She returned to the house, got the keys to Vic’s old car and went out through the kitchen door, locking it behind her. She leaped behind the wheel and quickly yanked the door shut. She had no reason to suspect anything afoot in the woods adjoining the antique house. If she did, she’d talk to Olivia and Dylan—and Russ Colton.
But had she felt better having Adam around that morning?
It’s not that, she told herself.
She wasn’t used to not having neighbors on one whole side of where she lived. Just endless woods, and whatever was in them.
* * *
Adrienne drove to Echo Lake and parked next to Vic’s much nicer new car. She didn’t see Adam working on the damaged part of the wall. Vic had texted her about the delivery truck hitting it, before she’d arrived in town. This is what passes for excitement around here.
She’d thought he’d seemed amused, pleased, even, that his life wasn’t as intense as it had been during his decades with the US State Department. Now...well, she had her doubts and couldn’t help but wonder if he was as enthralled with retirement as he wanted to be.
She found him on the sprawling porch of his lake house, seated in a comfortable old chair with his iPad on his lap. She grinned at him. “You’re playing Scrabble, aren’t you?”
“Caught me. I’m losing and I have it on an easy setting.” He set the iPad on a small side table he’d painted years ago and rose, taking her by the hand and kissing her on both cheeks. “Hello, love.” He stood back, smiling at her, eyes crinkling with what she took as real affection and pleasure at seeing her. “Welcome to Knights Bridge.”
“Thanks, Vic. It’s great to be back.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you upon your arrival.”
“No problem. How was your trip?”
“Frightening.” He sat back down while she leaned against the wide rail. “I was asked to share my expertise at a seminar and a few private meetings and found myself almost wanting to go back to work.”
“Key word being almost?”
“You got that right. How was your first week on the job?”
She wasn’t convinced at the sincerity of his denial about not wanting to go back to work but let it go. “Everything’s going great. I’m glad it’s a quiet week—meaning no guests. Yesterday wasn’t quiet.”
“Ah, yes. Elly told me about the boys. She took their little adventure in stride. She knows her grandsons and found out after the fact. I think she’s more worried about Maggie. Doesn’t trust her when she says she’s fine.”
“The O’Dunns aren’t easily thrown off their game from what I’ve seen.”
“Had to be a scare for you, finding Maggie injured and then discovering the boys were missing. She must have been terrified.”
“She was. I didn’t have much of a chance to focus on my own emotions.”
“And Adam was there?”
“He arrived just after I found Maggie.”
“I can see you doing what you had to do. That’s one reason you’ll make a fine innkeeper.” Vic pointed at the iPad next to him. “I’ve been wrestling with voice-activated software all morning. Thought I’d like dictating my memoirs, but it’d be more fun dictating to a human being. I feel like I’m talking to myself, and the software’s still adapting to my voice. I said ‘gardening’ and it typed ‘regarding.’”
“I can see that happening.”
“I should stick to typing. I swear I think through my fingers.”
Adrienne noticed his iPad was open to the last of a Scrabble game between it and Vic. “Looks like you’re playing Scrabble to me.”
“I’m not procrastinating,” he said. “I’m taking a break. I’m pondering the first chapter of my memoirs.”
“Start with something exciting. Held at gunpoint, interrogated by cutthroat thugs. Then go back to how you got there and what’s next.”
He smiled up at her. “Being in a tense meeting won’t cut it?”
“You mean you were never held at gunpoint?”
“I’m a diplomat, not ex-CIA.”
“Well. Okay. Good luck.”
“Disappointed?”
“No, nor surprised.”
“But you don’t know who’d want to read my memoirs.”
“I didn’t say that—”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s not an exercise in ego. It’s...processing the past.”
“I think I can understand that.”
“I did intellectually at your age. Now it’s at the gut level. Most of what I did isn’t terribly interesting but some of it mattered. Rohan, did you say hi to Adrienne? Watch out. He’s been rolling wet in sand.”
“So I see,” she said as Vic’s adorable, rambunctious puppy came up to her, his tail wagging. Vic had cleaned him off but he was still wet, with sand stuck to his soft coat. She petted him and said hello. “Golden retrievers do love the water.”
“I told him he could have a swim in the lake provided he didn’t roll in the dirt afterward. I need to remember he’s still a puppy.”
“At least he didn’t run off.”
“Small favors. He ran off often enough as a little pup.”
Rohan had been dropped out by the lake as a ten-week-old puppy, and Vic, who’d never had pets, had adopted him. Adrienne had been house-sitting then and had done what she could to help, including collecting puppy-training books from the library. She’d missed the rascal while she’d been in California.
Vic watched Rohan flop beside his chair and then eyed her. “What’s on your mind, Adrienne?”
“Nothing. Well, life in the country. Do you ever get nervous up here by yourself?”
He shrugged. “I was here for a nasty thunderstorm about fifteen years ago. It scared the devil out of me.” He got to his feet again and stood next to her. They looked out at the impressive view of the lake glistening in the late-summer midday sun. “You and I are used to different lives than the ones we have here.”
“That’s the idea, isn’t it? We wanted something different.”
“Life in small-town New England is definitely different,” Vic said.
