Sweetheart Cottage (Cranberry Bay #1) (11 page)

“Can Raisin stay too?” Lauren gazed at him and her eyes filled with hope.

Bryan raised his right eyebrow and looked at Rylee. “We’d love to have an extra player.”

A shadow crossed Rylee’s face. “I don’t know. I should get home. I want to see what happened in the backyard with the pipes.”

“The pipes will still be there later,” Bryan said, pleading with his eyes for her to stay. “Jim will have turned off the water anyway.” He shifted his weight onto his left leg.

“Please.” Lauren pressed up against Raisin. “I really like your dog.” She cleared her throat. “And I bet I might really like you too.”

Bryan chuckled. Lauren had Sawyer’s way of charming everyone to get what she wanted.

“Well,” Rylee gazed at Lauren, as a softness stretched across her face. “Okay. Just for a little while. But Raisin will need to dry off before he can be in your house.”

“Not a problem,” Bryan said, his voice light. “We have plenty of towels.”

Behind them, a porch light turned on and the front door opened. Rebecca stood framed in the golden light. She wore a pair of black slacks and a cream sweater. Her gray hair encircled her round face.

“Lauren, please bring your bike under the porch. It’s pouring.”

“Coming Grandma!” Lauren rolled her bike up the walkway as Rylee, Bryan, and Raisin followed behind.

“What a mess the rain dragged in.” Rebecca held open the door wide. “Come in. I’m just about to build a fire. Someone take this dog to the back porch and dry him off.”

“I’ll start the fire, Mom.” Bryan leaned over and kissed his Mom on the cheek. “Why don’t you sit down? Lauren can take care of Raisin.”

“You know I can’t sit down,” Rebecca said, and smiled at Bryan. “I’ve got groceries in the car. I was planning to make a big pot of chili tonight.” She turned to Rylee. “Rylee Harper. It’s so good see you again. I’m so sorry about your grandmother.”

“Thank you,” Rylee said, her voice gentle.

“What happened to your grandmother?” Lauren danced in the door. She ignored Bryan’s command to take Raisin to the backdoor. Raisin trailed after her and sat down. Water ran off his fur and onto the hardwood floors of the front entryway.

“She died.” Rylee took the towel Bryan held out to her. She toweled Raisin dry. After Raisin was dry, she pulled off her boots and set them under the bench near the front door.

“My mother died.” Lauren dropped to the ground and yanked off her shoes. She wiggled her toes inside her thick navy socks. “I miss her.”

“I miss my grandmother too,” Rylee replied.

Bryan padded in his socked feet to her. He placed his hand lightly on Rylee’s back. He felt her tense and then relax against his touch.

“Lauren.” Rebecca rubbed her granddaughter’s hair through her forefinger and thumb. “Why don’t you go into the kitchen? I’ve got brownies on the counter for you.”

“Brownies!” Lauren hopped up and twirled down the hallway toward the kitchen. Raisin trailed after her.

Rebecca straightened. She placed her hand on her left knee as a flash of pain crossed her face.

“Mom?” Bryan leapt to her side.

“It’s nothing,” Rebecca said, tension etched in her voice. “Just the damp weather makes my knee hurt, I suppose.”

“Have you seen a doctor?” Bryan asked.

Mom never liked doctors. She said all it took to heal was a little time and some rest. The only time Bryan had ever seen Mom go to a doctor was after Dad died. She hadn’t been sleeping and finally broke down to ask for a prescription to help her sleep at night.

“I’m fine,” Rebecca said. “Please don’t worry about me. But maybe I will take you up on that offer to sit down right now. Can you and Rylee manage the groceries?”

“Of course.”

Worry filled Bryan’s chest. Sawyer had been right. Mom wasn’t okay, and she was trying to hide her illness from them. In the morning, he’d sit down with her and convince her to make an appointment to see their longtime family doctor.

Ten minutes later, Bryan and Rylee had unloaded eight sacks of groceries onto the kitchen counter. Rebecca sat at the kitchen table and sipped a tall glass of ice water.

