Sweetheart Cottage (Cranberry Bay #1) (4 page)

Bryan stepped out of his car and walked to her window.

“Gracie serves an amazing breakfast in the morning. She buys the scones and breads from Sasha’s bakery. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.” Bryan smiled at her, unaware of the conflicting emotions racing inside her.

Rylee looked away from him. “I’m sure it’s great.”

“Everything okay?”

“Sure,” Rylee said. “I’ll just park here and check-in. You don’t have to wait.” Her voice sounded calm and steady. Lies to cover and smooth everything, something she’d learned watching her Dad work the creditors who called their home constantly. Of course, the biggest lie had been the one, unspoken, between them and her grandparents—the lie of her father’s gambling, which kept all of them apart and unable to reach out for each other.

Bryan peered closely at her. “I’ll be over at the office for a few hours if you need anything.”

“What exactly do you do?” Rylee asked suddenly.

“I’m a real estate agent,” Bryan said, and winked at her.

“A real estate agent?”

“Yes. I just got my license a few weeks ago. You wouldn’t happen to know anyone who needs a broker to sell something would you?”

“No,” Rylee said. “I mean, yes, I do, but…” she paused. She could not work with Bryan. She needed to limit her time with him lest the old feelings come back, and she’d have to make the same decision she did before—to leave not only Cranberry Bay but also Bryan. Rylee lifted her shoulders and looked Bryan in the eyes.

“This isn’t anything against your company, which I’m sure is wonderful,” she smiled tightly. “But I’d like to use a real estate agent from the Portland area. I think they might know a bigger market of people who would be interested in the home.”

“Most of the agents in Portland aren’t too interested in our market,” Bryan said smoothly, without a trace of disappointment in his voice. “But you might get lucky and find someone who wants to pick something up. Of course,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “If you change your mind, here is my card. Not that you need it,” he said and grinned. “Anyone in town can point you in my direction. I’m the only agent in Cranberry Bay.”

Rylee stared at his card and then back up to his cheerful face. She shook her head at what she’d always seen as naïve foolishness, believing so firmly that everything was as simple as a mind shift. Rylee held the card tightly in her hand, turned on her heel, and walked toward the bakery. She would never ask Bryan to sell her grandmother’s home. She couldn’t risk working with him and losing her heart to him again. She needed to obtain as much distance as possible from the man she had once loved. In the morning, she’d call a well-known agency in Portland. She’d tell them there were a few problems, but she was taking care of them. She’d stage the house and take some pictures, without showing any of the problems, of course. The home would be on the market within days, and, hopefully, an offer would be on the table in a few weeks. She’d be on her way to San Diego by Thanksgiving, and Bryan Shuster would go back in her heart to a memory, exactly the place he should be.

Bryan took a left off the main highway and turned onto a long gravel driveway, as he headed toward a two-story carriage house. Less than a year ago, Sawyer had converted the old barn to a one-bedroom home with a large sleeping loft. It’d been the final piece of his massive fifteen-acre estate, which sat five miles outside of town. Lauren chose the bright-yellow exterior paint, and its cheerful hue and timed matching porch lights welcomed him home on dark, rainy late fall nights like tonight.

Across the expansive yard, lights blazed from every window of Sawyer’s sprawling two-story home. Frowning, Bryan parked his truck and headed toward the front of the mansion. Sawyer and Lauren lived in the back of the 3,000-square-foot home, and the front room lights were rarely turned on. His heart dropped into his wet boots as a sudden burst of fear that something might be wrong with Lauren flashed across his mind. It’d only been a couple of hours since he left Sawyer and Adam entertaining Lauren with a board game while Mom knitted a pair of socks in front of the fireplace. But a lot could happen in a couple of hours. Ever since Dad had died of a sudden heart attack, they all knew how fast things could change and never took a moment together for granted.

He hustled down the stone walkway and up the brick stairs. Pumpkins didn’t glow on this porch, but Bryan wasn’t surprised. Sawyer had stopped celebrating holidays at his home after his wife died. The carriage house and Sawyer’s home used the same lock, and Bryan easily inserted his key and pushed open the heavy black front door. His footsteps echoed on the marble-tiled floor. A baby grand piano sat in the corner of the living room. Above it hung a huge, limited edition painting of a sunrise over the Pacific Ocean. Large, white porcelain vases filled with fake flowers sat on a tall sideboard, and a huge wavy-shaped glass bowl perched on a tall entry table. A thick, plush Oriental rug stretched across each end of the living room and another rug ran through the formal dining room underneath a heavy oak table and a matching set of ten chairs. Bryan couldn’t remember the last time guests sat at the table for a celebration or ate from the silver and twenty-five china place settings. The entire front of the home reminded him of a museum, and sadness permeated every crevice of his body. Usually, he avoided coming in through the front door, and, instead, entered through the back of the house, which opened into an inviting kitchen where Sawyer and Lauren spent most of their time together.

