Read River's Song - The Inn at Shining Waters Series Online
Authors: Melody Carlson
Tags: #Melody Carlson Beautifully Tells A Generational Story Of A Family Living Alongside The Banks Of Oregon'S Siuslaw River.
Anna was just stirring up some tuna salad when she saw Henry's boat coming to the dock again. Perhaps he had mail for her, although that would be surprising. But before she could get down there to see, a man jumped out of the boat and onto the dock, and Henry took off. Unsure as to who this tall stranger walking down her dock might be, she felt a little uneasy. Certainly, he didn't think the store was open. Henry would've told him that much.
"Hello?" she called out with hesitation. "Can I help you?"
She continued walking toward him. He didn't seem dangerous. In fact, he was rather good looking. Tall and broadshouldered. Wearing a blue-plaid shirt, tan corduroys, and sturdy walking shoes, he might be a fisherman, although he had no gear or anything besides a jacket slung over his arm. On his head was a brown felt hat. As she got closer, she could see a ruffle of brown hair, the same shade as the hat, under the rim. But it was his eyes that gave her pause—a surprisingly intense shade of blue. The color reminded her of the Siuslaw River on a clear autumn day.
"I'm Clark," he called back, as if that should explain everything.
Still wondering why this gentleman was standing on her dock and looking all around him as if he were trying to figure out the same thing, she decided to introduce herself.
"I'm Anna Gunderson," she said cautiously. "This is my dock and my property." She felt worried. The lawyer had assured her this was her property, and had promised to send the paperwork. But what if something was wrong—what if there really was some sort of lien or something that could take it from her? Perhaps that was why this stranger was here now. This thought alone made her feel slightly sick.
His brow creased. "Gunderson, you say? I was supposed to be dropped off at the Larsons'. Is that around somewhere nearby?"
"This is the Larson place. I am Anna Larson. Gunderson is my married name." She waited, almost afraid to breathe. What did he want?
"Oh." He nodded. "I see. And I'm Clark Richards. I'm here to take a look around the place."
She frowned. "May I ask why?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you knew I was coming. I'm here to get an idea of what you might need in order to get connected to power and telephone."
"Oh, yes." Relief washed over her. "You're the man Hazel mentioned."
He made a lopsided grin. "Right. Hazel."
"My goodness, you got here quickly."
"Well, she called me several days ago, when she was still at the hotel." He removed his hat and rubbed his forehead, revealing slightly messy hair, but it seemed thick for his age.Her guess, based on graying temples, was that he was older than her. "I understand she's staying here now." He glanced over to what used to be the store. "Is this a hotel?"
"Not yet . . . but it might be someday," she said wistfully.
"So do you mind if I just poke around, get the lay of the land, and figure out what will be needed before we get the utility guys out here? That will save everyone time and money."
"That sounds good to me. I was just fixing lunch. Would you like to join us?"
"I'd appreciate that. If it's no problem."
"No problem at all." She pointed to the stairs up to the house. "It's up there. I told Hazel to come up about one."
"Where is Hazel anyway?" he asked with a curious grin.
Anna pointed over to the cabin. "It's rustic, but she seems to like it."
"I think I'll go over and say hello."
Anna just nodded, then hurried on back to the house to be sure there was enough lunch for three people. As she opened another can of tuna, she wondered how Hazel had met this Clark person and what he normally did when he wasn't helping in this capacity. She also wondered if he was from Florence and if so, was he a newcomer, since the name Richards was unfamiliar. She was just getting lunch on the table when she heard their voices. The way they were talking sounded like they were old friends.
"Hello in the house," Hazel called. "Are we too early for lunch?"
"Not at all. Come on in." Anna set a pitcher of lemonade on the table. "Make yourselves comfortable."
"Oh, my!" Hazel exclaimed as she picked up a notebook." Are these what I think they are, Anna?"
"Yes, I found them."
"Oh, Clark, Anna's father actually wrote down stories from her grandmother—and these are the actual books. I'm so tickled, I can hardly stand it."
"You've probably noticed by now that my mother is given to enthusiasm," Clark said to Anna.
"Your mother?"Anna stared at him, then at Hazel. They looked nothing alike.
"Oh, didn't I mention that?" Hazel asked absently, her eyes fixed on the first page of the open journal. "Yes, Clark is my son . . . has been for quite some time."
He laughed. "My whole life, as a matter of fact." Now he gently removed the book from his mother's hands. "I'm sure that will wait, Mom. Remember your manners. It seems that Mrs. Gunderson has fixed—"
"Please, call me Anna."