Bryan reached into the bags and pulled out cans of pumpkin. “What’s all this? Thanksgiving isn’t for another week.”

“The store was having a special on Thanksgiving ingredients. It’s my favorite holiday, and I can’t wait to start baking pies.” Rebecca peered out the kitchen window as rain lashed against the windowpanes. “I might start this evening. It’s a good night to be at home. The flood warnings are up for the rivers. The library board canceled their monthly meeting. I hear the City Council isn’t meeting tonight either.”

Rebecca turned to Rylee. “Why don’t you join us for Thanksgiving? If you don’t have plans.”

Bryan stepped up behind Rylee. He rubbed her lower back. “That’s a great idea.”

“Thank you,” Rylee said, flushing. “I’d like that. I’ll dig out my grandmother’s recipes and see if I can find the bread she used to make.”

Rebecca leaned against the counter. A grimace crossed her face.

“Why don’t you rest tonight?” Bryan pulled out a large skillet and two cutting boards. He placed the wooden boards side-by-side. He grabbed two tomatoes and handed one to Rylee. She stepped up beside him and methodically cut into her tomatoes into small chunks. “If the flood warnings are up, Adam will be down from his cabin at the mountain park. Last time he stayed during floods, a mudslide caught him up there for three days.”

“I haven’t heard from him, yet.” Rebecca peered out the window “He’ll most likely stay until the last possible minute to make sure everything gets taken care of at the campgrounds. How’s your Dad, Rylee?”

Rylee stiffened. “He’s fine. Thank you.”

“We would love to see him again in Cranberry Bay.” Rebecca shook her head and smiled. “I had such a crush on him in high school. He was a few years older than me, and I thought the world of him. We all did. We all hoped he might come back to Cranberry Bay to visit. But he never did.”

Rylee’s mouth tightened. Her knife moved up and down as she sliced through the tomatoes, sending small spurts of juice spraying against the tiled back wall of the kitchen.

Bryan leaned closer to her. “Take it easy on those vegetables. No one is getting hurt here.”

Rylee eased back on the knife, but she didn’t smile. Her hands gripped the handle and turned white.

Before Bryan could say anything. Lauren flew into the kitchen from the mudroom. Raisin ran behind her.

“Did you know they’re closing my elementary school?” She stuffed the brownie the rest of the way into her mouth. Crumbs dropped onto the kitchen floor, and Raisin gobbled them up.

“Not yet,” Bryan said. Rumors in the small town flew easily and frequently. The last thing Lauren needed was more change. She’d had enough to deal with over the last two years with her mother dying.

“They told everyone today at a special assembly. Some of the teachers cried.” Lauren balled her hands into fists and pumped the air. “We have to go to the beach school. The bus ride is over twenty minutes, and I get car sick.” She clutched her stomach and stumbled around the kitchen.

“Why are they closing your school?” Rylee slid the cut tomatoes off the cutting board and into a silver bowl.

“There aren’t enough kids in Cranberry Bay.” Lauren sidled up to her. “I think you should move here and get married. I bet you have a lot of friends. You could encourage your friends to move here too. Everyone could have kids, and I could see Raisin every day.”

Rylee flushed a deep red and turned to Bryan. “They’re closing the elementary school?”

“It looks like it,” Bryan said gruffly. “I hoped it wasn’t true, and they were going to give it more time before a decision was made. The student population has dropped so much they don’t have the tax dollars to run the school any more.”

The room felt claustrophobic to Bryan. Everything closed in on him. Once the school closed, Cranberry Bay had no hope of recruiting families. He’d seen it happen up and down the small coastal towns. Without dairy farms or tourists to sustain them, the towns died. Now it would happen to Cranberry Bay. The town he loved was dying, and he wasn’t going to be in time to save it.

Bryan dropped his sliced tomatoes into the bowl. It was time to approach the City Council about his plan. He had to move forward, even if the bet hadn’t quite been won yet. If the town knew about the riverboats, then maybe it would give everyone hope, and they could hold on a little longer before closing the elementary school. It was his only chance to save the town and the people he cared about the most.