Hurrying to get out of the living room, Bryan’s footsteps echoed on the tiled hallway, and he rounded the corner and stepped into the yellow lit kitchen. Sawyer leaned against a large granite-tiled island in the center of the room. A great living room with a massive stone gas fireplace and large screen TV mounted on the wall opened beyond the kitchen. Pictures of Lauren at various ages from a baby through her current age of ten covered the light green walls, and bookcases filled with framed pictures and books of all genres filled the entire back wall. Heavy rain dripped down the outside of French doors, which opened onto a large patio. In the summer, Sawyer often barbecued and played catch with Lauren in the well-manicured yard.

Now, Lauren lay across a leather sectional couch, tucked alongside a thick pillow. Her maroon backpack lay open on the table. Graded papers and a November school calendar spilled out and onto the thick cream-colored rug. The TV blasted the last game of the World Series.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the room, and a tall woman, wearing blue jeans and dark black sweater, poured steaming coffee into a cup.

“I’m sorry.” Bryan stepped backward. “I didn’t realize you had company. I thought something might be wrong. All the front lights are on.”

“The light timer is broken.” Sawyer held a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. “Someone…” he raised an eyebrow and looked in Lauren’s direction, “was playing around where she shouldn’t have been.”

“That’s good to hear. I was worried something happened to one of you.” Relief washed through Bryan’s chest as the woman at the counter set the coffeepot on the burner and turned toward him.

“Hey, little brother.” Lisa’s hazel eyes, so like his own, greeted him.

“Younger only by two minutes.” Bryan stepped forward and wrapped his twin in a large bear hug. He couldn’t help but notice how thin she felt in his arms. Dark shadows rimmed her eyes, and her long black sweater and jeans hung on her. “What do we owe this unexpected visit to?”

Lisa picked up the steaming cup of coffee. “I thought a visit to Cranberry Bay for Thanksgiving might be nice.” She took a long drink of coffee and swallowed.

Bryan glanced at the calendar Sawyer always kept plastered to the wall. The calendar advertised his construction company, and each page had a plastered yellow logo across the bottom. Halloween was in two days; Thanksgiving wasn’t for another three weeks. Either Lisa had her holidays mixed up, or something was going on.

The bathroom door, off the kitchen, opened, and a tall, thin girl stepped out. She adjusted her long, thin black leggings over a black skirt, which looked like it had seen better days. “Where is my room in this huge house? I want to get unpacked.” She carried a cell phone in her hand and glanced down at it.

“Maddie.” Bryan’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight of his niece. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been a thirteen-year-old with bright eyes and a cheerful smile who looked a lot like Lauren. She and Lisa had come for Sawyer’s wife’s memorial, and Maddie kept them all from crying with her sharp sense of humor and bright wit. Now, at age seventeen, a scowl crossed her thin and narrow face, and he couldn’t make out her eyes underneath heavy black eyeliner, mascara, and eye shadow.

“Hey.” Maddie grunted in his direction as she crossed the kitchen floor and pulled out one of the stools at the center island. She dropped her cell phone on the counter and dragged her heavy black boots along the metal ring running along the bottom. Mud scraped off her boots and onto the floor.

“I told you to take off your boots,” Lisa said, snapping at her daughter.

Maddie glared back at her mother but didn’t move to remove her boots.

“Your Mom said take off your boots,” Bryan said, trying to support his sister without angering his niece.

Maddie glared at him and slowly leaned down and untied one of her boots. With a loud thump, she let it drop to the kitchen floor. Dirt splayed everywhere beneath her. She did the same with the second boot, and another large pile of mud accumulated on the floor.

Bryan stepped to the kitchen closet, opened the door, and pulled out a broom and a dustpan. He walked to Maddie and handed the items to her.

Maddie ignored the broom and dustpan in Bryan’s outstretched hand.

Bryan shook his head and swept the floor under Maddie’s feet, scooping up brown dirt into the dustpan.

“It’s okay.” Sawyer picked up the broom and set it back in the closet. “We’ll deal with things later.”

“So,” Maddie asked, ignoring Bryan and turning to Sawyer. “Where am I sleeping?”

“We need to talk about that.” Sawyer padded across the kitchen tile toward the large-screen TV. “I think we just got a run.” He clapped his hands together in a fist and raised it in the air. “Might be hope for us in this series after all.”

“Daddy!” Lauren protested from the couch. “I can’t concentrate on my homework.”

“What are you studying?” Lisa stepped over to the couch and sank into the plush cushions beside Lauren. She leaned closer to Lauren.

“Math.” Lauren scrunched her nose.

“You don’t like math?”

“I like math,” Lauren said. “But…”

“She doesn’t like Mrs. Williams.” Sawyer finished for his daughter.

“She’s still teaching?” Lisa swung around and faced Bryan. “She taught our class and that was, what, over twenty years ago.”

Bryan shrugged. “It’s not easy to find teachers who want to move to Cranberry Bay. If they live out here, they want to teach in the beach schools and live by the coast.”

