Stone Bridges

by Carla Neggers

  “She’s tired tonight. Rohan’s wearing her out. Enjoy your dinner.” He paused, those blue eyes connecting with hers. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Adam sat out on the guesthouse deck after Adrienne and Rohan headed back up to the house for dinner. Violet had collapsed in happy exhaustion after her frolic with the puppy. Rohan had seemed as pleased as Vic was to have Adrienne back in town. Adam couldn’t say the same for himself. He’d complicated his life by moving into Vic’s guesthouse. Wanting to kiss his daughter wasn’t helping. He’d expected to have it be a passing urge, but it wasn’t. At least not yet. He was attracted to her, and it was a problem.

  He reached down and patted his golden retriever’s wet coat. “We’re set in our ways, aren’t we, girl? No upsetting our applecart.”

  Adrienne Portale was a wanderer by nature and upbringing. She’d never stick in Knights Bridge. Her first week as an innkeeper had gone okay, but it hadn’t been uneventful. It wasn’t her fault the boys took off, but she and “eventful” went together, didn’t they?

  Adam didn’t need to complicate his life. He didn’t need trouble.

  But hell...he was attracted to her. He couldn’t deny or explain it.

  “Don’t need to.”

  He got up and ushered Violet back inside. He toweled off her paws and wiped off as much mud as he could. He’d brush her when she was dry, probably in the morning. It was getting dark now. Summer was winding down. He had a lot to do before it did, and not one item on his task list involved romancing the new innkeeper in town.

  He microwaved a burrito. He could have joined Vic, Elly and Adrienne for dinner, but he didn’t think it was a smart idea. As if to confirm his good judgment, his brothers turned up at the lake wanting to enjoy a last fire on the beach and beer before Labor Day and the unofficial end to summer. But Adam knew it was more than that. He, Justin, Brandon and Christopher had their eye on their eldest brother, Eric. He wasn’t himself. He’d been quiet and even withdrawn for much of the summer—and, lately, often sported a permanent three-days’ stubble, not his usual style. Something up with his police work? Adam had no idea.

  They built a fire, settled onto blankets and logs and watched the flames as Justin handed out bottles of beer. “Samantha picked it out,” he said. “It’s classier than the usual stuff we drink by a fire.”

  “But is it as good?” Christopher asked.

  Eric took a swallow of his beer. “Who cares?”

  That was their opening. Justin pounced first. “You want to tell us what’s going on, Eric?”

  He stared at the flames. “No.”

  Adam remained on his feet. He tried the beer. It was Belgian. He liked it. “You’re getting hard to be around, Eric,” he said finally. “It’s obvious something’s eating at you.”

  “But it’s okay if you don’t want to talk to us,” Christopher added.

  “The hell it is.” Eric popped to his feet, creating a long shadow in the firelit sand. “You’ll all hound me until I cough it up. Trish and I broke up. She moved to Atlanta.”

  He and Trish Vargas, a paramedic in nearby Amherst, had been engaged for months. Adam was the first to respond to the news. “Why Atlanta?”

  Eric shrugged. “New job.”

  “When did she leave?” Brandon asked.

  “Three weeks ago. Took the job two weeks before that. Gave notice, packed, left.”

  Justin put another log on the fire. “That sucks. Did she invite you to go with her?”

  “We both knew it wouldn’t work even if I could find a law enforcement job in Atlanta. I should have seen it coming. Her mother moved to Atlanta in the spring. Nothing keeping Trish here.”

  Except her fiancé, Adam thought. He noticed Christopher sinking cross-legged onto a blanket they’d spread on the sand. He’d been dealing with his own breakup with Ruby O’Dunn. He’d followed her out to LA thinking he might come home with her. He hadn’t. “Best this happened before you two got married,” he said.

  “I haven’t told Gran yet,” Eric said. “She likes Trish.”

  “She likes you better,” Brandon said.

  “She’ll remember that after she tells you that you let your engagement go on too long.” Justin stood back from the fire as it crackled with the fresh log. “You know Gran.”

