“Smith’s makes good pancakes,” Adam said.
“No kidding. I cleaned my plate. Vic’s daughter came up in conversation at the next table. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.” He didn’t sound particularly defensive, just stating the facts. “I understand she’s the new innkeeper in town.”
“Vic’s not here. If you give me your name, I can let him know you’re in town.”
“He won’t remember me. I should get rolling. I don’t need to take up any more of your time. Apologies for startling you. I won’t be back.” He glanced out at the lake, as if he were debating what to say next. Finally he turned back to Adam. “I know Brody Hancock and Greg Rawlings by reputation. They’re the best. Apologies for any negative impression. Have a good night.” He nodded to the firepit. “Roast some marshmallows. I used to love that as a kid.”
“A kid where?”
He grinned. “No place you’ve ever heard of.”
He started up to the house. Nothing in his manner suggested he wasn’t on the level, but “former colleague” was a vague description and his mention of Brody and Greg—two Diplomatic Security agents—was provocative. Was this guy DSS?
Adam walked up to the main house. A gray sedan was disappearing around a tree-lined curve. He didn’t get the plates. Thought that might be going overboard, anyway.
He returned to the lakefront and lit the fire. He texted Adrienne: Any visitors since I left?
Four-legged or two-legged?
He smiled at her sense of humor. She’d relaxed so much in the weeks since she’d started at Carriage Hill. Two.
No one. I’m not counting birds. Why?
One of Vic’s colleagues stopped by. Didn’t give a name. Passing through.
You don’t believe him.
Adam thought a moment before he responded. I believe him. I just think there’s more to it.
Vic being Vic.
He smiled. Yeah.
How’s the bonfire?
Just lighting it now. Join us?
It’s a guy night. I’m having cider and in my new fuzzy slippers.
It was an image. Adam texted her a snooze emoji and then grimaced at it. So much for his Sloan testosterone. But Eric and Justin arrived, and he slid his phone into his pocket. They’d parked at the main house and walked down to the lake. Adam told them about the guy. They’d seen him passing Elly O’Dunn’s farm. “It felt like he’s checking out Vic’s life here or something,” Adam said. “He didn’t say so, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s doing some kind of background check or just getting a feel for Vic’s life here.”
“Think Vic’s up to something besides writing his memoirs?” Justin asked.
“If he is, this guy wasn’t going to talk about it. I don’t know where Vic is, who’s with him, what he’s doing.”
It was enough to get Eric’s attention. “What about Adrienne?”
“I don’t think she knows, either.”
“I’ll check in with Brody.”
“Maybe I should,” Adam said. “It’s a thing if you do it.”
“Why?”
His oblivious eldest brother. “You’re a cop, Eric.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” He grinned. “You’re Vic’s—what? Friend? Soon-to-be son-in-law? Ex-friend if you mess up with his long-lost daughter?”
“Nice try. I’m a guy having a couple of beers with his brothers.”
“Don’t forget Violet,” Justin said.
“She doesn’t drink beer.”
Brandon and Christopher hopped onto the sand from the stone walk down from the main house. They’d driven together. They hadn’t run into Adam’s visitor. Whoever he was, he was a dead end for now. They moved on to other topics. “Gran interrogated me about Adrienne,” Brandon said. “She pulled me aside while we were doing the cider. She figured I’d know more because of Maggie.”
“What did she want to know?” Adam asked, keeping his tone neutral.
“It’s Gran. She wanted to know everything.”
Adam frowned. “Why?”
Brandon snorted. “Hell, Adam, like you don’t know? You brought her to our annual cider-making get-together. Gran can put two and two together. We all can.”
“She’s protective of you,” Eric added.
Justin nodded in agreement. “To her, you’re not the tough combat vet and stonemason. You’re the little boy who skinned his knee and left her here and went off to war.”
“I wasn’t a little tyke when I became a Marine.”
Justin turned to Eric, Brandon and Christopher. “Is he dense or playing us?”
