“I’m sure I can find the place myself if you just point me in the right direction.”
“It’s a bit of a hike. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.” Tully reached for the door. “Though I should warn you Gus is not real sociable and it’s an absolute shame because he’s so darn nice to look at. Don’t take it personal. He’s like that with most folks. I blame it on the fact he’s a transplant.” At Faith’s confused look she whispered, “He’s from the city. DC, I think.” Her smile almost immediately fell. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. Cityfolks are nice and all, I mean . . .” She blushed. “You might be from the city for all I know, and you seem real nice, and, well, I’m going to stop talking now. Enjoy your dinner.”
Tully disappeared inside, leaving Faith to her dinner. She took her time, savored every last bit of soup, and then the wrap, which was so big it could have fed a small army. It didn’t hinder Faith; she ate every last crumb. By the time she was done, her belly was too full, her body was too tired, and she could have closed her eyes and fallen asleep right there.
She might have, too, except there was some throat clearing, and she slowly turned around in her chair. A man stood a few feet away. The sun was behind him, so she couldn’t see his face clearly. Dressed in faded jeans, beat-up work boots, and a plain black T-shirt that emphasized wide shoulders and impressive biceps, he was tall and well-built.
“I hear you need a ride.” His voice was deep with a hint of rasp, and she detected a slight accent that didn’t jive with this corner of the United States. Boston, she thought.
Faith took a moment and then got to her feet. “Tully says I do, but I can walk as long as I know where I’m headed.”
“I’ll take you.”
He moved a bit, and his face slowly came into focus. Strong square jaw and high cheekbones, a nose that looked as if it had been broken once or twice. His eyes were so dark they appeared black, and his mouth was almost too feminine for such masculine features. Yet it all worked in a way that made him dangerous to any female that crossed his path.
Except me, she thought.I don’t have time for a man like him. She had a feeling this man would be like a hurricane.
“Follow me.”
She wanted to protest. Wanted to be independent and strong. But she was so tired and so low that when he grabbed her suitcase, she said nothing.
Faith untied Taco and grabbed her backpack, then followed the stranger to his truck, a mud-splattered F150. He tossed her suitcase in the back seat and didn’t say a word when she settled into the front while Taco jumped into the back seat.
It was a big truck, but he had no problem taking up a lot of space. She inched closer to the door and hoped he didn’t notice. They drove back down Main and eventually took a left onto one of the tree-lined streets Faith had admired less than an hour ago. It was a cul de sac, and he continued to the end, then parked in the driveway of a large brick home. The sign near the driveway read,Lawson House,Est 1871.
It was beautiful.
“This is it?” she asked.
A grunt was his reply. He got out of the truck and retrieved her suitcase, then handed it to her. For one second, their eyes met and held, and nervous, Faith took a step back. Her heart sped up, and her mouth went dry. “Thank you,” she said softly.
“Candy’s on the main floor. Unit one.” He gave a curt nod and headed for the house, his long legs making quick business of it. He jogged up the wide steps that led to the nicest porch Faith had ever seen, then disappeared through double stained-glass doors.
Wow, she thought,Tully wasn’t lying. The manisunsociable.
“Okay, Taco,” Faith said reaching for her suitcase. “Looks like we’ll be staying in Fire Lake longer than we want to.”
She followed the stranger’s footsteps, too tired to think about staying in one place longer than she should. Besides, she didn’t have a choice, and it didn’t pay to think too far ahead. At least, that’s what her grandmother used to say.
She reached the double doors and glanced down at Taco. His ears were forward and alert, though his tail was still. He felt her tension and unease. Faith bent down and gave him a quickscratch behind the ears, then pushed open the doors. Home sweet home, she thought, running a hand over the clammy skin of her neck.
At least, she hoped so.
Chapter Two
The Boone family estate was located at the south end of Fire Lake. The main house, built on a small elevation among pine and fir, was large — at least five thousand square feet spread over upper and lower floors. It was made of stone and timber, with an impressive entranceway that framed the heavy oak doors perfectly and a large, sweeping deck at the back of the house that overlooked the lake. A vacation home, built in the mid-1800s by the first Boone to come to the area with old money from Europe, it had been in the family for generations and would remain so for generations to come.
At least that’s what Gus had been told by the estate’s business manager when he’d been hired a few weeks back.
He pulled up in the driveway and parked off to the side of the garage just as the sun broke over the Adirondacks, spilling fiery light over the calm water. He killed the engine and, after a few moments, slid from the truck. Birds were awake and chirped at him from the shadows as he walked to the back of the property, coffee in hand, and stared out at the prettiest spot on the lake. There was a boathouse to the right, and on the left, up past the gazebo and hidden from sight, was a bunkie that held four beds, a sink to wash up, and not much else.
August, you said I could have the top bunk.
The words echoed in his mind, a whisper of memory that surprised him. He gave himself a mental shake and scowled. Gus didn’t have the patience for that shit. Nor the inclination.
“It’s something, isn’t it?”
Startled, he cranked his head to the side and spied a woman perched on a bench a few feet away. Shadows kept most of her hidden save for the edge of a large red and black plaid blanket and the dainty feet that poked out from underneath.
