were eventually, but hopefully that didn’t mean they would have to actually see each other.
She got back in the car and shut the door, and saw in her rearview mirror that Eli had done the same. Good.
She took a deep breath and started the engine, then put the car into gear. She was on to new things, reclaiming an old past and stealing its power.
And a little run-in with Eli Garrett wasn’t going to change that.
THE CATALOG HOUSE was even more beautiful than advertised. Rough around the edges, yes, but Sadie had been warned about that.
The lawn needed replanting. Or sod. But she wasn’t sure she had the budget to lay down a grass carpet. Which meant she might be stuck with seeding, and patience. She hated being patient. She didn’t like sitting around. And she had never waited for the grass to grow.
She leaned back against her car and studied the house. From the rocks that went halfway up the facade, to the solid, original wood paneling and the cut-glass windows, it was something that spoke of a different time.
It was hardly a rough-hewn cabin. It was almost too elegant to be out here, buried in the trees at the base of the mountains. But she knew, from what Connor had sent in his email, that the house was one his great-great-grandfather had ordered for his wife from a Sears and Roebuck catalog around 1914. Something to make the wilderness of Oregon seem a little less wild, compared to their old home in Boston.
Sadie imagined that, in a land of log cabins, this had been the most modern dwelling in the area.
Not so much now, but it had charm. And really, that was what a bed-and-breakfast needed. Connor had said renovations would be up to her, but she had permission to do what she wanted to the place, so long as she paid for it and—per her lease—left it in better condition than when she came. Which meant, according to him, “no stupid shit like shag carpet.”
She took in a deep breath, let the smell wrap itself around her. The sharp tang of salt from the sea, wood that was heated by the sun, and pine all lingered in the air.
It was familiar, but different, too. She’d been away from this air for a long time, and when she’d left, there was nothing about Copper Ridge that had felt special to her. She hadn’t been able to see the beauty anymore. It had all shrunk down to a little house on the wrong side of the highway, and the smell of dirt, blood and booze.
There hadn’t been a lot of moments where she’d stopped and smelled the forest. If she’d ever gone into the forest it had been to hide out, in a little alcove not far from the Garrett ranch, and smoke a cigarette. Which sort of negated the fresh clean air aspect of it all.
It struck her then that she was within walking distance of the place. That if she wanted to, she could leave her half-unpacked boxes and see the haven she’d gone to with her friends all those years ago.
A strange ache filled her chest, a feeling of longing and homesickness that was unfamiliar to her. There was weight in that clearing. Roots. And, she strongly suspected, a high probability of ghosts of bad decisions past.
She and her friends had been nothing more than children then, angry at life. Determined to do whatever they could to take back some control. Which had taken the form of drugs, alcohol and sex. Because those little rebellions felt like an achievement.
But she was an adult now. And she had the control. The life she made here would be hers. More than just a reaction to what was happening in her family home.
She didn’t need to see the clearing. And there were no ghosts.
With that final thought, she picked up Toby’s pet carrier and strode up the front porch and lifted the lid on the mail slot by the door. Connor had said he’d put a key in there for her. She had the impression he intended to interact with her as little as possible.
Which suited her just fine. She had the money she needed to do the remodeling on the house, and she was sort of looking forward to spending a few weeks in relative solitude handling all of it before she got things up and running.
Maybe then she’d look up her old friends. Or not. That would be...well, it would be too close to revisiting times that hadn’t been fun for anyone. Maybe she would meet a guy. Go on a date.
Lately she’d been out of the habit of both dating and making friends.
The moves made it hard. And if she was honest, starting fresh was her preference. She didn’t like bringing old places with her into the new ones. Not that there weren’t friends and boyfriends she had cared for. She had cared. She did. It was just that she liked them as happy memories. She didn’t like letting a relationship stretch on to the point it started to show wear and tear.
She pulled the brass key out of the box and put it in the matching lock, turning it hard before it gave. “All right, Toby,” she said. “Welcome home, whether we like it or not, because we can’t back out of the lease, and after I remodel this place, we’ll officially be broke.”
She walked them both inside and looked around. It was dark, but it was clean. The wood floors were definitely in need of polishing, but nothing was seriously wrong with them. There were some threadbare rugs that needed replacing, light fixtures that needed updating. But it didn’t smell like mold or anything, so that was a bonus.
“It really does have to work out,” she said, setting Toby’s carrier up on the kitchen table. “Because otherwise you’ll be reduced to standing on a street corner and offering kitty head scritches for money. And none of us want to see you stoop that low.”
She opened up his cage and he wandered out, looking around and sniffing the air, his tail twitching. She ran her hand over his gray striped fur, then scratched him behind his ears. “Really, though, you could charge for this service,” she said. “You give me instant Zen.”
Toby just looked at her, as though to say he would be much more Zen if they were back in their bright, white apartment in sunny San Diego.
But then, Toby was used to following her around at this point, so she knew his indignation would be brief.
First order of business was to get Toby’s litter box out of the car. The second was to start making this place habitable.
Like it or not, ready or not, she’d made a five-year commitment, and she had to see it through.
“All right, Toby,” she said. “It’s time to do this thing.”
* * *
“THERE WAS A CAR over at the Catalog House. I saw it when I pulled in,” Eli said.
“Yeah.”
Eli glanced at his brother, who was at the kitchen table looking more sullen and antisocial than usual. Which was saying something.
“And there was a light on,” Eli continued, pushing for an explanation.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t sound surprised.”
“No shit. I thought you were the law enforcement around here. You’d think you could put two and two together.”
