Читать книгу Love Came Unexpectedly - Ruth Scofield - Страница 9

She woke suddenly. For half a moment, she was confused about where she was. A whispering drifted from her half sleep, seeping away as she woke. What had she heard?

She lay silently, listening for something…

A motor boat, far away, made her aware of where she was—a place completely different from her apartment or the busy hospital or doctor’s office she knew.

Faint light sifted around the edges of the curtains. It was morning? Time to get up and going on the day. She had so much to do she hardly knew where to start.

Jumping from the bed, she padded to open the door to the office. Her quick inspection of the kitchen the night before hadn’t unearthed a coffeepot, so she’d have to make do with the one she’d spied on the metal file cabinet in the office. She suspected it was kept there to supply guests when they stopped by.

The office was full of light, though the sun was just beginning to send rays through the front windows. She blinked into the sunlight. It was later than she’d thought.

The coffeepot sat on a hot plate. She hurriedly tiptoed over to grab it before she realized she was alone. There was no need to remain quiet.

Someone rapped on the front door. In the quiet, it sounded more like pounding.

“Eeek…” She squealed and jumped a foot, her heart beating hard. Who was at her door? Already? She wasn’t ready for company. She was in her shorty pj’s.

Which reminded her there were no curtains on the office windows. Anyone could look in and see her. The fact that she was no longer in a city with busy streets and crowded hallways did nothing to calm her. That was what she was used to.

She scurried back through the inner door, closing it behind her. Whoever was at the outer door could just wait. Or go away, she didn’t care. Imagine expecting her to be on call at the crack of dawn!

The knocking continued.

Grabbing her lavender summer robe, she slipped it on, then hurried barefoot to open the office door.

The tall guy from last night stood there…what was his name? His gaze went from her tousled head to her painted toenails, noting where the robe stopped at her knees. Why did he make her feel she was exposing more than she should? Her robe covered more than a pair of shorts did.

“What is it?” She asked rather grumpily. Her temper made her impatient and cranky. Then her training kicked in. She cleared her throat and said more evenly, “May I help you?”

He raised a brow, an amused grin starting to spread.

“I thought since this is your first morning here, you might like to go out to breakfast.”

“Well, I don’t know…um…?” She stumbled for his name. She usually remembered people’s names, but at the moment his mischievous look distracted her.

“Grant.” His smile spread wider.

“Ah, yes. Like the Civil War general.”

“As a matter of fact, that’s the way it was. My granddad is a history buff, and he named me.”

“Oh, is that a fact?” She was interested in spite of his silly grin. No one knew much about her personal history.

“How about breakfast?”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt.” She was starving. There wasn’t anything in the refrigerator except mustard and ketchup, and the soup from dinner the night before was long gone. She’d have to grocery shop at some time, she knew. “Give me fifteen minutes to get ready.”

She turned, and raced into the bedroom.

“Fifteen minutes?” He called after her. “Most women take that long just to get into the shower.”

She heard him, but she didn’t answer. She’d been trained to take three-minute showers, and two-minute dry-offs. Getting dressed was a matter of grabbing the clothes off the top of the stack in her suitcase.

True to her word, she reappeared in the office in fifteen minutes. She wore jeans, a blue T-shirt, and brown sandals. She’d combed through her wet hair with the speed of lightning, and twisted it up with a large clip. She wore no makeup.

“I don’t believe it,” he said, looking at his watch, then giving her a once-over glance. “Fifteen minutes to the second.”

“I never usually take long,” she said with a note of pride. “But for breakfast, I put a rush on it. Where are we going?”

It didn’t matter a whit. She could eat a cow. Maybe two.

“There’s a place about ten miles that way that’s good.”

She had no idea where “that way” was. She supposed he was safe enough. He escorted her out to the road where a small red pickup was parked.

“Now tell me, where did you get the name Sunny?”

“My mom named me Sunny because she said the day I was born was the sunniest day she’d ever seen,” she said, climbing into the truck. She did know that much, at least.

“What did your dad say to that?” He closed her door, then went around to his side.

Sunny shrugged. “I don’t know. He died before I was born.”

