“Because of Vic or the ex-boyfriend?”
“Not the ex. We only saw each other for a short time, and it never worked. No, I wasn’t in a good place because of me. Vic had no idea. I regret not being more forthcoming with him from the start, and with Heather, too. We worked closely with each other planning Vic’s renovations.”
“She had Brody to distract her,” Adam said. “She understands where your head was then. How forthcoming were you with yourself?”
“Not very. The truth is, I didn’t know if I’d tell Vic he was my father. I didn’t know how I felt. I told myself I wanted to get to know him before I said anything. That I didn’t want to mess up his life. That I needed to hold back in case I discovered something about him that made me not want to tell him. I didn’t know how my parents would react, especially my mother. It felt more her secret than mine. But she told me not to consider that, and to do what I wanted to do.”
Adam studied her a moment. “Did that make it tougher, knowing you couldn’t leave it to her and had to make the decision yourself?”
She frowned at him. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but yes—at first, at least. But I never had a firm plan. I just seized the moment to house-sit and went from there.”
“You read the situation and decided on your next steps based on that information.”
She nodded. “That sounds quite sensible when you say it.”
“You had a lot of needles to thread,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact.
“I’m not indecisive most days. I couldn’t have become a successful wine blogger and consultant if I were, but I admit I was thrown when I found out about Vic. But I wasn’t thirteen. I could have been more adult about my choices.”
Adam steadied his gaze on her. She noticed warmth—empathy—in his Sloan blue eyes. “Vic got a great wine cellar out of the deal, and he got you.”
She swallowed despite the tightness in her throat. “It didn’t have to be so messy for him.”
“He’s an adult, too. Life can get messy. We’re none of us perfect.”
“The Sloans seem like a tight-knit family.”
“We are, maybe to a fault. We have our disagreements.”
“I suppose that’s not unexpected with six siblings.”
“That’s what Gran says. When push comes to shove, we have each other’s backs, and we know it.”
“Two of you got married to Knights Bridge newcomers this past year. How are Samantha and Brody fitting in?”
“Brody doesn’t give a damn if he fits in. He’s all about Heather. As it should be.”
“But you like having him as your brother-in-law?”
“Yeah.” Adam didn’t seem as if he’d given it much thought. “He wasn’t in good graces with us big brothers when Heather got involved with him, but we worked it out.”
“Vic says she’s as hardheaded as the guys in your family.”
Adam smiled. “More so.”
“Are you competitive with each other?”
“Nah. We worked all that out as kids. Eric sometimes feels the need to be perfect but that’s in his head. I have no problem if he proves to be human once in a while.”
“He’s a police officer, too. He was great when the boys took off. If we hadn’t found them when we did, he’d have pounced. The whole town would have pounced,” Adrienne added, knowing it was true. “What about you—do you let people see your vulnerabilities? Do you have secrets that even your brothers don’t know about?”
“Like having lunch with you? Should that be a secret?”
Adrienne sighed. “I should have known you wouldn’t be serious. There’s a difference between a secret and something that’s no one’s business.”
Adam grinned at her and pushed his empty plate aside. “That means you don’t want the rest of Knights Bridge to know we’ve got something going on between us?”
“I don’t think I was hired to get involved with Maggie’s brother-in-law.”
“Want me to get her permission?”
“No! I don’t need her permission.”
He got to his feet and walked around the table to her. “Don’t worry, Adrienne. I’m not going to mess things up for you here. Not without your okay, anyway,” he added lightly. Before she could figure out how to respond, he leaned over and kissed her softly on her forehead. “I enjoyed having wine with you yesterday, and I enjoyed lunch. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
He smiled, as if he knew the effect he was having on her, and stood straight. “Great job on the pesto. Maggie and Olivia will be happy to know their basil isn’t all going to seed. I need to get up to my folks’ place to do some work at the office. Okay if I leave you with the dishes?”
“Of course. Adam...” She touched his wrist, noticed the smashed hand had healed well. “I’m trying to be patient and deliberate for once.”
“Yeah. I get it.”
He left abruptly, and as Adrienne collected the dishes onto a tray and took them into the kitchen, she felt her knees wobble from the shock of pure awareness. Adam hadn’t left because he had things to do, although he probably did. He’d left because he’d wanted more than a quick kiss and then off to do the dishes. An image of him carrying her into her innkeeper’s suite on the cool, breezy afternoon brought her up short.
She breathed, settling herself down, and then she got busy cleaning up the kitchen and readying the inn—and herself—for the eight friends arriving that weekend.
* * *
The next two days, Adrienne focused on her work, escaping to Echo Lake late on Thursday to visit Vic. He was wrestling with his voice-activated software again and muttering about his latest Scrabble loss. They walked Rohan together, enjoying the cooler weather and the hints of autumn. They didn’t run into Adam. But he stopped by the inn the next morning with the promised fire supplies. He had Violet with him this time. She slipped into the mudroom to finish food left in Buster’s dish.
“My kind of dog,” Adrienne said as Violet returned to Adam’s side in the living room.