“Both,” Brandon said with a grin. “Gran’s not sure about Adrienne. That’s the point.”
Adam was amused. “Gran has room to talk.”
“I have to agree with you there,” Christopher said. “Her family didn’t approve of her choice of a Knights Bridge carpenter for a husband.”
Eric held up his beer to Adam. “Not that you’re marrying Adrienne. Right, brother?”
Adam wasn’t going there. Not. A. Chance. “More beer?”
But the eldest Sloan wasn’t giving up. “You’re like our dear departed paternal grandfather. You want advice, you’ll ask for it.”
“There’s that,” Adam said.
“You and Adrienne...” Eric paused, sipped his beer as he looked out at the dark lake. “There’s such a thing as being too patient.”
“Are we talking about you now?”
“Sort of. No, not really. Hell, I don’t know. Gran asked me a while back why Trish and I didn’t set a wedding date. I dismissed her as being old-fashioned. Looking back—we didn’t set a date because we sensed something was wrong.” He turned to Adam. “Why are you waiting with Adrienne?”
“Who says I’m waiting?”
“Tell her how you feel,” Christopher said. “Put yourself out there. She could tell you to take a hike, or you could scare her into bolting.”
“It’s a risk worth taking,” Eric said.
Brandon gave an exaggerated shudder. “Listen to us. Maggie would be choking on her teeth hearing us talk emotional stuff.”
“I’m about to choke on mine,” Adam said with a grin. “I’ll just say you all shouldn’t be so sure you know what’s going on with Adrienne and me. She’s new in town. She’s here to do a job and spend time with Vic.”
Brandon held up his beer. “Falling for you wasn’t in the plan, huh?”
“She doesn’t want to screw things up.”
“She doesn’t strike me as the cautious type,” Justin said. “Don’t write a script for her.”
Adam stared at him. “A script?”
“Yeah. Decide what she’s thinking and planning without asking her.” He took a sip of his beer and winked. “I got that from Samantha. I didn’t come up with it on my own.”
Adam sighed, shaking his head. “You guys are getting way, way ahead of yourselves.”
His brothers, however, clearly didn’t doubt themselves even slightly.
“I jumped in too soon with Ruby but it wouldn’t have mattered,” Christopher said. “I wasn’t going to get between her and what she wants. She’s got a good job in Hollywood. I’m not moving out there and she’s not moving back here. But even if I did or she did, it wouldn’t have worked. Just as well—one O’Dunn in the family is plenty.”
Brandon clapped a hand on his youngest brother’s shoulder. “You got that right.”
“Maggie’s the best, Brandon,” Christopher said. “You’re a lucky man.”
“Yeah. Most days. The days she tries new mushroom recipes on me, not so much.”
By the time his brothers left, it was too late for Adam to call Brody without it being a thing, and he was hesitant to send an email or a text for the same reason. Vic had a forty-year career behind him. He knew a lot of people. Adam de
bated getting in touch with him about the “former colleague,” but Vic hadn’t been in communication much. He didn’t want to turn nothing into something with him, either.
He’d wait.
Having decided, he thought about his brothers and their comments about his relationship with Adrienne. They’d only been half teasing. Was he writing a script for her, as Justin had said, never mind he’d quoted Samantha? Avoiding risk with her? Patience was one thing. But was he lying to himself? Telling himself he was holding back because she wasn’t ready when he was the one who wasn’t ready? Not because he didn’t want to make love to her. He did. Anytime, anywhere. He convinced himself he was biding his time, not rushing her. New job, new town, new father, new life. She needed a chance to get her feet under her before adding a relationship to the mix. She didn’t want to mess up his life, but he didn’t want to mess up hers, either.
Yet...as he and Violet put out the last of the fire and walked up to the guesthouse, he felt a wave of emotion that was so strong it nearly knocked him over. He wasn’t an emotional guy. He looked at life the way he looked at a masonry project. He’d figure out what he needed to do, what he needed to fit together, to complete the project so that it was sturdy and lasting, and he’d get on with it.
