The Stranger in Her Bed

by Janet Chapman

  He finally spotted her and headed toward the cabin. Charlie and his gang intercepted him. Startled, the man began waving his arms at the marauders, ducking his head inside his coat collar. Anna sat down on the snow-covered roof with a chuckle and watched the poor guy start running toward her. Just then Bear, having finally noticed they had company, stood up from the porch below and started barking, sounding quite pitiful as he rushed at the man. The guy stopped dead in his tracks and went stone still.

  "He won't hurt you," Anna hollered down over the chirping birds and barking dog. "Neither will the chickadees. They're just hungry."

  "Is the dog hungry?"

  "No. He's just glad to see you."

  "I'm Frank Coots, your absentee neighbor."

  "Oh. That name sounds familiar," she said, sliding closer to the eave of the roof. "Doesn't your daddy own Kent Mountain?"

  "I own it now," he said with a nod. "They told me in town that an Anna Segee was living here. You her?"

  Anna nodded.

  "Any relation to Segee Logging and Lumber in Quebec?"

  She nodded again.

  "You have something against white snow?" he asked, motioning at the roof she was sitting on.

  Anna looked down and burst into laughter. The snow was more black than white. She looked at herself and found that she was even dirtier. She wiped the hair out of her face and grinned at the man standing below her. "I'm cleaning the chimney."

  He gazed around the camp with a frown. "Alone?" he asked, looking back up at her.

  "Just me and the chickadees. I'm trying to figure out how to get one of them to fly down the pipe with a rag in its beak."

  He didn't smile; in fact, his frown deepened. "You shouldn't be up on the roof when no one's around."

  Anna ignored his concern. "Are you going to sell your mountain to the developers?" she asked, standing to brush off her pants.

  He seemed caught off guard by her question. Instead of answering her, Frank took another swipe at Charlie dive-bombing his pocket. Anna returned to cleaning the chimney by running the brush down the pipe, scrubbing it up and down the inside several times before replacing the cap. Then she walked to the back of the cabin and jumped into a snowdrift, landing in the soft powder up to her waist.

  She smiled when Frank came running around the building. "Well? Are you selling?" she asked as she wiggled back and forth to get unstuck.

  "Lady, you're crazy. There could have been something solid under that snow."

  "'Cause if you are, you can just take your butt back out of here. We don't need another resort around here." She grabbed his offered hand and pulled herself free. "Personally, I like the mountain just as it is."

  He stepped away, rubbing his dirty hands in the snow, and Anna studied him. Frank Coots was handsome; not too tall, with blond hair cut in a modern style, eyes the color of pine needles in winter, and the face of a cherub. He could stand to lose about thirty pounds.

  "You want to buy it instead?" he asked when he straightened.

  Anna snorted. "I can't afford the taxes on this place. I'd hate to guess what they are for the mountain, much less what your asking price would be."

  "There's three thousand acres," he told her. "All old growth. You could sell timber to pay the taxes."

  She started walking toward her house. "That's true. But the grade's steep, and most of it probably isn't cuttable. There would be erosion control and reseeding costs, not to mention the roads that would have to be built."

  "I guess you do know the timber business."

  "I know something about it. Where you living now, Frank?"

  "Boston. I'm in advertising."

  She walked up on the porch, opened the door, and entered the house ahead of him. "So what are you doing here?"

  "You get right to the point, don't you?" He started to close the door behind them, but several chickadees flew through the doorway. "Hey! What are they doing?"

  "I feed them in the house. They sleep in here, too, when it's stormy."

  Coots looked blank, and Anna decided he didn't have much of a sense of humor. "Well? Are you moving back to Maine, or just up here long enough to sell your mountain?"

  "Just visiting. The pace in Boston is killing me."

  She laughed. "The pace around here is just as liable to kill you with boredom."

  "Will you have dinner with me tonight?"

  It was Anna's turn to be caught off guard. "Dinner?"

  Frank's cherub face lit with humor. "Assuming you clean up okay," he added, motioning at her sooty clothes and face.

  Anna looked down at herself. Maybe he did have a sense of humor, considering she looked like the inside of a vacuum cleaner bag. Only now the snow was melting, turning the dust to mud. She wiped her cheeks with her gloves.

  "What happened to your face? Did you fall?" he asked, reaching out to touch her cheek.

  Anna backed up and spun around. "I rolled a loader at work yesterday." She turned on the faucet at the kitchen sink and started splashing her face, watching the water run black down the drain. She grabbed a towel and wiped herself dry as she turned to face her guest. "I thank you for your offer of dinner, but I've got too many chores." She motioned toward her bruised jaw. "And I'm not presentable for public dining."

  He waved her excuses away. "Makeup will cover that, and I'll help you finish your chores," he offered.

  The only problem was, she didn't own any makeup. "That's sweet of you, but I'll take a rain check and give you a piece of pie instead."

  Frank looked sincerely surprised by her refusal— as well as a bit angry. She picked up the kettle and started to fill it with water.

