Blue Heaven (Blue Lake)

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Blue Heaven (Blue Lake) Page 2

by Cynthia Harrison


  “You wouldn’t happen to know a roofer, would you?” The cottages had missing shingles. Every roof needed to be replaced, including her bungalow’s, after she added that second floor.

  Jane pulled out her cell phone and scrolled, then took a card out of her purse and wrote on the back.

  “Thanks.” In true Blue Lake fashion, Jane had only written a first name, Frank, and then a phone number. As she slid from her bar stool, Eva grabbed her jacket. She’d like to stay and talk to Jane, who seemed like a nice person, but she had business to take care of first.

  “I might be able to get you that loan.”

  Eva stilled, one arm in her jacket, the other dangling. “How?”

  “You’d never know this by the way Daniel behaves, but my daddy still owns fifty-one percent of that bank. And I know he’d think it best to keep your business in Blue Lake.”

  Eva slid her arm from the jacket sleeve and sat back down.

  “Everybody in the county has been waiting for the day Blue Heaven could be restored,” Jane said. “Your daddy used to come in here with me for lunch and he’d be full of plans for the place.” Here Jane paused and reached a hand over the bar to cover Eva’s. “I was sorry to hear he passed.”

  Eva nodded and Jane sipped her wine. Eva had heard those plans many times. It was a big part of the reason she was here, attempting to do this thing. Her dad had planted the seed, and his dream lived on in Eva. She really believed, as Jane did, that opening Blue Heaven to paying guests would be a boon to the entire town.

  “So why doesn’t Daniel get it?”

  “Really? You don’t know?” Jane looked amused. “Eddie, bring this woman a glass of wine.”

  Eddie poured the wine and put it down in front of Eva.

  “I’m sorry,” Eva said. “I don’t want to be rude, but I really need to get financing for my project before I celebrate.” She let the wine sit there on the bar.

  Jane smiled and pulled out her phone. “Daddy?” she said after pressing the keypad. “I need a favor.”

  A short conversation ensued, with Jane’s back to Eva so she couldn’t hear much of what was said. Then Jane shut her phone, promising Eva the paperwork would be typed up and ready to sign in ten minutes.

  Eva felt a little like Cinderella meeting her fairy godmother, but she decided not to question the fortunate turn her day had taken. It was about time for something to go right in life. She sipped her glass of wine, just to be polite. It was surprisingly delicious. She took another small sip, which had nothing to do with the fact that she was a tad nervous about how Daniel would react when she waltzed back into the bank and claimed her cash. This reminded her that she still didn’t know why he cared about that guy named Bryman—and her bungalow—so much.

  Eva clinked glasses with Jane. “Thank you,” she said. After a final token sip, Eva set her wine glass back on the dark polished wood of the bar.

  “Why is Daniel so territorial about my property?”

  “He’s a Bryman,” Jane said, rolling her eyes.

  Bryman. Eva had a sense before that Daniel talked as if this unknown Bryman was another Frank Lloyd Wright or something, but now everything clicked into place.

  “He’s related to the architect who designed Blue Heaven,” Eva said.

  “His great-granddaddy,” Jane confirmed.

  Interesting. Eva took another sip of her wine, without thinking, and then set it as far out of reach as possible.

  “I know you want to keep a clear head,” Jane said, eyeing the distant unfinished glass of wine. “But we have to give our clerk time to type up the paperwork.”

  “After the deal’s signed, I’d be happy to buy you an entire bottle of wine,” Eva said.

  A smile softened Jane’s face. In her designer suit and high heels, Jane appeared a super-competent businesswoman, but her smile transformed her into someone else. Maybe a new friend.

  “I’ll take you up on that,” Jane said.

  “I still don’t understand why Daniel would spite the entire town just because he’s afraid I’ll botch the renovation.”

  “He’d call it a restoration. Bit of a control freak. But it’s not his fault.” Jane eyed Eva’s glass of wine. “Hit me one more time, Eddie,” she said, pushing her empty glass toward the bartender.

