Suspended (33 page)

“You actually invite people to come here?”

The slice was deep. “The main house is well maintained, and
we have nothing but glowing referrals.”

He stood, looming over her. His hazel eyes were chips of
cool jade filled with dismissal. “From who?”

“We have a loyal list of people who come back for fishing
and snowmobiling.”

“Fishing and—” He paced up and down the fence. “This is
zoned to be a B and B, not a game and recreational park. I looked up the
paperwork. Christ, if anything happened to the men on the lake, are you even
covered?”

She threw her shoulders back. “Of course we are.”

He finally stopped pacing in front of her. “How could you
not tell me it needed this much work?”

In her head she’d known, but she’d been treading water for
so long seeing just how run-down it looked after time away left a gaping hole
in her chest. But she’d fight for it. The Heron was worth the fight. “It’s
manageable.”

“Manageable?” He turned to her, his eyes hard and remote.
“This looks manageable to you?”

“If I had some help. If you could only see how amazing it
could be.” She looked past the sagging fences to the lake and the reeds of
weeping willows. The graceful arc of a heron as it landed on an icy rock and
folded in its huge wings. “I don’t want to lose this place.”

She’d been hanging on by her fingernails for so long. She’d
thought maybe, just maybe someone else would see what she saw. Shane, of all
people, with his renovation knowledge could make the Heron beautiful.

She faced him. “Can’t you see how special this place is?”

His eyes were flat and emotionless.

Fear took hold. Everything she’d been worried about
threatened to suck her down. “You can’t want to sell it.”

“The property is worth more than this entire operation, so
you’re damn right I want to sell. I will be selling.”

“No,” she whispered.

“Oh yeah. What are you going to do when you can’t make a
repair? What happens if someone gets hurt on the dock or the porch that’s
sagging? Do you just want to go bankrupt to keep this place?”

“Of course not. We’re just falling on hard times right now.
Things will—”

“What? You think they’ll turn around? The only thing that
would help this place is to sink at least ten thousand dollars into the
property. I haven’t even seen the main house to know what else it needs.”

She shut her eyes against the angry tears that wanted to fall.

She’d been so afraid this would happen. That he’d see the
place and not feel the magic in the land, in the woods and the water.

“I wanted you to see the potential of it all.”

“Potential? Do you know what kind of money you need to pull
off the potential you’re looking for?”

She crossed her arms over her chest.

“At least forty thousand to really turn this around to be
worthy of a B and B trade magazine.”

She dropped her hands to her sides in shock. “I don’t want
to be in a trade magazine.” Her breath backed up into her chest at the arctic
frost of his face. “I want families who want to go out on the boat in the
summer or to play on the dock and swim. I want people who love the winter and
snowmobiling and skiing that’s close by. I want people who want to hike and
enjoy a place that’s a little off the beaten path.”

“Are you getting that?”

She used to. But no matter how much hospitality she and her
mother showered on people, he was right. She looked away.

“That’s what I thought. You lied right to my face.”

“I didn’t. I just told you what I see.”

His face slid into the stony mask she remembered from the
first day she’d met him. “Then you’re lying to yourself too.” He climbed into
the truck and left her on the path. Instead of going up to the main house, he
made a U-turn and headed back down Heron Way to the main road.

She tipped her head back, felt the hot tracks of her tears
as they burned down her temples and into her hair. The fresh scent of the water
calmed her. The sun crept along the mountain line. A pink sky settled against
the water.

It would be beautiful tomorrow. And he was gone.

She wiped her face and followed the road up to the house.
Her mother stood on the porch, her red wool cape around her shoulders. She came
down the stairs and met her at the end of the driveway.

“I thought I heard a truck. Why are you alone?”

“I—”

“Oh, Kendall…what happened?” Her mother gathered her under
the cape, and her mother’s warmth seeped into her. Cinnamon wrapped in vanilla
curled around her. The scent so familiar her tears returned. She put her cheek
on her mother’s shoulder and hugged her tight.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d let her mom hang
on to her. Lily was shorter than her and softer with rich dark curls she kept
in a chin-length style tucked behind her ears. The only thing Kendall had
inherited from her mother was her brown eyes.