He let Violet into the house and stood at the windows, looking out at the stars sparkling on the lake. “Adrienne isn’t a rock wall,” he said, half joking, half serious.
And he realized he’d never felt so certain, so confident about her—about what they could have together, be together. No way did he want to screw that up. At the same time, he didn’t want to jump in too late, either. He wasn’t going to let his past dictate his actions now.
He rubbed Violet’s belly. Because of his past, he’d nursed a sick golden retriever puppy back to health and he’d had her at his side as he’d transitioned from military life back to his hometown. It was a positive that had been made possible by a crushing setback.
He knew to his core that he and Adrienne were right for each other.
She had a role in what happened next, too.
He heated a mug of cider and stretched out on the couch by the woodstove. He ended up falling asleep there. When he woke up to the early-morning sun in his eyes, he made coffee and called Brody Hancock in London, on the DSS agent’s cell phone.
“No one’s hurt or died,” Adam said when Brody answered.
“Well, that’s good. What’s up?”
Adam told him about his visitor. Brody listened without interruption. He and Heather would be back in their hometown for the Thanksgiving weekend nuptials of Greg Rawlings and Charlotte Bennett. They wanted their wedding to take place at Red Clover Inn. They didn’t care if it’d been stripped down to the studs by then, but Adam knew there was zero chance the renovations would be that far along—even if Eric kept up with his crowbar.
“I know this guy,” Brody said once Adam finished.
“Is it news to you that he was here?”
“Yeah. It’s news. He’s legit, though. He’s not a threat.” Even so, Brody didn’t sound happy about him showing up in Knights Bridge. “Thanks for letting me know.”
It was as far as he was willing to go. Adam didn’t object. He knew it wouldn’t do any good to press Brody for more information. But what the hell was Vic up to? He had to be scoping out—or getting scoped out himself—for a new assignment. That made more sense than any other explanation Adam could think up. “You’ll tell me if I need to watch out for things here?” he asked his brother-in-law.
Brody promised he would. “How’s your grandmother doing?” he asked, changing the subject. “Will she be okay to fly back to London with us after Thanksgiving?”
“She says she’s up to the trip. She told Eric if she’s going to die on the plane, she wants it to be on her way home not on her way to London.”
“That sounds like her. I went to her nursery school, you know.”
“We all did,” Adam said dryly. “Will this guy—Vic’s ‘colleague’—want to talk to anyone else in town?”
“You mean like Evelyn? No. Trust me on that, Adam. No. I bet he left town after talking to you.”
Bet or knew? Adam didn’t ask. No point since Brody wasn’t going to tell him.
“See you soon, Adam. Thanks for getting in touch. Heather’s out for a walk or I’d put her on with you.”
“No problem.”
After they disconnected, Adam got Violet up for her morning walk. He’d worked with enough diplomatic security types during his time in the military to recognize Brody’s brush-off for what it was, but he wasn’t offended. Brody had a job to do.
And Vic?
Well, that could get interesting, couldn’t it?
* * *
Adam finished work early and stopped at Carriage Hill with his camera and assorted lenses. Adrienne was raking leaves in the front yard. She asked him about his visitor last night. He told her about his call with Brody but left out his suspicions. He motioned back toward his truck. “I’m taking more photos for Olivia for her website. She wants shots of the old stone bridge out by my folks’ place, and a few shot here.”
“I think I know the one you mean.”
“You can join me, but I don’t want to interrupt your raking.”
“Interrupt it. Please.” She leaned the rake against the handrail to the steps. “I have discovered I actually like to rake leaves—for five minutes. One second longer and I start to get blisters and get bored.”
“Gloves and earbuds help.”
She grinned at him. “So practical. I’ll buy gloves. I like to hear what’s rustling in the woods. I don’t want to be listening to Beethoven and look up and I’m face-to-face with our bull moose.”