  “Why isn’t it his fault?” Eva asked, since she had to wait for Jane to drink yet another glass of wine. “That he’s so controlling, I mean.”

  “Daniel wanted to be an architect, too. He was in college in Ann Arbor when he was called home. Family tragedy.” She set down her wine glass and crossed her arms. “I think buying up and renovating every Bryman home in town became kind of an obsession with him.”

  Eva wondered what the tragedy was, but she didn’t want to pry. She thought about Daniel’s face in the bank that morning when she’d mentioned his father. It hit her all at once, like most of her verbal gaffs. Something bad had happened to Daniel’s father.

  Chapter Two

  Daniel took the loan papers for Eva’s financing from his secretary, and looked them over. Everything was legal, if not ethical. Jane had her father wrapped around her little finger, so old man Augustine fast-tracking Eva’s paperwork didn’t pique his curiosity as much as Jane taking an interest in Eva. He felt an old stir of discomfort.

  Just then, Eva sashayed in the front door of the bank like a satisfied cat who’d just licked clean a bowl of cream. She walked toward him, hips swinging, a smile on her face. This woman demanded notice. And he did. Notice her. He was human, after all. He handed her the documents and indicated a chair. He sat across from her, watching her read. She took her time on the fine print. Smart and pretty all in one petite package.

  “One missed payment and we begin foreclosure.”

  “I can read.” She signed the pages and pushed them toward him. “Anything else?”

  “Good luck.” This time he turned away from her swaying hips and her pert ass. He had to find a way to stop her from ruining Blue Heaven.

  Once Eva left the building, and he saw her pull out of the lot, he got into his car and drove to the state park. Not because it was next to Eva’s property, but because running on the beach relaxed him.

  He changed his loafers for the running shoes he kept in the trunk and headed down to the pier. The spring air made goose bumps pop up on his bare arms as he neared the water. He made his way down the beach from the pier steps. Despite the proof on his skin, he didn’t feel the outer weather. His lungs filled with air full of positive freshwater ions. He sought to calm the turmoil inside, created when a certain hurricane named Eva had blown into town.

  Before he knew it, he’d jogged almost to the trickle of river that ran through the middle of town. As he turned and headed back to the pier, he could hear the faint sound of construction.

  He sprinted the final length of sand, taking Eva’s rickety steps up from the beach instead of going on to the park. Frank Smith pried and pulled at the shingles on her bungalow’s roof, tossing them to the ground.

  “Hey!” Daniel yelled at Frank. “Hang on a minute,” he said, when the roofer looked down. Frank had done a fair amount of work for Daniel, so he tended to listen when given a direct order.

  “What are you doing here?” Eva emerged from the bungalow as Frank climbed down the ladder. Her hair, whipped by the wind, stuck in her lip gloss. For a minute, Daniel lost his train of thought. He had to restrain himself from tucking the errant curl behind her ear. She was so pretty, even when anger puckered her forehead.

  “I was just making sure Frank is using cedar shingles.” He said the first thing that popped into his head.

  Frank walked toward his truck.

  “Hey? Frank?” Eva said to his retreating back. The roofer didn’t turn around but he held up a cell phone, indicating he was making a call.

  “He’s calling the builder about my second floor,” Eva said, confirming Daniel’s worst fears.

  “Shouldn’t you get those cottages in shape for paying customers fir
st?”

  Frank ambled back up to them. He nodded to Eva, handing Daniel a cedar shingle.

  Daniel sensed Eva bristle at the way her roofer took orders from him, so he didn’t ask Frank for the name of the general contractor he planned to bring on board. There were no general contractors in the area, except him. Frank would have had to go to someone in Port Huron. Daniel fought the urge to openly fume at this missed opportunity. Inside, he seethed. He should be in charge of renovating Blue Heaven. His notion that no second floor was needed should be the prevailing opinion.

  “These are the shingles for the cottages,” she said. “Right, Frank?”

