by Maddie James
Some of the storefronts had awnings. Probably the ones already occupied, Lilly decided, since the others seemed empty, though it was hard to be sure since the reflection of her car nearly eliminated the possibility of seeing inside.
People, young and old, walked alone, in couples, in family groups, from one shop to the next. Progress it seemed wasn’t a goal, as time after time they stopped to talk to one another or to others they encountered along the way.
It was like nothing she’d ever seen. Like something out of a storybook. Like something she had always dreamed existed, but had never really believed could be real.
And now it was hers.
She would make it hers.
Lilly reached the southern end of Main Street and turned east on First. She passed the feed store and lumber yard, a very large Baptist Church, and then Legend High School where a giant banner across the southern wall declared: Legend Dragons, Four Time State Champions. Duly impressed she pressed on, past highly wooded subdivisions, until she finally came to Lake Road. She glanced at the map she had all but memorized in the weeks waiting for clearance to leave the safe house. She was to turn left onto Lake Road, a two lane road that completely encircled Legend Lake, meeting the toes of the Smoky Mountains on the opposite shore.
A huge yawn took her by surprise. She covered her mouth and drove slowly, trying to see the lake between the trees and lakefront houses as the quickly vanishing daylight threw more shadow than light. Determined to check it out in the morning, she focused on her immediate destination, Legend’s Landing Bed & Breakfast. Quickly enough the pristine white picket fence Polly had told her to look for came into view.
She drove on until she came to the appropriately numbered mailbox, then driveway, where double gates stood open. Cautiously she made her way down the long forested lane, struck anew when the yellow clapboard Victorian cottage came into view.
The house radiated welcome with its warm yellow lights burning behind sheer covered windows. The extensively tended gardens and neatly manicured lawn were breathtaking. She shook her head in wonder. It was like something in a Best of Homes and Gardens magazine.
Did the wonders of this place never cease?
Hoping not, she parked and pulled the two suitcases she would need for the next few days out of the back seat. Soon she would have to buy things. A lot of things, for both herself and her business. But for now, for her first night as Legend’s newest resident, she would make do with the little she had been able to bring.
As she made her way to the front door, she glanced back out of habit. Then furious she was still looking for danger in shadows, she closed her eyes and inhaled the scents offered by the array of flowers she’d seen.
The buzz of busy insects, the distant sound of Irish flutes, and the slight chill to the evening breeze, along with slow and measured breaths soothed and relaxed her. That life would not touch her here. She was determined to make a new start. A permanent start.
Fear had no place here. Caution, yes, but not fear. Not the expectation of danger. Not here. Not in this place. Not in her life ever again.
“Hello?”
She was proud she didn’t jump in reaction to the unexpected voice as she opened her eyes to find an attractive woman smiling at her. The woman wasn’t just attractive; she had a glow about her. Neither thin nor heavy, but well proportioned, she had a casual sense of style that Lilly knew she could never pull off. The long skirt and peasant blouse, the large chunky jewelry and bare feet, and the long flowing strawberry blond hair suited her perfectly.
She looked like an Irish gypsy with a Leprechaun’s smile and sparkling blue eyes. She was one of those women who could pass as early thirties, but had an air of knowledge that could add a decade or two.
Lilly returned her smile. “Hi, I’m Lilly Peach, and I guess you are Suzie, owner of this lovely home.”
“Yes, thank you. I’m Suzie Schul.” She reached out and took one of Lilly’s large suitcases before leading the way into the house. “Welcome. Come on in.”
Lilly followed her into the house and instantly fell in love. The entryway opened into a large living space filled with floral padded wicker furniture, house plants of all sizes, and mosaic topped tables that complemented the lakefront colors and patterns in the room. Even the windows were adorned with similar colored glass balls and beads. Promising herself the opportunity to get a closer look at everything later, she followed Suzie up the stairs to the first set of two doors. Lilly smiled at an already-decorated Christmas tree tucked into an alcove in the second floor landing. A quick glance down the hall told her another set of bedrooms sat at the opposite end.
