Sweetheart Cottage (Cranberry Bay #1) (8 page)

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Rylee said, softening toward Bryan. “I remember how much you cared about her.”

“Yes.” Bryan’s voice cracked. “I do. The whole town loves her. I’m sure we could do a fund-raiser to help with her costs, but I doubt she’d accept it.”

“The staging won’t be a problem,” Rylee said firmly. “I’ll poke around in the antique shop and see if I can scout out a few thrift stores or garage sales. If needed, I’ll head into Portland for the day and look around. We can get this done.”

“Thank you,” Bryan said. His blue eyes swam with emotion.

“Not a problem,” Rylee said, her voice brisk as she resisted the urge to reach out and take Bryan’s hand. “I’ve dealt with worse situations.” She checked the time on her phone. “In fact, why don’t I head over to Ivy’s shop now? We’ll put a colorful tag on anything that comes from her store, so prospective buyers know where to purchase the item.”

“That’s a great idea,” Bryan said. “I’m going to stick my head into the other cottages, and I’ll let you know how bad they look.”

The boyish grin she loved broke across his face, and her heart cascaded in small flutters. For a minute, she couldn’t move and felt the old swirl of joyful emotion in her stomach.

Raisin’s sharp bark jerked her out of her thoughts. The dog had placed his paws on the window and pressed his nose against the glass. “Down.” Rylee called Raisin to her side. She clipped his leash to his collar and stepped out the door. Her pulse raced. She needed to put distance between herself and Bryan. Rylee pulled her hood over her head and headed for Main Street.

By the time she had walked the three blocks, her pulse had returned to normal. The cool breeze whipped around the sides of the buildings and chilled her heated body.

In the doorway of the antique shop, Ivy struggled, trying to fit a large nightstand through the door. “Let me get that.” Rylee stepped up to the glass door with “Antiques” etched in gold lettering on it.

“Thanks,” Ivy said, as she and Rylee set the nightstand down in front of a large front counter. Light-green paint was chipped in the corners, and a bottom drawer missed a knob. Otherwise, everything looked in good condition. The piece would be perfect for a small table beside a thick couch in one of the cottages.

“What can I help you with?” Ivy wiped her hands on her jeans.

“I’d like that nightstand,” Rylee said, and briefly explained her plan to stage the river cottages.

After she finished, Ivy waved her hand toward the vast store. “Feel free to look around for whatever you need. I’ll be happy to donate some of this stuff. People use the store as a dumping ground for their old junk.”

“Why don’t you tell them the store doesn’t accept the items?” Rylee asked, puzzled at Ivy’s policy.

Ivy shrugged. “I’m too much of a softy to say no. I know what it’s like to have an attic full of treasures you don’t know what to do with.” She lowered her voice as a shadow crossed her face. “The store helps people out, even if no one will ever buy the items. They have a place to keep those things that once were special.”

“And if Cranberry Bay becomes the next big thing, people might want these things.” Rylee said. She smiled at Ivy. She understood why Ivy chose to keep people’s treasures, whether or not they could sell. She knew what it was like to have a houseful of things that had once been filled with meaning and purpose and had become only part of what they used to be.

“That would be great,” Ivy said. “But until we get a reason for people to stay longer than an hour or two in Cranberry Bay, none of this stuff is going anywhere. I’m happy to let you take what you need.”

Raisin nosed toward a tall stack of old records. Ivy held out her hand. “I’ll keep Raisin up here. I had a dog for fifteen years. She saw me through everything. She passed away a few months ago, and I haven’t had the heart to get another one.” Ivy leaned down and rubbed Raisin’s ears. “But I can borrow you, right buddy?”

Raisin leaned against Ivy’s leg. Rylee grabbed a small wire basket from a stack by the counter. She headed toward the back of the store. She had learned it was best to start at the back and work her way forward, rather than moving in some random path. Some of the best deals often were at the back of thrift stores because people got too distracted by the things closer to the front.

Rylee passed a table filled with hand-stitched towels and pillowcases. She paused and scooped a couple into the bottom of her basket. The towels would look perfect hanging from the stove in the kitchen. She took another three steps and collided with a teen girl who ducked out of a small alcove filled with vintage dresses.

“Watch where you are going.” The teen clutched a pink dress and a yellow teacup to her denim jacket.

“I’m sorry.” Rylee apologized to the tall, gangly girl who looked to be about sixteen. “I didn’t see you.”

