Secrets and Solace

by Jana Richards

  She threw up her hands. “Why do you have to be so pig-headed?” Cam saw her glance toward his crew, but fortunately, with the noise of the excavator, they hadn’t heard their exchange. She lowered her voice. “Why do you hate my sister so much?”

  “I don’t hate her.”

  “Is it the money? Because I’m telling you, she loves Ethan in spite of the money.”

  “Money like that brings out the crazy in people.”

  “My sister is not crazy. She was in love with Ethan before she knew anything about his lottery win. Harper’s a good person, the best. She’s honest, and she doesn’t lie.”

  “Ethan is honest, too.”

  Her eyes flashed. “Oh, yeah. Except for lying about his real name and true identity, real honest.”

  She stood in front of him with narrowed eyes and hands fisted at her sides as if she was ready to do battle with him on her sister’s behalf. For reasons he didn’t fully understand, it made him smile. “Okay, you’ve got me there. It wasn’t one of Ethan’s shining moments.”

  A reluctant answering grin tugged on her lips. “No, it wasn’t. But the point is, Harper forgave him for lying. Eventually. She came to understand why he thought he couldn’t tell her the truth. Maggie and I have forgiven him too, because we see how much he loves Harper. So, why can’t you believe she loves him as much as he loves her?”

  Cam heaved a sigh as he looked toward the lake once more. His feelings were complicated. He wasn’t sure he understood them himself.

  “I’m not going to give you any more grief about the solar energy, okay?”

  “Okay. Ethan texted me the name of the solar energy company he’s been in contact with. Do you want me to set up a meeting with them so we know what their requirements are before you start building?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, sure. Let’s get the ball rolling.”

  “I’ll call them today.” She looked down at his sketches once more. “These are really wonderful, Cameron. You should be proud of them.”

  “I am.”

  She glanced toward him again, her smile amused. “Good. Have you always been an artist?”

  “You think you’re some kind of artist or something? Don’t be stupid. Why are you wasting time drawing pictures of cartoon characters? Nobody wants your stupid little pictures, boy.”

  With a force of will, Cam blocked out his father’s voice and his derisive laugh. The old man had been gone more than seven years, and he still messed with his head. “I’m no artist.”

  She cocked her head to one side and studied him. He resisted the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. Barely.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way.” She pulled her sunglasses from the neck of her t-shirt and slipped them on. “I’ve gotta run. When do you think the demolition will be done?”

  “We should finish in a few days. No more than a week.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll let you know when we’re to meet with the solar company.”

  He suppressed a groan. “Great.”

  She laughed and patted his arm. “Try to hold down your enthusiasm. Have a nice day.”

  The sexy sway of her hips as she walked down the road kept him rooted to the spot, unable to look away. He watched her until she rounded a corner and disappeared from view.

  Damn. The last he needed was to be attracted to Scarlet Lindquist.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Scarlet spent the rest of the day at the public library in Minnewasta trying to deal with their unreliable Wi-Fi network. She managed to set up a Facebook page and upload pictures she’d taken of the renovation so far to chronicle its progress. But when she began work on choosing a theme for a website, she lost the connection. She spent a frustrating half-hour trying to reconnect before asking the librarian for help. The librarian was sympathetic but unable to offer any suggestions. She explained that the Wi-Fi network was temperamental and their IT guy wasn’t scheduled to visit for another week. She then suggested that if Scarlet come back the next day, it might be working better.

  Scarlet thanked her and packed up her laptop. If she was going to create a website and get social media platforms up and running, she’d need an Internet connection that was far more reliable than the one at the library. Maybe she could find a coffee shop with a more reliable connection, but it certainly wasn’t the ideal solution. She’d have to drink a lot of coffee in exchange for tying up one of their tables.

  There had to be a better solution. She could drive to Brainerd or maybe St. Cloud and check out their public libraries. If that didn’t pan out, she might have to go all the way to Minneapolis. Perhaps she could stay at Ethan’s condo.

  But all of those options were inconvenient and, strangely, she didn’t want to be away from the lodge. She wanted to be part of the action and see the progress on the lodge and the new cottages as it happened.

  Even stranger, she found herself reluctant to leave Cameron.

  She told herself it was because Ethan had charged her with the responsibility of keeping an eye on him, but that was an excuse. Something drew her to him. Maybe it was his tenderness as a father, or the passion she saw in his drawings.

  Nothing good could come out of a liaison with Cameron Hainstock. They were no good for each other. He was an alcoholic, and she was totally unreliable when it came to relationships. She had two ex-fiancés who could vouch for that.

  Getting involved with Cameron was a really bad idea, especially since they wouldn’t be alone in any relationship. Both of them had to consider Tessa. And there was no way she’d do anything that might hurt Cameron’s daughter.

  That evening after dinner, Scarlet told Maggie she was going for a walk. Maggie raised a hand in acknowledgement, barely looking up from her cookbook. She’d been absorbed for days in developing signature dishes for the new kitchen in the lodge. Her sister was feeling the pressure of coming up with something wonderful, even though she kept saying she didn’t want the job as head chef. She maintained she’d be perfectly happy to play second fiddle as sous-chef to a more experienced head chef. Because she’d been so adamant, Ethan had been searching for a head chef. So far, no one had been willing to take a chance on a fledgling restaurant in an unproven resort in the middle of Minnesota.

