The River House

by Carla Neggers

  Felicity managed to get control of herself. She didn’t swear out loud or even under her breath, but she was not prepared to see Gabe tonight—and she’d just accepted Olivia’s invitation to dinner. “It’ll be cooler on Saturday,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’ll scoot down to the inn.”

  “Maggie and I can answer any questions once you’ve had a look.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  Olivia abandoned her hot chocolate and rose, visibly stiff. A hand on her lower back, she walked with Felicity through the main room and out the front entrance. Buster, her German shepherd mix, had materialized on the stone walk, lazing in the shade. He wagged his tail but otherwise didn’t stir. “It was just Buster and me out here at first,” Olivia said. “I liked that idea. Then Dylan came along...” She smiled, her hazel eyes warm with emotion. “It’s not just Buster and me anymore.”

  “I’m happy for you, Olivia.”

  “Thank you.” She patted her middle. “Pretty soon Buster will have to get used to a baby on our dead-end road.”

  She and Dylan also had kept his house on Coronado Island in San Diego. They might be starting new businesses and living relatively normal lives in Knights Bridge, but they were worth a considerable fortune. Felicity motioned vaguely down Carriage Hill Road. “Back in a few minutes.”

  “Have you seen Gabe lately?” Olivia asked as Felicity descended the steps to the stone walk. “You two used to hang out together.”

  “It’s been a few years.”

  She debated saying more but instead continued past Buster. She heard Olivia gasp behind her and spun around. “Olivia—are you all right?”

  Olivia swayed and reached out a hand, as if to balance herself, but there was nothing to grab hold of. Felicity launched herself up the steps, getting to Olivia just as she crumpled. She hooked an arm around her and eased her onto the landing. Felicity quickly checked for blood or amniotic fluid but didn’t see any. Had the heat gotten to her? They’d only been outside a few minutes, but Felicity didn’t know where Olivia had been that day or what she’d been doing.

  She fumbled for her phone to call 911, but Olivia stirred and tried to sit up. “I’m okay,” she mumbled.

  “You fainted,” Felicity said. “I’ll call for an ambulance.”

  “What? Oh, damn. No. Really. I just...” She tried to sit up. “I didn’t pass out. It was close, but I just got wobbly and couldn’t... Don’t call an ambulance. I’m okay, I promise.”

  “I can call your doctor.”

  “I’ll call her. I just need a minute.”

  “And Dylan?”

  “He’s on his way. There’s no need to worry him. Can you get me a glass of water? I think that’s all I need. I’ll be fine here.” She smiled weakly, leaning against the doorjamb. “I have Buster.”

  The big dog had roused himself from his spot in the shade and was lumbering to her. Olivia patted him. She was clearly feeling better, but Felicity still had misgivings about not calling for help. “I’ll fetch you some water, but if you feel at all faint, call 911.” She folded her phone into Olivia’s hand. “And if there’s even the slightest question when I get back, I’m calling.”

  Felicity raced inside, leaving the door open. She filled a glass with water from the tap, moistened a dish towel and charged back out to Olivia with both. Olivia was sitting up, Buster sprawled at her side. Her color looked better, and she didn’t seem as unsteady. “Water or towel first?” Felicity asked her.

  “Water.” Olivia smiled as Felicity handed her the water. She took a few tentative sips. “I let myself get dehydrated.”

  “I can call your doctor. Really, I don’t mind.”

  “I’ll call in a minute.” Olivia set the glass on the landing next to her and accepted the cool, wet towel from Felicity, placing it on the back of her neck. “That feels so good. You can go onto Carriage Hill. I’m fine.”

  Felicity shook her head. “It’ll keep. I’ll stay with you until Maggie gets here.”

  Olivia nodded and picked up her water glass again. The barn was air-conditioned, but she obviously needed to get her feet under her before she tried to stand up. She finished drinking her water. In a few more minutes, she started to get to her feet. Felicity eased next to her, but Olivia didn’t need her assistance. They headed inside. Olivia sank onto the sectional and ran both hands through her hair, exhaling. “That was no fun,” she said. “I have a bit of a headache, but all in all I feel fine.”

