Children had a way of filtering out the unpleasant and focusing on the positives. She remembered some of the places she’d lived as a child. Though they might have been dumps, her father would always manage to sell her by pointing out the things children loved—a tree with a tire swing, or a patio with a picnic table, or a nearby creek where they could catch tadpoles. And she could overlook leaky roofs and peeling paint.
Actually, the Skillman cabin was a palace compared to some of the places she’d lived.
HUDSON WAS ON THE VERGE of grabbing his child and running back to Boston. This place was a trash heap! But then he thought about what George would say, and he controlled the urge. He could stand anything for a month.
There was no way to fake this vacation, either. He’d thought about checking into a four-star resort in Florida or California and simply staying out of touch for a month. But he couldn’t lie to George, who’d been his mentor for a dozen years. George was convinced Cottonwood was the medicine Hudson needed, and nothing else would do. He wanted Hudson to be bored.
They walked out onto the rickety dock. “Are there fish in this lake?” Hudson asked.
“Oh, loads,” Amanda replied.
“Can I catch some goldfish?” Bethany asked.
Amanda laughed. It was a musical, tinkling laugh that seemed to shiver down Hudson’s spine. For the first time since he’d met her, Hudson thought he saw through Ms. Super-Efficient Realtor to the real woman beneath. And he liked what he saw.
“No goldfish in Town Lake,” she said. “But the pet store on the square has goldfish. That’s one pet you can keep in a rental house.”
“Who lives in that house?” Bethany asked, pointing to a tidy A-frame home next door to theirs. It was similar in style to theirs, but quite a bit larger—and nicer.
“A fairy princess lives there,” Amanda answered in a confidential whisper.
“Really? Where? Where is she?”
“She’s standing right here on the dock with you.”
“I don’t see her.”
Amanda laughed again. “I’m only teasing, Bethany. Actually, that’s my house.”
Hudson’s interest in the rental cabin ratcheted up a notch. He’d heard the saying location-location-location, and a desirable neighbor could make the location sweet.
“Can I come visit you?” Bethany asked.
“Anytime you like. Although I’m not home very much.”
“Neither is my daddy,” Bethany said.
Another twinge of guilt. How long would it take to regain Bethany’s trust? Ah, who the hell was he kidding? He’d never had it to begin with. Bethany had been only two years old when Elaine had died in a skiing accident—while skiing with her boyfriend. The shock of her death and her infidelity had been too much for Hudson. He’d thrown himself into his work like a demon. Immersed in a complicated surgery, he could forget Elaine and her painful betrayal.
Unfortunately, in forgetting Elaine he’d also neglected the emotional needs of his daughter.
Well, he intended to make up for his shortcomings as a father. Children were resilient and forgiving. He would get back in Bethany’s good graces if it killed him. And if she wanted to live in this ramshackle cabin and sleep in a loft and visit the fairy princess next door, so be it.
“I’ll take the cabin,” he said abruptly.
“Really?” Amanda seemed surprised. “I haven’t even told you how much it is.”
“How much is it?”
“Seven hundred.”
“A week?”
She laughed. “A month.”
Holy cow, that was cheap. He’d never lived in a place that cost so little. “That’s fine.”
They returned to the Tri-County rental office, where Hudson was required to fill out an application, though Amanda assured him it was only a formality. His pen hovered over the space marked “Occupation.” He’d misled Amanda, but he couldn’t make himself lie on paper. He wrote in “doctor” very quickly and hoped no one would read it.
He wrote out a check for one month’s rent plus a security deposit. It had been so long since he’d actually written a check, he had to stop and think about it. He had a business manager who handled all of his bills. When he did have to deal with financial things, he used credit cards.
When he’d hastily packed for this trip, he’d grabbed his old checkbook from a desk drawer, realizing not everyone accepted credit cards, especially out in the sticks. He congratulated himself for thinking ahead.
Amanda took the check and the application, paper-clipped them together, and stuck them in a folder on her fanatically neat desk.
“Thanks for helping me out,” he said as he stood.
She stood also and handed him the key to the cabin. “Thanks for the business. Please let me know if I can help you with anything else. And welcome to the neighborhood.”
He shook her hand again, holding it for a little longer than was necessary.
THE FIRST THING Hudson did upon arriving at his new, temporary home was to locate the yellow pages and hire a cleaning service to give the place a good going-over. Rustic he could handle; filthy he couldn’t. With a little prodding, he arranged for a housekeeper from Sharon’s Personal Service to come out that afternoon. “If I’m not here, the door will be open.” It wasn’t as if a thief would want to steal anything here.
Next on the list was groceries. He’d never had to prepare his own food before. At Grubbs Food Mart, which appeared to be the only grocery store in town, he filled his basket with frozen foods, snacks and lunch meats for sandwiches. Bethany made her choices clear. She wanted macaroni and cheese, peanut butter and jelly and something called Lunchables that appeared to be cheese and crackers in a box.
George had told him to eat healthily, but since Hudson couldn’t cook, he was severely limited. He bought a few apples, some peaches and, at Bethany’s urging, a bag of celery.
“I like it with peanut butter,” she announced.
In the cleaning products aisle, he picked up some dishwasher detergent. Wait, did the cabin have a dishwasher? Hell, he didn’t think so, now that he thought about it. And laundry, how was he supposed to clean his clothes? How was he supposed to relax if he had to worry about all this stuff?
He was putting his groceries in the trunk when he saw a woman barreling toward him through the small parking lot. Not just any woman, he realized. Amanda Dewhurst.
His momentary pleasure was soon blunted by the fact that she was scowling.
As soon as she reached him, she waved a piece of paper in his face. “Would you mind explaining this?”
He grabbed the paper from her hand, which he now saw was his check. “What’s wrong?”