  Maggie didn’t want to disappoint Harper and Ethan any more than Scarlet did.

  She made her way down the road toward the old cottages to see what, if anything, was left. The cottage closest to the one she and Maggie shared had been completely leveled. A dumpster sitting next to the cleared site was heaped to overflowing with the remains of the old building.

  At the next cottage site, the building had been flattened and most of the debris taken away, probably to the dumpster she’d just seen. Only the cement foundation and a few rotting timbers remained. Scarlet guessed the crew was waiting for another dumpster to be delivered so they could finish the job.

  The excavator had been left at the third site, the cottage knocked to the ground. For some reason, this one hit her hardest of all. She hadn’t expected the painful jolt at seeing the cottage reduced to rubble. There was nothing left to show that her grandfather, and her parents, had existed at all.

  Scarlet walked on to next cottage, which remained completely intact. She climbed the stairs to the front porch, noting the sponginess of the floorboards beneath her feet. The door to the cottage didn’t close properly, probably hadn’t for years, and had allowed snow and rain, and rodents and insects to enter. Cameron was right. These cottages were too far gone to save.

  But that didn’t make their destruction any easier to bear.

  She snapped several pictures of the interior with her phone and with the SRL camera she’d brought. Perhaps she’d use them on the website and on social media to show the before and after of the lodge. Or maybe she’d keep these pictures for herself, as a way to capture a tiny piece of her family’s history. As a way to remember.

  “I love you, Scarlet. No matter what happens, always remember that, okay?”

  Her father’s last
words to her played in her head. Had he been thinking about killing her mother when he’d spoken those words? Scarlet pushed the thought away and concentrated on taking more pictures.

  She heard the sound of a vehicle approaching and stepped out on the front porch. She was surprised to see Cameron’s truck. He stopped in front of the cottage and hopped out.

  “Hi,” she said as she walked down the stairs. “What are you doing here at this time of day?”

  “I need to take some measurements of the lots so we can finalize our plans. And I wanted to see what progress the boys made. I spent the rest of the afternoon at home working on the plans.”

  “It looks like they’ve been busy. The dumpster is completely full.”

  He nodded. “A new one is supposed to be delivered tomorrow morning.”

  “That’s good.”

  She glanced back at the old cottage. Soon they would be gone, nothing but dust in a landfill somewhere. Sadness pressed on her heart at the thought. They’d be gone the way her parents and grandparents were gone.

  “You okay, Scarlet?”

  Cameron’s question surprised her, jolting her from her morose thoughts. She swallowed and turned to him, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She lifted the camera. “I was taking some pictures. I guess I went a little too far down Memory Lane.”

  “I’m really sorry we couldn’t save these cottages.”

  She stared into his dark eyes and saw that he really did understand. “I know. I don’t have to be a structural engineer to see this place is ready to fall down on its own. I’m being overly sentimental.”

  “You’re entitled. Like you said, your grandfather built these cottages.” He looked toward the cottage as if studying the sagging roofline. “When I was a kid, my family ran an inn on a beautiful lake in northern Wisconsin. My mother’s father built the place.”

  “I didn’t realize we had a common childhood experience.”

  “At least the lodge is still in your family. My father sold the inn when Ethan and I were in high school. What was left of it, anyway.”

  Scarlet heard the bitterness in his voice. She wondered what it meant and waited for him to continue. Instead, he turned and walked back to his truck and retrieved a tape measure and a spiral bound notebook.

  “I’d better get busy with those measurements. I want to finalize plans and get them approved as quickly as possible so we can begin construction.”

  She set her phone and her camera on the front steps. “Can I help? I can hold the end of the tape for you.”

  He grinned at her. “Sure. I’d appreciate a hand.”

  They worked for over an hour taking measurements of each cottage site. Cameron drew a plot plan for each site, explaining that there had to be sufficient room for the new cottages that were to be built on the existing sites. He pointed to a few trees that would have to be removed, but he’d make careful use of the space so the number of trees that needed to be sacrificed was minimal. Scarlet snapped several more pictures, sneaking in a few shots of Cameron when he wasn’t looking.

  After they finished measuring the last plot, Cameron dropped her off in front her cottage. “Thanks for your help. That went a lot quicker than I expected.”

  “You’re welcome. I was happy to do it. I guess I needed a distraction this evening.”

  “Yeah.” His eyes were warm with understanding. “I’d better get home so I can finish up.”

  “Right.” She opened the cab door and got out. Before she turned away, she looked through the open window at him. “Will you be around tomorrow?”

  He nodded. “I’ll check in on the crew.”

  Their gazes met, clashed. A wild notion to wrench open the door and pour herself back inside flashed in her mind. She wanted to touch him everywhere, plaster herself over him, and feel him touching her, kissing her.

  She blinked and stepped away from the truck. What was she thinking?

  “Goodnight Cameron.”

  She turned and ran up the stairs to the cottage, not sure if he said an answering goodnight.

