River's Song - The Inn at Shining Waters Series (12 page)

Now Hazel lowered her voice, very much like Grandma Pearl used to do. "And they watched from behind the trees as the thieves once again stole their stars. Only this time the original owners followed the thieves, finally stopping them at the river. Well, the original owners must've been quite fed up because on this night, a great battle arose with both tribes fighting over who rightfully owned the stars." Hazel paused to catch her breath.

"And the stars were caught in the middle of the battle,"Anna continued for her in a dramatic voice. "And they didn't like to see the fighting, so hundreds of the stars leaped from the sky, plummeting right into the river. And the rest of the stars spread themselves out so there would be enough for everyone and so the people would quit fighting. And to this day, that is why the river sparkles like there are stars in it."

Hazel grinned. "That is right!"

"I used to love that story." Anna split open a biscuit. "It was my favorite bedtime story. I loved that the stars would do that just to bring peace."

"It's a lovely story. And one I've never heard before." Hazel reached for the butter. "And it reminded me of Clark and Roselyn and Marshall."

"Is Roselyn Clark's wife?"

"Ex-wife." Hazel frowned. "But when she left Clark for Larry back when Marshall was only six, there was a custody battle for Marshall. Naturally, the mother won—mothers almost always do. But the problem was that she and Larry wanted to move down here to Oregon for his work, which seemed unfair since Clark was building homes up near Seattle."

"That does seem unfair."

"So Clark was like the stars in your grandmother's story—he made the sacrifice, sold his business, and moved down here and started all over again, just so he could still be near his boy." She chuckled. "And then I followed him. That's why I'm at the university, you know."

Anna was nodding, trying to take all this in.

"And now . . . poor Clark, after all he's done, his sacrifices, now his boy is treating him like the enemy."

"I'm sure his son will grow out of it," she said quietly.

"Yes, you're probably right. At least I hope so."

"Did Clark ever remarry?"

Hazel sadly shook her head. "No. I tease him about that sometimes, telling him that he'll never find a good woman as long as he stays married to his job. That's one of the reasons I asked him to come over to the coast. I thought it would force him to take a little break. Of course, I'm a fine one to talk since I'm somewhat wed to my job too. I suppose it runs in the family. But I do wish he'd slow down, take time to smell the roses so to speak."

"Yes. That's something I'm just learning to do myself."

"What an enchanting place you have to do it in too."

And that was absolutely true. This was a wonderful place to slow down and live life more fully. Anna reminded herself of this very fact as she sat outside watching the moon rise over the river later that evening—it was enchanting. It was just that this part of the river could be a very lonely place too. Of course, she reminded herself, she'd rather be lonely here on the beautiful river than back in Pine Ridge. Because the truth was, that had been lonely too.

Energized by Hazel's praise and encouragement and the inspiration that she might actually turn her property into a profitable inn, Anna worked harder than she'd ever worked before. Yet at each day's end, she never felt as bone-tired as she'd been while working for her mother-in-law. "I suppose that's the difference between freedom and slavery," she told Hazel one evening as they relaxed in the wicker chairs on the front porch of the store—or rather what used to be the store. Anna was starting to call it the inn now.

"It is surprising how industry is impacted by ownership." Hazel patted the rocking chair arms. "You did a lovely job on renovating these old chairs, Anna."

Anna had found the pair of old rockers in the attic a few days ago. After cleaning them up, she'd used her basketweaving skills to repair the seats, then sewn cushions from old pillows to pad them even more. "I remember when I was little and my parents would sit out here in these chairs." She looked out over the river, which reflected the colors of the sunset—rose and peach and lilac. "And sometimes it would just be Daddy, Grandma, and me. And sometimes she would tell a story."

"Do you think all of her stories were from ancestors? Or is it possible she created some of them herself?"

Anna thought about it. "To be honest, I thought she made up all of them herself. As a child, I didn't really understand how stories were passed on from generation to generation. And I knew that so much had been lost. I feel sad now thinking of all the things I never thought to ask her. All the history I might've gotten from her, things that would help you too."

"You were a child, Anna. How would you know? Besides, your father did a lovely job of saving things. He must've loved you and his mother-in-law a lot. That's quite a heritage, if you ask me."

"Daddy was a very special man."

"You mentioned that he came from Sweden, but not much else about his history."

"It's funny, isn't it? I know less about my own father than my grandmother. Although I have found a box of letters and things of his in the attic. Some are from Sweden, although I can't read them since they're in Swedish, at least I assume that's what it is."

"You could get them translated."

"Maybe I will someday when I have time. But Daddy never spoke much of Sweden. I got the feeling he wanted to forget about it."

"What brought him way out here, I wonder."

Anna laughed. "The gold, of course. He'd heard there was still gold to be found down in southern Oregon. But he soon realized he wasn't cut out to be a miner. So he came up here to work as a logger. Daddy was young and big and strong, and he used to fell trees with a diameter wider than he was tall. And not with power saws either. But he hurt his back and had to look for another line of work. And then he met my mother and they decided to open this store."

