The Inn at Misty Lake: Book Two in the Misty Lake Series (4 page)

5

Susan worked in town on Friday and was grateful for the steady stream of customers in and out of the shop that helped keep her mind off her upcoming dinner with Riley. She was nervous and excited at the same time. Nervous, because she was afraid of how he’d react to her notebook. She had given serious consideration to rewriting it, toning it down and only including some of the ideas that were in the real notebook. But, in the end, she figured she might as well face the music. Excited, because an evening out with Riley, albeit under less than ideal circumstances, was intriguing.

She hadn’t had a date for months. Not that she was considering this a date, even though he had kissed her. Maybe it was a date? No, Riley had barely grunted that they’d get pizza when she had asked what to wear. He hadn’t made it sound like a date. But maybe…the bell above the door jingled and she was relieved to focus on something other than Riley McCabe.

After work, Susan headed home to change and ready herself for the evening. She was disappointed Sam wasn’t home but remembered she was delivering a cocktail table and end tables to a client. Susan had wanted to talk things out with her knowing Sam would know what to say to calm her nerves.

Instead she played with Rigi until the dog was tired out, then, when she couldn’t find anything else to do, grabbed her notebook and climbed back in her car deciding to head to the B&B for a while until Riley finished working for the day. She pulled in to find several vehicles in the driveway and a man she didn’t recognize operating some sort of machine and digging around the foundation.

She found Riley inside, dusty and sweaty and, at the moment, seemingly swearing at the wall. She couldn’t help herself, she watched as he stretched to pull at a high section of plaster. His broad shoulders pulled his t-shirt taut and muscles rippled down the length of his outstretched arms. His jeans hung low on his hips and, with the bandana he had tucked in his back pocket, made for quite the sight. The late afternoon sunlight caught his wavy brown hair and the auburn highlights she had noticed the first time she met him were more prominent than ever. She knew when he turned around his piercing blue eyes would be focused and intent. She started to sigh before catching herself.

“That wall giving you a hard time, McCabe?”

Riley hadn’t heard her come in and was surprised, and a little annoyed, by the jolt that rocked him at the sound of her voice. He yanked the bandana from his pocket and wiped sweat from his forehead as he slowly ran his eyes over her. She wore her hair down. Fiery waves tumbled over her shoulders and on down her back. Her green sweater made her eyes intensely green. The tight jeans she wore disappeared into knee-high black boots with heels that brought her within a few inches of his height. When she started to grin he realized he was staring.

“Not really dressed for a day on the job,” he managed. “I thought I was picking you up?”

“I had some time, thought I’d stop by and see how things are going. What’s that guy doing digging around the house?”

He was relieved when she moved so easily into shoptalk and ignored his obvious leering. “He’s checking the foundation. I don’t like the dampness in the cellar, I want to make sure the foundation is secure and find out if we need to do some waterproofing.”

“Hmmm.” There were noises coming from different areas in the house. “What about all the other vehicles out there? How many people do you have here today?”

“I’ve got a couple guys in helping tear out walls. It’s not difficult work, just dirty and time consuming. These guys have helped me out in the past, they know what they’re doing. Cindy’s here and has someone helping her today, too. It’s a full house but they should all be heading out before long.”

“Okay. I think I’ll just putz around a little, check out some of the dressers and wardrobes to see if they seem worth hanging on to. I know you’re anxious to have things cleared out.”

“The sooner the better, but we’re still okay working around some of it.”

“All right. Well, I’ll be around. And don’t worry,” she said anticipating his next comment, “I’ll stay out of the way.”

There were a few pieces of furniture they had pushed into a corner that Susan wanted to get a better look at. They had been emptied, where necessary, but she hadn’t really taken time to look closely for warping, structural damage, things that would make a piece useless.

She admitted to herself she didn’t know a lot about antiques so had no idea how old some of the things left behind might be. Some of it looked old to her but as far as any value, she really couldn’t guess. It would make sense to have someone look at it, she figured. If there was something worth keeping, Sam could probably fix it.

She pulled at drawers, opened and closed doors, and checked for sturdiness. She found missing knobs on a couple of dressers. One was cracked and warped and wobbled at the slightest touch. Probably not a keeper. A particularly interesting wardrobe had water damage and seemed warped on one side. Too bad. It was a beautiful, three-door design with glass on the door in the center. The ornate pulls and keys made Susan think it was most likely quite old. She really needed to get someone out there who knew about this stuff, she told herself again.

The last dresser she checked out had a drawer that wouldn’t budge. She yanked and pulled and wiggled but it didn’t want to open. Just as she gave it one more try, Riley came in to tell her everyone had cleared out and he was ready to head home.

“Will you see if you can get this thing open first?”

He pulled at the drawer. “It’s caught on something.” He removed the drawer above which enabled him to see down behind the stuck drawer. “There’s something wedged in here, looks like some kind of book.”

He finagled it a little until it came free then handed it to Susan while he put the drawers back in place.

It was a composition-type notebook with a paperboard cover. She began flipping through the pages. “Look at this. It’s some kind of journal,” she said in awe, looking for dates. “Maybe I’ll learn more about the house’s history.”

Riley leaned over to look with her. “Here,” he pointed. “It says ‘Graduation Day, May 22, 1949.’” Together they read the account of stiff black graduation robes, speeches, hymns, and prayers that were part of the ceremony.

“This is so amazing, I can’t wait to read all of it,” Susan said, carefully fanning the pages.  “Oh, there’s a name here in the back. Charlie Walker.” She continued paging slowly through the book. “I wish there were pictures. I would love to know what it used to look like here, both inside and out.”