  “Riggghhht,” Frank said, shaking his head and moving the ladder from the bungalow over to the closest cottage. He climbed atop and started tearing down shingles.

  “You’ll need a cottage to live in if you plan to remove your roof,” Daniel said. He was sure Frank had been preparing to tear off a huge chunk of her bungalow’s roof, and was silently thankful he’d averted disaster—for now.

  “Yeah,” she said, trying to be cheerful when he could tell by her tone that she was anything but happy about having to delay her crazy plan for that second story. Somehow he had to find a way to talk some sense into her.

  ****

  Eva turned from Daniel. He was wrong about the addition, wrong to deny her a loan, but right when it came to prioritizing the work. And he had a tragic past, which tipped the balance in his favor.

  She let her fists fall from her hips, raised one hand to shade her eyes as she took a good long look at the water winking in the late afternoon sun. As usual, just breathing in the big water, so endless it looked like an ocean, relaxed her. It wasn’t easy admitting, even to herself, that he was right, and that she’d been about to make a huge mistake.

  “Did Jane tell you I restore these places? The Bryman homes?” Daniel asked.

  His voice, so full of eager hope and so clearly showing his vulnerability, made her ache for him even without knowing the whole story of his past. It was kind of him to pretend she hadn’t been about to make a huge mistake by tearing the roof off her bungalow before she had a livable cottage to stay in.

  “Why are you so set on adding a second story to this house?”

  “It was my dad’s dream.” She turned away, looked again at the water. “Jane told me your great-grandfather designed and built this place. I think my great-grandpa helped him. Those are the family stories, anyhow, that he worked alongside the builder.”

  “I didn’t know that.” Daniel was quiet for a minute, the expression on his face going from thoughtful to cheery. “So if they worked together, we can too.”

  Eva had no idea what he was talking about, but before she could frame a question, he said, “I’d be happy to offer you the benefit of my experience renovating Bryman properties.”

  “Listen, Daniel, thanks for the offer. Really. It’s very generous of you. Except the problem remains. You don’t want me to build my second story.”

  “Why would you even want to? It was your dad’s dream. Is it your dream, too?”

  Not exactly, but it was a good Plan B. “Guests can gather for a glass of wine or to play a board game in front of a cozy fire on rainy days or cool evenings.”

  “Really? On vacation? People do that?”

  Her eyes turned from the water. He had taken off his glasses and was polishing them on his T-shirt.

  “In my family, aunts, uncles, cousins, we’d each choose a cottage, but everyone would congregate in the bungalow for meals and games, movies and reading.”

  “No brothers or sisters?” He put his glasses back on.

  “Only child.” She almost said “What about you?” but then let it go. They both turned toward the stairs leading up the bluff. After a few steps along the beach, Daniel stopped.

  “I admit I don’t like the idea of adding to an existing structure,” Daniel said. “But I’m also being practical. You need to make your first loan payment in two months. I didn’t like the terms of that contract. You could easily lose everything if you aren’t careful. I believe you’ll find that the money may not stretch as far as you think.”

  She was walking a bit ahead of him, so turned back to face him. “I appreciate your honesty. I have to admit you make some good points.” She dropped her gaze to the sand, dug the toe of her sneaker into it. “I know you’ve done lots of renovations in town, but have you ever tried to build an addition? Have you ever given modernizing and expanding an original design a shot?”

  “I built a second story once,” he said. “An airplane bungalow on Sugar Street. Completely gutted by fire. We knocked the burned out shell down and rebuilt it stick by stick.”

  She looked up at him. His face came alive when he talked about building. So different from that brick wall of an expression he wore at the bank. “But that house was designed as a two story. There’s a certain integrity to keeping to the original design.”

  “That’s what they call it? An airplane?”

  “Yeah. Or sometimes story and a half.”

  “Well, there you go. I only need a half on top. One big room.”

  She wanted to win him over. For some reason she didn’t understand, it seemed important that their visions align.

  He shook his head, not even glancing at the bungalow. “It’s your house. You do what you want with it. But be careful. Everything, electrical, plumbing, heat, it all costs twice what you think.”

