Aunt Dimity Goes West (7 page)

center of the Aerie, a vast open space divided by furni-

ture into three distinct zones.The ultramodern kitchen

and the dining area took up the back half of the room,

separated by a granite-topped breakfast bar, and the living room filled the front half—and I do mean
filled.

The living room was jammed with leather sofas

and chairs, wooden benches, pine tables, Indian rugs,

carved chests, and a gaily painted upright piano that

looked as though it had once seen action in a bordello.

Rustic, glass-fronted cabinets held family photographs,

rocks, feathers, bones, old spoons, antlers, and inter-

esting bits of wood. Indian baskets, kerosene lamps,

old cowboy hats, and tin plates filled shelves that had

been mounted at various heights on the log walls, and

quilts lay across the backs of chairs and on ottomans, as if to provide an extra source of warmth on chilly

evenings. Some of the furniture was clustered before

the enormous plate-glass windows, and some sat be-

fore the magnificent stone hearth, but none of it was

formally arranged, and all of it looked well used.

50

Nancy Atherton

The great room was cluttered beyond belief, and I

fell in love with it at first sight. The Aerie wasn’t a

model home decorated by a fashionable designer. It

was a real home where real people really lived, exu-

berant people who found the world fascinating and

surrounded themselves with its colors and textures

and their happy memories.

“It’s wonderful,” I murmured. “Just wonderful.”

“I think so, too,” Toby said agreeably. “Were you

able to reach your husband?”

“Yes,” I said. “He wanted me to use a laptop to do

videoconferencing while we’re here, but I’m not very

good with computers. Fortunately, my mobile, er, my

cell phone is working just fine. I know how to use a

telephone.”

“What time was it in England when you spoke with

him?” asked Toby.

“Half past five in the morning,” I said with a guilty

wince. “Bill was pretty groggy, so we didn’t have a

long conversation.”

“I’m surprised
you
aren’t groggy,” Toby com-

mented.

“I will be, but I need to wind down a bit first.” I

raised my mug to salute him. “Hot chocolate always

does the trick. Thanks for making it.” I took a sip, then asked, “Do your grandparents still live in Bluebird?”

“No, but they’re buried in the cemetery,” said Toby,

and when I looked distressed, he continued, “It’s what

they always wanted. They loved Bluebird. Granddad

was the town doctor. He hoped Dad would take up

Aunt Dimity Goes West

51

the practice after him, but Dad went to school back

east and decided to stay there. I grew up in Connecti-

cut, but I came back here every summer. I love it

here. I don’t ever want to leave.”

The double doors to the foyer opened, and we both

looked over the back of the sofa as Annelise appeared,

dressed in her robe and nightgown, with her luxuriant

auburn hair streaming down her back.

“Lori?” she said. “May I have a word?”

“I’ll refill your mug,” Toby offered, and busied

himself in the kitchen while I crossed to speak with

Annelise.

“How’s your shoulder?” she asked quietly.

I glanced toward the kitchen, to make sure Toby

wasn’t listening. My gunshot wound was a private

matter. I didn’t want him or anyone else I met on

holiday to know about it.

“My shoulder’s stiff,” I said, lowering my voice, “but

so’s the rest of me. I feel as though we crossed the plains in a covered wagon instead of a wide-bodied jet.”

“I recommend a hot bath.” She stepped closer to

me and went on very softly, “If you have any . . . bad dreams . . . you know where to find me.”

I bristled slightly, but kept my voice low. “Did Bill

ask you to look after me as well as the boys while

we’re here? He shouldn’t have. I’ll be fine.”

“You weren’t fine on the plane,” she reminded me.

“But I
was
fine in the van,” I countered. “I napped and I woke up, just like a normal person. I intend to

do the same from now on.”

52

Nancy Atherton

“Of course you do,” said Annelise, “but if you have

any trouble—”

“Thanks, but I won’t,” I snapped, straightening.

“Good night, Annelise.”

“Good night, Lori.” She called good night to Toby,

closed the double doors, and went to her room.