Currently a lovely bloodshot thanks to her own stupidity.

“I don’t know if I can survive losing the Heron, Mom.”

Lily rubbed her back. “Where is that man? Shane? Is that his
name? I think I need to have a talk with him.”

Kendall laughed for the first time since that morning. Mama
bear was out in all her Italian glory. She sniffed and drew back. “He just took
off. I don’t know what’s going to happen now. He could be in town finding the
Realtor for all I know.”

“All right, let’s not get sarcastic or hysterical here.”

Considering that was usually her mother’s reaction, she bit
her lip. She had to pull it together and make a plan with Shane. She couldn’t
lose her place. She had to make him see all the best parts of it.

But what about them? The look on his face had shredded her.
Beyond the anger and beyond the surprise, she’d seen the hurt and the flash of
betrayal. She’d just wanted him to see it with her eyes, not with any misconceptions.

Instead all he’d seen was a lie.

With his love of building, she’d hoped he would see the
amazing under the worn. But she’d been wrong. God, so wrong.

She steered her mother back up the drive to the stairs.
“Were you able to get Sully to fix the hot water heater?”

Her mother sighed. At least Kendall would get a small stay
of execution on the discussion of Shane. Soon enough he’d have to come back,
and they’d have to face each other.

He could take the money from the job and run. She’d been so
hoping he’d want to put money into the Heron and in them. Again she’d been so
wrong it hurt.

“He got it to work again, but it barely covers a shower.”

“Shane—” She cut herself off. She didn’t know if Shane would
fix it now. Kendall cleared her throat. “As soon as I figure out money, I’ll
get it fixed.” She might be able to go to the scratch-and-dent sales at the
warehouse and find something.

“We have those two brothers from Georgia coming in to stay
at the cabin on the lake. They heard that we’d gotten early snow and want to
come out for a weekend.”

“That’s great. Anyone else?”

Lily sighed. “I’m afraid not, sweetie.”

Kendall nodded. She’d have to tap Bells for a temp position
to help bring some money in. She had secretarial skills that came in handy
around this time of year.

“I need a shower.”

“I held off on Thanksgiving dinner. I figured it would be
just as good to do it on Saturday and have Bells and her family come out.”

“That sounds heavenly.”

“Why don’t you go upstairs and take a quick shower—you’ll freeze
if you don’t—and take a nap. I’ll watch for this Shane person to return.”

“I want you to come get me when he gets back. I don’t want
you to meet him alone.”

“Why? Is he dangerous?”

Even at his most growly, there was nothing about Oscar that
had been dangerous. No. Not Oscar. Shane. She didn’t have the right to use her
nickname for him. Not now. “No. That’s not it. I just don’t know how he’s going
to react and how you’re going to react around him.”

“I’ll be perfectly civilized.”

“Right.”

“Kendall Marie Proctor!”

“Just please, do this for me. Okay?”

Her mother gave an exaggerated sigh. “All right.”

Kendall climbed the stairs to her room at the back of the
house. She’d refurbished all the bedrooms to rental rooms, tirelessly sanding
the floors and repainting. Repurposing furniture from garage sales and using
every DIY project she could manage on her own. Or anything she could drag Bells
into doing with her.

Her bedroom was a converted pantry from the original
structure of the house. It was just big enough for a twin bed and shelves she’d
created to hold everything from a small stereo to her cable console. A modest
flat screen TV filled the wall at the end of her bed.

It was simply a nook for her to collapse in at the end of
the day.

She climbed into the shower and let the hot water run until
it flowed cold. Her typical apple shampoo and conditioner made her feel normal
again. She looked out the window, but his truck still gone.

Armed with her fleece pj’s and woolen socks, she headed back
downstairs to talk to her mother. A nap was probably a smart idea, but she
couldn’t hide in sleep right now. No, she had a lot to explain.