Rylee wiped her hands on her full-length denim apron and surveyed the staged cottage. The freshly painted walls glowed creamy white in the lamplight. A couple of old apple carts were turned upside down and placed as nightstands next to the wrought-iron double bed. Blue glass jars filled with fake daisies sat on each nightstand and complimented the patchwork quilt tossed over the bottom of the bed. A white comforter lay across the bed, on top of which was a thick pillow. It was framed with an old painted door she’d used as a headboard. A pile of wood lay in the fireplace. A basket of marshmallows, graham crackers, and toasting sticks was arranged inside a metal bucket beside a white rocking chair with blue-striped cushions. Two white pillar candles rested on the wooden coffee table. A two-person denim loveseat sat against the wall. The room smelled of cinnamon from a glowing candle on the small kitchen counter.

At the round, two-person table, Maddie painted glass mason jars a light white. She wore a canvas apron splattered with paint splotches. Beside her sat a stack of red-and-white straws and a wooden tray. It’d been Maddie’s idea to turn the mason jars into lemonade glasses, and Rylee couldn’t help but agree. The painted glass added a nice touch to their last cottage. It was her favorite; it had been the one in which she’d once told Bryan how much she loved him.

At first, she’d been afraid of the memories that threatened to engulf her when she opened the door. But after two weeks of working on the other cottages, it’d become obvious she couldn’t wait any longer to start staging the final one. And when she did open the door, she’d found the cottage stripped bare. The light-blue curtains she remembered were gone. The kitchen cabinets no longer held stray fishing gear or random coffee mugs with motivational fishing sayings that made her laugh. Instead, the cottage was a blank slate, something she dove into with gusto. She had wanted to capture the feeling she once had when she believed nothing could ever stand in the way of their love for each other.

Rylee grabbed a white bakery bag from the kitchen counter and pulled out an oatmeal raisin cookie. She broke it in half and placed one part on a napkin in front of Maddie. “Hungry?”

“This is so much fun.” Maddie looked up at Rylee. Her eyes glowed. She waved her paintbrush in the air like a flag.

“You’ve been a big help,” Rylee said, and smiled. “I honestly don’t know how I could have done it without you.”

Maddie’s youthful ideas had brought an innocent charm to the cottages. A bright orange pillow picked up at a garage sale one Saturday, which Rylee was sure would never work anywhere, had fit easily into what they were calling the sunflower cottage. A playful pink flamingo statue was tucked into the top shelf of the kitchen of the first cottage, beside an assortment of pink water glasses for picnics. But Maddie’s favorite find was an old croquet set, which she’d placed under the eaves of the end cottage closest to the fire pit.

Maddie’s cell phone buzzed in her paisley bag, but she didn’t move to answer it. She hadn’t responded to any of the calls that had come in during the last hour. Rylee knew better than to pry. At the sewing circle, Lisa had confessed it’d been a struggle getting Maddie to attend school. She had finally enrolled Maddie in an online program and gave up fighting with her to go to school in Cranberry Bay. After recognizing Maddie’s interest in the antique shop, Ivy had found a place for Maddie. She asked her to organize items and package things to mail out to online sales customers. In the hours Rylee and Maddie worked together, Maddie didn’t talk about her friends, school, or life in Seattle. But she wasn’t withdrawn and sullen either. She enjoyed chatting with Rylee about design work and asked a lot of thoughtful questions. Maddie usually stopped by Sasha’s bakery and purchased a couple pastries, which she shared with Rylee before getting started on the day’s activities.

Rylee had decided her most important job was to build Maddie’s trust in her. She remembered all too well her own days of working and trying to hide her Dad’s gambling addiction from prying adults who wanted to know too much about her. Her grandparents’ home was the only place she felt nurtured and cherished, without someone feeling sorry for her or having to explain her father’s problems. She wanted to give the same to Maddie.

Rylee walked to the window and gazed down on the rushing river. “Maddie. Does the river seem like it has risen?”