“You have a bathroom that adjoins these two bedrooms. I have one other guest at the moment. A woman. Short term. Just until she gets settled in town, like you. So, you’ll have to share.” She opened the door and stepped back. “I hope this suits you.”
Lilly stepped into the room and felt a sense of peace envelop her. “Not a problem. It’s perfect. It’s all so perfect.” To her horror tears sprang from out of nowhere. She lowered her head and wiped at her eyes, unsure what had hit her so hard, and even less sure what to do about it.
“Oh, honey. What’s wrong?” Suzie sat the suitcase down and touched Lilly’s arms.
That only made things worse. “I’m sorry. Oh, good grief. I’m so embarrassed.” Lilly sniffed, wiping at her now running nose. She shook with the effort to control the overwhelming rush of emotions. “This is so stupid. I’m fine. Really.”
Compassion suited Suzie’s freckled face, Lilly decided, desperately determined to halt the tears. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, looking around for a tissue. “This is embarrassingly stupid.”
Suzie slid open the single drawer of the bedside table and handed her a small box of tissues. “It’s not stupid. Sometimes we just need to cry. I’ll give you time to let it out. And then, if you are sure you’re all right, I’ll go make us some tea. Or if you prefer, a martini.” The leprechaun smile was back. “And if you feel up to it, we’ll sit out on the sun porch off my kitchen and get to know each other.”
Lilly was tempted to claim fatigue, but the soft, mysterious Irish tunes, the incredibly seductive scents filling the home, the aura of kindness from her host, as well as the need to be a part of something normal for a change had her accepting. “I’d love some tea. Thank you.”
Suzie left her to the privacy of the room she would call her own until she found a house to rent. This room, just like the one below, was designed with vacationing on the lake in mind. The full size bed, covered with what looked like a hand sewn quilt in varying shades of turquoise and sand, had a large wicker headboard. The matching night stand held a small lamp and cordless telephone. The long dresser, the last piece of the set, had more than enough drawers to accommodate her few possessions.
The first order of business was to pull herself together. What, she wondered, had brought on the tears? She hadn’t cried in...forever. Not during all the years she’d been in hiding. Or even before that when she’d had to face a hard truth and turn against people she’d once loved. But she wouldn’t think about that now. She preferred to never think of it again.
No! She would never think of it again. It was a promise. A prayer.
After a quick splash of water on her face in the small but lovely bathroom, Lilly placed her clothing neatly in the dresser drawers and closet and laid out her toiletries on the little tray provided just inside the bedroom by the bathroom’s door. What a neat idea, she thought, since she would likely be sharing the bathroom before her stay was over.
After checking to make sure that door, as well as the one leading to the hallway were locked, she pulled out the money she had hoarded over the past four years, as well as what the agency had provided for her new start. The agency money would be plenty to establish a checking account for business and personal expenses. Her savings would keep hidden until she was certain she could relax and make a real life for herself in Legend. She stuffed her savings into
a zippered pillowcase and tucked it back into the suitcase’s false bottom.
That left one last item nestled in the bottom of her case. Lilly stared at the holstered Lady Colt, a .45 automatic pistol she’d been trained and licensed to carry. She hesitated, then closed the suitcase and stored both cases upon the closet shelf. She wouldn’t sleep with the gun under her pillow, nor would she carry it in her purse anymore. If Polly was right, and she was staking her life that Polly was, she was safe. The gun would stay stored. She would get a normal life.
It wasn’t so much to ask.
Good Lord, she thought, please don’t let it be too much to ask.
One deep breath and Lilly made her way downstairs. She followed the smell of something incredible to the very updated, gourmet’s dream kitchen. An amused light flashed in her hostess’s eyes as Lilly entered the room.