  “But you’ll call your doctor while I’m getting you more water.”

  She smiled. “I will call my doctor now.”

  When Felicity returned with two fresh glasses of water—one for each of them—Olivia was more or less back to normal. She set her phone on a side table. “I spoke with my doctor’s office about my spell.” She stretched out her legs, settling in on the sectional. “All set. Plenty of fluids. Rest. Call if there’s a problem.”

  “And Dylan? Are you sure you don’t want to call him?”

  “I’m sure,” Olivia said without hesitation. “I’ll tell him when he’s back. I’m fine. Thank you for keeping me from splitting my head open on the steps.”

  Felicity sat on a chair across from her, Buster flopped on the floor between them. “You’re welcome.”

  “Sorry if I scared you.” She crossed her ankles and uncrossed them with a small moan. “Not a good position. I’ve months to go with this pregnancy, too.” She patted her middle. “What do you think, boy or girl?”

  “Healthy.”

  “There’s probably a pool in town. Sex, height, weight, date of birth.” She yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “Oh, my. I’m sleepy. I think I’ll stay right here for now. I’ll be fine if you want to scoot down to Carriage Hill now.”

  “It’s okay. I have other work I can do until Maggie gets here.”

  “If you’re sure—” Olivia stopped, drank more water and smiled. “Thank you, Felicity. I’d appreciate the company. Best to be on the safe side.”

  Felicity settled in at the table. Now it was just a question of who got there first, Maggie Sloan or Dylan, Russ and Gabe.

  Four

  Maggie Sloan arrived first, with dinner and brownies. “I thought you might want to try my brownies since they’re on the menu now for Saturday,” she said, setting a picnic basket on the counter in the barn’s kitchen. She grinned at Felicity. “That’s my excuse, anyway.”

  “As if you need an excuse to make brownies,” Olivia said, now sitting at the table.

  Felicity shut her laptop at the end of the table. “I’ve heard stories about your brownies, Maggie.”

  “They’re one of my signature desserts. It’s hard to mess up a brownie, but I do love my recipe.” She lifted a foil-wrapped package from her basket. “I say we start with sharing a brownie. Plan?”

  Olivia laughed, clearly fully recovered. “An excellent plan.”

  Maggie unwrapped the brownies and broke one into thirds, then distributed the pieces among three napkins. Felicity took one to Olivia before returning to her laptop seat with hers. Her generous chunk of brownie was moist, chocolaty and irresistible. She immediately thought of Gabe. Even if she’d made him brownies three years ago, they wouldn’t have been this good.

  “Incredible as always, Maggie,” Olivia said, turning to Felicity. “People argue it’s hard to have a bad brownie. Then they try Maggie’s, and that’s that.”

  “They’ll work for Saturday?” Maggie asked, leaning against the kitchen counter.

  “Definitely,” Felicity said. “Thanks.”

  With Gabe on the way, she was tempted to skip dinner and just eat brownies, but she limited herself to the pre-dinner morsel and helped Maggie unload the rest of the food. There was plenty for the three of them. Olivia hadn’t exaggerated.

  “I made enough for Dylan and Gabe,” Maggie said. “There’s p
robably enough for Russ to have a bite, too, but I figure he’ll want to get home to Kylie.”

  They set the table and enjoyed the simple fare of grilled chicken, summer squash and sliced tomatoes, but with Maggie’s flair. Afterward they walked the short distance to Dylan and Olivia’s new house. Felicity knew she was pushing it if she wanted to get out of there before the guys arrived. She’d skip checking the space at Olivia’s inn. It’d be fine. She followed Maggie and Olivia inside through the side door and into the kitchen. It was dusk, the fields behind the house quiet on the still evening.

  “You should get home to Tyler and Aidan,” Olivia said, referring to Maggie’s sons. “Felicity, you can head home, too. I’ll be fine here on my own.”

  Maggie shook her head, clearly unimpressed. “I’ve had two babies, Olivia. I’m staying until Dylan gets here. The boys are with my mother. She’s teaching them how to feed the goats. They’re all excited. Brandon doesn’t want to have anything to do with the goats, so they’re taking advantage of him being away.”