Maddie stuck her brush into a can of water and walked to the window that overlooked a small wooden porch above the river. “I can’t tell. But I’m sure if it was going to flood, Bryan would have sandbags.”

“Mmmm…” Rylee nodded absently as two pairs of headlights flashed across the cottage windows and cast shadows along the walls.

In minutes, Bryan strode through the door. His presence filled the small room as water ran off his coat and onto the red doormat. Rylee’s heart leaped, the way it always did every time she saw him.

“Maddie,” he said sharply. “Lisa and Sawyer have been calling your cell phone for hours. Why didn’t you answer?”

Maddie shrugged. “I didn’t hear it.”

Rylee frowned. They’d both heard her cell phone.

“Go on before you get in any more trouble.” Bryan waved at the door. “Lisa is waiting for you in the car. The road to Sawyer’s will be washed out if the rain keeps up.”

Maddie hopped from the table. She stepped to the small sink and ran her paintbrush underneath a slow trickle of water.

“Is the water pressure low in here?” Bryan strode to the sink. He reached around Maddie and turned up the faucet. The water flowed freely.

Maddie maneuvered herself away from Bryan. “I liked it that way,” she mumbled.

Rylee’s heart ached for both Maddie and Bryan. She heard the way Maddie talked about the things she used to do with her family in Cranberry Bay, and Rylee saw her strong need and desire to somehow be a part of her family again. Rylee also knew it could be hard to connect with teenagers sometimes. But she hoped the two of them would at least find a way back to the special bond they’d once shared.

“See you tomorrow?” Maddie laid her paintbrush on a paper towel and walked over to her colorful, floral bag. It’d been an antique shop find a few weeks ago. Katie had worked with her to sew on a new strap. Maddie hefted the bag onto her shoulders.

“We should have everything finalized tomorrow. I want to do a final run-through of each cottage and make sure we didn’t forget something.” Rylee consulted her yellow tablet with the scratched off list. “But it looks like we’re done after tomorrow. Your painted jars are the last thing to put in place.” She smiled at Maddie. She hoped the girl felt reassured by the job she had done.

“Okay.” Maddie’s face fell as she pulled on her long, black coat. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Thank you. Great job today.”

Maddie gave Rylee a small smile. She ducked her head and slipped outside into the early evening darkness.

Bryan shut the door behind Maddie and faced Rylee. He leaned against the wall and his blue eyes glowed intently at her. Her face flushed. She had tried not to think about his kiss, but it seemed to be the only thing filling her waking hours.

Rylee picked up the tray for the glass jars. She set it on the counter and returned to the table, standing by a chair to steady herself.

Bryan walked behind her and set his hands lightly on her shoulder. He massaged her neck, and his fingers smoothed away her tension. Trying hard not to groan, Rylee surrendered to his touch. Rain pounded on the roof and against the windows. The candle glowed on the table.

“Bryan…” Rylee’s voice sounded hoarse to her, and her knees felt weak. She grasped the back of the chair as Bryan’s hands continued to do a dance alongside her neck.

“Cold?” Bryan whispered against her neck. “I can start a fire. Someone has set out logs for us.”

“Mmmm…” Rylee breathed as she closed her eyes and leaned back into Bryan’s arms. “A fire would be great. The matches are in the kitchen. Top drawer.”

“Got it.”

Rylee walked to the couch and sank down against the blue-and-white striped pillows. Raisin, sleeping on a thick dog bed she had made for him at the last sewing circle, let out a small yip. Her heart pounded as she tucked her legs underneath her and settled back on the couch. When Bryan touched her, she felt herself sing with the pleasure of coming home to a place she only found with him, a place she wanted to last forever. And maybe, she thought, maybe it was possible to stay in this place forever. She loved being a part of the women’s sewing circle and making plans for the holiday vintage market. She enjoyed spending time in Bryan’s kitchen with his Mom and niece, Lauren. It reminded her of being with Grandma and Grandpa. Maybe she could trust Dad had kicked his gambling habit this time and didn’t need her. Maybe.

