Sweetheart Cottage (Cranberry Bay #1) (12 page)

Rylee lifted one wet foot from the pool of water. Her car tires were submerged in at least a foot of water that had risen to within a few feet of the cottage. She hadn’t meant to scream, but she’d been so surprised to find herself wading in the thick and muddy river water, she couldn’t help it.

“Rylee!” Bryan stood in the lit doorframe. “Don’t move. I’ll be right there.” His deep voice boomed across the courtyard.

“I’m fine.” Rylee spoke above the rain, which poured down in buckets. “But my car is flooded.”

Bryan slipped back into the cottage, and Rylee stared at the muddy water covering the courtyard. The croquet set floated beside the barbecue. The flowerpots floated beside the picnic table. It would take days to bring the gravel paths and grassy yard back to where the cottages could be shown with some confidence of attracting a buyer. Rylee wiped rain away from her eyes. At the rate of this storm, it looked like the river hadn’t even begun its damage yet.

Bryan splashed across the flooded yard. “We’ll take my truck. The wheels sit higher than your car.” He held out his hand to her. She easily slipped hers into his warm one.

He squeezed her palm. “Ready?”

Rylee nodded. She held onto Raisin’s leash and guided the dog to Ryan’s truck. He stepped beside her and unlocked the passenger-side door.

Bryan looked into her eyes. “I’m glad we were together for the storm.”

Rylee’s heart turned over as she gazed into his blue eyes. She reached up and ran her hand along his cheek. “I am too.”

Bryan took her hand from his cheek. He wrapped his fingers with hers and placed them both next to his heart. For a minute, neither of them said a word.

Raisin nosed his body in between the two of them, and Rylee pulled away.

Bryan turned and unlocked the backdoor. Raisin jumped into the backseat while Rylee slipped into the passenger side. She reached over to unlock Bryan’s door. Bryan slipped into the driver’s side and reached into the middle console to pull out his cell phone. “I’ll get a couple people to help sandbag. The river hasn’t flooded like this in over two decades.”

“I’ll help you.” Rylee reached into her bag for her cell phone. She scrolled through the numbers until she found Ivy’s home number.

In minutes, both Rylee and Bryan had secured a handful of people to help with the sandbags. Ivy promised to call Sasha, Gracie, and Katie, while Cole pledged to pick up Mitch and Josh on his way to pick up the sandbags at City Hall. Bryan turned on his windshield wipers and pulled his truck out of the gravel lot. He turned toward the buildings on Main Street.

“Cole will have the back of City Hall opened. He was working late tonight and said he’d been watching the river levels all day. I’ll check on the flood stage with him, but the cottages should be okay as long as we can get them sandbagged tonight.”

Rylee bit her lower lip as Bryan’s tires squealed on the pavement, and he made a sharp right into the back parking lot of a small brick building. A black SUV was parked alongside the building. A tall man hefted sandbags into the back.

“Cole!” Bryan turned off his ignition, opened the door, and stepped out into the rain.

Rylee slipped out of her seatbelt and followed Bryan. She vaguely remembered Cole as one of the boys Bryan hung out with as a teen. Now a tall, full-fledged man, he wore jeans and a dark rain jacket with a blue baseball cap. Cole greeted her and continued his work.

A small red four-door car pulled in behind the black SUV, and Sasha hoped out. “I came as soon as I could.” Her curly hair bounced in a ponytail on top of her head. She stepped over and embraced Rylee in a large hug. “Don’t worry. It’ll all work out.”

Rylee swallowed the lump in her throat at Sasha’s warmth. “Thanks.”

“I’ve grabbed a tray of cookies from the bakery. We’re going to need sustenance for this job, and I’ve got a whole set of colorful cut-out turkeys that are just begging to be eaten. Tyler helped me frost them. I thought he did a really good job, and I might have some competition for my job someday.”

“But those are for Thanksgiving.” Rylee protested.

Sasha shrugged and smiled at her. “I don’t think we’ll be very busy with this kind of storm. I’d rather give everyone a treat now than let them go to waste.”

“Where is Tyler?” Rylee looked around for Sasha’s eight-year-old son.

“He’s with my sister.” Sasha’s voice darkened. “Her family always rents a large house at the beach for the holidays. He wanted to spend the night with his cousins. It’s not something I can ever give him, and I try to let it bother me. But,” she swallowed, “sometimes it does.”

Rylee reached out to hug Sasha. “I bet he loves it. You’re a good Mom.” For a minute her heart constricted. Would she ever get to experience the love of being a mother like Sasha?