  Eric gave a mock shudder. “She called it the everlasting engagement.”

  Justin grinned. “Don’t you love how she holds back, doesn’t say what she thinks?”

  Adam couldn’t suppress a grin of his own at the thought of their father’s widowed mother. In another thirty seconds, Eric grinned, too. As the firstborn, he held a special place in their grandmother’s heart. He also liked to tease her.

  “You could have said something to us,” Brandon said. “We’ve had our own go-rounds with women. Look at Maggie and me. We almost split up last year. I had to sleep in a damn tent for a while before I could soften her up.”

  Justin handed out more beer. Two each was the limit, but they nursed them for another hour before they let the fire die down. Eric perked up, his relief palpable now that his younger brothers had dragged his secret out of him. It wasn’t just the embarrassment of his broken engagement that had compelled him to hold back. Next to Adam, Eric was the most contained of the siblings, and he’d needed time to absorb the big change in his life. Trish was smart, attractive and dedicated to her work, and she was no longer going to walk down the aisle as his bride.

  By the time his four brothers were ready to leave, they had tackled a wide range of topics, including Knights Bridge’s pretty new innkeeper. Adam stayed neutral but he realized he wasn’t. If not for Vic being just up the hill, he’d have kissed her tonight. With her consent. He wasn’t a jackass. But she’d have said yes, and he’d have regretted it, because she had wanderlust just like Ruby O’Dunn and Trish Vargas.

  Eric hung back as Justin, Brandon and Christopher started up to their trucks. “Staying here’s working out?” he asked Adam.

  “So far, so good. Violet likes it.”

  “Only female you have to keep happy. Hell, maybe I’ll get a puppy.”

  After Eric left, Adam doused the remains of the fire with lake water and collected the bottles. No sister-in-law Trish after all. Not meant to be, he thought, heading back to the guesthouse with Violet.

  Ten

  Adrienne settled in at Carriage Hill for the long Labor Day weekend. With no guests, the antique house was quiet, but she noticed a handful of vehicles—more than usual—on the dead-end road, presumably hikers on their way into the Quabbin woods. No one ventured close to the inn’s backyard or startled a moose or a bear or anything else that affected her.

  She had Vic to dinner on Saturday and showed him around. “The addition’s quite nice,” he said. “It blends in beautifully with the house. It’s not easy to tell it’s two hundred years newer.”

  “Mark Flanagan did the design and Olivia’s family millworks matched the windows.”

  “Excellent craftsmanship, not that I’m an expert.” He stood by the back window in the innkeeper’s suite and nodded at the yard. “That’s the wall Adam’s redoing?”

  “Mm, yes,” Adrienne said.

  “He could redo a cathedral. He’s that good. He does quality work. He trained with the best, studied hard, worked hard to learn his craft. He does things on Adam time, but he does them well.”

  “What’s Adam time?”

  Vic smiled as he turned to her. “It’s not an insult. He’s deliberate. He works with the weather and juggles multiple projects, and he does things right the first time.”

  “Not a bad way to be.”

  Adrienne continued the tour, leading Vic up to the second floor. He liked what he saw here, too. She didn’t point out the stonework photographs—that would be too much talk of Adam and she didn’t want Vic to get the wrong impression. But he
noticed anyway. “That’s a bridge at the lake,” he said, stopping at the last of the photographs. “Recognize it?”

  She shook her head. “Where at the lake?”

  “Opposite the house. I used to walk out there, but I haven’t in ages. I should again. I need some exercise.” He peered more closely at the photograph. “Adam’s work? I didn’t know Adam was this good a photographer. How did I miss that? Did you know?”

  “Not until I saw these.”

  “They’re good.” Vic stood straight and nodded in agreement with himself. “Very good.”

  “I think so, too. He’s a solitary sort, isn’t he?”

  “That’s not possible for a Sloan.”

  Vic led the way downstairs and into the kitchen. It was a beautiful evening, and they decided to have dinner on the terrace. They worked together to set the table and carry out the simple fare of summer squash, local tomatoes with fresh basil, avocado and olive oil and rotisserie chicken from the country store.