He smiled as he pulled out a chair for his mother and then one for Anna as well. Surprised at his courtesy, she sat down. Then she realized she hadn't put everything on the table yet. Embarrassed, she stood. "Go ahead and sit down," she told him. "I forgot something."
Clark and Hazel chatted about his trip up the river while they waited for Anna. Then she rejoined them and Clark offered to say grace. Hazel smiled in what seemed a tolerant way." My son always likes to pray before he eats," she said as if apologizing.
"My father always did that too,"Anna admitted. "I sometimes miss it."
With the blessing said, Hazel explained that Clark had driven over from Eugene yesterday afternoon. "I really didn't expect him so soon, but I'm certainly glad he came."
"And I've already talked to the power and telephone people in town," Clark explained. "Hopefully, we'll get them out here as soon as possible."
"I don't recall if I mentioned that Clark is a building contractor," Hazel told her. "Of course, it's taken me a while to get used to that." She sighed sadly. "You see, Clark graduated top of his class in law school, but then decided it didn't interest him."
Clark shook his head. "Someday I'm hoping she'll get over it too."
"Oh, I am over it, Son." She grinned and patted his hand." Mostly anyway. I suppose I just like bragging about my boy's impressive education. Despicable, isn't it?"
"Understandable,"Anna told her. "And forgivable."
"Bless you."
"The problem was that I went to war," Clark directed this to Anna, as if that should explain the whole thing. And maybe it did.
She nodded as she passed him the pickles. "That was a problem . . . for a lot of people."
"For me, going to war, well, that just changed everything."
She peered curiously at him as he buttered a piece of bread." I can understand that," she said quietly, hoping he might elaborate more. "It changed things for a lot of men . . . women too for that matter."
Now he seemed to be studying her. "You seem to know something about this yourself?" There was a question in his voice. "Were you in the service?"
"No, not really. Although I suppose I felt like it. You see, my husband was severely injured . . . in battle . . . I cared for him until he passed . . . about eight years ago."
"I'm sorry." Clark's blue eyes looked genuinely sympathetic too. "So I'm sure you do understand how war changes things."
"If women ruled the world there would be no war," Hazel stated.
Clark laughed. "Don't be so sure about that, Mom. I've known some pretty feisty women, some that started a few small battles too."
Hazel chuckled. "I suppose that's true."
"I'm still curious how the war made you decide not to practice law,"Anna said to him.
"Ah, yes. I suppose that doesn't make sense." He took a sip of lemonade, and, with a thoughtful expression, continued." I was a bombardier in the Army Air Corps. At the time it was highly necessary, and it helped us beat Hitler. But now I feel a sense of sadness to think of it . . . all the death and destruction those bombs caused. It's hard to even speak of it now."
"You were simply doing your job, Son."
"I suppose."
"I can understand how that would be hard on a person,"Anna told him. "My husband witnessed some horrors that took a toll on him too."
Clark nodded. "So when I got home I was so sick of destruction that I decided I wanted to build things. I wanted to use my hands and my mind and my body to create homes—good solid homes. At first I thought it was just a passing fancy—sort of a phase that I needed to get out of my system. But the more I built, the more I loved doing it."
"And people love Clark's homes too," Hazel gushed. "Every single one of them is unique and wonderful, but without being terribly expensive. He's always got a waiting list of customers too. But just the same, he refused to go with tract housing like some developers do. He only builds one or two houses at the same time."
"And right now I'm between houses," he told her. "Which is why I could come out here and spend some time with you."
"I'm so glad you did, too. I wish you could've brought Marshall with you."
Clark frowned. "I asked him to come, Mom, but as usual, he had something else to do."
"Marshall is Clark's son. Seventeen and he's been a bit of a handful."
"He's with his mother," Clark explained. "She's the pushover. Lets him have his way if he throws a fit." He shook his head. "But I won't go into that." He looked at his empty plate." Thank you for the delicious lunch, Anna. Now if you ladies will excuse me, I'd like to go see if I can make myself useful outside." He removed a stub of a pencil and a little notebook from his shirt pocket. "If all goes well, we'll have you powered up by the end of the week."
"It's hard to imagine what it will be like to have electricity around here,"Anna said as she started to clear the table." Although I won't miss the noise of the generator, or having to keep an eye on it, fill it with gas, start it up, or any of that."
"No, no,"Anna took the dishes from her. "This is my work, Hazel. I know you can't wait to start reading those stories my father wrote down. Now, off with you."
"I'd think it might simplify your life considerably." Hazel picked up some things from the table.
