“We’ll put an end to this,” he said, his voice matter-of-fact and without any trace of softness. “She might think spending time with you at Iris House is akin to being consigned to a women’s prison, but she will think very differently after she spends a few weeks at Rock Crest.”
The military school had always been her father’s favorite threat with her. Maybe one of his daughters ought to call his bluff one day.
“I’ll be in touch,” Robert said again.
“Goodbye, Dad.”
He paused at the door, and to her surprise, he kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you for this. I know it will be an imposition on you. I want you to know, Pam and I both appreciate it. You returning to Hope’s Crossing right now came at an ideal time for us.”
“Glad I could help,” she said dryly.
Really? Could he be so oblivious to her own personal life trauma? The death of all her hopes and dreams? She had been abruptly terminated from the job she loved, and he couldn’t see beyond his own needs.
He waved and headed to his waiting Mercedes, and she returned inside to the angry shadow of her own teenage turmoil.
When she returned to the parlor, Crystal was texting something on her cell phone—something amusing, apparently, judging by her smirk.
For just an instant as she realized she was now responsible for this person who exuded teen angst, Lucy’s heart seemed to squeeze in her chest.
No. She could handle this, she told herself. She was tough and smart, and she had walked this particular road from the other side.
“Let’s take these bags up to your room and get you settled in,” she said.
Crystal looked as if she wanted to make some kind of snide comment, but she apparently thought better of it and shrugged instead. “Whatever.”
She stuck her phone in the pocket of her very tight shorts and grabbed the smaller suitcase, leaving Lucy to take the larger one.
She thought about saying something but had a feeling she was going to have to pick her battles carefully over the next weeks.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
FORTY-EIGHT HOURS after Crystal came to Iris House, Lucy had just about decided her entire world was now a battlefield.
Her sister argued about every single rule she had set up for the house. She left her things all over the place. She refused to help with the dishes—or the laundry or the gardening or cleaning out any of the rooms. She was disrespectful and pissy from the moment she woke up until she went to bed.
By the evening of the second day, Lucy wanted to tear her hair out, clump by frustrated clump. She tried to remember Brendan’s advice to provide a steady source of love to her troubled sister, but she didn’t know how in the world she was supposed to do that when Crystal had more impenetrable defenses than the offspring of a hedgehog mated with an armadillo.
She and her sister were locked in a battle of wills and the only solution was something drastic.
She was in the room she had designated as an office, going over the notes and sketches Genevieve had left her that morning when Crystal poked her head in. As usual, her makeup was about an inch thick, heavy on the eyeliner with her brows plucked to within a millimeter of their lives.
“Something’s wrong with your Wi-Fi,” she snapped.
“Is it?” Lucy asked blandly, pausing to glance at a mock-up Gen had done of the third-floor turret bedroom designed as an exquisite romantic honeymoon suite, complete with elaborately painted ceiling and four-poster bed.
“I’ve been trying for like fifteen minutes and it won’t let me on.”
“Maybe you’re not using the right password,” Lucy suggested blandly.
“It’s the same one I’ve been using for like two days. It’s not my problem, it’s yours.”
Lucy opened her laptop and clicked on her web browser, which immediately went to the news index she used as her home screen.
“Hmm. Strange. Mine’s working fine.”
“Check it. Seriously, I’ve been trying for fifteen minutes.”
“Oh, that’s right. I changed the password. I guess you need that one.”
Crystal gave her a disgusted look. “Hello? Why didn’t you tell me that when I said it wasn’t working? What’s the new password?”
Lucy casually flipped a page in the sketchbook. “I’m sorry but I’m not prepared to divulge that to you at this time.”
“What? Why not?”
“My house, my Wi-Fi, my rules. Using the internet around here is a privilege that you earn by being civil, something that has been in short supply the last two days.”
“You’re saying I can’t get online?”
“The city library has Wi-Fi, I understand. You’ll have to apply for a library card in order to use it, which takes an adult signature. I might consider signing it, but, again, we have that little civility issue.”
“I’m supposed to Skype with my friend Devin in like twenty minutes! What am I supposed to do?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure out something. You’re a smart girl. Oh, I should mention, Dad’s already called your mobile company and put strict limits on your cellular data usage. No cell phone workaround.”
“OMG. You’re worse than my parents! I hate it here so much!”
After two days, any semblance of patience Lucy might have possessed before this whole thing started was long gone. “Call Dad yourself, then. He can be here by bedtime. I’m sure your place at Rock Crest is already reserved, especially after the conversation I had with him this afternoon.”
Crystal looked like she wanted to throw something. Instead, she sat down. “What do I have to do to get the password for the day?” she asked with exaggerated patience.
“Spend an hour with me running errands in town without all the attitude.”
The sister who used to beg Lucy to come visit her looked as if this was the harshest torture anyone had ever been forced to endure. Worse than the rack or waterboarding or bamboo shoots under her fingernails.
“What’s the alternative?”