  Vic placed the salad on the table. “When I first started coming to Knights Bridge twenty years ago, I couldn’t find a decent avocado in town.”

  “Life is full of changes.” Adrienne smiled at him as they sat at the table. It was a pleasant evening, with a slight, cool breeze. “I’ve even seen decent-looking artichokes at the country store.”

  “Imagine that. That must please your West Coast soul.”

  “Well, I’m sure not everyone cares whether we can get avocados and artichokes at all, never mind good ones. There are things I couldn’t get in California.” She poured the Kendrick Winery chardonnay she’d chosen for the evening. They raised their glasses. “To good times in Knights Bridge, and to time together.”

  Vic clinked her glass. “Cheers, Adrienne. Great to have you back.”

  They talked about innkeeping, Scrabble, how much he was enjoying the renovations at his lake house, the upcoming foliage season, Rohan—everything except their personal lives, his as a retired diplomat, hers as a single woman in little Knights Bridge. He dodged talking about his recent trip to Washington. Adrienne didn’t pursue it. They cleaned up after dinner together, and it was dusk when he finally said good-night. She stood on the kitchen steps as his car lights disappeared up the road.

  As she started inside, she could hear a rustling in the underbrush across the road. An animal of some sort but not a big one—not a moose or bear or even a deer, she decided. A squirrel, maybe. She shut the door behind her and noted the quiet of the old house. She didn’t mind being on her own for the rest of the evening. She wanted to settle in and get comfortable in this new space, and make sure she had a handle on its ins and outs as well before she started welcoming guests. She’d clean tomorrow but she was meeting with a local cleaning service first thing on Tuesday. She had a green light from Maggie and Olivia to get someone to clean the place on a regular basis, not just after events.

  By dark, she was tucked in bed with a book, windows open and more rustling sounds out back. She finally threw back the covers and peeked behind the shade, catching two deer running into the fields from the wall Adam was rebuilding. She smiled, left the shade open and crawled back into bed, pulling the covers around her, picturing what it would be like not to be here alone. But that got her nowhere, and she resumed reading her book.

  * * *

  Dark clouds and rain moved in on Sunday. Carriage Hill was damp and chilly enough that Adrienne was tempted to light a fire in the cozy living room, but it felt way too early in the season. She’d also have to fill the wood box. Which made her wonder...where was the cordwood? The garden shed? Surely Olivia hadn’t hauled wood that distance when she’d lived here.

  Well, it was something to do on a rainy Sunday morning.

  Adrienne donned her raincoat and made her way through the backyard to the shed. Sure enough, she discovered the remains of last season’s cordwood. That meant someone had to shovel a path to the shed in the winter. Sand it when icy. Make multiple trips out here to fill the wood box. Vic had a fireplace and had stored his cordwood on the front porch. During renovations, he’d had a lean-to built for the wood, easily accessible from the kitchen door.

  Something would have to be done about the wood, Adrienne thought, mentally adding it to her task list. Olivia and Maggie must have put it off given all the “musts” they had to figure out. An out-of-the-way wood box was probably a minor inconvenience to them. To Adrienne—she was out here in the rain, wasn’t she? It had to be moved.

  She collected six good-sized logs into her arms and started out of the shed. Her hood fell off the top of her head, but she didn’t mind—at least until she felt rain going down her back. She navigated a puddle in an area on the path that needed re-mulching. Then she stepped in another puddle she hadn’t seen given the wood in her arms.

  She heard a sound off to her right, by the field, and stopped short.

  A moose. Big, antlers, standing still on the other side of the stone wall, gazing at her as if she’d just landed from Mars.

  He won’t cross the stone wall, will he?

  Adrienne took a step on the path, toward the terrace, but the moose turned and moved on, lumbering into the woods and out of sight.