Rylee stepped beside a shelf filled with teacups and saucers that matched the one in the teen’s hand. A vision of the tea set placed at a small table and covered with a lace tablecloth flashed across Rylee’s mind. “Are you going to buy those?”

“I don’t know.” The girl hugged the teacup closer to her. “Why?”

“Because if you’re not, I’d like them.” Rylee hid the smile from her voice. She’d argued with plenty of experienced shoppers over items, but never a teenager who looked like the fiercest competitor she’d met.

“Yea?” The girl held the teacup up to the light. She ran her finger from the edge to the bottom of the cup. “It’s got a crack down the center. Might be hard to drink tea out of this one.”

Rylee’s gaze followed the girl’s finger. “You’re right. You’ve got a good eye.”

The girl shrugged, but her cheeks turned pink at the compliment. “I like to browse antique stores. I want to be a designer someday with my own shop.”

“I’m Rylee Harper.” Rylee stuck out her hand. “I’m an interior designer.” The words felt good on her tongue. When was the last time she’d introduced herself as a designer? Not for at least the last six months. After she severed all ties to her former best friend and their business, she hadn’t wanted to talk about her career to anyone.

“Maddie.” The teen nodded in the direction of Rylee. “Are you working on something in Cranberry Bay?”

“I’m staging a set of vintage river cottages. It’s just temporary while I get my grandmother’s house sold.”

“Do you need any help?” Maddie shifted back and forth on her feet. “I just landed in town and I could use a little work. I’ve got some money I owe people…”

“I could use some help.” Rylee raised her eyebrows at the teen. She didn’t want to probe too deeply, but the girl was obviously hurting over something. “But I can’t pay you. Do you need school credits?”

When she’d been in business with Ericka, they’d often had a young person helping them. The teens earned credits for working in real-world jobs, and they gained extra hands to help out with the grunt work.

“Yea.” Maddie gazed at the floor. “I could use some of those too.”

“Great!” Rylee said, surprised at how easy the conversation had been and even more surprised at the hope that rose in her chest. It felt good to help someone again. She’d do a quick check on Maddie with Ivy or Katie and make sure everything was okay. In a small town like Cranberry Bay, someone would know Maddie and could fill in the details. “Why don’t you grab another basket, and we’ll see what we can fill up. I’m focusing on designing each cottage around a different color. The first one is going to be light yellow.”

After an hour of searching, laughing, and exclaiming over everything from rotary phones to shoes missing their other half, Ivy, Maddie, and Rylee stood around a large stack of chairs, end tables, dishes, and linens.

“I don’t know.” Ivy nodded to a pair of broken dining room chairs. “A lot of this looks pretty beat up to me. I can’t even believe I took it into the store. You’re really doing me a favor, but I can’t imagine how you’re going to use some of this in those cottages.”

“A coat of paint can make everything fresh again.” Rylee finished tagging a pair of antique bedside tables with a heavy cardstock circle with the store’s logo.

“I’m good with painting,” Maddie said. “I helped on the sets for my school’s play in Seattle last spring.”

“Great!” Rylee said and smiled at her. “We’ll add painting to your list.”

The front door chimed. “Hello! Anyone behind all this stuff?” Bryan said.

Rylee maneuvered her way through the pile of dishes and chairs. She wiped her hands on her pants and scanned the stack. “I think we made good progress today. I can set up at least three of the cottages and check the area for local estate or garage sales.”

Bryan ran his finger along the edges of a rusty folding chair. “Are you sure this is going to work? It looks like it should be in the trash.”

“We’re going to paint it, Uncle Bryan.” Maddie stepped around the corner of a large basket stacked with plastic picnic dishes. “I’m going to paint all the chairs.”

Rylee whirled around to face Bryan. Bryan was Maddie’s uncle? She quickly tried to recover from her surprise and said, “We’ll add a new cushion and some burlap ribbon tied on the back. Everything can be made to have a purpose, even things that appear broken.”

“Yes,” Bryan said, holding Rylee’s gaze. “Everything can be made to have a purpose.”

Rylee flushed as Bryan broke her gaze and turned to Maddie. “Where is your Mom?” Bryan asked Maddie.

“She’s at the grocery store.” Maddie frowned. “She said I could browse the shop, and I ran into Rylee.”

Rylee smiled at the intricate connections of Cranberry Bay. Maddie was Bryan’s twin sister’s daughter. Lisa would have no problems with Maddie working with her to help Bryan. Quickly she stepped in between Bryan and Maddie. “Maddie was helping me. She’s going to be my assistant and earn either credit hours or volunteer work time.”