“No alternative. Take it or leave it.”
“One hour and I get the new Wi-Fi password?”
“You’ll have the password for twenty-four hours. Tomorrow I change it again and your behavior that day will determine whether I share it with you.”
Crystal’s frustration was palpable, but Lucy could also see her sister realized she had no alternative.
“Fine. One hour running errands. I’ll have to call Devin and tell her. When are we going?”
Lucy closed the sketchbook. She hadn’t expected Crystal to capitulate so quickly—but then her sister’s entire life seemed to be devoted to her social media activities.
“Right now is fine with me. Let me just run a brush through my hair and grab some lipstick.”
Five minutes later, they headed for her BMW.
“Can I drive?” Crystal asked, with more enthusiasm than she had yet shown for anything else.
“Nice try. You don’t have a license yet.”
“I have a learner’s permit.”
“Which your father is keeping in his possession until the charges against you are dropped.”
Crystal glowered and climbed into the passenger seat.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” Lucy said. “If you help me clean out the top turret bedroom tomorrow, in the afternoon we can drive out to this quiet road I know outside of town and practice a little.”
That seemed to mollify her sister a little. At least she appeared to stop sulking as they drove to downtown Hope’s Crossing.
Lucy found a parking place not far from her destination, Dog-Eared Books & Brew.
“I won’t be here long,” she said.
“I’ve got an hour to kill,” Crystal muttered, wandering over to the magazine racks.
> Lucy headed for the small business section and picked up several books on opening and operating a successful bed and breakfast.
When she returned to the magazine racks, she offered to buy Crystal the copy of Teen Vogue she was leafing through, but her sister declined and said she had it already.
“Was there something else you wanted?” she asked, praying this temporary détente would continue.
“No,” she answered tersely then appeared to try to relax her tone. “I think I’m good.”
“I need to pick up a special order and pay for them then I’ll have these rung up.”
Lucy wandered to the checkout, where the woman running the register looked vaguely familiar. That was the problem with living in a small town—she kept bumping into people she was almost certain she knew but couldn’t quite remember.
“Hi,” she said. “I placed a special order for a few books and got a call this morning that they had arrived. The name is Lucy Drake.”
“Oh, right,” the woman said with a cheerful smile. “Just a moment.”
She looked under the counter and pulled out three books on Victorian architecture and design.
“These are beautiful. I was hoping you wouldn’t pick them up for a few days so I could have more time to look through them.”
Lucy smiled, drawn to the woman’s open friendliness. “You can borrow them when I’m done.”
“Deal.” She cocked her head. “Lucy Drake. You’re the one living in Iris House now, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I live just a few blocks from you. I’m Maura Lange. I was Maura McKnight back in the day.”
This was Alex McKnight’s older sister, she remembered. Like everyone else in town, Maura had been friends with Annabelle. As Lucy remembered, she’d been a single mother raising a toddler on her own when Lucy had been in high school.
“You’ve got a great shop here. I’m sure I’ll be back. Books and coffee are two of my favorite things.”
“We are kindred spirits, then. It’s great being able to incorporate all the things I love into one store.”
“You’ve done a good job.”
“Thank you. Listen, we have a book club that meets about once a month. I don’t know what your reading tastes are like—aside from the obvious renovation guides—but we generally read a really eclectic variety. This month we’re reading a young adult fantasy we’ve all really enjoyed. We’re meeting Friday if you’d like to join us. We’re always trying to draw in new members to shake things up.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Lucy exclaimed. A moderately civil sister, an armload of new books and a potential new friend. This was turning out to be most definitely a red-letter day.
Maura slid a business card across the table, then flipped another one over and grabbed a pen from the caddy by the computer monitor. “If you give me your email, I can send you all the details.”
She scribbled it down.
“Welcome back to Hope’s Crossing. It’s so great to see someone in Iris House again. I’ve always loved that place.”
Everywhere she went in town, people told her how much they loved her house. It was both disconcerting and heartwarming.
After the bookstore, she had to fill up her car with gas and then they headed for the grocery store.
On the way, she tried to pick Crystal’s brain about the things she loved to eat but didn’t learn much, other than her sister hated fish and refused to eat veal or lamb.
“I can just stay in the car,” Crystal said as Lucy pulled into a parking space at the distant edge of the grocery store. “I don’t mind.”
“And do what? You have a limited number of texts now and you’ve probably already exceeded those. Come in with me. You can pick out a few things you might like to eat.”
Crystal’s jaw worked for a moment, but she finally forced a pleasant expression. “Sure.”
Lucy slid out of her car, just as a familiar SUV pulled into the space next to them. Her heart started to pound and her hands suddenly felt clammy.
She hadn’t seen Brendan since the night they had kissed, a memory that seemed to be seared into her mind.
She wanted to quickly rush into the store and pretend she didn’t see him but already Carter was waving excitedly at her out the back window.
“Wait a moment, Crystal,” she told her sister, who had already started for the store.
“Why?”
