My Way Home (St.Gabriel Series Book 1) (St. Gabriel Series) (35 page)

“What’s wrong? What are you doing?” I asked her.

“I got a call this afternoon. The Haustermans have sold the bakery. Lock, stock, and barrel, and I have to be out by the end of April.”

“Oh, Sara, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“You’ll be okay. Couldn’t you work for the new owners?”

“It’s going to be a china shop,” she informed me as if that was the worst thing in the world.

“You can get another job.”

“Not like this job. I know I complained about working too hard, but I love the bakery. It’s been kind of like my own place. I did what I wanted, baked what I wanted. The Haustermans were good to me, and they paid decent and let me live here for free. Do you know what it costs to rent a place on the island, even a dump? Look at me. I’m thirty-seven years old, never finished college, I don’t own a home and have very little savings. Living for the moment works out pretty well until the future starts demanding more than you can offer. I’m broke, homeless and alone.”

Taking stock, that’s what Sara had been doing.

“You are not alone. You know that you can stay with Race and me.”

She gave me a look,
As if that’s going to happen.

“Sara Strauss, quit being ridiculous. We have the room, and we’re going to need the help when we open the lodge. You can work for us. Race and I have been out there for almost a year. Has anything happened to either of us?”

“Let’s see. Race is lying in the hospital, you were almost killed in a sleigh accident, buildings are falling apart, and you have farm animals living indoors. You guys are doing fabulously.”

“What does any of that have to do with the lodge being haunted?”

“So, you’re admitting it, it’s haunted?”

“You know what I mean.” I sat down at the table and had a mini debate with myself, and then I said, “Since you brought it up, Race and I have heard a few things.”

“Like what?”

“Voices a couple of times and some howling-type noises from the cellar.”

Sara’s eyes got wide. “You’re teasing me.”

“Well, no, actually I’m not.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m sorry. We were going to tell you.”

“When?”

“When the renovation was finished. Did you ever read the book the Ghost and Mrs. Muir or see the movie?”

“I saw the television show.”

“We think of it as being like that. If there are ghosts, we’re all getting along just fine.”

“Cammy, are you jerking me around?”

“I’m really not.” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I don’t know what you think is funny about this. And look, no offense, even before you shared this vital piece of information with me, I had considered a lot of options here…” she waved her hands over her lists on the table. “…but working at The Lake Lodge has not been one of them.”

“Fine, suit yourself. But whatever you decide to do, you are not alone, Sara Strauss.”

Two days before Race was released from the hospital
, the weather broke and everyone on the island left their shelters to survey the damage.

The day Race did get to go home, James sent one of the View Point Hotel’s enclosed sleighs to take us to the lodge. As we traveled on Shoreline Drive between the snowy woods and the frozen water, I thought of how the pain of childbirth faded to a distant memory the moment I looked into Paul’s and Janie’s newborn faces. And as I looked at the stunning scenery that day, my less-than-fond memory of the storms had faded as well. The sky was clear and blue, and the snow was sparkling as if it had been dusted with glitter.

We walked through the front door of the cottage, and then Race held me and with a smirk he said, “It’s good to be home.”

After I got him settled, I checked on the animals. George had moved Cat and the girls to the barn.

“They needed more room to roam,” he told me.

I was worried about the kittens getting stepped on by one of the horses, but Race assured me kittens had lived in barns before.

Cat came to me as soon as I walked through the door and rubbed up against my legs. When I picked her up, her purr was one of the best sounds I had ever heard, still is. I sat on the ground and the kittens were crawling in and out of my lap, and Cat sat and watched while she swished her tail back and forth.

Before I left the barn, I thanked Tasha and Collard Greens for getting me as far as they did the night Race went to the hospital, and Collard Greens let me look him in the eye as I offered my thanks.

Ralph Cummings came out to the lodge
to repair the heater in the henhouse, and we moved the chickens back to the coop, but not before they had scratched, pecked, and pooped the floors to a dull, distressed finish.

Our renovation crew came out to the lodge with their families and Larry Meaks and his parents were with them. They threw Race and me a surprise party in the lobby to celebrate our having survived our first island winter, which had been the worst St. Gabriel had seen in over fifty years. Race was sitting in a chair, still weak from his illness, and Lila Meaks came up to him and said, “Now we’ll see if you’re gonna to be a timer or a lifer.”

Race held up his glass, clinked it against Lila’s and said, “We’ll see.”

Our crew cleaned up the demolished shed, and Lisle and Kurt ordered materials for the new shed that I had drawn plans for while sitting with Race in the hospital. It would have a room for potting plants and storing garden tools, a room for Race’s woodworking and space for storing a snowmobile, maybe two.

Race had to take it easy for the next several weeks and by the time the doctors released him to resume all of his regular activities, the ice crossing had already begun to thaw. The snow was melting, and Race and I hadn’t been on a sleigh ride, not one for pleasure that is. We had missed the ice skating parties and snow shoeing, and we hadn’t mastered cross-country skiing. Well, I hadn’t, but there would always be other winters, I hoped.

Sara’s job and apartment hunting were interrupted
when she got a call from New Mexico. Her father had died, and she left the island for an undetermined amount of time. We packed up her studio apartment and loaded the boxes and her bike in the dray to be taken to the lodge and stored in the attic.

We did not say goodbye. Race and I just drove away, and the truth weighed heavy on me that there was no guarantee she would be coming back. Sara Strauss had been one of my favorite things about St. Gabriel Island.