  “My name is Cam and I’m an alcoholic.”

  “Hello, Cam.”

  Cam looked out at the small group of people gathered together on a Tuesday evening in a church basement in Minnewasta, each of them there to fight their own personal demons. Alcoholics Anonymous was like an exclusive club, one that he and the other people in this room wished they didn’t need to belong to. Over the last three years, he’d heard many stories in groups like this. All the stories were different, telling tales of individual descents into alcoholism. But in many ways, they were all the same. The same struggle, the same heartache, the same stories of broken families and relationships.

  “I’ve missed some meetings lately,” he began. “I’ve been busy with work, but I know that’s no excuse. I told myself I was fine. That I’ve been sober long enough to be able to skip a few meetings.

  “But the other day, as I was huddled over my drafting table, I found myself craving a cigarette. I almost went out and bought a pack. I told myself I’d only have one cigarette, to ease my nerves. What could it hurt? That’s when I got scared and knew I had to get myself to a meeting. That kind of rationalizing, telling myself I could stop at one, is the same kind of thinking that made me an alcoholic. The truth is, in my mind a cigarette and glass of coke and crown belong together, like peanut butter and jam. I can’t have one without the other. Just like I can’t go into a bar and tell myself I’ll only have something to eat.

  “I’ve been given an amazing new opportunity, a chance to prove myself, and it scares the hell out of me. What if I screw up? What if the pressure is too much for me? A lot of people are counting on me. I’ve been given a second chance, to work and own my own business, and to be a father. I can’t mess that up.”

  The disappointment he’d imagined on Scarlet’s face if he started drinking again had kept him from reaching for that first cigarette, and that first drink. He couldn’t say why her reaction, rather than his brother’s or his daughter’s, mattered to him so much. But it had motivated him to attend the meeting tonight.

  “So here I am. Thanks for listening.”

  Several other people got up to share their stories. He’d seen most of them around town in the months since he’d moved to Minnewasta; the place was too small for complete anonymity. But he was surprised to see Reese Hanson.

  When the meeting concluded and everyone helped themselves to coffee and cookies at the back of the room, Cam approached Reese. “Hi. I didn’t know you were a friend of Bill W.”

  “Haven’t been at a meeting for a while,” Reese said. He sipped his coffee before continuing. “I’ve been in AA for over twelve years. Thought I had my drinking licked, but things have been…difficult lately. I’m finding myself needing the group more than ever.”

  “Maybe next time you could share what’s going on in your life with the group. It might help.”

  “I’m not sure anything’s going to help.” Raw pain flashed across his face before he masked it. “It helps being around the group.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Reese’s smile was tinged with sadness. “It’s kind of you to offer, but no, there’s nothing you can do.”

  Cam nodded. He’d seen Reese and his wife at Ethan’s wedding, and Abby looked frail. He knew she’d had surgery and was recovering, but maybe she was seriously ill.

  He didn’t want to push. If Reese didn’t want to talk about his problems, he couldn’t make him. Best to change the subject. “How are the renovations on the lodge coming along?”

  “Right on schedule. We’ve run into a few hiccups, but we’ve been able to work through them. I’m really proud of the Lindquist girls for taking on this project. A lot of people would have sold the place and never looked back.”

  “That was mostly Harper’s doing, from what I hear.”

  “I know,” Reese said, “but her sisters have stepped in to help. They didn’t have to do that.”

  “N
o, I suppose not.”

  Cam thought of Scarlet taking an unpaid leave from her job for five months. That certainly spoke of her commitment to the project and to her family. He hadn’t known her long, but he knew her well enough to understand she’d give everything she had to help make the lodge a success. She was the kind of woman who made him want to be a better man.

  He blinked at the thought. Where the hell had that come from?

  Scarlet Lindquist was an attractive woman, but that was as far as his appreciation went. Aside from their shared desire to see the successful completion of the renovations on the lodge, they had nothing in common. In a few months, Scarlet would pack up and head back to her real life in Chicago. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, get involved with someone who had no intention of sticking around.

  Regardless of how attractive he found her, he couldn’t take any chances. He was a package deal. If he got involved with her, she’d also get involved with his daughter. Tessa was already too attached to Scarlet for his liking.

  His smartest option was to keep a safe distance from Scarlet Lindquist. It was the best decision for everyone.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Maggie stuck her head inside the door of the cottage. “They’re here! Come on, Scarlet!”

  Scarlet slid her feet into a pair of flip flops and followed Maggie out onto the front porch as Ethan’s truck rounded the bend.

  “I hope they had a good time and didn’t worry too much,” Maggie said, lifting her hand to wave.

  “It sounded like they were having fun.”

  Scarlet had kept in touch with Ethan and Harper by email and text message for the last two weeks. She’d kept her messages as upbeat as possible, talking about all the progress that was being made on the renovations and the new cottages. Ethan had inquired numerous times about Cameron, and she’d been happy to tell him he was doing great and accomplishing a lot. Scarlet was inexplicably proud of Cameron. In spite of the fight he’d had with Ethan and the pressure he’d been under to get the cottages built, he’d stayed focused and hadn’t turned to alcohol.