“These are some friends of mine,” she answered. “I should say hello.”
During the past difficult two days, she had done her best to put that stunning kiss out of her mind in order to focus on her problematic sister. It hadn’t worked all that well, she acknowledged. Now, as she watched him climb out of his SUV in all his big, tough gorgeousness, she couldn’t seem to focus on anything else.
The children opened their respective doors and rushed to her, Carter slightly in the lead since his side was closest to her. Faith must have helped him out of the booster seat straps.
“Look at that! Two of my favorite kiddos.”
“Hi, Aunt Lucy,” Carter exclaimed, throwing his arms around her waist.
Over his head, she saw Crystal’s heavily mascaraed eyes widen. “Aunt Lucy?” she asked. “What’s that about? Do we have some long-lost relatives I’ve never met?”
“It’s a long story,” she answered her sister. “Their mom was my cousin on my mom’s side and also my dear friend.”
“Where did you go the other day?” Carter demanded. “I thought you were going to be there for breakfast but Daddy said you went home.”
Not before he kissed me senseless.
She finally dared a glance at Brendan and found him watching her intently.
She could feel her cheeks soak with color. “I never planned to stay for breakfast, Carter. Only until your dad got back.”
She hugged Faith, remembering their last intense conversation. “How are you, my dear?”
“Okay,” Faith said. “I’m almost done with Anne of Avonlea. I might have to wait to read the next one because I have to do a book report on Matilda.”
“Hey, I read that book when I was a kid,” Crystal said. Faith turned with interest, taking in the double pierced ears and the tight clothes.
“Hello. I’m Faith Caine,” she said.
Lucy winced. A seven-year-old had better manners than she did. “Sorry. This is my sister, Crystal. Crystal, this is our neighbor Brendan Caine the fire chief in Hope’s Crossing, and these are his children and my honorary niece and nephew, Faith and Carter Caine.”
She held her breath a little, wondering if her sister would make some snide comment. Instead, she nodded with something almost resembling politeness.
“Hello,” she answered, and while her tone wasn’t exactly warm, it wasn’t belligerent, either.
“Where do you live?” Carter asked.
The girl looked a little taken aback by the question. “With my mom and dad in Denver.”
“Crystal will be staying with me for a few weeks,” Lucy explained.
“You’re lucky,” Faith declared. “I love Iris House. I wish I could stay there all the time. It’s like a castle.”
“It’s because of the cool turret. That’s where my room is. I can see the whole town from the windows,” Crystal said.
If Lucy had false teeth, she would have spit them out at the enthusiasm in her sister’s voice. For forty-eight hours, Crystal had despised the very idea of Iris House, and now she was expounding on the architectural details.
“That’s so cool!” Faith exclaimed.
“Are you buying groceries, too?” Carter asked. “We’re all out of eggs, milk and bread.”
“Good job remembering the list, kid.” Brendan said, the first words he had spoken since pulling into the park
ing lot. “We should probably get on it so Lucy and her sister can do the same.”
At his prompting, they headed as a group toward the grocery store. Just a few yards past their parking spaces, Faith suddenly jerked to a stop.
“Did you hear that?” she said, suddenly alert.
“What, bug?” Brendan asked, stopping beside her.
“Something’s in that big garbage bin. I just heard it. I think it might be a baby crying!”
Brendan eyed the Dumpster in question. “A baby? Honey, I think you’re imagining things.”
“I think I heard it, too,” Crystal said with a frown. “Listen.”
They all went quiet, even Carter—something of a miracle. The world seemed to cooperate for a moment as no cars drove past.
As she strained her ears, Lucy heard the faintest of sounds, more a squeak than a cry.
“Did you hear it that time? I think it’s coming from the Dumpster!” Crystal said.
Brendan eyed the bin with reluctance. “It’s probably a rat.”
“Ew!” Faith wrinkled her face while her brother looked thrilled at the possibility.
The sound came again, faint but distinct.
“What if it is a baby?” Faith pressed. “What if somebody accidentally threw it away? We can’t just leave it there!”
“It’s not a baby.”
“How do you know if you don’t look?” she said with uncharacteristic mulishness.
“I bet it’s an alien, like E.T.,” Carter said. “I bet he fell in, but he doesn’t have hands, only tentacles, so he can’t open the lid and now he’s stuck.”
“We have shopping to do,” Brendan said.
“Just take a look, Dad. Please? I don’t want to leave a baby in there.”
“It’s not a baby,” he repeated, but with a sigh, he headed to the garbage bin and held open the metal cover. He peered inside. To Lucy’s surprise, Crystal walked up next to him to look in, as well.
“Oh. Oh, my gosh. Do you see that?” her sister exclaimed.
“I see it,” he said grimly, flipping the lid of the container all the way open.
“What is it?” Lucy asked. She couldn’t resist joining them just as Brendan lifted out a box that looked as if it had once contained oranges.
Wild Iris Ridge (Hope's Crossing) Page 15