“I couldn’t resist. I’m trying a new twist on my chocolate swirl cream puffs before my class tomorrow. I’ve started teaching cooking classes on Saturdays and I wanted to perfect these before I shared the recipe with my friends. If they turn out well enough, I’ll add the change to the cookbook I’m putting together.” Suzie went to the large stainless steel range and poured steaming tea into two tall mugs adding a long cinnamon stick before handing the mug to Lilly. “I hope you like this. It’s my own blend.”
Lilly shook her head. “You cook, you teach, you’re writing a cookbook, and you no doubt decorated this lovely home. Please tell me you aren’t responsible for the incredible gardens outside, too.”
Suzie just shrugged. “My passions are many.” A bit of the sparkle left her eyes. “And they come at a price.” With a slight shake of her head her smile was back in place. “But then so does everything worthwhile.” She took the cream filled puffs from the cooling rack and placed one on each of two boldly colored saucers then slid one towards Lilly. “Come on, I want to show you why I bought this place.”
Exiting the kitchen through the back door they entered a screened-in porch, lit only by a dozen or so candles. The porch, like the house, was designed for comfort and relaxation. Lilly followed her host to one of the two overstuffed patio chairs and placed her still steaming mug on a coaster-covered frosted-glass tabletop. She took a bite of the pastry and quietly moaned with the pleasure of it. Suzie smiled her approval of Lilly’s reaction, then bit into her own.
Chirps and croaks, the gentle whoosh and whistle of the breeze through trees, and the rhythm of water lapping against shore were so peaceful Lilly yawned, making her afraid she might just fall asleep right there. She smiled at her hostess, a woman who seemed comfortable in her own skin and content to just sit quietly as if she had known that that was what Lilly had really needed. “This is lovely. I know I keep saying that. But really, I’ve never felt so instantly at peace anywhere.”
“Thank you. Neither have I.” Suzie chuckled. “But I haven’t been many places either. Born here, lived here all my life except the two years I went to culinary school, and plan to die here.” She rose and went to stand looking out into the now complete darkness, made darker by the many tall pines foresting her land.
“I did take a couple of month’s vacation once…” Suzie turned back with a distant look that Lilly interpreted as loss. “It was wonderful.” She glanced at her wrist and then at her guest. “I’d better get on to bed. Early to bed and early to rise for me has kept me healthy, and if not actually wealthy, at least doing okay, but wise? Hmmm.” She grinned and shook her head as if trying to dislodge something funny.
“I hope you’ll come to my cooking class on Saturday. It’ll give you a chance to meet some of the locals, including our town’s living legend.”
Chapter Three
“I’ll take it.”
“You understand the deal is as is.”
Brad Matthews nodded. “I understand.” He looked up at the decaying and dilapidated structure and wondered what it was like in its hey day. Although he hated to tear it down, that was exactly what he was going to do. “The land is worth the asking price.”
“What will you do with it?” The realtor he’d been working with studied him from the side.
“I have a plan.”
Martin McClain harrumphed. “Others have had plans, too. I assume you have the financing for renovation?”
He assumed correct. Brad suddenly had financing for just about anything he wished.
“Yes.” His answers were intentionally vague. These small town types, you never knew what they would keep confidential or pronounce in the coffee shop for the whole town to chew on.
That was the last thing he wanted, or needed: the whole town of Legend, Tennessee, all six-thousand-plus of them, chewing on his business.
No way. Not until he was good and ready.
“Lake Lodge is pretty special to the folks around here.”
Brad figured it was. Figured he’d also have a fight on his hands when they learned what he wanted to do with old Lake Lodge.
“Pretty special to me.” Brad left it at that and turned to Martin. “How soon can we close?”
Martin rubbed his chin with his forefingers. “Your loan is secure. The sellers are motivated. I’d say any time in the next few days. Let’s sign the paperwork and I’ll get it to their agent.”
He nodded and let a slow, languid grin spread across his face. “What else needs to be done?”
Martin studied him. “Well, for starters while you are here in town, I’d check with zoning, a local contractor or two, temporary utilities, et cetera.”