  Maggie immediately filled up a glass of water at the sink and handed it to Olivia. “Drink up.”

  “The house is amazing,” Felicity said, noticing the adjoining den also had a large stone fireplace.

  Olivia smiled, water glass in hand. “Thank you. We love it. Mark was the perfect architect. He did a great job on your house, too. I envisioned a quiet country destination inn that I’d run while freelancing as a graphic designer, but then I wrote to Dylan, thinking he was his father, to clean up his eyesore of a yard or I’d do it myself...” She sipped some of her water. “I soon discovered his father had died before he had a chance to tell Dylan about this property and Knights Bridge.”

  Felicity knew the story, or at least the highlights. Duncan McCaffrey, a treasure hunter and adventurer, had gone on a search for his birth mother, never thinking he’d find her—or certainly that she’d still be alive. His search had led him to tiny Knights Bridge and Grace Webster, a nonagenarian retired English and Latin teacher who’d never married. She’d moved from one of the lost Swift River Valley towns in her late teens, while pregnant by an English pilot who’d gone home to the war. She’d given birth to a baby boy and he was adopted, unaware of her identity until he himself was in his seventies. Grace had just moved into assisted living when Duncan arrived in Knights Bridge. He’d bought her house, and a short time later, he died in a tragic fall on a Portugal treasure-hunting venture.

  In the meantime, Olivia had purchased the center-chimney house, built in 1803, long before construction of the Quabbin Reservoir had turned Carriage Hill Road into a dead-end, stopping it from winding into the small towns of the now-flooded Swift River Valley. The house’s previous owners had lovingly restored the property, including adding extensive herb and flower gardens. Olivia had set about converting the house into a destination inn, hosting parties, small weddings and other events. Her main obstacle was Grace’s former house up the road. It had fallen into neglect, its unsightly yard, broken shutters and peeling paint not exactly conducive to Olivia’s new business. She located its owner in San Diego and wrote him a letter. She’d confused Dylan with his father. When Dylan had received her handwritten note, he’d decided to head East and find out for himself what his father had been up to in little Knights Bridge and why he’d left him a dilapidated old house.

  No one in Knights Bridge had realized that Grace had born a child. She’d met Duncan, her son, before his untimely death, and now she had Dylan—her grandson—in her life, and a great-grandchild on the way. Her English fighter pilot had died early in World War II, but no one doubted he’d have come back for the young woman he’d fallen in love with in New England the summer prior to the outbreak of the war, as her home and town were razed, the land scraped bare to make way for a reservoir.

  Felicity liked Grace, who was preparing a lecture on Jane Austen for Sunday’s tea.

  She found herself not wanting to leave just yet and go home to her empty house and buzzing thoughts. “Was it difficult tearing down Grace’s house?” she asked.

  “In some ways,” Olivia said. “Grace was for it, though. She’d lived in the same house since she arrived in Knights Bridge with her father and grandmother after they were forced out of the valley. When she turned ninety, she decided it was time to move to Rivendell. She loves it there. It’s home now.”

  “Grace gained a grandson and Dylan gained a grandmother,” Felicity said.

  “And family in England,” Olivia added, sinking onto a couch in the den with her glass of water. “Philip Rankin—Dylan’s grandfather—was a widower, and his daughter and granddaughter welcomed us into the family.”

  Maggie pointed to the glass. “You’re going to finish that, right, Olivia?”

  Olivia smiled at her friend. “I’ll keep it at hand. I’ve drank so much water I could float away.” She turned to Felicity, who remained on her feet, half ready to bolt. “How do you like being back in Knights Bridge? Did you ever think you’d return here to live?”

  “I never gave it much thought one way or the other. I’m good at planning events, but planning my life is a different story.”

  Maggie snorted in solidarity. “I can identify with that. I plan. Then I revise the plan when life intervenes, which it always does. I mean, an O’Dunn and a Sloan together? How could my life be anything but chaotic?”

  “Also perfect,” Olivia said.