  “How did you know I need all that work done?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been doing this a long time.”

  She wondered if he had a girlfriend. Apparently he and Jane were just business associates.

  “I know an electrician.” He took her arm when she tried to walk ahead again. His touch was gentle, her skin warmed under this soft request to stop and talk a minute more.

  “It’s a small town.” His hand dropped from her arm when he realized she would stay. She missed it a little bit. “Everybody knows everybody else. Including all their business.”

  Hmmm. She could ask Jane all about Daniel’s business when they went out for that bottle of wine.

  “These guys are competent. Dependable. There’s an excellent painter who restores wood and repairs plaster. We have a plumber in town who could use a paycheck. I even know a guy who will retrofit all your steam heaters so they work like modern but…”

  “Let me guess, maintain the original integrity.”

  She couldn’t help it, when he grinned and nodded, she smiled back at him. She understood him now. He really cared about these places his relative had designed and built way back when. There was something sweet about that. She might be in trouble, because something about him turned the key in her ignition. And revved it up.

  “I appreciate all your advice.” She wondered if he was thinking similar sexy thoughts about her. “But I have a budget and a timeframe, and unless your people are willing to work with my plan, I’ll find my own crew.” She spoke with authority, trying to keep a clear head around this guy who made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.

  “I’m sure whatever you’re planning, our local guys will try their hardest to accommodate you. Everyone could use the work, to be honest. And, like I said, I’m always happy to offer advice.”

  “Thanks.” She blinked in an effort to focus on his words and not his toned arms. She could see the muscles bulge and tighten right through his white T-shirt.

  ****

  “There’s an obese cat in your shed,” Bob, the paint and plaster guy, said. A full crew had shown up that morning and the cottages, if being turned inside out was any indication, were well on their way to restoration. Every cottage door was open, every little yard space had a set of tools lined up outside the door. Rotted wood and crumbling toilet seats, rusted pipes, a broken cupboard, all were being hauled and dumped into a giant green garbage bin by competent-looking men.

  Eva was just glad someone other than she had gone into the cobweb-ridden shed. Bob looked very young, but seemed in co
ntrol. He’d already set up the shed as construction headquarters, and she noticed that a lot of the guys conferred with him before ripping anything out of the cottages.

  “Whose cat?” Eva asked.

  “Yours,” Bob said.

  “Oh.” Eva mentally added cat food to her shopping list.

  “Keeps the rodent population down,” Bob said.

  After negotiating with these guys, she’d agreed to offer them what folks kept referring to as “day’s wages” which she finally figured out was one hundred dollars cash for every day they worked. A bargain, but after she’d struck it, she’d realized it didn’t include taxes. She’d figure how to pay taxes later. Meanwhile, time estimates were spot on. If all went well, the cottages should be ready for occupancy ahead of schedule. And then she could build her second story.

  As she handed Bob the paint chips she’d picked out for the cottages, a different pastel shade for each, she casually asked him how he knew Daniel.

  “He’s my brother,” Bob said, stuffing the paint samples into his back pocket and heading off to Port Huron for supplies.

  Eva took advantage of the gorgeous sunshine to walk on the beach. Nobody was out yet, the weather was too raw. Windy with a chill in the air. Well, maybe one other person was brave enough, she thought, her heart now beating faster as she recognized the figure running toward her. Daniel.

  Chapter Three

  His hair was short, so it didn’t ruffle at all in the wind, unlike her own, which flew all around her face. She caught the strands up in one hand and walked toward Daniel.

  Lake Huron churned and slapped against the rocky shore, imitating the way her heart churned in her chest. Daniel stopped in front of her, his mouth an easy grin, his words saying hello like they were old pals.

  She returned his greeting, noticed his muscled legs, his strong arms, his deep, rich breath. She really needed to get a grip. Her attraction had come on strong enough now that she figured he’d either ask her out, or he wouldn’t. And if he did, they’d fight over her addition, so it was better if he didn’t. Probably.

 

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