Good idea. It would keep him busy while he was waiting to take possession. Get the details out of the way so he could get to work.
He nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
Martin thrust out his hand to shake Brad’s. “Good dealing with you, Mr. Matthews. Got a place to stay while you are in town?”
For the first time since his arrival in Legend, a hint of trepidation skipped down his spine. Slowly, Brad angled his gaze toward Legend Lake and across the expanse of water. It was the same view Lake Lodge boasted of in old brochures, the one that forty years ago drew tourists to the mountains and the lake in droves.
And if he had anything to do with it, they would return in droves again.
His eyes rested far across the lake on a moderate-sized clapboard Victorian that sat nestled in a young cove of trees bordering the lake’s edge.
“Yes. With any luck, I will have a place to stay.” He turned to Martin and shook his hand. “Thank you, Mr. McClain. I’ll give you a call in the morning.”
Martin headed toward his older model Jeep. The guy was going to enjoy the commission he’d make from the sale. Well, good for him. He imagined the guy could use the money. Might as well let his inheritance contribute to the local economy.
Turning, he eyed his newest toy—a brand spankin’ new, baby-blue Harley Davidson Dyna—and swung a leg over the warm leather seat. Felt good to be in the saddle. In control. Two dreams coming true. A hog of his own and becoming his own boss real, real soon.
He was a man with a plan; knew exactly what he wanted.
But there was one more piece of his plan to accomplish, and he would work on that one, next.
He kicked the bike into gear and the rumble broke the mountain calm. As he spun out, he wondered what the locals were going to think when other rumblings broke the silence of the small town.
Like dynamite blasting a hole in the side of their favorite mountain.
****
Earlier that day…
One by one Suzie Schul lifted the grocery items out of her cotton bags and placed them on her kitchen island. What in the world did I forget?
Flour.
Eggs.
Cinnamon and nutmeg.
Sugar.
Blueberries.
Butter.
She’d forgotten something. What was it?
Darn it. Why hadn’t she made a list? She always made a list. Why didn’t she make a list today? Why not this time?
Seriously,
she had to get over this bad habit lately of second-guessing herself. Mentally she ticked off the recipe items needed for her famous Legend Mountain Blueberry Muffins. Flour, check. Eggs, check. Spices, check and check. Sugar, check. Fresh blueberries, check.
Butter, check.
Damn. Milk.
She’d forgotten the stupid milk.
And she was bone-dry out. She frowned in disappointment. Tonight was the night she wanted to perfect the recipe for her new cookbook—At Your Leisure: Recipes of Legend’s Landing Bed & Breakfast. Thinking about the new title her editor had just approved, she smiled but then immediately frowned as she glanced toward the groceries on her kitchen counter.
It wasn’t that the grocery store was that far away, or that it would take her hours to go back and get it. It was, however, the simple fact that getting back into the car, driving the ten minutes to the local Piggly Wiggly, working her way to the very back corner, grabbing the milk, and making her way to the checkout aisle would be another damned exhausting trip down memory lane. One she didn’t want to take again today. She’d already been there an hour or so ago, much to her chagrin.
Their voices still nagged at her….
“Suzie, honey, so sorry to hear about...Cliff.” Cluck, cluck. Old Mrs. Wilson. Her dementia had set in about a year ago and she recalled everything that happened exactly one year ago, over and over again. Whenever she saw Suzie, all the genteel older woman ever thought about was how Cliff had left her.
Poor, poor Suzie.
Pat-pat on her hand. “You feeling better, dearie? You look a bit peak-ed.” Mr. Wilson moved his hand up her arm. Suzie knew better than to turn her back on the old man because he’d be pinching her backside before you could say, “Howdy do.”
Then there was Betty Jo. Grocery clerk. Scowling across the melons. “That sister of yours should have known better. She wasn’t raised that way.” She violently shook her head. “You need to get out and find a man, sweetie. It’s time. Want to go to Knoxville with me Saturday night?”