His Winter Rose. Lois Richer
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such a flush of relief. She’d never worried about coming back late before. Piper led him off the dock and up the path to her home.
“You need some automatic lights. With all the clouds, it’s quite dark along here. The trees keep out the moonlight.”
She was suddenly aware of why she’d felt so uneasy. It wasn’t just the dock lights that were out. There were no lights along here, either.
His hand grazed her shoulder.
“Piper? What’s wrong?”
“I do have lights.” She looked up, pointed. “There’s one.”
“Well, it’s not working.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Yes, I’d noticed. Thanks.”
He grinned, then glanced around. “Looks like they’re all out. What do you suppose happened to them?”
“I have no idea. Fortunately, I’m very familiar with this path.” She turned and began striding along, confidence growing with each step she took. The next moment she was on her knees. “Ow!”
What was the willow chair her grandmother had always kept on the porch doing here?
“Whoa!” He was there, grasping her arm, helping her stand, his grip strong, reassuring. “What happened?”
“My pride just took a beating.” She brushed her palms against her legs, feeling the prick of pebbles that had dug into her skin.
“Maybe I should lead.” He lifted the chair out of the way.
“You’ve been here before?” she asked, staring at him.
“Good point. You lead, I’ll follow. Just go a little slower, okay?”
“Right.” Embarrassed, she picked her way up the path, her mind busy with the light question. “Maybe a breaker’s flipped or something.”
“Maybe.”
When she stumbled again, he took her hand, his warm, strong fingers threading through hers. “Let’s just go slowly, make sure we don’t happen over anything else.”
At that moment the moon slipped out from between two black clouds and provided just enough light for her to see a shape move through the brush.
“Do you see him?” she whispered.
“Who?” He glanced at her. “I can’t really see anything.”
Then moonlight was gone. So was the shadow. Maybe she’d imagined it. Piper shook her head.
“Never mind. It’s not far to the house now. This leads to the garden. Once we’re past these roses, we take two steps up onto the deck.” Her eyes were adjusting now, discerning familiar landmarks. “See? There’s the arch into the garden.”
He probably didn’t need her directing him, but she did it anyway until finally they stood before her door.
“Now if I can just get the key inside.” She slid it into the lock and twisted, unlocking the door and pushing it open. With one flick of her wrist the house entry and deck were illuminated. “Come on in.”
She turned on lights as she walked into the house. Thank goodness she’d cleaned up the kitchen this morning.
“So all the power’s not out. Just those lights.” He raised one eyebrow. “Where’s the breaker box? I’ll check it, if you want.”
“Thanks.” Piper showed him the panel in the basement, then left him, intending to return to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Halfway up the basement stairs she stopped, taking a second look.
The old wicker furniture her grandparents had replaced several years ago still sat down here because Piper had hopes of locating someone who would recane the seats and backs. But the furniture had recently been moved, and not by her.
Someone had been in her house.
“The breaker was off, all right.” Jason slapped the metal door closed. “If you’ve got a timer, you’ll have to reset.” He stopped speaking, looked at her more closely. “Something else isn’t right?”
“I’m not sure.” She went back down the stairs, stepped between the two love seats and stared at the thick wooden door she always kept locked. When she tried to open it, the dead bolt held, but she could see faint marks on the wood where it looked as if someone had pried a screwdriver. Had it been done tonight?
“Where does that door lead to? A secret tunnel?”
“Kind of. I told you my grandfather was a goldsmith, didn’t I? Well, he kept a workshop here after he retired.” She saw the interest flare in his eyes and hurried on. “I’ve been catching up on what he taught me. Because of the chemicals we use, he always insisted his work area be kept hidden and locked up. I’m the same way.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“It is.” Piper didn’t want to say any more right now. She wanted to think about whether someone could have gone through her house, and why. “Thanks for fixing the breaker. It’ll be nice to have lights again.”
“Yes.” He kept looking at her, though he said nothing more. He didn’t have to; that stare sent a funny kind of zing up her spine.
“Let’s go have that hot chocolate,” she murmured, tearing her gaze away.
“Sure.”
Jason followed her up the stairs to the kitchen and perched on one of the breakfast stools, watching as she put the ingredients together.
“Are you telling me that you are a goldsmith, also?” he asked when the silence between them had stretched to discomfort.
“No. I just putter at it. Gifts for friends, things like that.” She held out a mug. “Would you rather sit outside? There’s a space where we’ll be protected if it rains. We could watch the storm, though I’m sure it will only be a tiny one. The wind isn’t blowing hard anymore.”
“Outside sounds fine.”
Before she could lead the way, the phone rang.
“Hey, there. I tried you earlier, but no answer. Were you out on a hot date with the mayor?”
“Um, I’ll have to call you back, Ash. I’ve got company right now.”
“So I was right! Rowena owes me ten bucks.”
“Lucky you. Bye now.”
Knowing full well that her friend would immediately call Row and the two of them would discuss her visitor made Piper uncomfortable, especially with the subject of their conversation so near.
“Sorry, that was a friend of mine.” She pushed open the door. “You didn’t have to come over here with me. The sailboat does have a motor.”
“I’m glad I came. I was curious to see where you lived.” He followed her through the French doors and sank down onto the chair nearest hers. “It’s a beautiful view.”
She tried to see the garden through his eyes. Her grandmother had ordered small, shielded lights installed high up which cast a wash of illumination over her favorite gnarled oak trees. Accent lights hidden by boulders would soon show off the glorious blues of delphiniums, bright-red poppies and candy-pink carnations. Buried in the beds of the soon-to-be fragrant and colorful rose garden were soft, romantic lights, and along the path oversize mushroom lights showed the next step on the path down to the lake.
“Sitting up here, it feels as if the world is far away. It must be a wonderful place to come home to.”
“I never get tired of it.” Piper wished he could see it on a summer day when Cathcart House was at its best. “Every day I thank my grandparents for leaving this to me.”
“How did they die?”
“They