Finding The Way Back To Love (Lakeside Porches 3) (19 page)

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Authors: Katie O'Boyle

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Fiction, #Lakeside Porches, #Series, #Love Stories, #Spa, #Finger Lakes, #Finding The Way, #Psychotherapist, #Widow, #Life Partner, #Family Life, #Officer, #Law Enforcement, #Tompkins Falls, #Ex-Wife, #Betrayal, #Alcoholic Father, #Niece, #Pregnant, #Security System. Join Forces, #Squall, #Painful Truths

BOOK: Finding The Way Back To Love (Lakeside Porches 3)
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“Cool. I’ll pick out videos from your stash and find us some food.”

“That’s my Haley.”

“Gwen, it’s Gianessa,” the sleepy voice told her at eleven the next morning.

“Hi, girlfriend.” Gwen abandoned the salad she’d been fixing for lunch and perched at the island. “How are you feeling one day after delivery?”

“Exhausted. I wanted to thank you for getting me to the hospital in time. Dr. Bowes just yelled at me and said I nearly died.”

“Why would she yell at you like that?”
What is she thinking?

“Because I was being difficult. The drugs are making me feel like Superwoman, and I wanted to take my babies home today.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Gwen scolded. “Your priorities are to heal and get off the drugs. Justin has nannies and nurses lined up to do the baby care, so you can just enjoy the twins while you’re recuperating.”

“She said I lost a lot of blood. I keep falling asleep in the middle of conversations.”

“So I shouldn’t panic if you suddenly drop the phone?”

“Right. Justin and I called Pop and Ariella this morning with the news, and they’re thrilled—boy and girl twins, just like them. I want them here, but they can’t come for a while. Their restaurant in Milan is catching on. Justin says we can visit them again when I’m well.”

She is so drugged.

“I told your sponsor, Carol, the good news,” Gwen said. “She’s thrilled you’re okay and that the babies are healthy.”

“Aw, thanks.”

“And Sara shrieked so loud, you probably heard her in Clifton Springs.”

“I did,” Gianessa joked.

Gwen burst out laughing. “Now I know you’re going to be okay. You’ve got your sense of humor working already.”

“Gwen, can I ask you something in confidence?”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Since I can’t have more babies, I think it’s time I gave some thought to my career. I’m wondering where Manda is with her planning for the holistic rehab center, and I want your take on how Justin will feel about my working.”

“I think once you’re home and healing, that’s a good time for you to ask Manda and to have a long talk with Justin.”

“Yes, but what do you think?”

“I know Manda is working hard on her business plan, which she needs to complete for graduation in May.”

“And what would Justin say about my jumping into that project?”

“What do
you
think?” Gwen turned the question back to her.

“I think, like me, he’d be torn between having me shine in my work and having me home with our babies.”

Gwen smiled to herself and nodded.
Drugged or not, that sounds exactly right.

“Gwen?”

“I agree completely,” Gwen said quickly, “but I want to caution you to go slow and make your physical recovery the priority for the next few months or even more. Think of all the guidance you gave Joel as his physical therapist last winter. You continually cautioned him not to overdo because that would set him back, right?”

“I see. And it was almost six months before he could stand for his wedding vows.”

“Exactly. You’ll need someone to put the brakes on for you, and Justin will be very protective. That’s why I think it’s important that the two of you talk about it. Openly. Together.”

“Mmm.”

“You’re falling asleep, aren’t you?”

Gianessa’s musical laugh floated across the connection. “Come visit me tomorrow,” she said.

“I’ll try.” Gwen listened to the silence for a few seconds before saying. “Sleep well, see you soon.”

“Oh,” Gianessa said. “I almost forgot. We’re really calling them Jack and Jill.”

“You are seriously fit, woman,” Peter commented as they came ashore at the end of a long, hard paddle. They had set out from Gwen’s as soon as the morning fog lifted, on a diagonal course to Cady’s Point. By land, it was the full width of Chestnut Lake and eight miles south of the city limits of Tompkins Falls.

Gwen hopped out of the canoe with a smile. She hauled the bow onto the beach and favored him with sparkling brown eyes. When he sat admiring her for another ten seconds, she put her fists on her hips with a laugh. “You’re going to sit there all morning?”