Adrienne spotted a pair of ducks out on the lake. So peaceful. “Knights Bridge was a break for you for twenty years. Now it’s—”
“Forever.”
She shot him a look. “Come on, Vic. You sound as if you’ve just been sentenced to life in prison.”
“Do I? I don’t mean to.” He sighed at the view. “I’m an ungrateful sod. I couldn’t ask for more than what I have here. It’s perfect.”
“The renovations worked out well.”
“The Sloans did a great job,” Vic said. “The plans kept everything that works about the house and zeroed in on what needed to be updated and changed. It kept the character.”
“The Sloans are good at what they do.”
“So are you. I’d have skipped the wine cellar but I’m loving it.”
“See? Told you.”
“Yes, you did,” he said with a laugh.
Adrienne left him to his iPad and puppy and went inside to prepare lunch. Vic had everything organized. Maybe he was bored, but if he was, she thought it was largely because he was adapting to retirement more slowly than he wanted to or had expected he would.
He’d set out a nice New Zealand sauvignon blanc for lunch. She decided a small glass wouldn’t ruin her for work that afternoon. She set lunch on a tray and took it out to the porch. Rohan was passed out in a sunny spot. Vic helped her set up lunch on a small table. They enjoyed the chicken salad, grapes, cucumbers, pickles and wine while chatting about the latest goings-on in town—weddings, babies, new businesses—and how her new job was shaping up. She told him about the innkeeper’s suite and the busy fall season ahead, and what she planned to put into place to ease the burden on Maggie and Olivia—and ultimately herself as their first-ever
innkeeper. Vic listened with interest.
“And you, Vic?” she asked him. “What are your plans now that cooler weather is upon us?”
“I can watch the leaves turn while I write my memoirs and play Scrabble.”
“You went from assignment to assignment for forty years. It’s an adjustment to go from that kind of life to being settled in one place. I think I inherited your nomadic spirit. Any regrets about your career as a diplomat?”
“Besides not knowing I had a daughter?”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“It’s not a question of fault, or maybe it is. I’m glad you’re here now. I’m glad I’m here with you. How we got here...” He smiled wistfully, raising his wineglass. “The stuff of memoirs.”
“It beats describing how you burned up fax machines and glared like no other diplomat in US history.”
“We did have a fax machine start smoking on us once. Had to buy a new one.”
They laughed together, and when they finished lunch, they cleaned up the dishes together. Adrienne could have sat out on the porch with him and finished the bottle of wine, but they put the rest of it away—“for later,” Vic said.
He returned to his chair on the porch. “I take a twenty-minute nap after lunch as a rule and have for decades, but I think it’ll be longer today. Tiring flight. I don’t sleep on planes the way I used to.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then.”
She wasn’t ready to go back to the inn and Rohan wasn’t about to let Vic nap. She took him down to the lake. He didn’t have the ambition to go into the water and found a rock to chew on instead. She’d been surprised how much she’d missed this place after she’d moved back to California to work at the winery. As she came to the lakefront, she realized she shouldn’t have been surprised. It was beautiful here. She’d come to love Vic, Rohan, the lake itself—and the town, this pretty blip on the map.
A breeze blew across the lake, strong enough to lift the ends of her hair. Rohan leaped up without warning and charged into the water. Something had caught his eye but she couldn’t see what. Then he did a wide turn and swam back to her, a sodden chunk of wood in his mouth. He must have spotted it floating in the choppy water.
“Now, don’t shake off on me.” She got him to sit, at least more or less. He dropped the stick on command, if only to get her to pick it up and throw it for him. He was so eager, how could she resist? “Here you go,” she said, flinging the stick out into the water.
He bounded off after it, spraying sand and water from his soaked coat. Vic had threatened to have Rohan’s long golden hair clipped after catching him on the couch one time too many, but Adrienne and Elly O’Dunn had persuaded him not to. Puppy training wasn’t on the list of Vic’s many skills, but Rohan was doing fine, if not about to win any dog-obedience awards.
“He never gets tired of chasing sticks, does he?”
Adrienne recognized Adam’s voice and turned as he strode down to the lake. “I didn’t realize you were here,” she said. “I didn’t see your van up by the house.”
“I parked at the guesthouse.”
“Are you working on a stone wall there, too?”
He picked up a stone lodged in the sand and flung it into the water, far enough from Rohan and the stick he was fetching not to distract him. Adam watched the ripples from where his stone hit the water. “No,” he said. “Just the one on the driveway.”
Adrienne frowned. “I see. Collecting rocks down here? Taking a break?”
He shook his head and turned to her, his blue eyes steady. “I live here. Worked it out with Vic.”
She stared at him. He lived here? She took a moment to absorb his words. “In the guesthouse?”
“Right.”
“Since when?”
“I moved in a few weeks ago.”
“I see. I didn’t realize.”
He kept his gaze on her. “Do you mind?”
She shifted from that penetrating gaze and watched Rohan swim back to shore. She was at a loss. It was Vic’s property, not hers, but couldn’t he have said something? But why should he? Why would he? She’d told him she planned to live in the innkeeper’s suite when she took the job. He’d been getting ready to go out of town. He hadn’t said much about it but it had to have been on his mind.