He stood up from the small copper kettle he’d filled with kindling. “Violet’s her own kind of bold. Good luck this weekend.”
“My first big event.”
“It’ll be great. Want me to fill the wood box while I’m here? Your guests will want a fire tomorrow night for sure. It’s going to get chilly.”
Adrienne nodded. “Cold enough to do in the basil.”
They collected wood together and got the wood box filled in just a few trips to the shed. She thanked him for his help, and he didn’t linger. Work beckoned. He had to take the weather into account, too, even more than she did at the inn.
Lisa Zalewski and her cleaning crew arrived shortly after Adam left and finished their work just before the first two friends parked under the Farm at Carriage Hill sign. Adrienne greeted them warmly, confident she was ready for their weekend get-together. Felicity would stop by soon to check on everything. Maggie was in good shape to do the food, and Olivia would be around if needed.
And so it was.
The weekend flew by, and on Sunday night, Adrienne sank onto the floor in the living room in front of a toasty fire. The friends’ get-together had earned rave reviews from all eight women as they’d loaded up their cars and departed. At the same time, it also revealed a few gaps in Carriage Hill’s workings—not unexpected, Adrienne thought as she stretched out her legs, her stocking feet almost touching the hearth.
Maggie and Olivia burst into the house and made their way into the living room. “We’re celebrating,” Maggie said. “I brought wine. Olivia will have sparkling water. Felicity can’t join us but said to tell you she’s with us in spirit.”
Adrienne started to get up. “I can grab glasses—”
Maggie shook her head. “Nope. You sit. We know how you feel after this weekend.”
In minutes, she and Olivia returned with two glasses of a Kendrick Winery chardonnay and a glass of sparkling water with fresh mint from the garden. “Our first fire of the season,” Olivia said, sinking into a chair by the fireplace. “We had a fire on Christmas Eve when Dylan and I had our wedding here.”
“It was cold that day,” Maggie said. “Borderline fire weather tonight, but I love the atmosphere.” She held up her glass to Adrienne. “Cheers.”
Adrienne responded in kind. “After this weekend, I see just how much you two have been doing. Even a cleaning service and Felicity—both of whom are amazing—it’s a lot. You’ve been doing everything yourselves from food to sheets, windows and toilets.”
“I’ve potty trained two boys,” Maggie said. “Toilets are nothing to me.”
Olivia grinned at her. “I don’t want to think about potty training right now.”
Maggie laughed. “Diapers. Think about lots and lots of diapers.”
“That I can handle. I think.” She sipped her sparkling water. “I never expected this place to make a real profit early on. I was always going to freelance as a graphic designer until I got things sorted out here.”
Maggie sat cross-legged on the floor. “Then Dylan swooped into your life.”
Olivia nodded, obviously pleased at that development. “Adventure travel, entrepreneurial boot camps, friends and family far and wide. Married. Baby on the way. New house, new barn camps. Now we have new business offices in the village. Well, not new. New to us. We’re renovating a fantastic Victorian house off the town common. I don’t know if I mentioned that to you, Adrienne.”
“I heard.”
“Felicity,” Maggie said, no doubt in her tone. “Gabe’s partnered with Noah and Dylan and a friend of theirs from California. She’s working with them remotely. The house is on the other side of the library from us. The boys won’t go near it. Someone told them it’s haunted.”
Adrienne drank some of her wine. “How’s your head, Maggie? Sorry I didn’t ask earlier.”
“We were all too busy. I got the stitches out. I’ll have a scar but it should fade some in time. I don’t know what we’d have done about this weekend without you here. It wasn’t too trial-by-fire?”
“Not at all,” Adrienne said. “The women friends were terrific. They loved having the run of the place to do their own thing. I had to dig out the first-aid kit for a few minor scratches and stings, but nothing out of the ordinary.”
“No close encounters with wildlife meandering out of the Quabbin wilderness,” Maggie said. She drank her wine, no sign her injuries from her fall bothered her. “Brandon enjoyed leading the friends on a hike. He said you pulled together books on the history of Quabbin and various towns in the area. They loved that. I wouldn’t have thought of it, maybe because I’m from here.”
“So many possibilities,” Olivia said. “History, nature, local food and lore.”
“And a beautiful spot for a quiet evening by the fire,” Adrienne added.
Olivia placed a palm on her expanding middle. “Maggie and I weren’t kidding when we told you we didn’t have everything all figured out.”
Adrienne smiled. “That’s half the fun.”
“Great attitude,” Maggie said.
Maggie and Olivia’s diverse interest and skills coupled with their capacity for hard work had helped them get the inn up and running. They’d hired a temporary help as needed but now it was time for a more comprehensive, systematic approach.
Olivia flipped through the comment cards the women had filled out and left on a side table. “All positive reviews for your first weekend event.”
“That’s a good start,” Maggie said.
Adrienne thanked them but Olivia wasn’t done yet. “I’m glad it worked out, but we’ve been keeping our noses above water, so to speak. Our scattershot approach isn’t sustainable. Having you here is a godsend, Adrienne, but it’s not enough. It’s not just about help. We need a vision for this place. So much has changed since I bought it.”