“That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“Oh, um…that your granddad never said…never knew about you. I guess the communication got lost along the way somewhere.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” She didn’t want to discuss it, not with this near stranger. Her emotions were too on edge. “Tell me about the lake and its history.”

“Ah…that’s a tall order.” And a safe one. “All right, here goes. In the thirties, the local utility company built the lake to generate electricity, and since it’s a private concern, that’s why anyone can build right on the lake…”

Grant talked all the way to breakfast. She watched him shift gears at a crossroad, barely glancing to the right and left. Then he talked through breakfast, and she watched his expressive eyes as he told her of the struggles of the utility company to obtain all the land.

At the end of their meal, he slowly wound down. He’d eaten his eggs and sausage, while she nibbled on the last of her toast, having consumed her meal without a word.

“Fascinating,” Sunny said. It was a word she used when she didn’t know what else to say in a given conversation. But she really meant it. The history of the region was fascinating.

“Well, now that you’ve got your tummy full, what are you going to do?”

“Go shopping.”

His mouth drooped. “It figures. I never knew a woman who didn’t want to shop all the stores in an area new to her.”

“I meant for groceries. Where are the nearest grocery stores?”

His face brightened. “Really? Well, your best bet is about two-plus miles at the end of this road. You know, I could do with a bit of grocery shopping myself. Why don’t I take you now? It would be silly to go all the way back to Sunshine Acres only to pick up your car.”

She studied his face. Did he really have nothing better to do?

“What about your resort? Don’t you have riders…er, customers arriving?”

He glanced at his watch. “Not likely today. But it’s early yet. If we shop quickly, I won’t be that late getting back. Besides, I have someone there to take care of anyone that might happen by.”

“Oh, that’s nice. You have an assistant.”

“Yep. His name is Buzz.”

“All right, I suppose. I appreciate the help.”

The grocery store was a small one, but she chose several frozen entrées and lots of fresh vegetables and fruits. Grant settled for coffee and steaks.

On the drive home, Grant talked of his plans for Grant’s Retreat.

“I hope to expand to three trails a day in the summer. It would be great, if I can continue to trail the extended ride through the forest. And in autumn, I plan to host some evening rides. But I just got going before the end of last year…nobody but my family came for rides, practically. Old Nathan has been…was wonderful about waiting for payment while I’m getting started.”

“What do you mean? About my grandfather?”

“He owned the land. Didn’t you know?”

“No.” She watched the ribbon of road twist and turn while he talked.

“Yeah. And then there was a ten-acre partial in the valley that attaches to mine that he had an eye on. It made a solid bridge to mine. He called me as soon as it went on the market. I was able to snap it up.”

“I see.” Childish, unreasoning jealousy welled up inside her. Jealousy and envy over knowing and spending time with Nathan, really knowing her grandfather. How did this stranger rate so fine a treatment from someone who… Nathan was her grandfather? To spend days with him, to hear him talk, to know how he moved, how he went about his work, to know what he liked to eat?

Grant glanced at her, his lashes flickering her way. He spoke more softly. “I guess you do. Nathan…was a fine man. None better.”

They’d reached her place, Grant parking along the road. Sunny wrenched opened the door as soon as he halted the truck.

“Thanks for the breakfast and the grocery run,” she said formally. “I must go now. There’s a lot of papers to read and…other work to do.”

He unloaded her bags and set them by the door, glancing curiously at her face. “All right. I gotta go, too. I’ll be seeing you,” he said in parting.

But Sunny was already searching for her key.

She tried to shake off the feeling as she pushed through her door. It was ridiculous, feeling jealousy. That she hadn’t known her grandfather was no one’s fault—only a fact of life. It couldn’t be helped. She shouldn’t feel jealous…but she did.

She heard the disappearing motor, not paying much attention to Grant’s leaving.

After years of neglect, how could she not feel such…hurt? Her grandfather had been alive during all those years she had struggled, when she had needed family. And she hadn’t known of him.

Pain shafted all the way down to her toes.

Irrational anger raged suddenly, something she’d never experienced before in her life. How could her grandfather have been so close to Grant? Close to a stranger? As though those two were the ones related, and not her. Leaving her out.