"I wonder how they could afford to start it up. A young couple like that—he being an immigrant, she being an Indian."

"Oh, that was because of Babette." By now, Hazel had met Babette, and the two had gotten along wonderfully. "Her husband, Pierre, had been a good friend of Daddy's and Pierre had struck it rich down on the Rogue. After his death, Babette came up here. My parents were already married and Daddy wasn't logging anymore, but they were trying to get the store started up by selling things from a little house Daddy had built for them." Anna pointed down to the dock. "It was gone by the time I was born. But it used to be right down there, next to the river."

"What happened to the building?"

"Daddy took it apart and used the lumber to make the outhouses." Anna laughed. "I remember him saying that it hadn't been much bigger than an outhouse anyway."

"Because Babette was a partner in the store, they were able to build bigger and better, and they could afford to stock it with good merchandise. Babette used to help to buy for the store. That's how she met Bernard, her second husband. He didn't really like Babette working for the store though. And it wasn't long until Daddy paid Babette back every penny of her investment with interest. I remember him saying it wasn't good for friends to owe friends for anything except friendship. And Babette was one of our closest friends. Like an aunt to me."

"She's a lovely woman."

Anna looked out over the dusky blue light now blanketing the river. "You know, Hazel, I am almost perfectly happy right now."

"Almost?"

"I just wish that things were different between Lauren and me."

Hazel nodded. "There might not be much you can do about that, dear. Speaking from experience, daughters sometimes take time to appreciate their mothers."

Anna sighed. "I'm afraid I might be reaping what I sowed."

"Yes. But I didn't really understand her. And I never made much effort to get back here to see her."

"But you loved your mother."

"But that was understandable. With a baby, a seriously ill husband, a controlling mother-in-law . . . what choice did you have?"

"If I'd been stronger, I would've figured out a way to come back. I would've brought Lauren. Maybe Adam too. Maybe he would've gotten well if he'd been here." Anna felt a lump in her throat.

"There are no sadder words than
what might've been."

Anna just nodded.

"Except that you have to let them go, dear. As much as I love history—and you know that I do—we cannot wallow in the mistakes of the past. Look at your grandmother, Anna, she didn't wallow now, did she?"

Anna couldn't help chuckling. "No. Grandma Pearl was not one to wallow in anything."

"And neither are you."

"I hope that's true."

"How long does it take to get to the ocean?" Hazel asked suddenly. "I mean if I were to plan a trip to the beach. How long would it take me to get there from here?"

"Well, you know how long it takes to get down the river to Florence. Then it's another fifteen minutes or so by car. You have to go around the jetty, either south over the bridge, or north over to Heceta, to get to a beach." Anna was surprised." You haven't been to the beach yet?"

"Not yet. I was so anxious to begin my work up the river, I never took the time." She stood. "When was the last time you were at the beach, Anna?"

"Oh,"Anna stood too, "goodness, it's been quite some time. Probably before I was married."

Hazel turned on her flashlight beam now, shining it over toward her cabin and meandering that way. "One of these days, you and I will have to take a holiday and go to the beach," she called over her shoulder. "You know what they say about all work and no play."

Anna laughed. "I know what they say, but I'm enjoying my work so much that it almost feels like play to me."

Hazel stopped and turned and grinned. "I know exactly what you mean, Anna. Goodnight now."

Anna said goodnight, waiting until she saw the light go on in the cabin before she turned off the porch light. Just like Daddy used to do for Grandma. Then instead of going into the house, she went inside the old store and looked around. This was part of her future inn. Or so she was telling herself. And that was what had motivated her the past few days to clear and clean out this space. She'd moved some of the shelving units into the back room and some of them were simply pushed up against the wall so that at the moment it was simply a very large open space. But she could imagine it differently. With some interior walls, she felt it could be divided into four rather comfortable rooms.

She imagined each with its own private outdoor entrance, and some new large picture windows to let in light. Two rooms would overlook the river, and the other two would look out toward the woods. Combined with the two extra bedrooms upstairs (not counting her own) that would make six rooms that could be rented, plus the cabin. What she couldn't quite figure out now was the bathrooms. She thought perhaps the back room, which was now used for storage, might be able to be worked into some sort of bathroom with showers. And since it already had a sink plumbed into it—something her mother had insisted upon for reasons of hygiene—that might simplify matters.

In the meantime, if she really did manage to lure some poor unsuspecting guests up here, she hoped they would be goodnatured outdoorsy types who wouldn't protest over using an outhouse. Or maybe this was simply a pipe dream. But she'd been going over her finances, budgeting for what she thought she might need, and unless she was overlooking something, she thought she might be able to do this. Or at least try.