“Can’t blame a guy for admiring the view.” He stowed his paddle under the crossbars.

Gwen straddled the bow to steady the canoe while he stepped along the center seam and climbed out. Together, they hauled the boat out of the water, rolled it over, and tucked it into the scrub at the edge of the sand.

He caught her hand and embraced her. “You said you were bringing me here to learn about a legend. I want to know what you mean.”

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

“No.” He shook his head slowly. “I’m not letting you go until you explain.”

“I’m not sure I can.” Gwen’s forehead puckered. “You kind of have to experience it.”

“Okay, then tell me what it’s about.”

“It’s about healing.”

“Healing.” Peter narrowed his eyes. “As in recovering from illness?”

“Exactly.” Gwen’s smile radiated her own wellness—white teeth, rosy cheeks, bright eyes. “Physical healing, emotional healing, spiritual healing. Yes.”

“Sometimes I don’t get you.” He held her tighter.

She ran her hands over his shoulders and lifted her mouth for a kiss. The loud motor of a passing boat and wolf whistles from its occupants interrupted their necking.

Gwen’s cheeks flamed.

“Ignore them.”

“I’m trying.” She cleared her throat and squared her shoulder. “Back to our mission. If we explore Cady’s Point, I think you’ll tune into what I mean, probably in the next fifteen minutes. If not, we’ll do something different.”

“I’m thinking I’m going to win this bet.” He touched his forehead to hers and smiled. “Do I get to pick the something different we do instead?”

She laughed and nodded. “But you need to know the legacy of Cady’s Point, which is important in the history of Tompkins Falls and Chestnut Lake. Ready?”

He cocked his head. “Timer’s running on your fifteen minutes.”

She grinned as she motioned him to lead. “Just walk straight ahead until we reach the path.”

“Straight through all this brush?” he squawked.

“Go boldly forth, my hero.”

Peter pushed through buffalo berry and sumac, and they entered a thick, tranquil forest of evergreens and hardwoods. In another minute they reached a winding path, where he paused.

“What are you hearing?” Gwen asked.

“Birdcalls. I smell lingering wood smoke, and I feel some presence.” He turned to Gwen with a question in his eyes. “What is it?”

“Come with me.” She tugged his hand and led him along a narrow, sunlit path to a broad clearing with a car-sized, flattop boulder. They climbed onto its smooth, hard, sun-warmed surface. Gwen sat cross-legged. Peter leaned back on his elbows and stretched out his legs.

“When we first talked about coming here,” he recalled, “you said this was sacred ground for the Native Americans.”

“It was. This boulder is in the center of a tract of lakeshore, about one square mile, that was said to be a place of healing and ceremony for a Native American tribe that lived here before the European settlers came. The square mile, and many surrounding acres, came into the possession of my friend Lorraine’s family more than a hundred years ago. They eventually named it Cady’s Point.”

“As in Elizabeth Cady Stanton?”

“Spelled the same, but that’s all. Cady Stanton may have been a distant relative, but Lorraine never found a connection. Believe me, she tried. Lorraine’s grandmother, as you’ve guessed, was a Cady, and that’s where the name Cady’s Point came from.

“Because it was pretty far from town and didn’t have a commanding view of the lake, the family never developed it. Still, it was the target of an Indian Land Claim decades ago.”

“A lot of land in the Syracuse area was disputed, I remember.”

“All through the Finger Lakes, too. No one knows the details, but Lorraine’s grandparents settled the Cady’s Point land claim sometime in the seventies or eighties, with an army of lawyers, it is said, for a huge sum of money. Her parents sold off the surrounding acres, which were developed as building lots with large private homes. Bottom line, Lorraine inherited this square mile of once-sacred land, with a clean title. As kids we played out here—swimming, biking, climbing trees, exploring the lakeshore by foot and by boat. Then as I grew up, I became aware of the healing energy in this place. Knowing how it affected me made me curious about the many ways people heal.”

“What do you mean? Like the mind-body connection?”

