The Bachelor Next Door. Kathryn Springer
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sign framed between two pine trees on the other side of the river.
Castle Falls Outfitters.
She pulled in a breath and held it.
This was it. The beginning of a brand-new adventure.
Or the biggest mistake of your life.
Lily refused to listen to that negative inner voice—a gruff baritone that sounded suspiciously like her father’s.
But the contract in her purse, signed by Sonia Mason, proved that God was directing her steps. Even if Lily had never actually met the woman in person.
She glanced at the clock on the dashboard and sighed.
It didn’t look as if she’d have the opportunity to meet her very first client today, either. Lily’s plan to get an early start that morning had been sabotaged by a nail that had found its way into her tire as she’d backed out of the driveway of her apartment complex.
Please make yourself at home if I’m not there when you arrive, Sunni had written in her last email.
At home.
Another answer to prayer.
There were no hotels in Castle Falls, so Sunni had offered the use of her guest room until she returned from her Caribbean cruise. Lily had agreed to the arrangement without hesitation. The town was too far from Traverse City to commute back and forth—and too far away for her father to drop by.
Something he’d been doing on a daily basis for the past few weeks. Nolan Michaels made no secret of the fact he wasn’t happy with Lily’s “impulsive decision” to change careers, even temporarily.
Her hands tightened around the steering wheel as the wooden bridge shuddered beneath the weight of her compact car. Once she was safely on the other side, it was easier to appreciate the unspoiled beauty of her surroundings. On the map, the river had been a tiny blue thread embroidered along an edge of national forest in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. She caught a flash of sapphire through the trees and heard the water humming a cheerful melody as it spilled over the rocks.
Lily couldn’t wait to explore. If there was one thing she’d learned from Shelby, it was to view every day as a gift from God, meant to be unwrapped and enjoyed.
The thick hedge of trees began to thin out, and the late-afternoon sun winked off a metal roof. Rounding a curve, Lily drove past a large aluminum pole building and caught a glimpse of a rustic cabin tucked in a stand of trees behind it.
Sonia had mentioned she ran a home-based business, but Lily had been too busy concentrating on her own list of last-minute details to ask questions.
When the house came into view, she realized she probably should have.
The Craftsman-style Foursquare, dating back to the ’50s, wore a shaggy coat of iron-gray paint. Its patchwork roof dipped low over the front porch like an old tweed cap, shading the windows from the sun. It looked to Lily as if the pink petunias planted along the sidewalk were nodding a welcome as she hopped out of the car.
Underneath the sisal welcome mat, she found a key to the front door. The small piece of metal felt heavy in the palm of Lily’s hand.
Although she had requested photographs of the rooms she’d be renovating, Sunni had neglected to send any. Now, after seeing the outside of the house, Lily wondered if the oversight had been deliberate.
Well, there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?
She fit the key in the lock and pushed the door open. One step forward and Lily found herself standing in a tunnel of blue-and-white gingham check, the pattern broken only by a line of bright red, wallpaper roosters marching along the strip of baseboard.
Following the roosters into the kitchen, Lily clapped one hand over her mouth to muffle a burst of laughter.
Yellow plaid wallpaper and…sheep. Dozens of them, stenciled from floor to ceiling on all four walls and grazing between the cupboards.
By the time Lily walked into the living room and saw the tangerine walls, she decided this was going to be fun. The interior might be a bit outdated, but overall, the house had a personality as warm and inviting as a flannel shirt in January.
She opened the last door at the end of the hall and felt a jolt of surprise.
Sparse and utilitarian, the only furnishings were a navy blue wingback chair and a desk that, oddly enough, didn’t face the row of windows overlooking the river. Unlike the rest of the rooms, there were no houseplants or knickknacks on the shelves. No pictures on the walls. Even though Lily had never met Sonia, she couldn’t imagine the woman spending her days in an office that lacked the warmth of the rest of her home.
Lily smiled.
She’d start the transformation here.
* * *
Brendan was late.
True, he probably shouldn’t have scheduled an appointment on the day his mother had to be at the airport, but there should have been plenty of time for both…if Brendan hadn’t been forced to take a detour because of road construction. And if the detour hadn’t been a back road with more twists and turns than a corn maze. Which meant Domita Peterson had probably gotten tired of waiting for him and left.
He hadn’t been able to reach her by phone, not an uncommon occurrence given the unreliable cell-phone reception in the area. Ordinarily, Liam and Aiden would have been available to greet a potential customer, but they’d left that morning for a weekend-long camping trip to test one of Liam’s new designs.
Brendan could only hope Mrs. Peterson had more patience than he did.
The frustration he’d been battling distilled into relief at the sight of an unfamiliar vehicle parked in the driveway. As he pulled up next to it and got out of the car, a woman rounded the corner of the house.
A young woman.
When Domita Peterson had called to request a meeting, she’d mentioned that she wanted to give her husband a canoe as a gift for his retirement. Brendan hadn’t anticipated she would be in her mid-twenties, closer to his age than his mother’s. With a face and figure guaranteed to draw a second glance.
Although the combination of faded jeans, a bright pink T-shirt and golden-blond hair separated into two ponytails made her look more girl-next-door than trophy wife.
“I’m sorry I’m late.” Brendan kept his expression neutral.
Reminded himself that the woman’s personal business wasn’t any of his. “Why don’t we go inside, where it’s cooler?”
The woman’s eyes, an unusual shade of blue-violet that reminded Brendan of the wildflowers that carpeted the woods every spring, widened in response to the suggestion.
Maybe she’d been expecting that the Castle Falls Outfitters’ office would be housed in something other than a…house. It wouldn’t be the first time a potential customer had a difficult time reconciling the craftsmanship of their work with the place where they worked.
Brendan made it halfway down the sidewalk when he realized this potential customer wasn’t following him. He glanced over his shoulder.
“Is something wrong?”
“I…I think you have me confused with someone else.”
Brendan frowned. “Aren’t you Domita Peterson? My six o’clock appointment?”
The woman shook her head, and the movement sent the twin ponytails dancing.
“I’m Lily Michaels—the painter. And you are…”
Someone who plans to have a little chat with his mother as soon as possible, Brendan thought grimly.
Except that he couldn’t. Because at that very moment, Sunni was on a cruise ship bound for the Caribbean.
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