Lord, I need Your calming spirit… I don’t know why I feel such rage…and hurt, too. I shouldn’t. It’s so selfish and irrational… I’m an adult now and should be beyond such feelings. Nathan couldn’t have known I even existed before a few months ago, and that’s no fault of his. I guess it’s Mom’s fault, if anyone’s.

With all of her might, she shoved the feelings down. In her mind, she quietly quoted Scripture to accomplish the task, something she’d done since her childhood.

“The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and I am helped…” came to her from Psalms.

Never mind. She had work to do.

The phone was ringing, and she didn’t think she’d connected the answering machine before she’d left. She hurriedly set the groceries down, then grabbed the phone.

Someone was calling about rates.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve just begun working here and I can quote you only what this card says….” She listened a moment. “No, Sunshine Acres will be closed until the first of the month due to…” she couldn’t say the words, due to the fact that her grandfather had died.

“A…family problem.” She listened again, hearing a desire to know when Sunshine Acres would be open again, asking someone to call. “I’ll do that.”

Sunny put away the groceries, and then sat at the office desk. She sorted and sifted through the weeks of mail, not knowing exactly what to do with the majority of it. Some she simply put aside to deal with later; confirmations and requests for reservations, she put into a separate stack.

She answered phone calls twice more—people who had heard of the resort’s change in ownership, wanting to know if Sunshine Acres would continue, whether their bookings were still all right. She assured them that if they had made reservations, they would have the cabins in the time they’d requested.

Not knowing where the reservations book was located, she glanced about. Then she went to the computer. It booted up without a problem. She looked at the programs, then went to the e-mail.

Which was a mistake. There were tons of messages.

For the next two hours, she sorted through them, eliminating most, keeping some. Finally, she rose and stretched. She had to get out of the cabin…

Time to visit the guest cabins and see what shape they were in, she thought.

Taking the keys off the hooks, she glanced at them. They were old keys and she hoped they worked.

She pulled her door closed and locked it. Then she strolled down the concrete boat launch to the level of the cabins. There should be a separate path to each cabin from the car park, she thought. But the car park was nothing but a dirt patch of ground, sitting adjacent to the road. There were a few concrete steps to the manager’s cabin, then, on the lower level were the six guest cabins.

All the cabins were alike except for color. None but one of them had basements; the rest were all on stone foundations. She stood in front of the first one, and took a deep breath. She placed the proper key in the front door and swung it wide.

One large room met her gaze; it was much like hers. It contained a strip of kitchen cabinets, old and dated, and a newer stove and refrigerator in white on the wall facing the road. The dining and living room were combined, with a large dining table and chairs taking pride of place in the center of the room. An iron daybed sat in the corner. A huge picture window looked out over the lake, giving a view that took her breath away. A bathroom and two small bedrooms filled with inexpensive furniture completed the cabin.

This was like a cabin of fifty years ago, she thought. Where were the furnace and hot-water tank?

She found those in the closet beside the door.

It seemed clean enough. Nothing had been touched since her grandfather’s passing. But where were the laundry facilities? Was everything sent out?

Each cabin was alike, she discovered, as she wandered from one to the other, the only difference being the furniture that occupied them. The last cabin, built on a higher slope of land, had a lower level, which proved to be a boat storage. It was empty, but she thought it looked as if it had been recently occupied.

Sighing, she closed and locked the last door. There was only one building left to inspect. The huge garage at edge of the road, past which the drive wandered to her cabin, the office.

She stood and gazed at the garage. She decided it could wait for another day because she was exhausted. Everything—her quick response when she’d heard from the lawyer, to making arrangements to take a leave of absence from work, to coming here—everything was catching up to her.

Slowly, she strolled back toward the office. There was enough paperwork to keep her busy for the next two days. What should she do with it all? A number of people held reservations on cabins for stated times and weeks of the summer. Either she had to keep those, or refund the money.

And she hadn’t yet found the ledger, nor any money, and the computer hadn’t revealed a thing. So far she hadn’t found a bank book, either. Oh, hang it. She didn’t even know the banks in this area—something else she’d have to investigate. Surely Nathan kept operating money somewhere.

It was a much bigger problem than she’d imagined.

Oh, Lord, I need help…