There was something to be said for that level of guts, gall and certainty, Adrienne supposed.
Once she’d admitted her affair with Vic, her mother had hinted her decision to keep silent hadn’t been impulsive or without cost. It must have been a lonely plight, even for such a strong, successful woman. Her marriage had failed. Vic had gone on to a stellar diplomatic career. She’d launched a marketing business and had thrown herself into the work, doing well, never remarrying. These days she was in a relationship with a corporate executive, but there didn’t seem much passion involved. Adrienne sometimes wondered if her mother had learned to keep such a thing at arm’s length.
It wasn’t as if she still carried a torch for Vic Scarlatti after all this time.
If she ever had carried a torch for him.
What’s done is done, Adrienne.
Vic had endured a few dark nights of the soul when he’d learned he had an adult daughter last winter. I never had a clue you were mine. Never. I swear, Adrienne.
She believed him.
She became aware of Olivia eyeing her. “Are you okay?”
“Sorry. Mind wandering.”
“Understandable after this afternoon,” Olivia said without hesitation. “I’m glad you and Adam found the boys before nightfall. Maggie held it together pretty well, but I know she was worried they’d end up spending the night in the rain, even with the entire town out looking for them. We didn’t find any sign of a hiker or camper who could have startled the moose. That’s just as well, in my opinion. It’s unlikely anyone’s out there pitching a tent for the night.”
“That works for me,” Adrienne said.
“Camping’s not allowed on Quabbin land, or ours without permission. I’m sorry Maggie got banged up. And Tyler. He’s going to have a good bruise on his leg to start school.”
Olivia was obviously tired. “I should get back,” Adrienne said.
“Do you want Dylan to give you a ride?”
“It’s not far. I’m happy walking.”
“Dylan can walk with you—”
“I’m fine, thanks. I’m just relieved all’s well.”
Olivia started to get up but paused, taking a moment to find her balance, breathe, steady herself and then straighten. She smiled happily. “I used to bounce to my feet, but best I take my time.”
“Especially when there are stone steps involved.”
“I got dehydrated earlier this summer and keeled over. I didn’t get hurt, but it was a wake-up call to drink more water. I’m not a hothouse flower, just mindful of where I am with this pregnancy.” Olivia stood upright and placed a hand on her lower back, stretching. “Maggie and I are thrilled to have you here, Adrienne. Speak up about anything you need, any ideas you might have. Don’t hesitate, okay? Dylan’s around, too.”
“I will. I’m thrilled to be here. Thanks.”
Adrienne waited as Olivia went inside. Everything about the house and barn from materials to landscaping was designed to blend into the quiet area of rolling hills, fields and woodlands. She couldn’t imagine a more perfect spot for the McCaffreys to welcome their first child.
Halfway back to the inn, the rain started, just a few drops at first. Adrienne ducked inside and watched out the window above the kitchen sink as more rain fell, soaking into the lush lawn.
She didn’t see so much as a chipmunk, let alone a moose.
* * *
During a break in the rain, Adrienne dashed outside and picked a few sprigs of parsley to add to her leftover minestrone soup. She loved the idea of having herbs growing in her backyard. Somehow fresh parsley made her meal seem more festive. It was dripping wet but she rinsed it off anyway and blotted it dry with paper towels.
She’d just found kitchen scissors in a drawer when Olivia called to invite her to dinner. “I’m so sorry. I should have said something when you were up here.”
“Not a problem. We’re all worn out. I have on my fuzzy slippers.”
Olivia laughed. “Do you really own fuzzy slippers?”
“A half-dozen pairs of wool socks. I’m working on the fuzzy slippers.” She stirred the soup. “Thanks for the invitation.”
“Rain check,” Olivia said.
After she hung up, Adrienne snipped the parsley and added a handful to her soup. Maggie had dropped the soup off earlier in the week as a welcome. Much appreciated on Adrienne’s part. She’d finish it off tonight.