  "I'll have to take a rain check as well," he said, putting on his gloves. "I'll call back again when you're less busy."

  She set the kettle on the cold burner. "Okay."

  "Who are you renting the cabin to?"

  "One of the workers at Loon Cove Lumber," she told him. "He needs a temporary place to stay."

  "When's he moving in?"

  Frank Coots was a rather nosy neighbor. "In a couple of weeks."

  "Well, that'll be nice. You shouldn't be staying way out here all by yourself."

  Great, another man who didn't think she was capable of taking care of herself. Anna headed to the living room. "I'm glad you stopped by and introduced yourself. And I hope you enjoy your vacation. How long are you staying?"

  He shrugged one shoulder. "I haven't decided."

  "Just long enough to sell Kent Mountain?"

  He stepped onto the porch and turned to face her. "How about your father? Would Segee Logging and Lumber be interested in buying Kent Mountain?"

  Anna shook her head with a laugh. "Not unless you can move it over the border to Canada."

  He lifted a brow. "What happened to the old guy who used to own this place?"

  "He died three months ago."

  "Oh. Did you buy it from his daughter? He had a daughter named Madeline, didn't he?" Frank's eyes suddenly widened. "You didn't buy the mill to restore, did you?" he asked, scanning the decaying buildings before leveling his gaze back on her.

  "I haven't decided what I'm going to do with it," she said, giving him back his earlier words. "Right now my only focus is paying the taxes."

  His gaze sharpened. "You got stuck with back taxes?"

  The man was getting far too interested in her plans and problems. Anna stepped back into the house. "Nothing a phone call to Quebec won't fix. It was nice meeting you, Frank."

  He clearly didn't like being dismissed. Anna closed the door on his disgruntled face, leaned against the doorjamb, and asked for forgiveness for her little fib.

  If only it were that easy. Her father had told her, in the plainest words he could find, that she was on her own if she insisted on moving back to Fox Run Mill.She hadn't lied when she'd told Frank that her father wanted nothing to do with Maine.

  Anna waited until she heard him leave before she ventured back to the old cabin, newspaper and kindling in hand, to f
inish the job she'd started. Why had he come here, and what had he hoped to learn? He hadn't answered her question as to whether or not he intended to sell to the developers. In fact, he'd sidestepped it quite nicely by asking her to dinner.

  But something about him had made her say no. She didn't trust him. Maybe it was his slick city looks, or the fact that he smiled too easily, or maybe it was that little flash of anger that had crossed his face when she'd also eluded his questions. Then again, maybe it was because he didn't like her chickadees.

  Whatever, she intended to treat Frank the same way she was treating all her problem visitors— by ignoring every damn last one of them until they gave up and left her alone. So she spent the rest of Friday, Saturday, and all of Sunday making the cabin rentable with furniture from the main house.

  Three weeks to her first rent check, and she'd finally be able to put enough money down on Fox Run's taxes to keep it from being foreclosed on by the town. If she wasn't so determined to prove that she didn't need her family's backing, she wouldn't have to put up with a tenant, developers, historians, or pesky ghosts. Though stubbornness could sometimes be a handicap, it could also be as powerful a motivator as guilt.

  Chapter Four

  Is it true, boss? Is Tom really selling the mill?"

  Anna sat on the stack of rough-cut boards waiting to be taken to the planer shed and opened her thermos. "As we speak," she told the obviously worried men taking their morning break. "He's in Greenville signing the papers right now."

  Several more men joined the somber crew. Word had traveled fast. The rumor had broken this morning, likely by Tom Bishop himself, who had known the men would be looking to Anna for answers.

  Loon Cove Lumber was Tom's creation, and he'd run it for nearly forty-five years. Now, though, he couldn't bring himself to tell his men he was selling, so he'd started a rumor instead. Anna looked down at her shoulders, wondering if they were wide enough for thirty grown men to cry on.

  "It could be worse," she told them. "Most of the mills around here have shut down for one reason or another, but Tom was able to sell Loon Cove because it's still making money. Your jobs are safe— and that's what really matters."

  "Who's buying it?"

  "I don't know. But Tom said they're locals. That's in our favor."

  "Locals?" Keith repeated. "Maybe it's Clay Porter. I heard talk in town he was trying to drum up capital for something."

  Several men groaned. "Hell. Not Porter," one of them said. "He's a logger, and doesn't know anything about running a mill. He'll come charging in here and change everything."

  "He'll fire some of us," another said.

  Anna shook her head as she swallowed her tea. "He can't. Tom made provisions that no one gets fired for one year."

  "He can do that?"

  "Yup," she assured them. "That's common practice when small, family-run businesses change hands. The seller can stipulate that no one loses his or her job as a result of the purchase."

  Keith suddenly smiled at her. "Does that mean you can't fire anyone for a year, boss lady?"

  "No. Just like the guy who stepped in front of the loader last month, you screw up and you're out of here."

