“And he hasn’t seen a plastic bag?”
“Not here. We only arrived a few days ago and everything is new. We’re staying in my grandma’s house.”
“You’re Mabel’s daughter, too?”
The woman nodded and held out her hand, stretching to shake his. “I’m Diana. You must be Wyatt. My sister said she met you the other day.”
“Penny?”
“You have a good memory.”
It wasn’t that he had a good memory—it was because it was difficult to forget her. Whenever he started working on the portrait, Penny’s face interrupted his thoughts.
“Diana!” Another woman yelled from the veranda of his neighbor’s house. Unlike Diana and Penny, this woman had bright red hair. “The timer is beeping. Do you want me to take the cookies out of the oven?”
“Only if they’re ready,” his unexpected visitor yelled back. “I’ll be home soon.”
Wyatt frowned. “Is that another sister?”
Diana nodded. “That’s Katie. She’s a writer. In total, there are four of us. Penny’s the oldest. I’m next, then there’s Barbara and Katie.”
Charlie let out a low-pitched growl.
“It’s okay, boy,” Diana reassured him. “It’s only a bag.” In one smooth motion, she bent down, grabbed the plastic bag, and scrunched it onto a ball. “See. It won’t hurt you.”
Charlie sat on his bottom, staring up at Diana with a goofy expression on his face.
“Good boy,” she crooned.
Charlie’s tail thumped against the ground.
Diana looked up at Wyatt. “I’d better check the cookies. I’m sorry if we disturbed you.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
With a quiet command, Diana led Charlie back to their house, and Wyatt closed the studio window.
Picking up his brush, he stared at the landscape and tried to immerse himself in the field he was painting. For the last few weeks, he’d been blissfully unaware of everyone around him. Apart from the walkers and runners enjoying the lake, he didn’t have to worry about unexpected visitors or too much noise.
But with four sisters and a dog living in the house next door, the peace and solitude he’d enjoyed might be a thing of the past. And, unfortunately for him, he still had two paintings and a portrait to finish in the next four weeks.
Later that afternoon, Penny was sitting in her grandma’s kitchen with Diana, while Katie went through her carry-on, making sure she had everything she’d need for her return flight to Los Angeles.
“Your neighbor didn’t seem too bad to me.” Diana handed Penny a cookie. “Maybe you were more sensitive than usual after Grandma’s funeral?”
Penny’s eyebrows rose. “He was definitely obnoxious.”
“Even if he was, you’ve got the thickest skin of any of us when it comes to dealing with rude people.”
“I do not.”
Katie placed a small container of cookies in the middle of her bag. “Yes, you do. Even when we were little you knew how to talk to angry people. Why do you think we asked you to get the ball from our neighbor’s property whenever it landed on the other side of the fence? Everyone else was too scared to talk to Mr. Wiseman.”
Penny frowned. “He was lonely, that’s all. He’d forgotten how to talk to people.”
“And that’s why you were Grandma’s favorite. You always see the best in everyone.”
Penny studied her sisters’ faces. “I wasn’t her favorite. She loved all of us.”
“She did, but she definitely had a soft spot for you.” Diana handed Katie a sweatshirt that was sitting on the kitchen counter. “We still haven’t decided what we’re doing about the house.”
Barbara stuck her head around the door frame. “Don’t say anything until I get there. I just have to finish my call to Mom.”
Penny looked around the open-plan kitchen and living room. If they stayed here, there was so much they could do to modernize the house. Instead of the rosebud wallpaper and pink counter, they could add pale gray cabinets, a marble counter, and new appliances. With a fresh coat of paint on the walls, the house would look stunning.
Barbara hurried into the kitchen. “Oh, no. Penny’s planning something. She has the same look on her face that she had when I told her I was selling my apartment.”
Katie laughed. “And we know how that turned out.”
“You made eighty thousand dollars,” Penny said proudly. “And it sold for ten percent more than any other apartment in the building.”
“I also couldn’t sleep for a month.”
“I told you not to worry about the cost of the remodeling. I know what I’m doing.”
Barbara sighed. “So, what would you do with Grandma’s house?”
Diana sent her younger sister a worried frown.
“I’m only asking,” Barbara muttered.
Penny bit into her cookie. “I wouldn’t change too much. Even though the house is fifteen years old, it has great indoor-outdoor flow. The bedrooms are all good sizes, and there’s plenty of storage.”
“And the view is amazing,” Diana added.
“It is. But the kitchen, bathrooms, and laundry need to be updated.”
“If we were living here, it wouldn’t matter.”
Penny picked up her cup of coffee. “That’s true, but it wouldn’t hurt to do some remodeling. It would increase the value of the property and give us a project to work on together.”
Katie zipped up her carry-on. “Does that mean you want to live here and not contest Grandma’s will?”
Barbara frowned. “I called a friend who’s a lawyer. She said the same thing as Mr. Rogers. It can be expensive and time-consuming to contest someone’s will. I’m not sure it’s worth it.”
“Maybe not for you, but I like living in Los Angeles.”
“What about you, Penny?” Diana asked. “How do you feel about living here for a year?”
“I can do it, but only if I can split my time between Seattle and Montana.”