As I returned to the sofa I made a mental note to

tell Bill that I was in no more need of a nanny than I

was of a babysitter.

“Do your parents fuss over you?” I asked Toby as he

returned from the kitchen.

“Sure.” He handed the refilled mug to me and re-

sumed his place on the sofa. “It’s what parents do. That’s why I loved staying with Granddad. He always treated

me as if I were a grown-up. I used to chop firewood

when I was eight or nine, with a real axe.” Toby’s blue

eyes twinkled delightfully as the old memories came

back to him. “Granddad would have been charged with

child neglect back east, but no one in Bluebird even

noticed. It was the best place imaginable to be a kid.”

“I wish I could have met your grandfather.” I

turned to stare sullenly into the fire. “It would be nice to be treated like a grown-up.”

“It was great,” said Toby. “I had the run of the valley.

The only place I couldn’t go was up here.”

“Why?” I asked.

“The Aerie was built on the site of the old Lord

Stuart Mine,” he explained. “Until two years ago, the

clearing was filled with half-ruined buildings and

rusty machinery. Mr. Auerbach used some of the

Aunt Dimity Goes West

53

timber from the old mine buildings when he built the

Aerie, but when I was a kid, the place was a death

trap. Granddad made it clear that if he ever caught me

up here, I wouldn’t be allowed to visit him again. He

was afraid I’d fall down a mine shaft.”

“Mine shaft?” I echoed hollowly. “Are there mine

shafts up here?”

“Hundreds of them,” said Toby, “but most of them

are fenced off, and when Mr. Auerbach built the Aerie,

he had a whole team of engineers seal the entrance to the Lord Stuart Mine. It’s tight as a drum, Lori, so you don’t have to worry about Will or Rob getting into it. Mr.

Auerbach has children, too,” he reminded me gently.

Chastened, I took a calming swig of hot chocolate.

“How often do the Auerbachs use the Aerie?”

“They haven’t been here since Christmas,” Toby

replied. “Mr. Auerbach is a busy man.”

“If he’s too busy to use the cabin,” I said, “why did

he build it in the first place?”

Toby grinned. “He told Granddad that his parents

wouldn’t allow him to have a tree house when he was

a child. The cabin’s his tree house.”

“Some tree house,” I said admiringly. I pointed to a

door beside the hearth. “What’s through there?”

“The library,” said Toby.

“There’s a
library
?” I heard the squeak of disbelief in my voice and smiled wryly at my own foolishness.

“To be perfectly honest, Toby, I thought the cabin

would be sort of . . . primitive. I wasn’t sure it would have indoor plumbing, let alone a library.”

54

Nancy Atherton

Toby rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t catch Mrs.

Auerbach using an outhouse. She likes her comfort.

She added the outdoor spa and the home theater to Mr.

Auerbach’s building plans, and the library was her idea, too. She collects books.Would you like to take a tour?”

“Let’s save it for tomorrow,” I suggested, and we

lapsed into a comfortable silence.

Several moments passed before I realized that I

was staring fixedly at a lock of Toby’s pale blond hair

gleaming in the firelight and decided that it was time

to go to bed. I quickly drained my mug, but before I

could carry it into the kitchen, Toby took it from my

hand.

“I’ll do the dishes,” he said. “You’ve had a tough

day. Don’t worry about the lights, either. I’ll turn

them off after you’ve gone.”

“Do we have plans for tomorrow?” I asked, get-

ting to my feet.

“If I were you, I’d take it easy for a few days,” he

advised, rising. “Let yourself adjust to the altitude

before you attempt anything strenuous. Slow and

steady wins the race.”

“Slow and steady it is, then,” I said. “Why don’t you

join us for breakfast? We should be up by eight,”

I added, though I knew I’d be up much earlier,

“and we’ll have breakfast on the table by nine. You

can give us a tour of the Aerie afterward.”