“Come on,” Sasha said gruffly. “Let’s get these cars and trucks loaded up with the sandbags. The guys don’t get all the fun around here.”

Ten minutes later, all three cars were loaded with sandbags, and they made a caravan down Main Street toward the cottages. Three more cars parked up the hill from the cottages waited in the dark night. Bryan’s headlights swept across the water-filled parking lot and yard.

“Everyone came to help. I didn’t expect…” The words died in Rylee’s throat.

Bryan reached over and palmed her thigh. “This is how we work in Cranberry Bay. We all pitch in.”

Rylee nodded. She was afraid if she said anything the tears would start. It was what she’d always heard from her grandparents about the storms in the small town: Stories of residents banding together to overcome days without power in high windstorms. Stories of how everyone pitched in to help with meals, food, and childcare. It wasn’t the same as when the power went out in Vegas due to a loss in the grid system. She always huddled in the dark, by herself, hoping that the emergency battery to the security system in her condo had kicked in. In Cranberry Bay, everyone showed up to help out.

Rylee slipped out of the truck as Katie stepped toward her. She placed a blue blanket around her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Rylee fingered the blanket around her shoulders. “This is one of your quilts from the shop.”

Katie looked into her eyes and smiled. “It’s okay. What better way to use a quilt than to help out a good friend? I’m sorry this is the way your romantic evening ended.”

“How did you know?” Rylee asked, wide-eyed and surprised at Katie’s words.

“How did I not know?” Katie said, the smile evident in her voice. “The two of you have been grinning like teenagers every time you are around each other. Your secret is safe with me, unless…” she paused, “the two of you don’t want it to be.”

“I don’t know how to feel right now,” Rylee said. “There are things I have to work out.”

“I’m sure you can work it out,” Ivy said as she stepped up beside them. She clapped her gloved hands together and nodded toward Bryan. “I’ve never seen him as happy as he’s been the last few weeks. He can’t stop talking about you.”

Rylee flushed at the compliment.

“Grab a sandbag.” Cole stood on the bed of Bryan’s truck. “We’ve got work to do.”

The women set up a line and passed the sandbags to each other until a small, stacked row lay beside every cottage and along the riverside.

“That should hold it.” Josh wiped his forehead. He peered down the street to the pub. “I hope they’ve got their sandbags out. They’ll be flooded just like the cottages.”

“Wait a minute.” Sasha ducked into her car and called over her shoulder. “I’ve got something for everyone.” She returned quickly and passed out the colorful decorated turkey cookies. “It won’t hold you for long, but it’s the best I could do at such a short notice.”

“These are great,” Josh said, biting off the head of one of the sugar cookies. “Great icing.”

“That’s Tyler’s work,” Sasha said, her voice echoed with pride. “This was his first job. He’ll be disappointed customers didn’t buy them.”

“He’s a good kid,” Josh said. He swallowed the last of his cookie and wiped his hands on his dark-blue jeans. “I’m sorry Greg didn’t stick around.”

Startled at the mention of Tyler’s Dad, Rylee turned to face Sasha. She had never talked about the father of her son in the sewing circle.

Sasha shifted away from Josh and crumpled a bakery bag. “I better get back. I’m whipping up the pies for my sister’s celebration tomorrow at her beach place.”

In a flurry of good-byes and hugs, Sasha said her goodnights and hopped into her car and pulled out of her space.

“You know not to talk about Greg.” Katie frowned at Josh after Sasha’s car pulled away. “And right before the holidays too.”

“Sorry,” Josh said. “I just feel so bad every time I see that kid without his Dad. It didn’t have to be this way.”

For a minute, Rylee wondered if Josh had feelings for Sasha and that was why he never noticed Ivy.

“Come on.” Katie grabbed napkins from the group clustered around the truck. “I’ll give you a ride home, Rylee. It’s on my way.”

“I’m giving her a ride.” Bryan stepped up beside her. He dropped his arm over her shoulder and squeezed. “Raisin is in the car waiting.” He nodded toward his truck where Raisin peered out the window at them with his nose pressed against the glass.

“Okay.” Katie hugged her. “But call us and let us know if you need anything.” She placed her hands on her hips. “I hope this is the last of it, and nothing happens to those cottages before Colleen can write her article.”

Colleen. In the middle of her evening with Bryan and with the flooding, Rylee had forgotten the interview Colleen was doing with her the day after Thanksgiving. She looked around the dark yard. It’d be a muddy mess for the pictures. Her shoulders tensed. She thought of how everything would look in the daylight. Mud on every surface, pools of water, and the stench of the river everywhere. There wasn’t time to get everything cleaned up.