She turned off the lights and the generator, then, using her own flashlight, went upstairs where she lit a kerosene lamp and sat down at the kitchen table to go over her notes regarding her inn. She was calling it The Inn at Shining Waters to honor her grandmother. As she went over the figures again, she felt hopeful enough to make the decision to order a few things, including a new mattress to replace the one she'd put in the cabin. Her plan was to get the spare bedrooms up here into shape for renting initially. She'd already cleaned them and removed all personal items. Next she would repaint them and replace the curtains and linens and things to make them look welcoming—like what she'd done in the cabin.

She would also order another pair of beds to go downstairs. Even without the additional windows, doors, and walls that she hoped to put in someday, she felt she could make the space habitable and comfortable for hunters or fishermen in the interim. The dark fir floors were handsome, albeit a bit worn, and the wood-burning stove still worked. With a braided rug and a couple of comfortable chairs, it might even be cozy. She would put up some plaid curtains and add some rustic touches to make it look like a hunting lodge.

As Anna got ready for bed, she knew she had an ulterior motive for doing all this work—something that would reward her efforts even more than the possibility of making an income. She hoped that once the place was nicely fixed up, she would be able to entice Lauren to come out here. If she could convince her that it had been transformed into a nice little river inn, complete with telephones and electricity, perhaps Lauren might even invite her friends to accompany her on a little summer vacation before going off to college. With recreational possibilities on the river and the nearby beach, it seemed entirely feasible. At least that was what Anna was telling herself—and that was what drove her to work so hard. She was doing it for Lauren as much as she was doing it for herself.

After breakfast was cleaned up, Anna made a list of things she wanted to get in town. Unfortunately, she'd been unable to start the engine on Daddy's old boat, but she planned to canoe over to Babette's. If nothing else, she could place a phone order for more groceries. Or perhaps Babette would be planning a trip into town and she could tag along with her. Or she might get lucky and spot Henry coming or going. She could wave him down and catch a ride, and perhaps, if he wasn't too pressed for time, he'd be willing to take a look at Daddy's old motor because Anna knew she would either need to get it fixed or replace it. One couldn't live on the river without transportation. And a dugout canoe just wouldn't suffice—especially in bad weather.

She had just changed her clothes and was going for her canoe when she heard an engine. But it wasn't coming from the river. She went over to the back of the house to see a blue pickup driving onto her property, right through the grassy meadow directly toward her garden, which was already showing signs of life. Angry that whoever was trespassing so recklessly might drive right through her garden, she ran over, waving her arms and shouting, "Stop! stop!"

The pickup truck stopped and to her surprise, Clark jumped out. "Is something wrong?" he called out with concern.

"Oh!" She hurried over. "I just didn't want you to drive through my garden." She pointed to where the young plants were just beginning to sprout. "I was afraid you couldn't see it because of the meadow."

He nodded. "You're right, I couldn't."

"What are you doing out here anyway?" She felt her heart give a little lurch at the color of those eyes again: like the river on a clear October day—deep topaz blue.

"The power and light guys are on their way, as well as the telephone company. I scheduled them both for today. I was afraid they might've gotten here before me." He looked around a bit nervously. "They didn't, did they?"

"No. No one's been here."

Hazel was walking toward them now. "I thought I heard a vehicle," she called out. "What are you doing here?"

He explained and they hugged. "I didn't know you'd be coming out again," she told him. "But it's a pleasure to see you."

"I just wanted to make sure things were done right," he told them. "This is a lovely parcel of land and it needs to be protected as much as possible. However, that will take some work." He looked at his mother now. "It might be better if you ladies weren't here during the installation process. It will probably get loud and messy." He glanced uneasily at Anna. "And stressful."

Hazel nodded as if considering this. Now she pointed to the pickup. "Do you need your truck today, Son?"

He shrugged. "Not once I unload some tools and things."

"Maybe I could borrow your truck and take Anna to the beach."

"That's a great idea, Mom."

"But I—"

"Remember about all work no play," Hazel told her. "And wouldn't it be a lovely day to go to the beach?"

Anna considered this. "I suppose so. Do you think I could run a couple errands in town before we come back?"

"I don't see why not."

So Anna and Hazel hurried to get what they'd need and Anna told Clark to make himself at home. "We'll be back before dark," Hazel promised.

"How do you get to the beach from here?"Anna asked suddenly." I've never been on the road back there before."

Clark explained which turns to take and just like that, with Hazel at the wheel, they were on their way. "Well, this sure wasn't what I expected to be doing today,"Anna told her as they bumped along through the meadow and then through a dirty path that cut between the trees and eventually turned into an uneven gravel road.

"Here come the power and light boys," Hazel said as a big truck forced them to pull off the road to allow them access. Not long after that, the truck from the telephone company forced them off again. "I think Clark was smart to send us packing today," she told Anna. "It'll probably be rather hectic at your place."