She poured the rest of a Willamette Valley pinot noir she’d opened last night and sat at the kitchen table with her soup. Maggie had added late-summer vegetables from her mother’s garden. The inn had a small vegetable garden that she and Olivia wanted to expand. Adrienne loved their imagination and energy. Right now she was focused on getting day-to-day operations more under control.
The soup was even better tonight, if only because she was starving after the adrenaline rush of the missing boys. She’d spent many evenings alone house-sitting for Vic last winter, but she’d been so caught up in her emotions at having discovered he was her father that she had paid little attention to the quiet and beauty of the small town he’d made his own.
The rain picked up. A breeze fluttered through a maple tree in the front lawn.
Adrienne smiled. What a spot Olivia had chosen for herself when she’d bought this place. As imaginative as she was, she hadn’t pictured herself meeting a man like Dylan McCaffrey, marrying him...having a baby with him...
As much as Adrienne wanted to be here in Knights Bridge, tackling innkeeping, she could feel her old restlessness stirring. She’d always been a tumbleweed. She’d probably always be a tumbleweed. Olivia and Maggie had known that about her when they’d hired her. Had they thought their attractive hometown would work its magic on her?
She saw she had a text message from Vic. He’d be back in the morning. Any excitement in sleepy Knights Bridge?
Ah...what to tell him? She realized how much she was looking forward to seeing him and typed a quick response. I’ll tell all when you get back.
Intrigued.
Safe travels.
But as she finished her wine, she knew she wouldn’t tell Vic everything about today. She’d skip the part about her attraction to Adam Sloan. All in all, she was proud of how she’d handled herself today, and that was all Vic needed to know.
She finished her soup, locked all the doors and headed to her suite, appreciating the peacefulness of her surroundings. She’d change into her warm, comfy pj’s, pour another glass of wine and enjoy the quiet, rainy evening.
Only her mother called.
Adrienne tied her flannel pajama bottoms. “Mom,” she said, answering her phone.
“What’s wrong?”
She smiled. Leave it to Sophia Portale to zero in on her daughter’s state of mind. “Nothing. Just pouring wine and settling in for the night. We’re three hours later here. But it has been a day.” She explained what had happened. “It all worked out. Just about everyone in town was ready to get out in the woods.”
“That’s great. About the town, I mean, not the situation itself. And you haven’t been there a week. Well, no wonder you’ve poured wine. Is Vic joining you?”
“He’s out of town. I haven’t seen him since I got here.”
“Oh. I see. Well.” Her mother cleared her throat. “None of my business.”
“I’m not abandoning you for him—”
“Of course you aren’t. That never occurred to me. I was surprised you took this job, but it’s your choice. You like it so far?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. Her mother would have noticed. “It’s cool and raining.”
“And you’re not feeling restless.”
“Not really.” Not yet, she almost said.
Her mother sighed. “It’s been quite a year for you,” she said.
“It sure has. How are you?”
&nbs
p; “I’ve joined a CrossFit gym. I need to work on strength training. It’s two blocks from the house. That’ll help me be consistent.”
“Good for you, Mom. I’m working on adding some fitness equipment at the inn, but it’s not a priority.”
They chatted for several minutes. A few highlights of her life suited her mother in phone conversations. She preferred deeper in-person talks, not that any were planned. Her life was filled with work, work-related socializing and exercise. But she and Adrienne were close in their own way.
“I’m glad you called, Mom.”
“It’s always good to talk with you. Call anytime.”
After they hung up, Adrienne pulled the shades, rain striking the windows, her wine awaiting her in the kitchen. At least there was no sign of a moose in the yard—or a certain rugged stonemason.
Five
Adam dropped off the dinosaurs at Brandon and Maggie’s house, a fixer-upper off South Main in the village. It was raining when he went inside. His hand hurt like hell but it’d be okay. He’d had a mad urge to kiss Adrienne Portale when they were together in the inn’s kitchen but it was just as well he hadn’t. She was Vic’s daughter. Carriage Hill’s new innkeeper. He didn’t think she’d have turned him away. Washing the dinosaurs in the kitchen, drying them and bundling them up, he’d sensed she’d been thinking about kissing him, too. But it’d been a weird day, so maybe not.