“Don’t worry.” Bryan drew her closer. “She can take pictures of all the work you did inside the cottage. That’s what counts.”

“I hope you’re right.” Rylee bit down on her lower lip sharply.

“Let me get you home.” Bryan opened the passenger door. Drops of water dripped from Bryan’s broad shoulders, and he shivered. Rylee leaned over and wiped water from his right arm. Her fingers trailed down to his forearms. She removed the blanket from around her body and placed it over his shoulders. “You’re freezing.”

Bryan reached out and picked up her hand. He squeezed lightly and smiled at her. “It’s okay,” he said, still smiling. “Nothing a good hot shower won’t cure.”

Rain pounded on the roof, and Bryan placed his key into the ignition. “We better get out of here before the storm gets worse.” He glanced in the rearview mirror and backed the car up.

In minutes, they pulled up in front of Rylee’s dark home. Rylee shifted to face him. She wanted to say something about the way she’d left the cottage earlier in the evening. “Bryan I…”

“It’s okay.” Bryan leaned over and placed a kiss on her lips. “It’s been a long night. We don’t have to talk about this now. You’re still coming to Mom’s for Thanksgiving tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes,” Rylee said, looking up at him. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Good.” Bryan kissed her again. His lips soft with tenderness. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Rylee entered the dark living room and walked to the hall table. She flicked on the stained-glass table lamp. It’d been a wedding anniversary gift. That summer, Grandma insisted she didn’t need anything. But Grandpa wouldn’t let a moment pass to declare his love for Grandma. Grandpa had asked Rylee to join him on a trip over the mountains to Portland. Rylee enjoyed combing the shops with Grandpa, and both had known the stained-glass lamp was perfect, for Grandma loved all things glass. Grandma had cried when she opened the gift and promised to always leave the light on as a visual display of their everlasting love. Rylee had kept the tradition going and loved seeing the glowing lamp. The light reminded her of the love between her grandparents and of their ever-present spirit.

Rylee followed Raisin into the kitchen. She filled his bowl with a cup of dry food and placed it before him. As Raisin gulped his food, she opened a kitchen cabinet and pulled out Grandma’s old cookbooks. She had planned to donate them to the local library book sale, but hadn’t found the heart to do so yet. Now she flipped open the yellowed and fragile pages. She smiled at her grandmother’s familiar handwriting. Grandma’s notes marked a variation in ingredients or she had scrawled, “Good recipe,” in the margins. Rylee’s heart warmed. It was as if Grandma sat with her and instructed her.

Rylee flipped to a section with breads and slowly scanned recipes. She searched for her grandmother’s pumpkin bread. Her grandmother had made the best pumpkin bread. Every year, she packaged a loaf and mailed it to Rylee. Rylee loved receiving those loaves a day or two before Thanksgiving. She often brought the bread to the office to share.

Rylee studied the recipe. It was listed as a quick bread and didn’t seem too hard. A couple of cans of pumpkin, spices, flour, sugar, and eggs. She pulled a small, white tablet of paper from a basket of pens and other odd jumbled items and jotted down ingredients. Afterward, she checked the canisters sitting on the counter for flour and sugar. At the same time, a shadow passed outside the backdoor window.

“Raisin,” Rylee hissed. “Raisin.” Her heart pounded, and she held very still.

The dog growled low in his throat. Rylee reached in the drawer for a cutting knife. She placed it in front of her.

Raisin continued to growl as the person stepped onto the back steps and peered in the window. Rylee cursed herself for not pulling the curtains.

A knock on the door, and her Dad shouted, “Rylee!”

Rylee dropped the knife onto the counter. She grabbed hold of Raisin’s collar, so he wouldn’t fly out the door. “Good boy,” she said. “But we know him.”

Rylee stepped to the backdoor, twisted the deadbolt lock, and pulled open the door. “Dad.”

Her father stood before her. Water dripped off his thin shoulders and balding head. A gutter overflowed and splashed water onto his T-shirt. Rylee sighed and grabbed Dad’s arm. She pulled him away from the sputtering and splattering downspout. The gutter was one more thing to add to the house repairs. “What are you doing here?”

Dad stepped into the kitchen. He yanked off his wet coat. Water pooled on the floor beneath him as he dropped his black duffle bag and a small, over-the-shoulder case. “Transportation never was easy out to Cranberry Bay at this time of the year. I should have remembered the late November storms.”