Bryan touched Rylee’s arm. He lowered his voice. “Did she tell you why she’s here?”

“No.” Rylee frowned. She was usually a good judge of character. Maddie seemed like a girl who just needed a new direction, similar to herself right now. She glanced over at Maddie, whose frown had deepened.

Bryan lowered his face to whisper against Rylee’s cheek. “She served some time in the juvenile detention center. Lisa wanted her out of Seattle for a while. If you want to back out…”

“No,” Rylee said, straightening and pushing aside the butterfly feelings that arose when Bryan breathed against her cheek. “Maddie knows how to pick a good item from a bad one, and that’s what counts in my book.” She smiled at Maddie.

Maddie watched them. Rylee hoped the girl knew everything would be okay. She wasn’t going to judge her on the past.

“Everyone deserves a second chance.” Rylee looked up into Bryan’s eyes.

Bryan held her gaze. His face darkened with emotion. “Yes.” Bryan touched her hand. “They do.”

Bryan strode to the river cottages. A bakery bag, filled with two turkey-and-cranberry sandwiches and creamy tomato soup, bumped against his leg. Carefully, he shifted the sack to his other hand, being sure not to tip the covered soup cups over. Sasha had even convinced him to toss in a couple of her oatmeal raisin cookies, winking at him and telling him it would sweeten his lunch with Rylee. He didn’t need much to sweeten his feelings, and had to keep reminding himself his goal was to convince her to stay in Cranberry Bay, not to fall in love with her again.

Bryan rounded the corner and stopped. An old wheelbarrow filled with colorful pots of fall mums sat in the center of the yard between the cottages. A tall scarecrow wearing a green scarf leaned against the outer wall of cottage number one. Colorful lawn chairs were placed around a stack of wood sitting inside the fire pit. Outside each cottage, orange and yellow fall mums were planted inside burlap bags and tied with colorful ribbons. Festive fall wreaths made of leaves hung from each of the cottage doors. New hand-painted signs hung from bright ribbon on a small nail at the front of each cottage.

Rylee was hanging a set of curtains in the large picture window of the middle cottage. Bryan set the bakery bags on a green picnic table. He strode toward the middle cottage, unable to stop the grin from spreading across his face. In less than a week, Rylee had brought the cottages to life. As soon as he snapped some pictures and posted them on the listing service, buyers would be calling his office in droves. This was exactly what people wanted. They didn’t want run-down cottages they’d have to fix up. Buyers wanted cottages they could walk into and call their own without the headache of doing the skillful and thoughtful work Rylee and Maddie had pulled together in days.

Rylee knocked on the window and motioned to him.

Bryan pushed open the door. “You’ve done an amazing job!”

“I’ve still got a lot of work to do,” Rylee muttered, her mouth struggling to move around a large screw she held between her teeth. She stood on the middle rung of a small ladder. Raisin lay on a small fleece blanket beside the kitchen table. He lifted his head at Bryan and wagged his tail.

“Hey buddy.” Bryan nodded to Raisin without taking his eyes off Rylee.

“Can you grab that bracket?” Rylee pointed to the windowsill as the ladder wobbled.

“I’ve got it.” Bryan picked up the hook, handed it to Rylee and wrapped his fingers around the steel ladder. His fingers brushed against her ankles, and he inhaled the familiar scent of her perfume, jasmine vanilla. He was transported to the summer nights they had snuggled in each other’s arms and listened to the summer concert series in the park.

“I’m just about done here.” Rylee placed the drill bit against the wall. As she stretched forward, her foot slipped, and she slid down two steps of the ladder toward Bryan.

“I’ve got you.” He wrapped his arms around her.

She squirmed around to face him. Her eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed. But she didn’t try to move out of his arms.

“That was a close one.” He drew light circles on her back. Bryan stared into Rylee’s eyes and swirled with emotions he’d spent years pushing away.

Rylee parted her mouth, and without thinking, Bryan lowered his face to touch her lips. But before he reached her, someone said: “Anyone here?”

Startled, Bryan broke away from Rylee. “Hey Dennis.” Bryan cleared his throat and tried to pretend he hadn’t just been caught kissing the girl of his long-ago summer childhood dreams.

Raisin shook himself and stood. He wandered to Dennis and nosed against his palm.