“Sorry.” She cleared her throat, pushing back her surprise. She was more taken aback no doubt because it was Adam who was at the guesthouse, not someone else from town or even one of Vic’s former colleagues. “Whatever you and Vic worked out is between you two.”
“I assumed you knew. I’m repairing the stone wall and doing a few other things for him, and looking after the place when he’s away. It’s temporary but I like it out here.”
“Who wouldn’t? It’s up to Vic. He can do what he wants.”
“You mind,” Adam said.
“I’m surprised. That’s all. I love this spot. It’s obvious you do, too.”
“I can’t imagine anyone not loving it. Vic said he’d tell you about our arrangement, but it probably slipped his mind.” He paused, as if to let it sink in that he was being charitable about Vic. “I was bunking with my folks after flipping a house. It was a fixer-upper. I fixed it up and sold it. I was here to check on the wall that got hit and Vic suggested I move into the guesthouse until I figure out what’s next.”
“Makes sense.” It did, didn’t it? Why was she feeling so ridiculously off balance? It had to be Adam. She wouldn’t have been nearly as frayed if Vic had offered the guesthouse to one of Elly O’Dunn’s younger daughters, or Eric or Christopher Sloan—or anyone else in Knights Bridge.
Rohan capped her sudden sense of not belonging here by running up to Adam instead of her, wagging his tail, stick in mouth. Adam patted the eager puppy, who wasn’t relinquishing the stick. “Rohan’s a great dog,” he said.
“I missed him when I was in California.” Adrienne smiled past her weird sense of hurt. “I missed Vic, too.”
“You have family out there, don’t you?”
“In Northern California. My mother is on the go with her business and my dad—he didn’t know Vic was my father, either. We’re sorting out a few things, as you can imagine.”
Adam nodded without comment. Definitely a man of few words. He got Rohan to be still and let go of the stick, but he didn’t throw it into the lake. Rohan didn’t object and flopped into the grass at the edge of the small sandy beach, then promptly rolled onto his back.
“Where’s Violet?” Adrienne asked.
“Napping. She’s not as young as Rohan.” He left it at that. “I’ll be back at the inn in a little while. That okay with you?”
“No problem. It’s been quiet. I haven’t seen anyone or anything out back, including the moose.”
“Having Buster and Violet around probably helps with the wildlife.”
She smiled, brushing windswept hair out of her face. “I can always take Rohan with me.”
“Rohan, huh?” Adam managed a quick smile. “He’d be a big help.”
“He’d charm hikers and moose alike.”
Adrienne thanked Adam—although she wasn’t sure why—and convinced Rohan he needed to go with her back up to the house. She returned him to the porch and started to say goodbye to Vic, but he was snoozing, iPad on his lap.
She stood by her car a moment, watching the waves on the lake, stirred up by the wind. She loved this place on the small, quiet New England lake, but she felt no sense of entitlement to it whatsoever. If Vic wanted to work out an arrangement with Adam Sloan for the guesthouse, that was their business. She had no say or interest and probably shouldn’t have an opinion, but she did wish Vic had told her. It wasn’t as if he’d chosen a stranger over her. He knew Adam better than he knew her.
The suite at Carriage Hill could be used for guests. She didn’t have to live there. It wasn’t a requ
irement.
For sure she would feel less awkward and on edge if Vic had someone other than Adam living in the guesthouse.
“For sure,” she repeated out loud.
“For sure what?” Vic asked as he came out to the driveway.
She turned from the lake and smiled at him. “Just talking to myself. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Nah, not at all. Restless?”
“Not at the moment. Adam told me he’s living at the guesthouse.”
“For now.” Vic paused, looking guilty. “He’s handy to have around.”
“I’m sure he is. All the Sloans are handy. I’m better at finding people to do things than I am at doing them myself.”
“You and me both. I remember the stonemason Adam apprenticed with. Crusty old loner but damn good at his work.”
“You’ve known the people around here for a long time,” Adrienne said.
“I have, yes. I got busy and didn’t get around to telling you about Adam. I should have, but it wasn’t a thing. I wasn’t hiding it. I just didn’t think to tell you.”
“Not a problem.” She opened her car door but didn’t get in. “Let me know if I can help with your memoirs.”
“You could end up being my only reader.”
She noticed an edge to his voice despite his attempt at self-deprecating humor. “I understand you’ve agreed to speak at one of Dylan McCaffrey’s entrepreneurial boot camps. You have a lot to offer on how to navigate the world.”
“A good Scotch, a good pair of walking shoes and a good heart.”
“There you go. That could be the subtitle for your memoirs.”
He responded with what sounded to her like a genuine laugh. His dark eyes sparkled. “Good one.” He motioned up toward the house. “I’ll get back to it. See if I can teach that software to understand my voice. I’m in better spirits since I made a seven-letter word in my Scrabble game.”
Relieved at his good mood, Adrienne said goodbye and got in the car. As she drove away from the lake, past Elly O’Dunn’s farm and through the village, she felt at once a stranger in Knights Bridge, and at home.
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