Brandon gave him some ibuprofen for his hand. He and Maggie were just back from the hospital where she had her head looked at—she got stitches but there was no concussion, at least. Christopher had hung out with the boys but had now left for the firehouse. Maggie was raging. Adam wasn’t surprised given her personality and the scare she’d had. The boys were watching a movie while she “rested,” but she was at the kitchen table, barely able to stay seated. “I’ve had it with those damn dinosaurs. Next time the boys can pull weeds for entertainment. They get lost in their fantasies. If they’d been doing something useful, they wouldn’t have freaked out about a moose and taken off in the wrong direction.”
“They might have freaked out more if they were bored out of their minds pulling weeds,” Brandon said.
Adam wasn’t getting in the middle of this one. Brandon dumped the dinosaurs out of the towels onto the table. He unearthed a velociraptor and stood it on the table in front of Maggie. “I don’t know. The boys would come across worms and slugs weeding. That could fire up their imaginations, too, maybe more so than this baby since worms and slugs are real. Might run into a snake while weeding, too. You come across snakes in your work, don’t you, Adam?”
“Sometimes.”
He decided not to mention he’d almost stepped on a garter snake in the pile of rocks and old mortar behind the new addition at Carriage Hill. He hadn’t said anything to Adrienne, either. Moose and bears were enough to have on her mind without adding snakes.
Maggie was unmoved. “I don’t care. The boys wouldn’t think a slug is a dinosaur.”
Her eyes were sunken, the toll of her head injury evident—if not to her. Adam spotted a saltasaurus with his name printed in black marker on its belly and edged it deep into the pile of dinosaurs. He saw a couple of others from his boyhood days. He hadn’t saved them. His mother, maybe? Christopher? Heather? Didn’t matter. Adam wasn’t going to expose more Sloans to Maggie’s wrath.
“The boys can’t live in a bubble,” Brandon said. “They knew what to do when the moose saw them and then when they realized they made a wrong turn. It worked out.”
“Imagine if they’d come across a fox or a bear or a fisher cat—”
“Or a pissed-off squirrel.”
Maggie glared at her husband. “Do not make fun of me, Brandon Sloan.”
“I’m not. I’ve stumbled on pissed-off squirrels. They can get nasty.”
She sputtered into a reluctant laugh and shoved the velociraptor at him. He grinned at her and returned the dinosaur to his pals on the table.
“You haven’t had stitches in years,” Adam said. “There was that time in high school—”
Maggie moaned. “That was Brandon’s fault.”
Of course. Adam smiled. “Figures.”
“It was your fault, wasn’t it, Brandon?”
He shrugged. “It was an accident but yeah—my fault. I’ve got to own that one. Hatchet slipped out of my hand while I was trimming cordwood and the blade embedded itself in your thigh.”
“Ten stitches,” Maggie said.
“Could have been worse,” Brandon said.
They’d be fine, Adam thought. He left them in the kitchen and stopped in the living room to check on the boys. They were engrossed in their movie—no surprise it was about dinosaurs. Their favorite topic these days. He cleared out. The rain had faded to drizzle but would pick up again.
Brandon followed him out to the street. “Thanks for today, Adam.”
“Sorry I wasn’t there when the boys ran into the moose.”
“One of those things. Adrienne seemed to handle the situation well.”
“Yeah. She was steadier than I’d have expected after the drama last winter with Vic.”
“Pretending she was just the daughter of an old friend who was willing to house-sit for him. I guess I don’t blame her for wanting to see what he was like before telling him she was his daughter. Think she’ll last at Carriage Hill?”
“I haven’t thought about it.”
“I wonder how Vic feels about having her here.”
Adam shrugged. “He’s out of town. He hasn’t seen her since she arrived. Seemed fine about it when he left.”
“Maggie’s happy with her. Olivia, too. Guess that’s what counts.”
“Maggie will have a hell of a headache tomorrow.”