“Sounds good to me.” Toby took a ring of keys from

his pocket and handed them to me, saying, “They open

every door in the Aerie. I have a duplicate set, so don’t

Aunt Dimity Goes West

55

worry about losing them. My apartment’s through

there.” He pointed to a passageway at the end of the

kitchen. “If you need anything, come and get me.” His

eyes crinkled adorably as he smiled down at me. “I’m

glad you’re here, Lori. The Aerie’s too big for just

one person. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night,” I said. “And thanks, Toby. I’ve never

met James Blackwell, but he couldn’t be better

than you.”

“Aw, shucks, ma’am.” Toby let his silky blond hair

fall forward to hide his face. “You’re making me blush.”

I peered at him suspiciously. “Have you ever said

‘Aw, shucks’ before in your life?”

“Never,” he said, raising his head and grinning play-

fully, “but it seemed appropriate.”

I smiled, punched him lightly in the shoulder, and

headed for the master suite. It was very late, so I settled for a hot shower instead of a bath, pulled on a flannel

nightie, lit a fire in the corner fireplace, and sat in the armchair before the hearth, with Reginald in the

crook of my arm and the blue journal in my lap. Aunt

Dimity’s old-fashioned copperplate began to spin

across the page as soon as I opened the journal.

Is there a dirt floor? Does the roof leak? Is the loo out of
doors?

“No, no, and definitely not,” I replied. “It’s won-

derful, Dimity. The valley is wonderful, the cabin is

wonderful, our rooms are wonderful, and Toby is

wonderful. Everything is absolutely wonderful.”

You seem giddy, my dear. Have you been drinking?

56

Nancy Atherton

“Yes, but only hot chocolate,” I told her. “I’m not

drunk, Dimity. I’m ecstatic, euphoric, incredibly re-

lieved that the cabin is so wonderful. . . .” I paused to get a grip on myself, then added, “Or maybe it’s the

altitude.”

Rapture of the heights? Perhaps.Who, may I ask, is Toby?

“Toby Cooper,” I replied. “He’s the last-minute re-

placement for the original caretaker.”

And he’s wonderful, is he? Am I to assume that he’s also
good-looking?

I shifted uncomfortably in the armchair. Aunt

Dimity knew all too well that my track record with

attractive men who were not my husband wasn’t as

spotless as it should have been. I’d never actually for-

gotten my wedding vows, but my memory had grown

hazy from time to time. If I told Dimity that Toby

Cooper was as cute as a cocker spaniel—a tall, broad-

shouldered, manly cocker spaniel—she would get the

wrong impression, so I elected to downplay his good

looks.

“He’s a child, Dimity,” I said airily. “A nice kid.

He’s twenty-one years old and still in college.”

Good. You’ve never shown much interest in younger

men.What happened to the original caretaker?

“James Blackwell?” I said. “He quit two days ago. I

don’t know why. According to Danny Auerbach, he

left unexpectedly.”

Perhaps he grew tired of dealing with the crackpot neighbor.

“There isn’t one,” I said happily. “We have the

whole mountainside to ourselves.”

Aunt Dimity Goes West

57

Perhaps Mr. Blackwell was overworked.

“Are you kidding?” I said. “No one’s been here

since Christmas.”

He might have been lonely.

“The cabin’s awfully big for just one person,”

I agreed, recalling Toby’s words. “But it’s splendid,

Dimity. It has every luxury, but it still feels like a

family home. I don’t know why the Auerbachs don’t

use it more often. They left so much stuff behind

that they wouldn’t have to pack much more than an

overnight bag.”

What did the Auerbachs leave behind?

“This and that,” I said. “A blouse and two pairs of

trousers in my closet, a few T-shirts and a pair of

sneakers in the boys’ room.”

It sounds like an abandoned ship.Why didn’t the family
take their clothes with them after their Christmas visit?

“They’re rich,” I said. “They probably have multiple

wardrobes for multiple residences.”

Did they leave entire wardrobes behind?

“No,” I said. “Just odds and ends.”

They left odds and ends, here and there. It suggests to me
that they packed hastily. How very interesting.

“Is it?” I said vaguely. It was past midnight and the