Hazel chuckled. "Well, I am anxious." But before she left, she called out, "Now, you did mention to Clark that you might turn this place into an inn, didn't you?"
"What do you mean?"
"For the electrical and telephone. It might be best if they knew about that up front, might save you some time and money on down the line. I'd recommend you run down there and let Clark know so he can keep it in mind."
Anna nodded. "Yes, that might be wise. Thank you for thinking of it." She rinsed the plates then set them in the sink, dried her hands, then went out to see if she could find Clark.
"Hey, I was just about to come looking for you," he called out when he saw her.
"Did you need something?"
He asked her about the boundaries of the property and she pointed them out. Then she explained the idea to possibly turn the place into an inn. "It's probably a far-fetched idea. Your mother actually suggested it. And I thought it might be worth looking into."
"I think it's a great idea. And this is a beautiful piece of property. I can imagine people wanting to pay to stay here. With your dock, you could probably entice fishermen at the very least."
"Well, it might be a way to help me to stay here." She looked out over the river with a longing. "And I'd like that."
"Say." He grinned. "If you decide to turn it into an inn, you might need a contractor."
She laughed. "I'm sure that I would. The problem is I couldn't possibly afford one."
"You never know. Anyway, it doesn't hurt to dream big, Anna."
She smiled at the sound of him saying her name with what seemed genuine affection. An unexpected warm rush swept over her—instantly followed by an icy blast of guilt that extinguished it. Good grief, what had come over her just now? Clark had a wife and a son at home. What was she thinking?
"Well, thank you, Clark. I'll let you get to it." She abruptly turned to leave and, feeling her cheeks heat up with embarrassment, she hurried up to the house. She hoped he hadn't noticed anything. Really, when had she become so silly?
She spent the rest of the afternoon sorting through things in the attic, but by the time she needed to quit, she felt fairly certain that she'd found just about anything that would be of use to Hazel. Still, it was interesting going down memory lane, and it would probably be helpful that she'd piled several useless boxes of old store ledgers and papers by the window to be tossed out later, when she was ready to make a big bonfire outside.
But right now, she needed to get herself cleaned up and dinner started. Her only question was, What about Clark? Did he intend to stay for dinner? And if so, did he intend to spend the night? And, if so, where would he stay? She could offer him a cot down in the store. Or maybe he'd want to stay in the cabin with his mother, although that would be rather cozy. She wasn't comfortable offering him one of the bedrooms in the house. That was too cozy for
her
comfort.
So after she cleaned herself up—taking the time to pin her hair up, which wasn't nearly as comfortable as the braids had been—she went to see Hazel, asking her if she knew what Clark's plans were.
Hazel looked up, in a blurry sort of way, from where she'd been peering intently at one of the story notebooks. "Clark?" she asked absently.
"Yes, your son. Remember?"Anna smiled. "Will he be staying for dinner? And if so, does he plan to stay overnight. I realize he's rather stuck here without a boat or car and—"
"Oh, Clark is gone, dear." Hazel waved her hand in a dismissive way. "Don't concern yourself with him."
"Gone?"Anna blinked. What had he done, floated down the river?
"Yes, didn't you hear the boat? That nice Henry fellow picked Clark up, just like he'd promised, on his way back to town. Clark is probably back in the hotel by now."
"Oh." Anna nodded. "I see."
"So when did you say dinner would be?" She looked at her watch. "Six-thirty?"
"Yes." Anna stepped out of the doorway. "I'll see you then." As she walked back to the house, she felt disappointed that she hadn't been able to tell Clark good-bye. And at the same time she felt silly for feeling disappointed. It was probably best that he'd left just like he'd come—suddenly and without ado.
Hazel was flushed with excitement when she came to dinner." Oh, I just translated the most wonderful story of your grandmother's." And as they ate, Hazel went on to tell the story of why the river sparkles like stars. Of course, the tale was very familiar, but Anna didn't say anything because she could see how much Hazel was enjoying herself.
"Long, long ago," Hazel launched into the telling, "the tribe on one side of the river owned all the stars in the sky, and naturally the tribe on the other side wanted the stars for themselves."
"Naturally." Anna smiled as she passed Hazel the peas.
"Fortunately, neither tribe was particularly warlike, but they were not opposed to sneaking over in the middle of the night to quietly steal the stars from each other." Hazel chuckled. "And these moonlight raids went on for some time, the two tribes stealing the stars back and forth until I suppose even the stars were confused. Then one time, the tribe who were the original owners of the stars had the stars back in their custody again, and they didn't want to lose them. So that night they all stayed awake—waiting for the star thieves to arrive."