Lily was curled into her chair with her current knitting
project on her lap and the fluff-ball cat that seemed to own the house. Kendall
leaned in. “Hello, Murdoch.”

He lifted his head for a long scratch under his chin before
curling back into her mom’s lap.

“Do you want anything to eat?”

Kendall shook her head. “Not hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.”

Kendall managed a half smile. “Not at the moment.”

Lily sighed. “You really got yourself messed up over this
man. You swore you’d never be like me, but here you are.”

Kendall’s spine snapped straight. “I’m not—”

“Larry and I fell hard and fast. Within two weeks we were
moved into this house with every room spoken for. We had so many plans for more
children,” she said absently.

“You wanted more kids?”

“Of course. We wanted at least three, but then…” Her mom
trailed off. “Well, then we didn’t.”

Was it a
we
or
just a
he?
She didn’t have the heart
to dredge up that question. Not when she was pretty sure Lawrence had not only
left them but cheated on her mother. Did Lily even know that?

A sudden bang at the front door kicked adrenaline through
her system. She checked the peep window. Shane’s imposing form filled the
doorway. She shook back her hair and opened the door. Water dripped from the
brim of his baseball cap, and his eyes glittered darkly.

Normally his height made her feel safe, but right now he
just felt too overwhelming and too angry. She stepped back. “Where have you
been?”

“I don’t answer to you.”

His cool voice was filled with the old Shane, and she hated
it. Remote and angry, the man from their road trip was long gone.

He stepped inside and looked around. His quick assessment made
her shoulder blades itch. Instead of the derision she’d been expecting, he
seemed calm and accepting.

“Lily Proctor, this is Shane Justice. He’ll be staying with
us for the foreseeable future.”

Shane held out his hand. “I’m sorry we had to meet under these
circumstances.”

Her mother tipped her head back. “Are you sure you’re not
Larry’s boy?”

Kendall flushed. He damn well better not be.

“No, ma’am. My father died before I was born. Larry raised
me, for all intents and purposes.”

Lily narrowed her gaze. “Oh, really?”

Shane’s face gentled. “Yes, ma’am.”

Kendall’s gaze wavered for a moment before she blinked away
the wash of tears. He didn’t have to be nice to her mother, but he was. She
crossed the room to the small wine fridge she’d stashed behind a small bar
she’d restained. She poured herself a glass and took a slug before turning back
around, her innkeeper’s smile in place. She’d get him settled and make the best
of things.

“Can I find you a room for the night?”

“That’d be great.”

Kendall glanced at her mother. “Is the Sage Room made up?”

Her mother nodded.

She returned her attention to Shane. “Did you bring your
stuff in?”

“I’ll bring it in later.”

“Okay,” she said stiffly. She could feel him behind her as
she started up the steps. Instead of waiting for him, she darted up to the next
floor and down the hallway. He was finally in her space, in her things, and he
was acting like they were strangers again. She could feel the headache brewing.

She opened the door and quickly surveyed the room. Cream
sheets, deep sage comforter and walls, with a buttery pine bed reminiscent of
their time at the church. Slatted headboard, side table, and a simple dresser
kept the room uncluttered. The room smelled of lavender.

This part was her mother’s doing. She loved keeping the
rooms clean and romantic. Kendall backed into the door, her skin on high alert
when he filled the space. He swept by her; his distinctive amber scent was
stronger and so distracting she wanted to crawl into his arms and apologize.

But she didn’t.

She didn’t have anything to apologize for.

Maybe she’d talked up the place more than was warranted, but
she honestly saw it that way. Time away had taken some of the polish off, but
it was her place, and she was proud of it.

“We have breakfast at seven, lunch at one, and dinner at
six. You’re welcome to come downstairs for a meal with us.”

“Thank you.”

She tried not to react. But the throaty thanks shot
everything all to hell. She stopped at the door, not looking back at him.
Before she could do something dumb, she followed the hidden hallway to her
corner of the house and jammed her fist into her mouth.

Crawling under the covers, she pressed her cheek to her cool
sateen sheets and let the tears fall into her pillow.