“What if you can’t?” Barbara asked.
“Then I’ll have a big decision to make.”
Katie poured herself a glass of water. “The only person telling us we can’t live in two places is Mr. Rogers. If we’re not going to contest the will, then all we have to do is convince him that Grandma wouldn’t have wanted us to lose our jobs.”
“I don’t think he’ll change his mind,” Diana said. “Grandma wanted us to spend more time together. Commuting between two cities is the exact opposite of what she wanted.”
“Grandma knew how important our jobs are to us,” Penny argued. “She wouldn’t expect us to give up everything we’ve worked toward to live here.”
Diana leaned against the counter. “What’s so wrong about living in Sapphire Bay?”
“Nothing, but it isn’t Seattle.”
“Or San Diego,” Barbara added. She picked up a cookie and studied the large pieces of chunky chocolate. “About the only thing we’ve agreed on since we’ve been here is who’s turn it is to bake more cookies.”
At the sound of his favorite word, Charlie ambled across to Diana and sat in front of her.
“No, you can’t have any,” she said firmly. “Chocolate is really bad for you.”
Charlie’s big doggy mouth opened in a wide yawn and he flopped onto the floor.
Diana rubbed his ears. “Mom and Dad will be disappointed if we don’t stay. They were looking forward to spending more time with us.”
Barbara sighed. “I’ll think about moving, but Katie and Penny don’t want to live here.”
Penny looked through the large French doors. The towering mountains on the far side of the lake were casting deep, mysterious shadows across the water. “I’ll cancel my flight and talk to Mr. Rogers. There has to be a way we can work from two places.”
Diana looked at Katie.
A bright red blush streaked across their sister’s face. “I’m still catching my flight to Los Angeles.”
“Come on, Kat
ie. At least say you’ll think about it. We all need to stay here.”
“I’m not living in Sapphire Bay,” she said stubbornly.
Penny cleared her throat. “We still have time to decide.”
Katie checked the time. “I won’t change my mind. I’m heading into town to buy some fudge before I drive to the airport. Does anyone need anything while I’m there?”
“No, thanks,” Diana said.
After Barbara and Penny shook their heads, Katie headed toward the hallway. Halfway across the room, she stopped and turned to Penny. “Have you looked in the chest Grandma told you about?”
The knot of grief in Penny’s chest tightened. “Not yet.”
“Why not?”
She didn’t want to answer Katie’s question. Even thinking about it made her heart pound.
Diana placed her hand on Penny’s arm. “It’s okay. We understand.”
Katie frowned. “It’s only a chest.”
Barbara glared at their youngest sister. “Don’t you have any empathy for how Penny feels? She spent more time than any of us with Grandma.”
“I couldn’t afford to fly home as often as Penny could. That doesn’t mean I didn’t love Grandma.”
“We know,” Penny said quickly. The last thing she wanted was for Katie to go home upset. “And you’re right. It is only a chest. But I’m worried that once I look inside, I won’t be able to stop crying.”
Katie looked confused. “Because of what Grandma found?”
Penny shrugged. “It’s not so much what she found, but what it represents. Mom said Grandma spent a lot of time gathering scraps of information about her parents. If I can’t find out what happened to her dad, I’ll feel as though I’ve let her down.”
Barbara sat beside Penny. “Grandma would be happy you’re willing to carry on where she left off. She knew the chance of discovering what happened to her dad was remote. But if anyone can figure it out, you can.”
Katie stuck her hands in her pockets. “And you won’t be doing it alone. Four heads have to be better than one.”
The smile on her sisters’ faces told Penny everything would be okay.
Katie glanced at her watch. “I’d better go. I’ll be back in half an hour to collect my suitcases.”
Diana patted Charlie. “And we’d better go for a walk. If I don’t see you before you leave, Katie, have a safe flight.”
“I will.” Katie hugged Diana. “I’m sorry I can’t stay.”
“There’s still time to change your mind.”
“I know.”
After Penny and Barbara hugged their sister, Katie picked up her wallet, gave Charlie a quick cuddle, then left.
“I hope she stays,” Diana murmured. “I can’t imagine not coming back to Grandma’s house when I visit.”
Neither could Penny. But with a promotion looming at work, she didn’t want to live here permanently, either.
Chapter 4
Wyatt sat silently at the back of the art class in The Welcome Center, listening to Natalie Armstrong’s tutorial. Making a substantial living from selling art wasn’t easy, but Natalie had built a career that was the envy of many artists.
From the information he’d found on the Internet, she exhibited her work at prestigious galleries across Europe and commanded high prices for her work. But, here she was, wearing an old paint-splattered shirt and jeans, and talking to a class of eager students.
Although he wasn’t here to talk about photo journalism or any of the other interesting topics they were discussing, he found the conversation fascinating.
By the end of the class, he could see why her workshops were so popular.
After talking with her students, Natalie made her way toward him. “You must be Wyatt. Ethan told me you might be here.”
He shook her hand. “I enjoyed the class.”
“They’re a great group of people. Sometimes we don’t get a lot of painting done, but that’s okay. Ethan said you’re organizing a community art project?”