Bryan kneeled on the floor in front of the fireplace. He carefully tucked newspaper and a few pieces of kindling under the logs and lit a match. The fire smoked, and, as the paper caught, the small sticks smoldered under the heat.

“I think that’ll do it.” He leaned back on his heels. “It should be warm in here in no time.”

Rylee smiled at him as he settled himself on the couch beside her and picked up her hand. He threaded their fingers together and caressed the inside of her wrist with his thumb. She shivered with his touch.

The fire outlined his profile and turning, Rylee ran her hand alongside his face. “Bryan,” she breathed.

Bryan shifted and gathered her in his arms. He lowered his mouth to hers, and she surrendered to the kiss.

* * *

“My Dad used to say his favorite part of a storm was a cozy fire.” Rylee curled deeper into Bryan’s arms. “We don’t get very many stormy days in Vegas. But when it rains, he always liked to build a fire and read his paper.”

“Where is your Dad, Rylee?” Bryan thumbed circles on her lower arm and smoothed a strand of hair from her forehead. Rylee had never talked much about her Dad. He assumed she tired of talking about his baseball days.

Rylee stared straight into the fire. “He lives in Vegas.” Her voice sounded strangled and cold.

“Rylee?” Bryan touched her arm.

Rylee stood and walked to the window overlooking the river. She crossed her arms, as if trying to hold it all inside, and said, “Dad is not who everyone believes him to be. He has a gambling addiction. He has struggled with it since I was a child.”

Raisin shook himself and ambled over to her. He leaned his nose against her leg. She reached down and stroked his back.

Bryan stepped up beside her. “Is that why he never comes back home?” Bryan wanted to gather Rylee into his arms and hold her. He wanted to tell her Dad’s history didn’t matter. What mattered was the love that existed between them.

“Dad spent all the money he made playing his one season in baseball on gambling. Mom supported him until she died. Then I picked up what I could. Grandma and Grandpa sent money sometimes. They tried to keep it from everyone in town. They knew people would be disappointed if they found out what had really happened to their hero.”

“Is that why you never returned to Cranberry Bay?”

Rylee turned around to face Bryan, anguish in her eyes. “The morning after you proposed, I got a call from the Las Vegas Police Department. They’d arrested Dad for fighting. He didn’t have anyone to bail him out. When I got there, he promised he’d stop gambling. He said he just needed to get back on his feet. I believed him, and I believed I was going to come back to Cranberry Bay.”

“But he didn’t get back on his feet?”

“No,” Rylee said, her voice choked with sobs. “He didn’t. At first, everything was fine. I even made reservations for plane tickets to return for the holidays. At Thanksgiving, he started gambling again. After that, it was always the same. He’d win big and promise never to return to the tables. Then a few days later, he’d lose it all and end up sleeping on my couch.”

“And your grandmother gave you the house but not him.”

“After I inherited the house, I felt terrible. Dad wouldn’t talk to me for weeks. He was so angry. I promised Dad we’d share the proceeds, and I’d buy us a place in San Diego. I hoped he would get away from gambling.” She bent her head and studied the floor.

“You can’t stop his gambling, Rylee.” Bryan placed his arms around her and pulled her close. “It’s not your fault he has an addiction. You can’t change that addiction. Only he can change it.”

“I know.” Tears streamed down Rylee’s face. “But he’s the only family I have left. I can’t just leave him. He needs me. What will he do without me? Live on the street?”

Rylee slipped out of Bryan’s arms. She pulled on her jacket and called Raisin to her side. Quickly, she opened the door and stepped into the rainy night.

Anguished, Bryan tossed a small bucket of water onto the dying flames in the fireplace. She’d trusted him enough to tell him why she couldn’t stay in Cranberry Bay, but it didn’t change anything. Rylee believed her Dad needed her. She believed she could save her Dad from himself. She would leave again, taking his heart with her, and there was nothing he could do to stop her.

Rylee’s scream cut through the silent night. He raced to the door and threw it open to find the river overflowing its banks.