Who hadn’t been sighted in weeks. “Beethoven?”
“Probably not the best to rake leaves to. Do I need boots or anything for the bridge?”
He picked an orange-colored leaf from her hair. “You’re fine just as you are.”
She climbed into the passenger seat with an ease and comfort she hadn’t had at first, with his truck or his work van. The bridge was a short drive out Carriage Hill Road, on a narrow stretch of road below the Sloan farmhouse. He parked under an oak tree, with deep burgundy-colored leaves still on its branches.
They took a dirt trail down a steep, short hill to one side of the arched stone bridge that spanned rock-strewn brook Cider Brook. On its winding route to the reservoir, it passed the old, abandoned cider mill where Justin and Samantha had met when it caught fire in a fierce thunderstorm. She’d slipped into town to follow the brook in her search for pirate treasure.
“Never a dull moment for you Sloans, is there?” Adrienne asked, kicking through fallen leaves to a flat stone on the edge of the brook.
Adam smiled. “This from a Scarlatti.”
She looked sideways at him, her dark eyes shining in the dappled light. She returned his smile. “Good point. What do Sam and Justin plan to do with the cider mill?”
“They’re talking about converting it into a house. They toyed with the idea of living at Red Clover Inn after it’s renovated. Samantha fantasized about being a live-in innkeeper. Justin was never keen on the idea.”
“Not a surprise,” Adrienne said.
“Imagine guests wandering down for breakfast and finding him in the kitchen. He wouldn’t be comfortable there. He and Samantha both know that. Ava and Ruby O’Dunn have talked about starting a children’s theater in town and considered the cider mill. Then Ruby went off to California. Ava is interested in rural development through the arts. Maybe she’ll figure out something in Knights Bridge.”
“This town’s filled with possibilities, isn’t it?” She looked up at the stone bridge. “I like the mix of old and new. It’s easy to think nothing happens here, but these days I’m starting to think everything happens here. Babies, weddings, new ventures—a retir
ed diplomat with secrets.” She shifted back to Adam. “Red Clover Inn will be a fantastic addition to the town.”
“If you have any suggestions for it, speak up.”
“I’m hardly an expert.”
“You’ve gained valuable experience since you started at Carriage Hill,” Adam said, easing his camera off his shoulder. “Why didn’t you last at the winery?”
She shrugged, watching him as he checked the light. It was decent. Not great, but it’d work. “I loved my time at the winery and appreciated the opportunity. It helped me in my work here. It always felt temporary. I didn’t leave anyone in the lurch, and I didn’t get fired—I just seized the moment to be here.”
“To spend time with Vic. But there was no incident that triggered your departure from the winery?”
“Like what?”
He snapped a test shot of the old stonework. “A failed love affair, personality conflicts, stung by bees?”
Adrienne shook her head. “There was a man on the staff who was better suited to my job. Noah and Phoebe needed me to get in there and sort things out. I love wine. I love learning about it, sharing what I know. That doesn’t mean, I’ve discovered, that I love the wine business.”
“Innkeeping is different?”
“Innkeeping in Knights Bridge is different. Vic’s here, yes, but he hasn’t been around much since I started at Carriage Hill. Vic doesn’t have deep roots here the way the Sloans and the O’Dunns and the Frosts and—well, a lot of families do. My mother couldn’t wait to get away from her roots. My dad hasn’t been a big part of my life since he and my mother divorced. I was seven. We get along okay, though.”
“And Vic?”
She scooped up two freshly-fallen maple leaves. “I wanted to hate Vic for abandoning my mother, not being a part of my life, but that’s not what happened. We’re feeling our way but we do well together. It’s as if he’s been there all along and I just needed to tear through the gauze between us. Maybe that’s my mother’s doing in her own cryptic way.” She tossed the leaves into the brook and watched as the current took them. “I wanted to come back here, Adam. Vic or no Vic.”
Stone Bridges Page 24