“That’s right. I’m not sure what the best way of getting everyone involved would be. I’m hoping you’ll have some ideas.”
Natalie slid awkwardly into a chair. She smiled when he jumped out of his seat to help her. “Thanks. Being pregnant can make it difficult to do simple things.”
When she was standing, Natalie’s baby bump was hardly noticeable. But now, it was definitely there. “When is your baby due?”
“In three months. Gabe, my husband, keeps telling me to slow down, but I enjoy what I’m doing. Tell me about the art project.”
Wyatt handed her a folder of information. “I’d like to start in two weeks.”
“That doesn’t leave you with a lot of time to organize everything.”
“Pastor John is happy for us to paint the garage walls between the church and the tiny home village. So far, Wednesday seems to be the best day for the project meetings. Once we start painting, we can meet whenever it suits everyone.”
“How long do you think it will take?”
“It depends on how many people want to be part of the project. But if ten people are interested, it should only take a few weeks.”
Natalie studied the pictures of other murals painted by community groups. “Do you have a theme in mind for the paintings?”
“Not yet. I thought the residents of the tiny home village could come up with their own theme.”
“Good idea. Ethan told me he wants the residents to get to know each other.”
“The people who moved into their homes eighteen months ago don’t have a lot to do with the newer residents. Ethan and John are hoping the art project will bring everyone together.”
“Have you told anyone who you are?”
Wyatt’s eyes widened. There was no point pretending he wasn’t the person Natalie thought he was. “How did you know?”
“Ethan asked if I knew you. I saw one of your exhibitions when I was working in Venice. It was amazing.”
“Thank you. And to answer your question, Ethan and Pastor John are the only people who know I paint professionally.”
Natalie grinned. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”
“It’s not a secret. The only reason people don’t know who I am is because I haven’t shown anyone my paintings.”
“Well, if you have some spare time, you could give a guest presentation at The Welcome Center’s art program. The students would love to see your work and ask you questions. But, in the meantime, let’s look at your project plan. I’ve got some ideas about what could happen after you finish the murals.”
As Natalie told him about another project she had been involved in, he wrote her ideas on a sheet of paper. Listening to her made him realize how much he had to learn about living in a small community. And how much he could enjoy it if he forgot about what had brought him here.
Penny pushed a lock of hair off her face with the back of her arm. After a lot of maneuvering, she’d lifted two small wooden tables out of the attic and onto the back lawn. With a little tender loving care they would make gorgeous bedside tables. All they needed was a light sand and a fresh coat of oil.
She plugged her granddad’s sander into the extension cord and pulled on her mask.
As a child, when her sisters were playing with their dolls, climbing trees, or daydreaming inside a book, she was with her grandfather, helping him build furniture, toys, or anything her grandma needed. Even though she hadn’t built anything in years, she was sure her carpentry skills were one of the reasons she was chosen to work for Barclays.
With earplugs firmly stuck inside her ears, she turned on the sander and smiled in anticipation. In a couple of hours, the tables would look amazing.
Halfway through the second table, the sander stopped. Flicking the switch back and forth didn’t help, so she turned around, ready to check that her sisters hadn’t unplugged the extension cord by mistake.
Standing behind her, with the cord dangling in his hands, was her mysterious neighb
or.
Penny frowned. “Why did you do that?”
“I’m trying to work and I can’t do that with the noise you’re making. Have you ever heard of using the garage?”
“I can’t. We moved a lot of Grandma’s furniture in there and there’s no room.”
“Well, make room,” came the gruff response. “Do whatever you have to do to stop the noise you’re making. As well as being annoying, it’s sending dust everywhere. I’m on a tight time frame and can’t afford to miss a few hours of painting.”
“Don’t you think you’re being unreasonable? It’s not as if I’ve been sanding the tables for the entire day.”
Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. “The noise you’re making is only some of the problem. Whenever your sister’s dog leaves the house, he sits under my window, howling. Then another sister knocked on my door an hour ago, wanting to know if I knew anything about the boat shed between our properties. It’s worse than living in Chicago.”
He must be exaggerating. Penny waited for a smile to crack the stern set of his mouth. It didn’t happen. “I’m sorry we’re interrupting you.” She took the cord out of his hand. “I’ll tell Diana to keep Charlie away from your house and Barbara won’t ask any more questions.” She looked at the tables. “I’ll finish the sanding on the other side of the house. Hopefully, you won’t hear as much noise.”
“Thanks.” Wyatt ran his hand around the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about the other day—when I thought you were stealing the flowers.”
Penny took a deep breath. She hadn’t expected an apology, especially after he was so grouchy about being interrupted. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You were right. I should have asked who you were before I yelled.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She glanced at his paint-splattered clothes. “The paintings you’re working on must be important.”
“They are. I promised a gallery I’d have them ready for an exhibition in a few weeks’ time.”
Penny’s eyes widened. “Congratulations. You must be a talented artist.”
“I do my best.”
She bit her bottom lip. Even if she moved to the garage, the noise of the sander could still distract him, especially if he was feeling stressed. “I know what it’s like to work with a tight timeline. Last night, I went for a walk around the lake. It helped clear my mind.”
The Lakeside Inn Page 4