Brandon nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “You got that right. Thanks for everything today. Good you found the boys. What made you think they were in the cellar hole?”
“It’s where we’d have gone at their age.”
“No moose around here back then.”
Brandon went back inside. Adam headed to his van. He could feel the ibuprofen starting to work on his hand. It’d be fine by morning. He hadn’t realized Brandon had harbored similar reservations to Adrienne’s return to Knights Bridge—as someone more likely to cause trouble than to resolve trouble. He took her actions today as a positive sign. Olivia and Maggie needed someone with enough confidence and backbone to get the workload at the inn organized and delegated. Maggie in particular wasn’t what anyone would call a master delegator. Her tendency to take on too much had contributed to a months-long separation and near-divorce, but Brandon, an adrenaline junkie with dreams, had made his own contributions. Adam appreciated his sister-in-law’s can-do nature and his brother’s high energy. He was glad they had decided to stay together. Today hadn’t seemed to stir up old grievances between them.
He got in his van and started the engine. He pictured Adrienne as she’d pushed back her dark hair with one hand, her eyes shining, her mouth full and...
Yeah. Best he’d resisted. He didn’t need to be the one causing trouble. Brandon was still on high alert. He’d have figured out what’d happened in a heartbeat, and Adam didn’t need that. Neither did Adrienne.
The drizzle changed to rain again on his drive out to Echo Lake, past the small farm where Maggie’s widowed mother, Elly O’Dunn, had extensive vegetable gardens and kept a dozen or so goats. She had a tendency to overdo, too. She and Vic Scarlatti had become friends over the years, even more so since he’d retired and moved to Echo Lake full-time. If it was more than a friendship, they were doing a good job keeping it a secret. Adam doubted it was, at least at this point. Vic and Elly both needed friends, good neighbors. They would be hesitant to risk what they had by introducing romance.
His take, anyway, Adam thought. But what did he know?
He made the tight tu
rn onto Vic’s winding driveway. The classic 1912 Arts and Crafts lake house was silhouetted against the stormy sky, situated above the lake amid evergreens and mature shade trees. Vic had owned the property for twenty years but had only gotten around to much-needed renovations after he retired. He’d hired Sloan Construction. Heather had overseen the initial work, and Adam had restored and rebuilt much of the stonework at the house and added a wine cellar—per wine expert Adrienne Portale’s specifications.
He’d had some pleasant conversations with her before she’d headed west to work at Noah Kendrick’s winery. He’d definitely noticed she was attractive, energetic and sorting out her life. He figured the sorting out had to do with her career, maybe a romantic breakup. He’d been as surprised as everyone else in town that she was Vic Scarlatti’s daughter, unbeknownst to Vic.
Work on the sprawling lake house had been a fun project, and Vic an easy client. The renovations had gone faster than expected, in part because Vic had moved into his guesthouse and let the construction crews do their jobs without micromanaging and time-intensive changes. Do your thing, ladies and gentlemen was Vic’s mantra. He’d moved back into the main house in early August, ahead of schedule. That had turned out to be perfect timing for Adam. He’d just flipped a house in town and was bunking with his folks until he figured out whether he wanted to flip another house or settle down somewhere. Vic offered to give him a break on rent in return for looking after the place and repairing a stone wall by the driveway that a delivery truck had slid into after a summer deluge.
Their arrangement hadn’t been part of any grand plan but instead a spur-of-the-moment decision. Adam had stopped by to check on a stone wall that needed repairing and found Vic playing Scrabble on his iPad on the front porch overlooking the lake, and they’d struck a deal.
Done, just like that.
Adam parked at the guesthouse, tucked among evergreens close to the lake. It was small, only about forty years old. It had never been much structurally. He didn’t consider the two-bedroom cottage worth renovating, but if Vic ever got to the point of sinking some money into it, Justin would make that decision. He was the head carpenter with Sloan Construction. Adam knew carpentry but he didn’t have his brother’s expertise. He looked after the company’s finances and he did stonework. Full stop.
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