  She exhaled, shaking as much from being startled as actually encountering her first moose. She adjusted the logs in her arms—they were getting heavy—and took two steps toward the house, then slipped in the mud. She managed not to fall, but in the process of maintaining her balance, she dropped four logs. She held on to the two remaining logs, although she wasn’t quite sure how.

  “Not bad for a city girl,” Adam Sloan said, appearing in front of her in the rain.

  Adrienne gaped at him. He did have a way of turning up out of nowhere. “Where did you come from?”

  “Side yard. Just got here.” He walked to her—he had on a battered rain jacket—and picked up the dropped logs. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  “No. Did you see the moose?”

  “Yep. Big guy. He must be the one the boys saw.”

  “I’d have bolted, too, if I’d been in their shoes.”

  “You’re soaked,” he said.

  “Getting there.”

  He pointed to the logs in her arms. “Want me to carry those, too?”

  “I can manage. I can manage the ones you have—”

  “Not a problem.”

  They weren’t, either. She could see that. It wasn’t just a question of his size and strength but his familiarity with hauling cordwood. And he had the advantage of not being drenched. And not having slipped in the mud. And not having just done a stare-down with a bull moose.

  She followed him into the mudroom. He wasn’t as soaked as she was. He hadn’t been outside as long, but she wouldn’t be surprised if the rain just bounced off him. A joke, she told herself. She let him take her two logs. He set them on the floor by Buster’s dishes and stood straight. “There are towels—”

  “On the shelf above the dryer. I see. Thanks.” She peeled off her raincoat and hung it on a hook to drip-dry. “Carrying the logs was a last-minute decision. I wasn’t prepared. I was just checking where Olivia stores wood and figured I might as well grab some while I was out there. It’s my first time here in the rain.”

  Adam took a folded towel off the shelf and handed it to her. “First time for everything.”

  He didn’t strike her as amused or condescending, just trying to help if he could. Adrienne shook open the towel. “Not bad for a city girl, huh? Good point.”

  “And one from California at that.” He smiled. “I’m not laughing at you.”

  “Well, if you are, it’s fine, because...” She blotted her hair and dried her neck, but she couldn’t hold back and finally sputtered into laughter. “I can see the humor in my situation since I didn’t break an arm or twist an ankle. Rain, wood, moose, mud, puddles. Rugged local. I had it all, didn’t I?”

 
Adam picked a bit of wood off her arm. “Life in the country.”

  She wasn’t cold now, she thought. “Thanks for your help.”

  “Sure. Are you chilled? Do you want me to make tea or something?”

  She shook her head. “I’m okay. I’m already warming up.” Thanks to his touch, even just his presence. “I should change into dry clothes.”

  “And buy a proper raincoat.”

  “That, too. Is there anything you need from me?”

  “I stopped by to check on the wall. We’re getting more rain than I expected. I won’t be long.”

  “Take your time.”

  “I can fill your wood box if you’d like.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll just throw these logs into the wood box and leave it at that. I won’t be building a fire today.”

  He glanced at the logs at their feet. “There’s enough wood here at least to take the dampness out of the air. Do you have kindling?”

  She hung her towel on a hook. “I have no idea.”

  “Makes sense it didn’t come up yet. You’ve only been here a week and it’s still summer.”

  But he’d have considered kindling, cordwood and the rest of it. “I do know the chimney’s been cleaned for the season.”

  “That’s a plus,” he said. “I’d be glad to check things out. Give me five minutes.”

  He ducked out of the mudroom back outside. Adrienne left the wood where it was and went through the kitchen and down to her suite to change. The heat from being near him quickly dissipated. She was chilled. She pulled on leggings, a long-sleeved shirt and dry socks and ran the hair dryer on her wet hair for two minutes.

  She found Adam in the living room with the logs she’d grabbed in the shed. “Wall’s in good shape,” he said, placing the logs in the wood box by the fireplace. “You need a few things if you’re going to have a fire. I’ll drop them by when I’m back here on Tuesday. Can you wait until then?”

  “Sunny and in the upper seventies by then. I can wait. I can pull everything together myself, though.”