“You should check some of the old town records. There may be some pictures or at least some more information on the family who owned the property if you don’t find what you’re looking for in there.”

“I might do that,” Susan mumbled as she flipped to the beginning of the journal and began reading.

Riley busied himself for a few minutes looking over the furniture. “Have you made a decision on all of this?”

“What? Oh, no, not all of it. I was thinking I should find someone who knows something about antiques and see if any of it is worth trying to save.” She went back to looking at the book.

“Shauna would do it for you.”

“Shauna would do what?”

“Look at this stuff,” he answered, taking the book from her hands so as to have her attention.

“Really? I thought she worked at the bank. Does she know about this kind of thing?”

“She’s got some kind of art history degree, she loves antiques. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to get a look at all this.”

“That’s perfect. If I had known, I would have asked her to come out here weeks ago.”

“It’s Friday, she’ll probably be around town tonight. If we don’t run into her I’ll talk to her tomorrow. Now, we should get going, I’m starving.”

“Right. The pizza. Okay.” She was suddenly nervous again and couldn’t quite figure out why.

“How do you want to do this? Should I follow you home so you can drop off your car? Or do you want to leave it here and I’ll drive you back out here later?”

“No, no, I’ll just follow you.”

He gave her a look. “You’re not going to follow me and then drive yourself home later. Let’s drop your car off, that seems like the best plan.”

She wanted to argue but decided against it figuring it would be a waste of her time. “Fine,” she said with a shrug and followed him outside.

The evening was still warm but there was finally a hint of fall in the air that seemed to promise cooler temperatures. “I hope the forecast is right and we get some cooler weather.” She didn’t know what to say and weather seemed like a safe topic.

Knowing Riley must have picked up on her nervousness, she hoped he’d attribute it to her having to show him the notebook and nothing more. She was still determining how to make him believe that when something caught her eye and she stopped in her tracks and pointed.

“Look,” she cooed.

Riley followed her outstretched finger and spotted the puppy. He was sniffing around the dumpster, slightly crouched and shaking.

“Oh, Riley, he looks so scared.” She bent down low and held out her hand calling softly to the dog.

The dog hesitated then looked around frantically. He took a couple of tentative steps before changing his mind and darting off down the road.

“Oh, no. I hope he’s okay.” Susan watched him run until he turned into the trees and was out of sight. “He didn’t have a collar. I wonder where he came from.”

“Probably belongs to someone right around here,” Riley said.

Susan hoped so, but doubted it. By the tone of Riley’s voice, he concurred. The dog, which had appeared to be a young black lab, was dirty and not much more than skin and bones. He didn’t look like he’d seen a home of any sort for a good long while.

“Let’s get going, we’ll keep an eye out for him as we drive.”

Susan appreciated Riley’s attempt to sound encouraging. There was no sign of him though as they drove the few miles to Sam’s house. As Susan climbed into Riley’s truck after parking her car, she said, “I don’t like just leaving him.”

“I don’t either but there’s not a lot we can do. It’s going to be awfully hard to find him in the dark. He may turn up back at your place, we’ll keep an eye out for him.”

Hating the helpless feeling but resigned to it, Susan settled back and listened as Riley pointed out some places on the lake and told her stories about growing up in the area. When they pulled up to the house he shared with his twin brother Frank, Susan hesitated.

“Well, aren’t you coming?” Riley asked when she made no move to get out of the car.

“I could just wait here.” Her eyes were flitting around, landing everywhere but on Riley’s.

He got out of the car and circled around to her door, opening it and leaning his forearms on the roof. Peering in the car at her he teased, “You’re not afraid to be alone with me, are you, Red?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She pushed him aside, his smug tone enough to have her climbing from the car and heading for the door without looking back at him. 

Riley laughed out loud. Susan’s shoulders tensed as she hesitated for the briefest moment before throwing her chin in the air and continuing the walk to the house. Riley jogged a few steps to catch up with her. 

What was it about this man that had her going from intrigued to nervous to infuriated in less time than it took to tie her shoes? she wondered. Normally she was fun, confident…herself, around men. Either she was interested and let them know or she wasn’t and let them know. With Riley, she couldn’t seem to make up her mind. As she mulled it over, she realized Riley had the door open and was talking to her.

“I’ll just be a few minutes. I need a quick shower and a change of clothes. Make yourself at home. Frank might be showing up before long, I think he said he’d be home for a while this evening. But maybe that was yesterday.” He shrugged and headed down the hall leaving Susan standing in a living room dominated by a TV, a black leather sectional sofa, and a cocktail table stained with several water rings. Apparently coasters were optional at the Brothers McCabe abode. She rubbed a little at the water rings. It was a nice table and she hated to see it damaged. She could give him a few suggestions to get rid of the marks, she thought idly.

She wandered around, realizing she was curious about how Riley lived. The house appeared to be very clean, which surprised her, and was dominated with sports-related paraphernalia, which didn’t. Hockey seemed to be the brothers’ sport of choice. She found everything from Minnesota Wild beer glasses to a framed, autographed jersey to some curious looking oven mitts hanging from magnets on the side of the refrigerator.

She listened for a second and when she heard the shower still running, took a quick peek in the fridge. It was well stocked with what seemed to be a variety of fruits and vegetables, several condiments beyond the expected ketchup and mustard, and an extensive selection of yogurts and cheeses. Hmmm. Not at all what she’d expected.

As she continued her self-guided tour, she came to a hallway full of framed photographs. Frank’s, she assumed. To say they were stunning wouldn’t do them justice. He had captured dramatic sunsets, magnificent fall colors, and what she guessed to be a street in town the morning after an ice storm.