.”
“Even though they aren’t alive?” Wyatt smiled at his friend. They’d disagreed almost immediately about who he should paint. Ethan argued that the whole point of a portrait was to capture the essence of the person. If they’d died and Wyatt didn’t know them, there was no way he would know what they were like or what was important to them.
Ethan shrugged. “I take back my misgivings, but I expect a full report on who they were.”
“That might be a little difficult.”
“Don’t tell me they never existed?”
Wyatt crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Of course, they did. But all I know about them is their first names. A lady at the Polson Museum showed me their photo. Apart from that, I don’t know why they were in Polson or what they did while they were in Montana.”
Ethan shook his head. “How do you make them appear so lifelike if you know nothing about them?”
“I have a good imagination.” Wyatt had a feeling it was more than that. He felt an odd connection to Margaret and her young daughter. Some days, the pull of their personalities was so strong he could have been painting someone he knew instead of two people who’d died many years ago.
“I spoke to Pastor John this morning,” Ethan said. “I’ve made another appointment for us to speak to him about the community art project.”
“Has he seen the latest project plan?”
“He reviewed the original one a couple of weeks ago and liked what he saw. The adjustments we made are minor and shouldn’t cause any issues.”
“If he gives us the green light, I’ll need a few weeks to get everything ready.”
“That won’t be a problem. It might give you time to finish your paintings.”
Wyatt hoped so. The opening day of his exhibition in Berlin was getting closer. “What time are we meeting Pastor John?”
“Two o’clock on Friday at The Connect Church. Is that okay?”
Wyatt picked up a pen and made a note in his daily planner. “I’ll be there.”