  “Mostly perfect. I have a tendency to take on too much in case you haven’t noticed.”

  Both Olivia and Felicity laughed along with Maggie at her dead-on insight into herself. In addition to Brandon and their two young sons, his parents, feisty grandmother, four brothers and one sister, and her own three sisters and widowed mother, Maggie was also a caterer, innkeeper and budding entrepreneur of handmade essential oils and goat’s milk bath products. It was a full, busy life, for sure, but Felicity could see how it could get overwhelming. Any sense of “overwhelm” in her own life came not from the sort of abundance Maggie enjoyed but from her own bad habits.

  “I hadn’t really considered moving to Knights Bridge until Mark put the house up for sale,” Felicity said. “Once I toured it, I knew. I’ve always loved that spot on the river.”

  Maggie tilted her head back. “Nothing to do with the Flanagans?”

  She tried to look as if mention of the Flanagans didn’t faze her. “I remember before Mark built the house. I assumed he and Jess would stay there, but they seem happy in the village. It makes sense they’d want to restore an old house.”

  “Gabe never wanted to live in Knights Bridge,” Maggie said.

  Olivia nodded. “That’s why he let Mark buy out his interest in the riverfront property.”

  “Mark bought Gabe out?” The words were out before Felicity could contain them. “Never mind—”

  “They pitched in together to buy the camp from their grandfather,” Olivia said. “Didn’t you know?”

  Felicity shook her head. “I didn’t know.” She absorbed the news and shut down the dozen questions that erupted all at once. She forced a smile. “I guess it doesn’t matter. I’m enjoying putting my own stamp on the place.”

  “You can plant all the flowers you want,” Olivia said lightly. “Jess says Mark didn’t want so much as a petunia out there. He’s more amenable to flowers in the village. I think he still sees the river house as a camp.”

  Maggie grinned. “I’d get a flower doormat, too. De-Flanagan the place altogether.”

  Felicity couldn’t help but laugh, but she also decided a shift in subject was in order. Then a quick exit. “How did Dylan get Gabe to do the boot camp?”

  Olivia shrugged. “I don’t know the details. I imagine Mark was involved. Gabe has quite a reputation as a start-up entrepreneur. He’ll have a lot to offer on Saturday.”

  “You two were always tight, Felicity,” Maggie said, plopping onto a chair by the cold fireplace
. “You didn’t stay in touch?”

  “We did for a while.” Felicity left it at that and hoped it was a sufficient answer and didn’t sound evasive. She didn’t want to get into any details about her and Gabe’s parting-of-the-ways. “I should get going. Thanks so much for dinner, and the company. Take care, Olivia, okay?”

  “I will. Thank you again. I’m glad you were there when I went wobbly.”

  Felicity didn’t argue, but she was convinced Olivia had actually fainted.

  Maggie took another glass off an open shelf. “You’ll have to join us for one of our girls’ nights out, Felicity. We’re overdue for one.”

  “I’d like that. The brownies are great, Maggie. They’ll be perfect for the party.”

  “We’ll have low-carb goodies, too,” Maggie said. “It’s awesome to have an event planner in town. I’m good with food, but party favors, guest lists, registrations, RSVPs, entertainment—my head starts to spin.”

  “We make a good team, then, because I’d poison everyone if I did the food.”

  “Accidentally, of course,” Maggie said with a grin.

  “Don’t get Maggie started,” Olivia said, tucking her feet under her on the couch. “She’s got a list of people she’d merrily poison.”

  All in good fun, Felicity thought as she said good-night and headed outside.

  She took the stone walk back to her beat-up Land Rover. It was tucked in the back of the barn’s discreet parking area. She understood that buying the house from Mark was naturally a source of curiosity in town, but she doubted anyone knew just how much work it had taken the past three years to get to the point where she could qualify for a mortgage. No doubt in her mind she’d have done it without Gabe’s prodding, but she doubted he’d see it that way. He’d take credit.

  Didn’t matter. He didn’t need to know her financial status.

  And it was a reach, wasn’t it, to think he might be interested? He’d had three years to show an interest in her, and he hadn’t.