“Before Dylan,” Maggie supplied.
“Exactly,” Olivia said. “But you and I have launched new ventures, too. We could do more with the goat’s milk products. I want whatever we do at least to be self-sustaining. We can book more events here but that brings its own headaches.”
“So much for your plan to build slowly, step by step,” Maggie said.
“Sometimes you have to get started and make adjustments as you go along,” Adrienne said. “I might do that too much but I like where I am right now. You’ll figure out what you want this place to be for you.”
“Autumn is a big season in New England,” Maggie said.
Olivia nodded. “We turned down events we could have booked.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Adrienne said. “We don’t have to do it now.”
“Even when I first moved to Boston, I knew I wanted to come home to Knights Bridge one day. I saved my money and snapped up this place when it came on the market.” Olivia eased to her feet and placed a hand at the small of her back as she stretched. “Dylan...we were a surprise for him. Knights Bridge, me. Grace.” She smiled. “Buster.”
“Grace was a surprise for all of us,” Maggie said. “Have you met her, Adrienne?”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
“She got to meet Dylan’s father before he died. He and Dylan talked about going into adventure travel together, but it didn’t happen. Grace is excited about the baby. The knitters and crocheters at the assisted living center are having fun. Blankets, booties, sweaters, hats.”
“You need twins,” Maggie said, a mischievous glint in her turquoise eyes.
Olivia laughed and gave a mock shudder. “I can’t imagine.”
“A wonder my mother survived Ava and Ruby.”
“I almost forgot,” Olivia said. “I asked Adam to stop by to take a look at the chimney in my office. It kept slipping my mind. I saw some cracks in it before you got here, Adrienne. I have no idea if they’re a problem, a potential problem or nothing. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Adrienne said, trying to ignore a twinge of something she couldn’t quite describe. Longing? For what? She’d never had the kind of community Maggie and Olivia did here in their hometown. Although she lived in Knights Bridge now, she was an outsider.
Olivia was clearly tired. Maggie abandoned the last of her wine. She’d picked up Olivia at her house and insisted on dropping her off, ignoring her friend’s insistence she could walk. They thanked Adrienne and congratulated her again on the successful weekend, and in thirty seconds, they were out the front door, leaving her to deal with Adam and the chimney on her own.
* * *
The chimney in Olivia’s former office was fine.
Adrienne wasn’t surprised.
“That crack’s probably been there for seventy-five years,” Adam said, joining her in the side yard. It was nearing dusk but she’d needed air, exercise. “I can go into details if you want.”
“You don’t need to touch it?”
“Nope.”
“All I need to know.”
She’d grabbed a baseball and glove she’d discovered in the mudroom. She hadn’t really thought about what she’d do with them. She figured Maggie had them there for her sons, or maybe for guests.
Aware of Adam watching her, Adrienne tossed the ball between hand and glove. She hadn’t realized how keyed up she was until Maggie and Olivia left and he arrived. So much for a quiet, easygoing life as a New England innkeeper—but she did love it so far. She just needed to resist being impulsive and causing trouble. Always remember the law of unintended consequences, she thought.
Adam’s tall frame was silhouetted against the darkening landscape. “Want me to throw to you?”
“Sure. Thanks. I’m just burning off some excess energy. Then I’ll probably turn to jelly.
”
“But everything went well this weekend,” he said.
It wasn’t a question but Adrienne nodded. “Yes.”
She lobbed him the ball. He didn’t have a glove but he caught the ball easily bare-handed. He turned to Violet, flopped in the grass. “The ball’s not for you. Got it?” The golden retriever blinked up at him expectantly. Adam grinned at Adrienne. “I think she’s too tired to chase balls.”
“I’ll try not to miss so she’s not tempted. Just don’t throw me a fastball.”
“We’ll just play catch.”
She stuffed her hand into the glove. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually played catch with a baseball and glove. In fact, I’m sure I haven’t.”
The glove fit okay. Dylan having been a professional hockey player, there were street and ice hockey sticks in the mudroom, too. Adrienne had never played hockey, either. She liked to walk and she’d taken a few yoga classes. Dylan’s adventure travel programs would never be her first pick for a vacation. Vineyards, museums, quaint Parisian streets. Her idea of a break. Trekking up Mount Washington? No. But not all the “adventures” were physically demanding.
Well, she could figure out how to throw and catch a baseball. It was Adam she wasn’t sure she could handle. Herself around him, to be more specific.
His second toss of the ball bounced off her glove. He walked over to her and showed her how to hold the glove. “Do you play baseball with your family?” she asked him.
“Softball. We missed Heather this summer. She’s our best pitcher.”
“We’ve stayed in touch,” Adrienne said. “She loves London but she gets homesick.”
“Helps to have Brody in her life,” Adam said.
He stood close to Adrienne. It wasn’t easy to wind down with him touching her, but he focused on the finer points of handling a baseball glove. “I can show you how to do a perfect downward dog,” she said.
He laughed softly. “What makes you think I don’t already know?”
“Oh, just a wild guess.”
Stone Bridges Page 17