“But what are you doing here?” Rylee’s pulse raced. She hadn’t believed Dad when he said he would visit Cranberry Bay. He never had returned before. It had to be the sale of Grandma’s house that pulled him here. She opened a top cabinet and pulled out a ceramic mug with the letters Cranberry Bay Festival stenciled in white. Her feelings engulfed her, and tears strangled her throat. She loved Dad, and nothing made her happier than being around him. But a part of her always tensed. She waited for the bad news. Dad always had bad news. Over the years, she’d gotten better at reading his moods. She knew when he’d won big and when he’d lost big. But he could still throw her off-guard. Rylee leaned against the counter and studied him. Which one would it be this time?

“I’m spending Thanksgiving with you.” Dad wiped his forehead. He reached into his bag and pulled out a small tablet. “I told you I wanted to spend the holidays with you. The bus was supposed to be here this morning, but a landslide cut off the road. We had to detour all the way down to Seashore Cove and back. Took a heck of a long time to get out here.” He looked at the open cookbooks on the counter. “Planning Thanksgiving dinner? If you make up a list of ingredients, I’ll pop up to the store tomorrow and pick everything up for us.”

“I just need to get a few things for the bread. I can do that.” She wasn’t going to tell him her dinner plans included the Shuster family home.

Dad rubbed his chin. “I wonder if the annual football game with the high school alumni still takes place up at the park. I’ll swing by there tomorrow. It’ll be great to see everyone.”

Rylee stared at her Dad in amazement. He hadn’t been back to Cranberry Bay in over four decades. His entire life had changed since he left with a celebration parade and town party. Grandma always kept Dad’s baseball pictures in a photo album. She left it on the coffee table. Rylee had enjoyed thumbing through the pictures and seeing Dad, the town hero. So many residents of the small town had pinned their hopes on him. He was the son, the grandson, and the nephew everyone always wanted. No one but Rylee and her grandparents knew what had happened to that small-town boy. Grandma said it was the death of Rylee’s mother that kick-started the gambling. Dad had been so devastated over losing his beloved wife, he turned to gambling as a way to cope. But Rylee knew better. She knew the gambling started long before her mother died. She’d lay awake listening to her parents fighting. She’d packed her bags in the middle of the night to escape from the men in dark suits who seemed to follow them. Her summers in Cranberry Bay were a welcome relief from the fear she lived with on a regular basis, and, like Grandma, she kept the secret. She didn’t want to do anything to encourage Dad to show up and bring with him all the fear she felt in Vegas.

“Things aren’t the same in Cranberry Bay.” Rylee tried to discourage Dad from seeking out the town’s annual football game with high school alumni. “I’m not sure they even host that game any more. They’re closing the elementary school. People have left Cranberry Bay.”

Dad loved a party. He loved an audience. If he knew Cranberry Bay was dying, he would not want to stay.

Anger constricted Rylee’s chest. How dare Dad show up now? He severed all ties years ago. Dad scorned the small town. He said it was the last place he wanted to be. When she was little, a man and woman came to see them. Dad put the couple up in an expensive hotel and took the man out to play golf while Mom sat by the pool with the lady. Dad said it was his old high school buddy, and he wanted to show him a good time. But after the couple left, Dad closed the door and rolled his eyes. He said he never wanted to see anyone from Cranberry Bay again, and he’d promptly headed for the casinos.

“Of course people left Cranberry Bay.” Dad shook his head. “It can’t be helped in small towns like this one. The town stops growing when residents resist every change. The next thing you know, the town is a ghost town.”

“You don’t care about the town.” Rylee leaned back against the counter. She crossed her hands over her chest. Her insides shook as she thought of the people she’d come to know in Cranberry Bay who called it home. Ivy and her passion for her antique shop. Katie, who carried on her Mom’s store with her own vision. Sasha and her determination to raise her son on her own.

Dad studied Rylee. “Not really. I grew up here, but I made a life somewhere else. Things change. The faster you learn that, the better you’ll be. It’s good not to hold onto anything for too long.”

Rylee shook her head. It wasn’t just her sewing circle friends and Bryan who loved Cranberry Bay. She loved Cranberry Bay for all the comfort and security she’d found in it over the years. She loved it for the way people helped each other and genuinely cared. The sandbag party to save the cottages. Bryan stopping at the side of the road. Rebecca Shuster opening her home to Rylee for the holidays.

Dad reached into his bag and pulled out a small laptop computer. He set it on the counter and powered it up. “You got wireless in here?”

“Yes.” Rylee spit the words out through gritted teeth. “It’s an open connection. There’s no need for a password.”