“Exactly, and you know how that worked, in your own case. You talked about using your anger at your ex-wife to power through your physical therapy. Energy like that can destroy you or help you heal. That awareness led me to become a psychologist, rather than a physician like my dad.” Gwen’s brow furrowed. Some dark memory nagged at her, taunting her about a time in her own life when she’d used fury to propel herself forward. She couldn’t get a grip on it, though, and didn’t care to at the moment. She shook it off in favor of a bright smile.

Peter missed the brief period of her unease. His eyes were closed. “Right now,” he said, “I can feel the sunlight warming my muscles, almost like a massage after a workout. You know, if this stuff works for everyone, Lorraine could have opened a high-end spa here.”

“Lorraine keeps her toys to herself. She bulldozed another clearing and built a magnificent home that I’ll show you. She planned to live there with her husband.”

“But she doesn’t live here now,” Peter guessed. “No one does.”

“You’re right. Lorraine did marry and live in the house for a few years. Then she decided it was jinxed.”

“Why’s that?”

“Come on.”

Gwen hopped off the rock and led him down yet another path, this one dappled with sunlight that filtered through the leaves high above them. At the end of the path, they passed through two giant oaks into a large clearing. In its center was a sprawling, glass-and-stone showplace.

Peter whistled. “Wonderful. Except . . .”

“What?” Gwen waited.

“Well, for one thing, the grounds are nothing but scruffy lawn, mowed, but riddled with crabgrass. Let’s look around.”

He set out to circle the contemporary mansion. “You’re sure no one’s home?”

“Deserted,” she affirmed from a few paces behind him.

After examining every side and peering in a few windows, he stopped where they’d started. “Spectacular home, but if I owned this land, I’d want to build where I could see the lake, somewhere on the cove where we landed. That would be amazing. And I wouldn’t just hack a big circle, like this, in the middle of the woods. And I’d want landscaping.”

“I agree. Do you notice any other differences between the other clearing and here?”

“There’s none of that peaceful mojo.” He massaged the back of his neck with one hand. “Even with the sunshine, the hairs on the back of my neck are bristling. They have been since we left the path.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You said she lived here for a while and left because it was jinxed? What went on here? It’s almost as creepy as the drug-infested neighborhood I used to patrol.”

When the story was not forthcoming, he followed her line of sight. She was fixated on the front door, and her eyes brimmed with tears. He came close beside her and touched her hand. “She’s your friend, and it’s a painful story, isn’t it?”

“Thank you for sensing that.” Gwen reached one arm around his waist and held tight.

“You didn’t realize I’m a perceptive guy?” His chuckle lightened the mood.

“I knew.” She lifted her face for a kiss. “It always comes out when you talk about your sister. And the way you are with Haley and Rick.”

He wanted to sweep her off her feet, haul her back to the lush clearing, and make love in the sunlight. With gentle hands, he smoothed the wind-tangled hair from her cheeks and touched her warm, waiting lips. Her passionate kiss took him by surprise.

When it ended, she met his gaze, her eyes troubled.

Something is so off here
. “Tell me the story.”

“Let’s go back to the clearing first,” she said with a shiver. “I liked our hot rock. We can talk there.”

He scanned the line of trees, searching for the start of the path, but couldn’t see it. Panic tickled his gut. “How do we get out?”

Gwen led him to the two large oaks, and they passed between them onto the wide path.

As they wound through the woods for a hundred yards, he observed, “You know this land intimately.”

She nodded.

When they emerged into the clearing with the boulder, he smiled with relief. There it was again—the calming presence. It enveloped the place and everyone that entered into it.
If they’re open to it
, he amended, wondering about Lorraine and her husband.

Gwen joined him on the big rock and reached out her hand. He slid behind her and massaged her shoulders until she moaned with pleasure. “You have magic hands.” She leaned back in his arms.

“Now tell me the story. What happened in the house that Lorraine built?”

“Do you remember meeting Joel Cushman at the chief’s party?”

She sighed when he kissed her temple. “Yes, I remember.”

“Joel and Lorraine were engaged, once, five or so years ago. In anticipation of their marriage, she built that house.”

“Why do I think she didn’t tell him about it or involve him in its design or placement?”

“Good instincts. That was typical of their relationship. Lorraine knew best, and Joel was expected to go along.”

Peter exhaled a laugh. “Joel doesn’t strike me as someone who operates that way.”

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