“I hate her.” Lauren crumpled her paper, and tears pooled in her eyes. “I’m flunking fourth grade.”

“You can’t be flunking fourth grade. Math is only one subject. I bet you’re doing great in reading and science.” Lisa pulled Lauren close to her. “Maybe Maddie would like to work with you. She’s good in math, right sweetie?” Lauren turned and smiled a tight smile at her daughter.

“Is it a paying job?” Maddie asked, lifting her eyes away from her obsessive study of her cell phone and up to her Mom.

“Of course not.” Lisa snapped. “Lauren is your niece. She’s family.”

“Oh.” Maddie drew a circle with her finger on the island’s granite counter. “I was hoping to make some money, for college and everything.”

“Family helps each other.” Bryan stepped toward Maddie. “We’ll deal with college when it gets here.”

“Okay, I guess. It looks like I’ll have the time here to help her. There’s nothing to do in this dump of a town.”

Bryan shook his head. He wasn’t sure what had happened to Maddie in the time since he’d seen her last, but she was not the same sweet girl he remembered. He reached into the cabinet above his head and pulled down a heavy blue coffee cup. Maddie was still a child. She may be a surly one, but she was still a child. Inside all of that rudeness, she was still the niece he loved, and he was determined to win her affections again.

He poured himself a cup of coffee, dumped a spoonful of sugar into the black liquid, and reached into the cabinet above his head to pull down a bag of chocolate cream cookies that Sawyer always kept on hand. The bag was unopened, and Bryan carried it to the island, ripped off the top, and pulled out a seat beside Maddie. “Cookie?” He held out the bag.

Maddie shook her head. She moved her cell phone away from Bryan and stuck it into her jacket pocket.

Bryan pulled out two sandwich cookies. “How are you?” He eased back on the stool. He was used to working with teens. He had a regular rotation of kids during the summer parks season. Sometimes there was someone who didn’t want to work the job. Usually, with a little patience and kindness, the teen would come around.

“I hate this place.” Maddie slumped onto her stool. She placed her head between her hands.

“This place?” Bryan twisted one of the cookies open and placed the chocolate cookie top on the counter. “I kinda thought Sawyer’s house was a pretty cool place to be myself. There’s this great kitchen. He’s always got good cookies.” Bryan raised one of the chocolate cookies to Maddie in a toast.

“Not here,” Maddie raised her voice. “I hate Cranberry Bay.”

“That’s enough!” Lisa said sharply and stood up. She ran her hands through her hair. “We talked about this and agreed there would be no negative talk about Cranberry Bay.”

Bryan unscrewed the second cookie top and placed it beside the first. He merged the two cookies together to make one cookie with extra icing. “How long are you staying?” he asked his niece.

“Too long.” Maddie turned away from him and stared at the table.

Bryan raised an eyebrow at his sister.

“For awhile,” she said. “We need to get out of Seattle for a little bit. There was some trouble with Maddie.” Lisa’s lips tightened.

“Just say it, Mom,” Maddie said. “I stole a few things and had to spend some time at the juvenile detention center. I’m a criminal.”

Lisa crossed her hands over her chest. “You are not a criminal. You just got in with some wrong people.”

Maddie shrugged and turned toward the TV.

“We’ll get through this,” Bryan said, reassuring his sister. Family was important, and they had always supported each other. “You’ll be staying with Sawyer? He’s got a lot of great rooms upstairs.”

Sawyer cleared his throat and stepped away from the TV. “I’m giving them the carriage house.”

“The carriage house? I thought that was the place I rented.” Bryan pushed back the stool and stood up. The carriage house had one bedroom and a loft. It wasn’t big enough for the three of them.

“Sorry, brother.” Sawyer lowered his voice. “I know it’s going to break the lease I set up with you. But I thought you might want to move into Mom’s house for awhile. She needs a little extra hand around the place. You’d be closer to your office.”

“Mom’s house?” Bryan paced the kitchen. If he had a job, he could have bought his own place and then none of this would have mattered. But he had only just gotten his real estate license. He’d inherited some listings from the retired agent, Rob Decker, but he hadn’t gotten a bite yet.

Sawyer cleared his throat. “Mom took a small fall the other day. She banged up her ankle pretty good. She insisted she was fine, but I don’t think it’s so great for her to be living alone.”

“Mom fell?” Bryan’s heart leapt in his chest. “Why didn’t she say something?”

“You know Mom,” Sawyer said, and smiled lightly at his brother. “She’s not going to admit she needs help.”

Bryan nodded and bit his lower lip. Mom wouldn’t admit to anyone she needed help. If she fell, she’d never tell her boys for fear of worrying them. Even though all of them were grown men, more than capable and willing to protect and care for her, Mom still thought of them as her little boys, people she needed to protect.

“She could move in here.” Lisa grabbed a cookie. “There are plenty of rooms,” she muttered as crumbs fell out of her mouth. Lisa absently swiped the crumbs off her sweater. Guiltily, she peeked at Sawyer. “Sorry. I’ll pick it up.”