Dennis petted the dog and grinned. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“You’re not.” Rylee stepped away from Bryan. She smoothed her hands over her jeans. “What can we do for you? Would you like to see the cottages? They’re not quite ready, but we’d be happy to show you one or two.”

Rylee was talking so fast, Bryan couldn’t help but think she was just as nervous about being caught with her lips near Bryan’s as he had been. They were both grown adults, and yet something about kissing Rylee Harper made him feel sixteen again.

“Dennis.” Bryan said to cover the awkwardness. “I’m sorry. You remember Rylee Harper. She’s back in town selling her grandmother’s place. I’ve hired her to help stage the cottages for the sale.”

“Oh!” Rylee’s face reddened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you. I thought you might be someone who was interested in buying.”

“No worries. I can see the two of you are busy.” Dennis said, and smiled. “My wife, Allison, wanted me to drop these off.” He motioned toward a large box by the door. “There are some dishes in there. Picnic baskets. That type of thing. She thought you might want it for the staging.” He looked around the cottage. “But it looks like you’ve got things wrapped up. Everything looks great.”

Rylee scurried to the box and flipped open the top. She pulled out a set of red plastic dishes and a large picnic basket. “These are perfect. I’ll set them out in the first cottage. They will really add to the gingham curtains Katie is sewing.”

“Great,” Dennis said. “I’ll tell Allison they will work perfectly.” He nodded to Bryan. “I’ll stop by and pick up the rest of the things from the sixth cottage on Monday.”

Dennis stepped out the door, and Rylee busied herself digging inside her large shoulder bag. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I tucked a granola bar in here this morning.” She stuck her face in the bag. “If I find it, I can split it with you.”

“No, need,” Bryan said. “I brought lunch. Will you join me?”

Raisin walked over to Bryan. He gazed up at him with wide eyes as if he knew the word lunch.

Bryan smiled at Raisin and his heart pounded. It’d be easy for Rylee to say no. Lunch was not part of their working relationship, and the kiss they’d almost shared didn’t make things easier. It was a working relationship. He’d been out of line to try and kiss her. She’d have every right to turn and walk away, but he hoped she’d stay.

Rylee dropped her purse onto the table and shrugged. “Lunch would be nice. I can’t find the granola bar. I must have left it on the counter at Grandma’s house. I’ll just wash off a few of these plates and be right out.”

“I’ll help you.” Bryan stepped into the small kitchen. Raisin followed him and sat down beside a kitchen chair. Bryan grabbed a white embroidered towel hanging on the stove.

“Not that one.” Rylee opened the top kitchen drawer and pulled out a thick yellow dishtowel. “Use this one.”

Bryan carefully folded the special towel and placed it back on the stove. “My Mom does the same thing,” he said. “At Christmas, we can never use the towels she sets out. They’re for decoration.”

“I know it’s a silly thing.” Rylee ran the water and tested it with her finger before slipping a couple of plates and two glasses under the faucet. She dropped globs of dish soap into the sink and stirred the water with her hand. “But Maddie picked these out. I’m not sure how much washing they can stand with the embroidery.”

“Maddie.” Bryan wiped his hands on the towel. He shifted his weight and looked at the ground, then up at Rylee. “Honestly, I don’t know what to do about her. I want to help her, but I don’t know how.” He cleared his throat. It was never easy for him to admit he didn’t know how to do something, especially when it came to matters involving his family.

Rylee handed him a clean plate. Her quiet acceptance filled the room as Bryan toweled a plate. He’d always loved the way she listened.

“Maddie’s had a hard time. Her Dad died when she was young. Lisa has never quite been able to afford a home in Seattle. They’ve moved around a lot, different apartments and neighborhoods. I wish they’d come back to Cranberry Bay, but Lisa says the town is just too small for her. She loves the city.”

Bryan looked out the small window above the sink as a bird darted to a branch on a nearby Japanese maple.

“Maddie loves working on the cottages.” Rylee placed a glass on the counter. Water dripped around the edges. “She really has a good eye for everything she picks out and puts together. I think she has a gift for design.”

Bryan exhaled. He lifted the glass and ran his towel over the edges. “That’s good to hear because it’s hard to figure out what she wants to do right now. The last time we saw Maddie, she was a cheerful girl who kept us all laughing during a very hard time for our family. But now she’s sullen and withdrawn.”