“Is that safe?” Dad slipped on a pair of reading glasses. He gazed at her over the steel frames.

“It’s Cranberry Bay,” Rylee said. “Things are safe here.” She left out how scared she’d been to find Dad on the back porch.

“Crime happens in Cranberry Bay, too. You’d be wise to remember that.” Dad turned back to his computer screen. She tried to stop herself from leaning over to see what Dad was doing. Was he looking at a bank statement? Or gambling online?

“I know what you’re thinking.” Dad looked up at her, and his eyes bored into hers. “But I’ve kicked the habit. No more gambling.”

“No more gambling?” Hope rose in Rylee’s chest and then crashed. Dad had promised to stop gambling in the past. But each time he returned to it within weeks. The last time was over a year ago. After a particularly bad loss, and the repossession of his car, he showed up on Rylee’s doorstep. That night, Dad swore he was done with all gambling. There would be no more, but if she could loan him $5,000 dollars to pay off the last of his debts, he’d walk away a free and clear man and pay her back as soon as he could secure a stable job.

Too afraid that if she didn’t, Dad would return to gambling, Rylee agreed to Dad’s terms. She had just deposited a large check from a design project and easily wrote the check to Dad. She asked Dad if anyone was after him for money, and he denied it. Rylee hoped he told the truth. The last time he’d been in debt had been especially bad, and he’d been beaten to within seconds of ending his life. Dad spent over a month in the hospital and another three months in physical rehab. Even now, Rylee was never sure Dad had completely regained the use of his left shoulder.

“No more gambling.” Dad glanced back at his computer screen and smiled.

“What are you doing?” Rylee asked, curious to see what brought one of his unexpected smiles to his face.

“Nothing,” Dad moved to flip closed his computer, but not before Rylee saw the logo of an online dating site flash across the screen.

“You’re using one of those online dating sites!” she cried, her voice filled with awe and surprise.

Dad’s neck flushed. He looked up at her, and his eyes sparkled. “I thought it was time. I’m not getting any younger. I’d like to have someone to enjoy the remaining years I have left.”

Rylee’s heart contracted at her Dad’s honest sentiment. Of course he would want a partner, just like she wanted to spend her life with someone she loved. Her mother had been gone for years, and Dad had never really dated. Although there were always single moms in her school classes, he never looked twice at them. “I’m too busy raising my daughter,” he’d say. Only Rylee knew the truth; he was too busy spending evenings at the casinos, and his first love had always been gambling.

“You really are serious about stopping gambling,” Rylee said.

“Yes,” Dad said. “I am.” He chuckled lightly. “Now how about you? There was that boy you once loved in Cranberry Bay, right? Is he still here?”

Rylee flushed from the roots of her hair down through her toes. She quickly turned away and busied herself with washing a glass in the sink.

“Rylee,” Dad said, his tone light and teasing. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Rylee said quickly. She turned around to face Dad. But she couldn’t remove the smile from her lips.

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Dad said. “Do I need to buy a tux for a wedding?”

“Oh,” Rylee gasped. The thought of marrying Bryan filled her with a joy she hadn’t dared feel. “I don’t think so. I mean not yet…” But hope danced around the edges of her mind. If Dad had really kicked the habit, then he wouldn’t need her to support him any more. She would be free to start her own life in Cranberry Bay. No one in Cranberry Bay would ever have to know about his past. He’d be a different man without gambling.

“I’m happy for you.” Dad stood and embraced her. “You’ve worked really hard, and I know it hasn’t been easy trying to support me over the years. I appreciate all that you’ve done for me. Now it’s my turn to make it up to you. What do you say I move in here?”

“Here?” Rylee gasped. She looked around the kitchen. “To Grandma’s house?”

“Yes,” Dad said. “It’s completely paid off. I’ve got money that I put into some investments, and I can help pay the expenses.”

Rylee narrowed her eyes. “What type of investments, Dad?”

“Investments,” Dad said. “Good investments.” His firm tone told her the discussion was over. “If I move in with you. I can pick up the expenses. I know jobs aren’t easy to find in this area, so that will give you some time to explore a bit.”

Rylee stared at her Dad. She wanted to believe in Dad. If Dad really did have good investments, then he could carry the house expenses. She would have the freedom and time to set up her own business again. Once she did the work for Colleen, her name would get out. There were plenty of hotels in the surrounding beach towns that could use her services, not to mention owners of second-homes, when the market recovered. And she wouldn’t have to sell her grandparents’ beloved home.