  The men quietly ate their snacks and drank their coffee while they mulled over the news. Anna scanned their worried faces. They were good men, every one of them, hard workers, family men, decent folks. Though she'd only been here four months, they were her friends.

  Her first few weeks here had been almost comical. Several of the men had needed to adjust their mind-set about taking orders from a woman who, in some cases, was younger than their own daughters. But Anna had proven herself by calmly and patiently showing them that she knew timber and sawing and that she wasn't a threat to either their livelihood or manhood. She'd built a good working relationship, as well as friendships, with most of them.

  "Oh, come on, guys," she admonished, poking Keith with her elbow. "This could be an excellent move for Loon Cove Lumber: new blood, new capital, new ideas. We're likely to grow in the next few years and become a force to be reckoned with in this industry."

  Keith rubbed his ribs and frowned. "I'm just trying to figure out who has that kind of money around here." He shook his head. "Nobody local that I can think of."

  "Well, we're about to find out," she said, nodding toward the front gate. "Here they come."

  All eyes turned to the outer parking lot and watched as Tom drove his truck into his usual space. A blue SUV parked beside him, and all four doors opened. It was quickly followed by a red pickup with two men inside.

  Anna groaned. "Oh God. Kids." She looked at her crew. "No one starts any equipment until they're gone. Got that?"

  Every man present nodded. Most of them had kids of their own, and they knew that young people and machinery were a dangerous combination. Two children jumped out of the SUV and immediately headed for the gates. They were chased by a woman who, even from this distance, Anna could see was beautiful, and every man in her crew suddenly perked up.

  An older gentleman got out behind the children and made his way over to Tom. Another man, tall and dark haired, waited for the two men to get out of the red pickup.

  "Well, hell," Keith said, jumping up as he gaped at the group walking through the gate with Tom Bishop. He turned and looked down at Anna with a crooked smile. "I'm thinking you're in trouble, boss lady. Recognize that guy in the middle?"

  Anna sat stock-still as Ethan Knight walked through the gate beside her used-to-be boss and friend. She suddenly felt every eye of her crew on her. Anna snapped the cover down on her thermos and stuffed her half-eaten donut back in its bag. "Come on, people. We don't want them to think we're slackers. Let's get back to work."

  "What about the kids?" Keith asked.

  Anna stopped. "Okay. Put everyone to work on anything that doesn't have an engine." She waved at the yard. "Shovel the snow off the storage shed roof. Grease the machines and catch up on the maintenance. The saws are shut down as of now, until I tell you to start them again."

  Grinning like a fool, Keith crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her. "And what will you be doing?"

  She walked up and shoved her thermos and lunch bag at his stomach. "I'm going to greet our new owners," she told him sweetly through gritted teeth. She pivoted around, squared her shoulders, and headed for the group of people standing outside the office.

  * * *

  It had been all he could do to contain himself these last few weeks waiting for exactly this moment. Ethan stood beside his father and brothers and watched Anna Segee walk up to Tom Bishop, her stride determined, her smile forced.

  Ethan grinned to himself. As of one hour ago, he'd become her boss.

  Ethan had known the minute she had recognized him; he'd seen her entire body stiffen just as she was about to take a drink from her thermos. All the men had turned to her, to see her reaction.

  He had to give her credit, she'd kept a cool head. But he'd bet their newly purchased mill that the lady was cursing a blue streak under her smile as Tom Bishop introduced her to Grady.

  She came up to his father's nose, which made her tall for a woman. Her hard hat was tucked under her arm, and her hair hung down her back in a braid as thick as a man's wrist. It was light brown, with highlights in it that Ethan knew hadn't come from a bottle. Several strands had worked free and were framing her decidedly young face.

  Ethan quickly changed his earlier estimate that she couldn't be a day over twenty-two. Hell, she looked young enough to still be in high school, though he knew that was impossible. It was strange enough that Bishop's crew took orders from a woman, and even stranger still that they seemed to respect her.

  She'd washed her jacket, and her boots had been polished. Ethan's grin broadened. She'd obviously put her best foot forward for the new owners of Loon Cove Lumber. Which meant that Bishop had kept his word and hadn't told a soul who was purchasing his mill, not even his foreman.

  Would Anna Segee have been so eager if she had known
?

  And did she realize who she had agreed to rent her cabin to?

  Lord, this was going to be fun.

  "Why are the saws stopped?" Tom asked, apparently just now realizing how silent the mill was.

  A tinge of color appeared in Anna's cheeks as she glanced at Delaney and Tucker and then back at Tom. "I thought this would make a good maintenance day."

  Tom gave her a quizzical look, and Ethan knew she was lying. She darted another glance at the children, and Ethan realized Delaney and Tucker were the reason the mill had been shut down. Anna Segee had already proven herself a safety tyrant, and she wasn't about to take any chances with the children of the new owners. Nor did she want to blame them for bringing thirty men to a standstill.