Rylee placed another plate on the counter. She reached in and lifted the drain, allowing the water to run out of the sink. “There was a summer I came to visit when Grandma and Grandpa might have said the same thing about me.” Rylee turned and leaned against the counter. “Mom had just died, and I was furious she could be taken from us so suddenly.”

Bryan studied Rylee. He knew her mother had died, but she’d never talked about it with him. She’d never talked much about any of her family, except for her grandparents. At twenty-one, he had figured they had plenty of time, and she would talk to him in time. He also had to admit that he’d been selfish and didn’t understand the importance of listening to the other person, too. It’d taken a few years with his ex-wife for the lesson to sink in. Now he found himself eagerly waiting to show her how well he could listen to her, too. He wanted to know more about the girl who had grown up to be the strong and hard-working woman who stood before him.

“Grandma and Grandpa tried everything. Trips to the ice cream store, fishing with Grandpa, crafts, even a trip to Portland. But no matter what they did, nothing worked.”

“Until…” Bryan prompted.

Rylee smiled shyly at him. “This boy came to work with Grandpa in the garage. They liked to fiddle with cars.”

“Me?” Bryan pointed his index finger at his chest. He flushed, but he smiled broadly.

Rylee grinned. “Yes. When you came to work with Grandpa, my anger disappeared. Grandma thought it’d be good if I could learn to cook that summer, and she taught me how to bake cookies.”

“Which you served to me.” Bryan wrinkled his nose. “And some sugary lemonade.”

“You never said you didn’t like my lemonade.” Rylee nudged Bryan’s hip playfully.

“Well…” Bryan said. “It had a lot of sugar in it.”

“It’s okay,” Rylee said, and laughed. “It was horrible, but everyone pretended to like it.”

“So you think I should find a boy for Maddie to be interested in?” Bryan placed the two plates in the picnic basket.

“Not necessarily. I think she will come out of her shell, eventually. She seems to really like the vintage and antique shopping. She helped me pick out a lot of the pillows and colors in the cottages.”

“I agree with you.” Bryan closed the basket top. “And most importantly, no boy.” He suspected Lisa would agree with him.

“No?” Rylee said, and laughed.

Her laughter danced along the cedar walls of the small cottage and filled Bryan’s heart with a joy he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for a long time. “Why don’t we take our lunch to the river? It’s a really nice day. Probably one of the last before the winter storms roll in.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” Rylee grabbed her coat from the peg behind the door. “But just in case the weather turns, I am prepared this time.”

Bryan grinned. She sounded exactly like she always had whenever he’d take her out in Sawyer’s motorboat. Bryan had never worried about getting cold, not as a native to the cold and damp summers of the Oregon coast. He dressed in layers. As the weather heated up, he and everyone else shed the layers, or they added them as the weather cooled down in the evenings. But Rylee never seemed to have the standard layers of T-shirts and fleece sweatshirts. Most of the time, she wore his sweatshirt or jacket.

Now Rylee pulled on a thick, black coat. She clipped Raisin’s leash to his collar and smiled at him. “Ready.”

The two walked the half-a-block to the park and settled on one of the picnic tables facing the river. Raisin positioned himself under Rylee’s feet, close enough to be able to scoop any crumbs which might fall from lunch. In the spring, the park pathway was lined with colorful tulips and daffodils, while pink and blue hydrangeas bloomed nearby. Couples often stopped at the small memorial bench to snap photos of each other. The river ran beside the park and provided a place for both fishing and lazy summer rafting. Today, the muddy waters gushed at a fast clip and filled the banks.

“The river is gushing pretty high, isn’t it?” Rylee frowned at the deep water.

“We’ve just had some heavy rains. It’s usually like this during the fall and winter.” Bryan set the basket on the table and tossed one leg over the bench.

“Do the cottages ever flood?” Rylee stared into the water.

“I don’t think so.” Bryan tried to remember if Dennis had mentioned anything about flooded cottages. “We really haven’t had a big flood since I was in high school.”

“But it’s been raining a lot.”

“No more than usual.” Bryan said, and chuckled. “You always visited in the summer. This is what late fall is like out here. Rain all the time.”

“Mmm…” Rylee turned and sat down opposite him at the table. She reached into the picnic basket and pulled out a light-blue patchwork tablecloth.

Bryan fingered the corner. “This looks familiar.”

“It was my grandmother’s. She kept it on their back patio table during the summer.” Rylee thumbed the edges of the cotton material. “It’s a little threadbare. But it fit nicely with the colors in the cottage. I’m going to place it on the table in cottage number one.”