When we pulled up to the lodge with Sara’s things, Joshua, the painter I had hired was waiting for me. Joshua is a Gabey but, as Lila Meaks would say, most of his crew was timers, and after that winter, they had decided it was time to leave the island. He only had one man left, and the two of them would never be able to finish the job by Memorial Day. We were in a pickle.

In April and May St. Gabriel Island is still waiting for the tourist boom, but there is no lack of activity. Awnings and signs are brought out of storage and replaced, buildings, streets, and sidewalks are power washed, windows are cleaned, flower beds and pots are trimmed and planted, and anything that needs it gets a new coat of paint. Ladders, paint buckets, and brushes are on every street, and finding an unemployed painter locally would be like winning the lottery.

I became Joshua’s third crew member. He didn’t ask for my resume, but I had the experience. After twelve hours of painting every day though, I was walking around like a centenarian. I wasn’t forty-eight anymore, but I wanted it done, and I wanted it done right.

When it comes to remodeling, painting is the icing on the cake for me. But, I had gotten to the point that I was ready to hire monkeys to help finish the job and then we got a call from Madison. Grace and Grant, our very first guests in Rhubarb Cottage, wanted to come back for another stay.

“Grace, isn’t Grant a painter?”

“Yes.”

“Would he be interested in some work and a free place to stay on the island for both of you while he does it?”

“Hold on.”

I heard muffled voices and then Grace said, “Yes, he’d be interested. When?”

“Yesterday,” I said.

Grace, Grant, and two of his painting buddies showed up the following week. Grace and Grant stayed in Rhubarb Cottage and we set Tim and Ed up in rooms in the lodge, then they all got to work.

As soon as Race was fully recovered, he assessed the damage in the dining room. I had picked up the shredded paper and cleaned and scrubbed the floor but, like the sleigh, it was still a sorry sight.

“I’m sorry, Race,” I said as we stood in the middle of the room.

“That’s okay.” He studied my face and traced the scar on my forehead with his thumb and kissed it. “It was the first room I finished. I wasn’t that pleased with it anyway.”

We sealed off the room to keep the dust in, and Race re-sanded and put a new finish on the floor, and it did look better than his first job—perfect in fact.

Sleigh Ride

Over time we have learned some of the history that has caused the animosity between the Gabies and those that live on the Hill, but when Race and I first moved to the island, it just seemed foolish.

Race and I received an invitation to the Spring Ball the View Point Hotel hosts each year to kick off the upcoming tourist season. When the invitation became public knowledge among our renovation crew that was back on the job, the scrutiny began.

“You’re not actually thinking about going are you?” asked Kurt.

While shaking his head in disgust and making his sucking noises louder than usual, Joel said, “I don’t know why you would want to rub elbows with all those muckety-mucks.”

Matthew was in school and Ralph stayed out of it. He was as quiet as always, anyway. But as far as Joel, Kurt, and Lisle were concerned, we were one of them, although we hadn’t yet gotten the official notice from Lila Meaks.

We were succumbing to the pressure and had almost decided we would send our regrets. Then Race came back from town after having lunch with Larry one day and said, “I saw James Alexander downtown today. He was celebrating his divorce being final.”

I smiled.
Finally.
“I wonder how that got settled.”

“Apparently, his wife wanted to remarry.”

“Sounds like you two had quite a conversation.”

“We did. He’s a nice guy.”

“I told you. I know these things.”

“He asked if we were going to the Spring Ball.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That we hadn’t decided yet. He told me he’d like us to go. I think we should.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay.”

That decision caused our renovation crew, our friends, to walk around the property giving us the silent treatment. It was like being in high school. The halls were packed, but the cool kids wouldn’t talk to us.

Ralph tried to make amends for the rest of our little tribe and said, “Don’t worry about it. They’ll come around.”

After the bulk of the painting had been tackled, the Wisconsin painters went home. Joshua, his one crew member and I were finishing up. Ralph was hanging all of the light fixtures he and Matthew had cleaned and rewired over the winter. Joel’s crew was installing the tubs, sinks, faucets, and toilets. Lisle and Kurt were hanging doors and putting up trim.

I was in an upstairs bedroom painting and feeling a little bit ostracized when I saw a horse taxi pull up to the front gate. My first thought was,
Race’s parents
. My second was,
Sara Strauss!

I dropped my paint brush in a can of water and ran down the stairs, out the front door and down the hill. It wasn’t Sara. It was Marni Scott-Robles. The taxi driver took her luggage from the back of the carriage while Marni hugged me, and it was a desperate embrace.

“Cammy, I didn’t know what to do or where to go, and you were the first person I thought of. I hope you don’t mind that I just showed up. I thought about calling, but I didn’t know what to say.”

“No, Marni, it’s fine that you’re here. But, honey, why are you here? What’s wrong?”

“Robert left me.”

My heart sank. Marni had been married to Robert since she was in college, and he had been by her side while she had battled breast cancer. Loretta had praised him for being so attentive and strong through it all.

I took Marni and her luggage to Rhubarb Cottage, which I hadn’t cleaned since Grace and Grant had left. I sat with her on the sofa, and she poured out her heart. “We never got back to normal after the surgery. He left because he couldn’t look at me.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, but I know that’s why. Once I was through with my treatments, he changed. I knew something wasn’t right. He used to look at me. He stopped looking at me, touching me, even talking to me.”

“Does Loretta know you’re here?”

“No, no one does. I was on the plane before I really thought about what I was doing. I thought you’d be able to tell me how to make him come back. But before the plane landed, I realized I don’t want to be with someone who can’t stand the sight of me.”